BLACKPOOL: LAS VEGAS OF THE NORTH

Meet Vickie and her vibe. Leo Leigh bought her from a gift shop in Blackpool, which is a seaside town in the Northwest of England. Every time I look at it I’m overcome with lust. I went to Blackpool with Leo in January 2009 to make a film called Blackpool: Las Vegas of the North, which you can watch on VBS this Wednesday! But to get yourself all excited, click through to see the trailer. 

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I’m not entirely certain what made me suspect our new neighbors were prostitutes. My experience of the oldest profession is limited to a stroll through Amsterdam’s red light district, having a sneaky peak at the variety of gruesome wenches from the safety of the street, so it wasn’t exactly an informed guess. I suppose it was the stereotypically whorish way they dressed, the tawdry jewelry and heavy make-up, and the way they seemed to silently sneak in and out of the flat next door. I saw them very rarely and presumed they were quiet types, maybe students, but I soon began to notice a lot of nervous, ugly men of varying generations shuffle suspiciously up and down the close stairs. At first I tried to console myself by believing that the women next door were incredibly sociable and hosted parties every night of the week, but if they did they were the quietest parties I’d ever (not) heard. I desperately grasped at other unlikely possibilities–a book club maybe, a big family–but I knew it was hopeless. The flat next door was a brothel.

Back when I started this weekly blog at the beginning of the year, I wanted to interview Darkthrone's Fenriz. The reasons are pretty obvious, but he declined, stating a rigorous interviewing schedule that had just finished. I was a little bummed out but we kept in contact and he would tip me off on so many bands I would never have heard of without his vast knowledge of music. Anyway, I then tried to get him to DJ to no avail. When I heard the Actual Pain mixtape I was naturally lost for words and asked him if there was any possibility he could do one for Vice. No problem, he said. He would love to. And here it is. Intro from the man himself (including all capitals) below.

Back in March, The Horrors' Tom and Rhys, aka Spider and the Flies, made a pair of mixtapes for us called Up and Down. You all loved Up, but I think you were a little darked-out by Down. Since then, The Horrors brought out their amazing second record, and so they've been on tour in America, scuttling through record shops, buying out the vinyl history of a nation. To go with the story of the tour, Tom's made us a mix spanning the divine discoveries from Chicago to Albuquerque. Click through to read and listen to what travelling around America is like.  

Back in March, when we were trying to get some stories together for the Brazil Issue, I thought a feature on Brazil's golden age of metal would make an interesting feature. I contacted every legendary 80s Brazilian black/death/thrash band I could think of, hoping to score some interviews. I got email addresses from the official sites, went through their official MySpaces, and even emailed a university in Belo Horizonte, as Sarcófago's Wagner Lamounier is a professor of economic science there. But it was all for shit. Either they didn't speak English, didn't get the email, thought I was a waste of time, or are just plain Brazilian and don't care about deadlines. One dark hero, Vulcano's Zhema Rodero, did finally respond though, and I got as far as sending him a list of questions (back in April), but he disappeared again and never replied. Until last night.

Trash Kit are one of the finest of the current wave of UK DIY bands, an all-girl three-piece who make super catchy, slightly chaotic, no-wave tunes that make you bounce in your seat, and then even stand up and dance. 

You no longer need to be a hatchet-faced National Front refugee to join the whites-only club. The fascist menace no longer wears jackboots. It no longer flags down the number 25 bus with a hearty “Sieg Heil.” Nope, ours is a new, gentler, more airbrushed age. Feminism’s here, so now girls can dig race hate too. As the BNP’s attempts to reposition itself as a mainstream party have advanced its perimeter far beyond the usual crewcuts-n-tats brigade, we spoke to three of the more acceptable new faces of the unacceptable. What a bunch of hotties! Phwoar! Makes you aroused to be British.

On my walk to work every morning I glance around and resent the purely functional titles of the streets that I live on: Fashion Street, the place where all the clothes shops were, or Brick Lane, the road that used to house brick manufacturers. These are the products of an unimaginative society. Where's the romance? It's not like this everywhere though. Our intern Liz comes from a wonderful place–a place called Fairyland.

We know nothing about Kindness except that we love them. 

The other day the UK office was teasing one of their interns about getting kicked out of college. What, did she put vodka in the punch at a school dance or something? Then she told them the real reason that she got the boot and now they’re not "taking the piss," as they say, anymore...

