Cummings 'n' Juice

#isthisthewaytobarnardcastle Cummings and Juice pic.twitter.com/b8HDDwoTTy

— Matt Tuckey (@matthewtuckey) May 26, 2020

 

With so much drama on the BBC it's hard trying to be Mr Matt Tuckey, but I-

Some how, some way- keep coming up with humorous tweets like every single day.

May-I- suggest a little mix-up to the part-y,

and make a few suggestions as I breeze through

4 in the aft 'cause Cummings ain't home, press in the garden til 6 in the morn

So what you wanna do? Sheeit.

There's a pack full of journos and they want answers too.

So turn down the lights and pull down the portcullis

An essential journey with a child, you know this

Rollin down M6 with your COVID

Stoppin' at petrol stations

Faaaailure

Your mind on Barnard Castle, Barnard Castle on your mind

Junkie

View this post on Instagram

Technique 😜 #northernquarter #manchester #graffitiart

A post shared by Matt Tuckey (@matttuckey) on Jul 8, 2019 at 12:52pm PDT

Fingers twitching, urges itching

To pull out what's hiding behind the stitching

Trying to focus on leaving it alone

No, you dirty bastards, I'm talking 'bout my phone!

One five three grams of electrical power

Battery life hardly over an hour

Assistant personality extension

More apps installed than I care to mention

Firefox app connects to the mainframe

Facebook and Twitter causing a brain-drain

My main aim- is not to fangle

With the little black plastic rectangle

Kids down mines to make it function

Without cobalt I'd have no compulsion

It wouldn't be so bad but what's making it worse

Is I sit down at my desk and I'm badly underworked

The urge to tweet hits; I just can't stop it

Then I'm delving back into my trouser pocket

Social media brings a hit of dopamine

A retweet means pleasure washes over me

It's overly addictive, so much it's emotive

It's got to the point where my manager has noticed

My bad habits seem to cause some friction

The issue has been raised during supervision

I don't think they realise that this is an addiction

I am an addict. Can't they see past my diction?

You spend years learning to speak and to write

but other shortcomings leave you sleepless at night

A night without sleep means a day out of kilter

Browsing your camera roll, laying on a filter

Where is the will to- resist the temptation

And while work's quiet, find a vocation

But wait, I think, how stupid could I be?

The answer's here, staring right up at me!

Go on your phone and you'll get bollocked just like I did,

But pick up a pen and no-one bats an eyelid.

Give yourself a hit, and then you want more of 'em

Addiction can frequently stem from boredom

Whether Instagram or whether cocaine

No matter the vice, the process is the same

What if it was none of these things, bear with me, just think

What if we changed the substance to ink?

You can probably guess where this is going

Why surf twitter when you could be scripting a poem?

No-one suspects when you're not texting or talking

Matching the vowels releases endorphins

Finding syllables with which to couple up

My vacant occupation is inspiration enough

A matchup with the vowels means I know what to put

Anyway my manager's coming over so I'll shut the fuck up.

Half Way There: A Rap Verse about a Troubled Footballer

If you're doing NaBloPoMo, come on say yeah

I'm not Bon Jovi but we're half way there

When taking on the challenge, one of my fears

Was not planning forward and and running out of ideas

It hasn't happened; there's a few in reserve,

But I won't divulge, gonna keep them preserved

But while we're on it, dunno if you missed it,

Trevor Sinclair is still being a dipstick 

While he's embroiled in this drink drive palava

He's probably forgotten that time in Baa Bar

At the height of his career back in two thousand and three

Where he pretty much literally bumped into me

Tripped over my foot, and thought it was my fault

Thought that I'd pranked him just to be spiteful

He leaned over me and gave me a slap

Obviously thought that I was aiming for a scrap

But why would I bother? He was twice my size!

It wasn't long before the doormen took him outside.

I went to the papers, who talked to the bar,

but 'cause they wouldn't comment the story didn't go far.

I see he's forty four, from the site in front of me,

And that right now, he's still held in custody.

We don't know whether he'll be sentenced or not,

But you know what they say about leopards and their spots.

Hatchet Job and nights out- rapped

 Dollar Mondays only had thirty attendees

I've never seen Tiger Tiger looking so empty

You know you need to give your head a proper good wobble

When you pay more for orange juice than you do for a bottle

If you're looking for birds, blokes and floosies

You're best off sticking with Taboo Tuesdays

Same target market, same large venue

Not the weekend so you won't see a hen do

Or stripey-jumpered hooligans or gypsies or psychos

Just mild-mannered students on the nights that I go

So if you want to check it out and meet some new friend,

Keep your eye on Cool Bars as we'll probably go again.

Socialite tomorrow night, another student do,

Cool Bars are going and you should do too!

Come and join us for the fifty-second Thursday

Socialite's celebrating on it's first birthday!

