023: TALES FROM THE HAUNTED CINEMA

Good morning from Yeovil, South Somerset, where I’ve been hanging out with the Town Criers:

In Yeovil, everyone dresses like this apart from me. I prefer casual slacks and a sports jacket. Many years ago, I ‘hired’ the wonderfully named (now retired) Yeovil town-crier, Bruce Trigger, to give a shout-out introduction for my album, The Continuing World of Kid Shirt. Bruce gave it the full 96dB bellow: “Hear Ye, hear Ye! My Lords, Ladies an’ Gennlemen - THE CONTINUING WORLD OF KID SHIRT!” - recorded, coincidentally, just a few yards to the right of where that photo was taken. No mobile phones back then, but Steve Sansom (who used to work in Acorn Records) kindly video-recorded it on some now-obsolete vid-format like Hi8 and promised to dub off the audio for me. He lived in Milborne Port, over the Dorset Border, about 8 miles away, so I didn’t bump into him that often. Months went by, time drifted, then I finally got hold of his phone number only to discover that the video-tape had got lost in the chaos of his life. The album never got finished / released either (due to the chaos in my own life - and the fact that it didn’t feel complete without Mr. Trigger’s Brian Blessed style vocal blast). But hey - these things happen.

Similarly, I never intended for this newsletter to turn into a Yeovil Fortean Chronicle, but the last few issue-episodes seem to constantly return to Tales of Local Weird Shit. Readers of HUMANE DEBRIS send me accounts of South Somerset Oddness, or people literally snag me in the street and say, “Hey, Kek! Did you know…?” only for me to find I didn’t. But I’m not complaining: I enjoy being a Weirdness Magnet and hearing about this stuff. If people keep uncovering stuff, then I’ll continue, er, covering it. It’s either this or knitting patterns.

So, in that spirit, here are some accounts of strange goings-on in the old Odeon Cinema in Yeovil. It’s now a huge charity shop (I’ll drop some recent pics of its interior into the piece), but I have many happy formative memories of its time as both a single and as a three-screen cinema. This is recounted by local pal, David Caldwell. I’ll let Dave set the initial scene for ya:

“Built as a theatre in 1937, it quickly reverted to a 1500 seat one-screen flick house. Converted again in the early 70s, screen 2 and 3 inhabited the ground floor, whereas screen 1 took the 1^st floor (previously the balcony area). It finally closed in 2002. The exterior rises in contours of minimal Art Deco that curve into shapes designed to play functional roles on the interior,” he told me, and this next bit has an echo of The Backrooms movie (which, coincidentally, just opened at our local cinema while I was working on this piece): “Shrouded from the public, these form secret rooms, hidden hallways and spooky stairways.”

“I worked there for several months around the Millennium. I heard many personal accounts regarding ghostly goings-on. In screen 3, after a performance has ended and the audience is filing out, a mysterious old lady is spotted. Rising from the back rows, she moves towards the exit doorway to the foyer. She appears quite real and witnesses are unaware of anything untoward until they realise no-one else has seen her. This event took place multiple times and the experience always left people in a state of perplexed confusion.

“In the projection booth is an apparition who is affectionately known as “Bill”. Every three months or so, a set of workman’s boots would materialise under a blanket which was hung to separate the two work spaces. It is believed he was working on the roof when he fell to his demise. Hence why he commandeers the upper area.

“A few years later I returned. The cinema was now a bed centre. I worked for a small company on the 1^st floor. Now conditions had changed. Small events at first. Kettles and hairdryers switching on by themselves, things that simple logic can solve. Then, one day, while in lengthy discussion with a colleague, I suddenly stopped. He could see the glazed look of shock on my face. Something had grabbed my suit jacket pocket and shook it violently. Obviously, something unworldly wanted my attention.

