A Christmas ghost story... of sorts

Hello you.

Here's a thing I wrote in 15 minutes today. It's kinda dumb, but it made me chuckle and I read it to some other writers tonight and they seemed to like it. It was written to be read out loud really. Hope you like it.

I DON’T BELIEVE IN GHOSTS

“I don’t believe in ghosts,” I said, ignoring the translucent grey man hanging around at the end of my road.

“I still don’t believe in ghosts,” I said, when I woke up the next day and found an old lady silently howling at the end of my bed.

“I don’t believe in ghosts,” I angrily muttered, flipping the bird at the drowned child crying in my bathroom. “Sod off.”

“No, really, I don’t believe in ghosts,” I stressed at work, when a cavalcade of headless horsemen galloped through the office and floated through the wall by the photocopier. That was a weird one.

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE,” I swore that evening, as a raven-haired Korean girl levitated through my living room. “I don’t believe in ghosts!” She glowered at me and disappeared into the TV.

“I don’t believe in ghosts,” I said tiredly as I surveyed my ruined flat while chairs flew around of their own accord.

“I DO believe I should have kept taking those anti-psychotics,” I said to the doctor the next morning. “I think I’m having a few problems…”

Will Salmon 2013

A new story

Hello. I've written a new story. It's got a rubbish title, but otherwise I quite like it. It's going to be published in the March issue of arts mag, The Bath Burp, but you can also read it here RIGHT NOW. If you want to.

Joe, 29, Patriotic

Will Salmon

How do I get into it each day? Well, I have my little rituals, y'know? Coffee. I need coffee. Without coffee I turn into a bit of a monster. And if I haven't had breakfast... oh, man. In a job like this, you spend a lot of time just staring at screens. Lots of screens! So it's important that you take care of your eyes. I've got one of those packs that you put in the refrigerator, y'know?

Chat? No, not so much. We're busy, y'know, and we like to keep the atmosphere professional. There's a lot going on, and you have to keep in contact with everyone all the time. The times where things have gone wrong are usually the times where communication has broken down. And, y'know, this is life or death, man! I mean afterwards... sure. I'll chat with some of the commuters or maybe grab a beer, but mostly I don't wanna know what people are doing at the weekend. I just wanna get in there, do my job, boom! And get out. Go home and chill.

I don't use Facebook anymore. I don't wanna be staring at a computer screen when I get home. I've been doing that for the last 12 hours, man! And there's too many people posting pictures of their kids. The things you see in this job... I don't want to think about kids. I just listen to music or go to the gym. You've gotta keep fit. A lot of the guys here... they do the bare minimum. They're nerds. I mean, that's how they got the job, right? And they're smart guys, but they don't look after themselves as much as they should. We're soldiers. I keep reminding them that, but they just keep hitting the Twinkies.

It does get rough, sometimes, yeah. Most times it's OK. I mean, it doesn't feel real. When you make a kill... it's like playing a video game. A really fuckin' good video game with, like, the best graphics you've ever seen. And then you remember and you feel... not sad. But you know on an intellectual level that you've just made somebody go away. A few people have quit because of the stress. There was this one guy, couple of months back, started crying in his chair. Totally flipped out, man! Someone else had to take control of the UAV. It was kind of embarrassing. I mean, it's not like we get much recognition from the regular forces anyway and that's not gonna help.

The thing is, we're fighting a war. Most of the people we kill, they're soldiers too. The families? Yeah, sure, it's nasty, but these things happen. Do you think they'd care if our sons and daughters were getting blown to pieces? Hell no!

My perfect weekend? Well, I don't work straight Mondays to Fridays, y'know? But when I'm off duty... I dunno. Sports. I play sports. Pretty good at baseball. Go to the movies. Sometimes I like to kick back and play Xbox. No, haha, no. Not flight simulators. Christ, can you imagine? Hahaha!

© 2013 William Salmon

Smugglers Records, Bridlington

This last one is my sole recorded output so far, as part of a school group (not choir) back in 1987. We even appeared on Blue Peter, where I had my first ever beefburger, in the BBC canteen. Fact.

We were drunk and it seemed like a good idea at the time...

Straight On Till Morning

I love this film, and not just because I wish I looked like this man.



In my mind, this is what the whole world looks like...



Get the proto-hauntology band look.



Some words by me: http://www.sfx.co.uk/2011/04/08/blog-straight-on-till-morning/

Drunken nonsense

I've just played a piece of vinyl from 1974. It's brand new. Never been played until now. That piece of wax (lordy, I always feel like a tit when I say that) has been around longer than I have. And it's just been sat there on the shelf. Waiting.

Presumably it's gone from owner to owner, but never been taken out of its sleeve. And now it's mine. I don't really have anything to add to that but, y'know, weird. It makes me think of all the other old records and books just out there on shelves, in boxes, long after the labels and publishing companies have dissolved. Just waiting to be discovered and come alive.

The record was Sacrifice by Mandingo, incidentally. Yeah, not exactly a lost classic...!

Crows, ghosts, the midnight coast...

I'M ON HOLIDAY!

And thank fuck for that. So far, 2011 has sucked quite badly. Here's to things improving...

But before I head back up North (I know... wish me luck...), here's a couple of new reviews, all originally published in Clash - which has just had a redesign and looks bloody lovely. See you shortly people.



Tinchy Stryder – Third Strike

After conquering the worlds of grime and fashion you'd think Stryder would be feeling pretty confident, yet much of Third Strike seems preoccupied with addressing his doubters. He doth protest too much. At this point his position as grime's most bankable asset looks unassailable, and this will sell a bazillion. Which is fine, if MOR rap with radio-friendly 'grit' are your thing. The problems come when Stryder strives for soulful, and comes up with Stinking Bishop like the Taio Cruz collab 'Second Chance'. It's all inoffensive stuff. But people of the UK, is that what you want from your rappers?

Rating: 4/10



Roedelius – Selbstportrait 1 and Selbstportrait Vol. 2


Two of the visionary Cluster man's solo releases get a long-awaited reissue. It's quiet, contemplative stuff; with little-to-no percussion, dreamy analog soundscapes emerge from a fog of tape hiss. Hardly the records to put on if you're in the mood for dancing, but two volumes worth of sparse electronic sketches make for an absorbing journey into the great man's mind.

Rating: 7/10



Broken Records - Let Me Come Home

Oh goody, another “new Arcade Fire”. But wait! There’s more to the Scottish sextet’s second album than that comparison suggests. Sure, they share a love of sound, fury and huge emotional peaks, but there’s a vein of gentle folk beneath the bombast.

‘A Darkness Rises Up’ is furiously upbeat and affecting, while ‘Dia Dos Namarados!’ recalls one of Nick Cave’s murder ballads. Over the course of the album, the grandiosity gets wearying, and Jamie Sutherland occasionally sounds like Vic Reeves in full club singer mode. But, at its best, ‘Let Me Come Home’ is a thing of troubled beauty.

7/10

And finally, a link to Telekinesis:

http://www.clashmusic.com/reviews/telekinesis-12-desperate-straight-lines