Join the meetup and get in next to me,

Meet loads of fit people and the odd celebrity.

Meeting next door in Albert's Schloss

Ready for the party of the week. BOSH!

If midweek partying is too much of a drama

Come out on Saturday and meet me in Sakana

All I ask if you wanna meet me,

Just log onto the site and RSVP

The bar's a great place if you need a starter

but the venue gets wild from thereon after

Pan Asian bar with incredible design,

serving beers and spirits and wine

Live sax accompanying the house music

I've shown you how to use the site... now use it!

Bear with me here, to the point I must get

Nothing to fear, just a change of subject

Continuing the post without changing mode:

a review of a book by Mark Kermode

If you recognise the name you probably knew

It's the bloke with the quiff off Newsnight Review

Sarcastic film critic, that's his job

I just read his book called Hatchet Job

A witty account of film criticism

When he trashes a film, do you agree with him?

Do film critics always think they're above it?

His prose makes the sixteen-year-old in me love it.

I always wondered why some films get slated

while some are ignored and some are overrated

Filled with anecdotes and life lessons,

It's a pleasant and humorous account of the profession.

And so I must think of a couple more words and use 'em

to bring this dodgy rap verse to a conclusion.

X TO THE MOTHERFUCKING Z! Xzibit in Gorilla Manchester

Rap star Xzibit takes the mic and shouts, “There's nobody in this club that can drink more than me.” He points the mic out into the crowd.

The crowd, in unison, gives the rehearsed reply: “FUCK YOU!”

It's a wet Tuesday night in Manchester, and the small hangar-like Gorilla nightclub is packed (mostly with 20-something white guys).

It's taken a while for X to come on stage: we'd been in the club for about an hour and a half before he appears with cohort Bishop Lamont.

Thank u @MBP06 @BishopLamont @xzibit @DJInvisible313 @Gez2wo9ine @missmelliii - INCREDIBLE NIGHT! #TigerBread pic.twitter.com/sfMll6iuBk

— Sarah Jayne Hall (@sarahjaynehall_) October 7, 2015

I'm drinking a can of Hooch that cost me four fucking pounds, there's no reception and the WiFi password's protected, but none of that matters one iota right now. Everyone's getting in the mood as the hip hop classics are rolled out, and X raps and shakes front row hands that are thrust out to him. The Hooch might only be 4% but the smell of good weed wafting through the club compensates.

It occurs to me that a lot of his music I'm not that familiar with- that his appearances on Dr Dre and Eminem albums makes up my knowledge of his output. It's hard not to get in the mood, though, and it's obvious that Xzibit still absolutely loves performing on stage.

What's a little disappointing is that his set is cut short, and that I'd possibly spent more time waiting for him to come on than I did watching him on stage. Also, it can be hard to see the stage when you're a short-arse like me and the woman in front of you has come inexplicably dressed as a pirate and her hat blocks your view.

Still: Xzibit. What a legend.

 Fore pics: Gorilla's Facebook album. 

Thoughts on 8 Mile

From the director of the highly suspenseful

50s crime drama, LA Confidential

a modern-day musical, revival of the genre,

A hip-hop tale with vitality and timbre

There's only 8 stories for any storyteller

Here, under the umbrella of “Cinderella”,

The lifetime dream finally come true

Recognition of unrecognised virtue

Overcoming obstacles apparent in their lives

Goodness triumphant after being despised

You might think that sounds like a film that I've seen

It was called “The Rap Rocky” by Empire magazine

As much as I'm a member of the Eminem fandom

And although I admire the works of Curtis Hanson

The 8 Mile movie that no doubt you've seen

It can't be denied was let down by routine

Sorry to the cast and crew, not gonna let 'em off,

but seriously, what was the point of Cheddar Bob?

And seriously, you were surprised by the cops

chasing you down after you'd fired the paintball shots

Splattering paint all over their car,

so you hide, leaving them wondering where the hell you are?

After beginning and middle, you know what must follow

The conclusion of the riddle landed just hollow

Rabbit feels his car plant days are through,

but the audience feels only de ja vu

Rabbit must progress himself to a higher mission

and to prove he's the best this requires nihilism

He knows that he has skill, there's nothing missing in his voice

He's broken through the rap scene of Michigan's Detroit

To win the contest of the slickest lyricist

He must show best there's no-oone as ill as this

He slags himself off in a selfless way

and takes away the argument, there's nothing left to say

It's the self-berating theme became so popular

Here are some films with that feel I've got for ya

Fight Club and Old School had the same vibe, oh,

The same can be said for American Psycho

His nihilistic style became a success

And Mekhi Phifer gave him the contest

But to get to his goal he must stay as the best

A broke-ass rapper on the cusp of greatness

So he turns down the opportunity to co-host

and chases his own goals that he's hoping for most

And there the film ends, Rabbit winning and mighty,

In a Michigan club in the middle of the nineties

He's hungry for fame, career on track

Aside from the fact he doesn't have a contract

So the film concludes with that one disparity

So I guess like in Rocky there's a similarity

in that when the titles roll and the film ends

he still hasn't achieved goals, received dividends.