SHIT, I'M LIVING NEXT TO A BROTHEL

I’m not entirely certain what made me suspect our new neighbors were prostitutes. My experience of the oldest profession is limited to a stroll through Amsterdam’s red light district, having a sneaky peak at the variety of gruesome wenches from the safety of the street, so it wasn’t exactly an informed guess. I suppose it was the stereotypically whorish way they dressed, the tawdry jewelry and heavy make-up, and the way they seemed to silently sneak in and out of the flat next door. I saw them very rarely and presumed they were quiet types, maybe students, but I soon began to notice a lot of nervous, ugly men of varying generations shuffle suspiciously up and down the close stairs. At first I tried to console myself by believing that the women next door were incredibly sociable and hosted parties every night of the week, but if they did they were the quietest parties I’d ever (not) heard. I desperately grasped at other unlikely possibilities–a book club maybe, a big family–but I knew it was hopeless. The flat next door was a brothel.

A FIST IN THE FACE OF GOD - FENRIZ PRESENTS... TRAPPED UNDER VICE VOL.I

Back when I started this weekly blog at the beginning of the year, I wanted to interview Darkthrone's Fenriz. The reasons are pretty obvious, but he declined, stating a rigorous interviewing schedule that had just finished. I was a little bummed out but we kept in contact and he would tip me off on so many bands I would never have heard of without his vast knowledge of music. Anyway, I then tried to get him to DJ to no avail. When I heard the Actual Pain mixtape I was naturally lost for words and asked him if there was any possibility he could do one for Vice. No problem, he said. He would love to. And here it is. Intro from the man himself (including all capitals) below.

LONDON - THE HORRORS' AMERICAN MIXTAPE

Back in March, The Horrors' Tom and Rhys, aka Spider and the Flies, made a pair of mixtapes for us called Up and Down. You all loved Up, but I think you were a little darked-out by Down. Since then, The Horrors brought out their amazing second record, and so they've been on tour in America, scuttling through record shops, buying out the vinyl history of a nation. To go with the story of the tour, Tom's made us a mix spanning the divine discoveries from Chicago to Albuquerque. Click through to read and listen to what travelling around America is like.  

A FIST IN THE FACE OF GOD EXTRA - INTERVIEW WITH ZHEMA RODERO OF VULCANO

Back in March, when we were trying to get some stories together for the Brazil Issue, I thought a feature on Brazil's golden age of metal would make an interesting feature. I contacted every legendary 80s Brazilian black/death/thrash band I could think of, hoping to score some interviews. I got email addresses from the official sites, went through their official MySpaces, and even emailed a university in Belo Horizonte, as Sarcófago's Wagner Lamounier is a professor of economic science there. But it was all for shit. Either they didn't speak English, didn't get the email, thought I was a waste of time, or are just plain Brazilian and don't care about deadlines. One dark hero, Vulcano's Zhema Rodero, did finally respond though, and I got as far as sending him a list of questions (back in April), but he disappeared again and never replied. Until last night.

LONDON - TRASH KIT ARE NOT GETTING SUPER HI-FI

Trash Kit are one of the finest of the current wave of UK DIY bands, an all-girl three-piece who make super catchy, slightly chaotic, no-wave tunes that make you bounce in your seat, and then even stand up and dance. 

LONDON - BABES OF THE BNP

You no longer need to be a hatchet-faced National Front refugee to join the whites-only club. The fascist menace no longer wears jackboots. It no longer flags down the number 25 bus with a hearty “Sieg Heil.” Nope, ours is a new, gentler, more airbrushed age. Feminism’s here, so now girls can dig race hate too. As the BNP’s attempts to reposition itself as a mainstream party have advanced its perimeter far beyond the usual crewcuts-n-tats brigade, we spoke to three of the more acceptable new faces of the unacceptable. What a bunch of hotties! Phwoar! Makes you aroused to be British.

LONDON - GROWING UP IN FAIRYLAND

On my walk to work every morning I glance around and resent the purely functional titles of the streets that I live on: Fashion Street, the place where all the clothes shops were, or Brick Lane, the road that used to house brick manufacturers. These are the products of an unimaginative society. Where's the romance? It's not like this everywhere though. Our intern Liz comes from a wonderful place–a place called Fairyland.

LONDON - GET WITH THE KINDNESS

We know nothing about Kindness except that we love them. 

LONDON - HOW A REFRIGERATOR RUINED MY LIFE

The other day the UK office was teasing one of their interns about getting kicked out of college. What, did she put vodka in the punch at a school dance or something? Then she told them the real reason that she got the boot and now they’re not "taking the piss," as they say, anymore...