“I spoke to the then-owner about this. He divulged that one of the brand representatives would not journey to the 1^st floor. Allegedly something had blown very hard into his ear. Also, he and an electrician needed access to one of the abandoned stair exits. In the dark they were party to what he described as a display of dancing lights.”

Dave continues: “Later, alone, I was mooching along the large 1^st floor walkway parallel with a bank of four strip lights. Without warning they suddenly began to turn off one by one. Nervously, I checked the electrics, only to discover that the lights were linked to one circuit. The possibility of each turning off independently would seem quite remote.”

“So is there anything in the old building to be frightened of? No, the only malevolence I am aware of happened one night in 1963…

“The big draw that week was Summer Holiday starring Cliff Richard and the Shadows, so the ticket receipts would have been quite considerable. Thieves broke into the ground floor, punched a hole in an inner door and proceeded to make for the safe. It still hangs broken over the staffroom table to this day. The robbers got away with their loot this time, but soon would be caught. For it was Ronnie Biggs and the boys, their next job being the Great Train Robbery.”

Thanks, Dave!

Until next time - keep whistlin’ in the dark!

Yr pal, Kek

Law Space was one of many pseudonyms used by the Spanish writer, Enrique Sánchez Pascual aka “Alan Starr”. As was usual for post-WW2 Pulp authors, he wrote in a number of genres - mostly Science Fiction, but also War stories. He was a prolific writer of SF books, producing literally hundreds of titles for publishers Editorial Toray and Bruguera. According to his son, Sánchez Abulí, he wrote a novel a week, sometimes more! In 1955, he set up his own publishing house, Mando, for which he wrote fifteen titles under the pseudonym of Alan Comet in a series called Robot. The covers to these books are pretty wild. Here’s the first Robot Mando :

Enrique died in 1996, at the age of 77, in Sant Pere de Ribes, Catalonia. His son remembers him as an extremely vital person who was enthusiastic about everything he was interested in, “inflamed with constant ideas and projects”.

Hiya. I’m Kek. I also write stuff in a number of different genres - maybe I should change my name to Alan Nova? I also make music and art. I have a Ko-Fi that I’m using to raise cash to fund my next chapbook. If you buy anything from my Ko-Fi Shop or donate, then you’ll get a shout-out / credit in the intro to the next book (and maybe more - this is currently a work-in-progress, self-seeding literary experiment).

I just released a new album - “I Thought I’d Quit My Botox Addiction” by DEATHWISH TV - a new collaborative Noise Duo formed with my pal, Outtract. The band name, track titles and graphics all come from crappy right-wing British tabloid newspapers, especially The ugh Daily Mail (as do the torn-out Punk ‘ransom note’ style lettering), so feel free to see this project to be as much of a critique of UK tabloids as a fun Noise project. Paul and I record everything live on the counter of his record store straight onto an old analogue Teac 4-Track cassette recorder. We try to edit / tweak the material as little as possible in order to keep it raw and fresh. The CDrs are burned by me on my laptop, and the labels are all hand-painted by us together (again, on the shop counter), and each one is unique. If you live outside the UK where mailing physicals abroad is prohibitively expensive, there is also a cheaper digital download edition. I’m also happy to sell physicals directly to comrades and readers of this newsletter at a cheaper price as a thank-you for yr support.

Monochrome music for the Blank CD Generation, innit.

WRITING COMICS WITH KEK

I had a terrific time at the Taunton Convention a few weeks back, but what I didn’t tell you last time around (‘cos it was a ssssh! secret) was that the night before the show I had been invited to a 70th birthday party for UK comic book legend, Mike Allwood, arranged by his daughter, Susie. It was a wonderful evening attended by many of the usual Taunton Comic Book Irregulars as well as Industry legends, John Higgins and Alan Davis. Mike knows everyone, but he didn’t know about the party, so we were all holed up in the skittle alley trying not to giggle as Susie lured her Dad to the pub under false pretences. He had a Magnus, Robot Hunter birthday cake - how cool is that! A lot of UK industry big-names got a foot in the door ‘cos Mike was able to get their portfolios in front of American editors at his Comic Expo shows. Mike has been - and still is! - incredibly supportive of UK talent. I’m very grateful for the kindness and friendship he has shown me over the years. The Taunton shows are always great fun and super-chill. This time round I got to chat with Alan Davis about John M Burns in one of Alan’s rare public appearances. You don’t get the chance to do that sort of thing at some of the bigger shows.