My main critique and my attack on the story

is that basically all it is is “the rap Rocky”

As described by Empire and many other critics

Curtis Hanson held the fuse, and Eminem lit it

Although I enjoyed, a suggestion if I may

If the production had been made in an entirely different way

If the film had been made as a traditional musical

The press would have found it more critically reviewable

Finally I dedicate these video lyrics

To those involved who aren't around to hear it

My heartfelt condolences to the families collectively

of Brittany Murphy and Proof respectively.

Bank Holiday Rap for NaPoWriMo

BANK HOLIDAY COMES SIX TIMES A YEAR
DAYS OF ENJOYMENT TO WHICH EVERYONE CHEERS
BANK HOLIDAY COMES WITH A SIX PACK OF BEER
....THEN ITS BACK TO WORK A.G.A.I.N.

-Bank Holiday, Blur

I used all my knowledge and all my verbal tools

To think up a self-depreciating April Fools

The plan backfired because of its transparency

Our senses of humour seemed to have a disparity

Well with Facebook messages, there isn't an eraser

And what do I look like, a male Mother Teresa?

But then when I got home, hmm, how ironic,

I had to slip an Ibuprofin into my tonic

My head was gonna split to two halves from a whole,

And my throat swelled up like a horse's arsehole

So instead of hitting Milton Club for an event called Marquee,

The only thing I hit was the pillow for some sleep.

Its a good job I did, I needed rejuvenating

for the following night, and the moves that I'd be making

Going to a rave in a renovated church

Where, up on the alter in an elevated perch,

The DJ Carl Cox wouldn't stumble or falter

mixing techno and house from the booth at the alter.

The weekend's remainder was pretty subdued,

A few quiet drinks was all I could do.

I missed on Pianoman, I missed on Static,

I missed on Stu Allen, I just couldn't hack it.

I missed out on Sankeys as I didn't get a ticket,

And they'd sold out by that time so I was gonna have to miss it.

I suggested The Mill to see Miguel Campbell,

But no-one had heard of him, so that went down like an anvil.

But at the last minute, I found a winning deal,

And my mate came out to meet me for some drinks in Spinningfields.

Oh, a little bit of gossip, I don't know if you've heard this,

But The Lawn Club and Alchemist are being refurbished.

So that was my week, and another begins,

and I must return to work for all of my sins...

Confluence

Feedback group Writers Connect arranged a homework exercise a month or so ago: write a rap verse to perform at the next meeting. I whisked this up and "spat it" at the group two weeks later. It seemed to go down well, so I decided to make a music video of it. I wanted to make it as decent as possible, so I rehearsed it a few times, checked pacing, breathing, saliva control, gathered a few props, practiced with sound levels (a bit)... and then my computer broke. 2 weeks later, it's fixed and the verse is complete. Just a bit of fun. I'm not the next Immortal Technique. 

Or am I...?

0:20- snare starts

0:40- beat starts

From early beginnings on the outskirts of the city

I always bring unlikely circumstance with me

pick out a moment in space and time

on a radio show at the age of nine

Baloo arranges to take the club out

to commemorate the founding of the cub scouts

The group in their uniform are very well-dressed

But out of a sense of rebelliousness

I rock up in T-shirt and jeans

I figure we're there to be heard and not seen

everyone else is in woggles and scarves

leaving me looking the one who's half-arsed

An older cub, he was the type born to lead,

had numerous badges adorned on his sleeve

The presenter he asks what each one of them means

and the kid explains symbols supported by seams

He spoke with charisma aged only eleven

a popular jock who was known as Kevin

Or Sinny, a kid whose name you might know

was picked to play rugby for Leeds Rhinos

and later he rose to the top of his field

This kid, his name was Kevin Sinfield

Now I don't need any form or type of citation

As captain, he's one of the best in the nation.

But wait, let me take you back to '92

Cos with telling this story I'm not even through

The presenter agrees that uniform's irrelevant

as with radio, you don't have the visual element

It's liberating knowing that a city can hear ya

Then afterwards we darted to a little cafeteria

A floor or so up from the station's studio

We walked in the room, and what do you know?

Who do we see sat huddled there? (SWALLOW)

It was Peter Simon from Double Dare!

An opportunity we out not to pass

So Kev Sinny walked up and got us autographs (SHOW PIC)

I expect today that if the two were to be found

together that it would be the other way around!

The fate of the rest of the team is a mystery

So I'm signing off now from this scene of Oldham history.