Speaking of which: not long after Taunton, I was a guest at the Lawless Convention in Bristol where I got to hang out under the A1 Deadline banner with editor-publisher, Dave Elliott, and my old pal (and Taunton Irregular), Shaky Kane, for the weekend. On Saturday, I took part in an A1Deadline-related panel moderated by Matty Stokes, in which I was shocked to discover that I now own the rights to “Porn Circus” (long story / don’t ask!). On Sunday, myself and fellow writer, Ian Edginton (who I’d previously met at a 2000AD signing in London some years ago) - Guy Adams having dropped out - were quizzed by Leonard “An Englishman In San Diego” Sultana about the practice of Writing. It was a lot of fun to do, and is up on YouTube somewhere or other.

Forgive the lengthy preamble, but this was all intended to lead us into this section on, er, Writing. In the Lawless panel we may have briefly touched on the topic of Writers Block - I can’t quite remember - but “what do you do when you get stuck on something or struggle to start?” is a question that regularly pops up when people come up to me for a chat. I’ve mentioned it in this column before, I think, but Writers Block isn’t something I generally suffer from. The Blank Page - which is a source of horror to many would-be writers - isn’t daunting to me. I see all that ‘white’ space, as a positive, as an invitation to create - to write, draw, whatever. To let my imagination fly free. You should try and similarly frame The Empty Page as a friend too, if yr able.

Like most people, I do occasionally procrastinate - put off starting something. The psychology behind that is probably one of a couple things: (1) It’s a project that perhaps I’m not super into doing; or (2) It’s something I really wanna do - maybe it’s a character that I’ve wanted a shot at for a long time, so I want to get it right. Either way, my subconscious then presumably builds a ‘buffer’; it delays or distracts me until I’m ready to start. A quick way of getting into a Potentially Meh Project is to own it - to make it yours; and, by that, I mean, add some elements that you will personally find fun to do (as long as they’re not incongruous or tonally ‘off’, of course). Also: if it’s something you really don’t want to do, then do it first - get it off your desk! - you’ll enjoy the dopamine plap! of achieving that goal.

In the second instance, where I might be subconsciously delaying because I wanna really get it right, it’s essential to short-circuit any potential overthinking by blatting down ideas really quickly. In these situations the project in question is almost always either corporate IP / someone else’s creation, so maybe there’s also a niggling background thought that you want to honour the character’s creators or be the equal of creative teams who have come before you. Nah: just be yourself. Honestly, that’s all you have to do. You’ve got this gig because your voice / creative skill-set (and that of the collaborators you’ve been teamed with) will bring something that’s uniquely ‘you’ to the table. That’s why the editor chose you. Believe me: it’s really not worth the hassle of looking over your shoulder. And don’t compare yourself to others: it’s really not a good road to go down in life. Do you wanna be a creative clone of someone else - or be you?

That was a rhetorical question, by the way ;-)

If I need to break ground on a new project and I find my brane is darting all over the place rather than just quietly sitting down and getting going, then a Research Blitz is often a good way for me to start. But I do it quickly, not a deep dive (that can come later if I need specific info): the idea here is to skim through some research stuff rapidly - speed read a wiki about the character / strip and jot down whatever catches yr eye or reminds you of all the cool stuff about that character - the things you may have enjoyed, rather than the obvious stuff, if you were once a reader or a fan. If you’re having fun with the character, then that will likely translate across to the reader, and you’ll have a better shot at engaging / sucking them in. If you have some old back issues: skim-read ‘em. If not, have a nose around online, look at any pages people may have posted, See if they have a collection or a graphic novel in yr local library. Note down the things that jump out at you in terms of visuals, dialogue or character. Do it as quickly as you can.

The idea here is to start packing factoids / fave visuals / interesting scenes into yr subconscious and swat aside any reservations you might be having about taking this job on. If you have Imposter Syndrome, this’ll help flush it out. Combine the excited teenage fan inside you with the adult writer: fast-forward through the character’s past, blast out some notes ratatatat, rapid-fire. Get a feel for the character, the strip’s themes / vibe / flava. What was it borrowed from (most things are inspired by other things)? What are its themes, its underpinnings?

Now you can procrastinate. Go do something else, let this all percolate and bubble away like a coffee-maker or an alchemist’s lab. Leave it for an hour or three, or a day or two. Sleep on it. Write something else, do some admin or drudgework - there’s nothing quite like doing your tax returns to make you really wanna crack on with some writing. This process is all about turbo-charging yr memory - creating glimpses of something you haven’t done yet, but will - stuffing yr brane full of building blocks of data / imagery that yr subconscious / pattern-recognition circuits can then line up against one another in different permutations. It’s like creating an inner mind-map: you know, one of those ‘clouds’ or ‘trees’ of words and phrases, except these are nebulous clumps of info about characters / series that you’re allowing to to ping-pong around in yr noggin unfettered. You don’t necessarily even need to consciously think about it: the brane likes to ‘order’ information that it’s been given - make sense from it - so it will start piecing together stuff for you off-camera - though jotting down stuff initially or making a list / series of notes on phone or laptop (or sending an email to yrself) will get the language-processing side of the brane involved as well as pattern-recognition / intuitive cognition. You need to develop both of those in this game; get ‘em working in tandem. You can hasten the percolation process by going for a long walk or cycle ride - motion helps lubricate all this process - though I’ll just as likely pick up another piece of work and go at that for a while. I invariably have multiple projects on the go that I’m parallel-processing.

After an hour or two, or later that day, I’ll go for a coffee - I find that motion combined with a change of scenery (+ caffeine) is often a good kick up the neural ass - get out some scrap sheets of paper out or a notebook, and start writing down whatever surfaces first from the stuff I’ve been fermenting like synaptic compost. I usually find it then all just starts pouring out of me: character names, locations, dialogue prompts, glimpses of scenes, etc. Sometimes it’ll be semi-random bursts of info and I might not even know quite where they go, but the blank sheet of paper quickly gets filled up with a spider-web of scrawled… stuff. It’s the beginnings of a story, a script outline. Quite often I get lucky and the opening scene arrives - sometimes a blurry sketch; other times fully formed. And we’re off!  

After that, it then basically becomes a refining process. A Rubik’s Cube of data, images, dialogue snippets that want to become a story; you just have to pop them into place so the ‘faces’ line up. When it’s going well, I’m just a conduit for all that. In The Zone. I’ve been doing this long enough now (30+ years, professionally) that scenes / beats / arcs start accreting around those initial biro-scrawled nuggets of info and ideas. Sometimes, it can stall or I start on the wrong foot / at the wrong place, and it goes nowhere, so I’ll revisit my original notes, see if there’s something more interesting to be mined from them, a new / better springboard. If I need to, I’ll then add a new layer of series speed-skimming (or maybe even some deeper research if it’s a property I’m not familiar with), finish my coffee and allow it all to percolate for another few hours or a day, and bugger off and do something else. If needed, I repeat all this ‘til something catches fire (hopefully, not my notebook!). But, generally, I get a solid result first time round the buoy. The trick is to recognise when you’ve got something solid / decent, and not second-guess yourself. You can always improve a piece with further passes / parses if it’s not quite there. Occasionally, something magical will arise within minutes. That’s rare, but a wonderful feeling when you just know. Again, all this comes with time, practice, experience. Don’t beat yrself up if yr new to this and it needs a bit of effort initially. With time, the process becomes increasingly frictionless imho.

Hey, maybe we’ll talk a bit more about all this stuff next time round, yeah?

KID SHIRT’S CRATE DIGS

This section’s gonna be shorter than usual ‘cos I already chewed up bunch of digital real estate and I’m mindful that Googlemail might truncate some ppl’s newsletters ‘cos it’s, well, Googlemail. So m’just gonna focus on a handful of releases by pals this time; and maybe stretch out a bit more in the next ish-ep.

First up, a new tape by Charlie from Liquid Library aka Zero Gravity Tea Party that came out a month or so ago. The ghost of Angus Maclise stalks this release: it has a stoooned lo-free-fi-folk vibe that’s shot through with a spiritual / spirited AnarchoBeatnik attitood. Like, fire up the shruti boxes and the duck whistles and banish the fash to that Bardo where the Five Blood-Drinking Dieties dwell and wear crowns made from the skulls of Tech Bros. Are you ready to board the Burning Wheel of Karma, baby, with its crew of freaks and dakinis with detuned banjos, hand-drums and wheezy harmonia? You betchyerass I do!

Meanwhile, Owen aka Carnivorous Plants releases two albums - both called Red Hallelujahs and both lovely. (I’m eternally jealous-curious how Owen gets those wonderful guitar tones!) Out of the two, this one wins for me by a whisker - it has that curious sun-blasted tonality that Owen is able to so effortlessly invoke. Fuzzy, furry, yet also strangely creamy. And dreamy. It shifts and slides, rubs up against itself like soft, overlapping layers of sand or pussycat fur. Like the best of the early Fripp & Eno works (albeit with more of a psychedelic feel), Owen’s music seems to slip free of time / place / physicality, cast off its capitalist shackles, and drift outwards into some sort of self-evocative memory-space.

Green Prism (what a lovely name for an album - or anything else, fo that matter) is an album of music by the late, Bristol-based musician-composer, Keith Tippett, (re)arranged by Hilary Jeffery, and with lyrics / vocals by his wife, Julie Tippetts. Hilary met Keith at Dartington College of Arts when he was studying there and attended one of KT’s Jazz workshops. Keith became a friend and a mentor (as he did to many others - his life was as dedicated to encouraging and supporting young musicians as it was to making music; he was a great social leveller who believed in open, non-elitist access to all genres of music). Some of this album was recorded on (or around) 23rd August, 2024: I know this because I was in the very same Bristol studio recording with Hilary, Eleni and Tom Bugs the day after.

It blew my mind then (and still does) that these guys were recording with Julie Tippetts there the day before! Julie Tippetts, man! I flash back to Teenage Me, pulling a copy of Septober Energy by Centipede out of a record-store rack, recognising names like Roberts Wyatt and Fripp, Elton Dean, Gary Windo, etc on the sleeve, and thinking: What the Hell is that? A vinyl copy of The Keith Tippett Group’s Dedicated To You, But You Weren’t Listening is sat tantalisingly near me at the front of a pile of records that I can’t quite reach ‘cos it’s stuck behind another pile of… stuff. I can see it as I type this, about 6 feet away from me. Life’s strange little circles, huh?

Hilary and Eleni - like Keith and Julie - walk the same wondrous and magical creative path, forging multi-national links, building cross-discipline creative networks, encouraging people, sparking ideas and events; making wonderful things happen. I’m as grateful to them for their kindness and inspiration as Hilary is / was to Keith. The music on this album is (mostly) taken from the later part of Keith’s creative life: it’s gorgeous, touching, evocative, personal; solemn and soulful, yet also mischievous and playful.

Keith Tippett is no longer with us. But, yeah, he still is.

CHILL WITH KIKI

Whatever your current circumstances, try’n take some time out for yourself to chill in comfort. Take care, y’all.