April 12th 06

April 12^th 06

Last night was the Hydrogen Jukebox. This is really what poetry nights should be, and never are. Hydrogen Jukebox always produces an excellent standard of work, and is a forum that inspires artists to produce new work and take risks. There is a lack of pretension and an atmosphere that is charged, poetry is alive at the Hydrogen Jukebox and you can feel it. Last night was no exception. The night started with Darlo band Too many Units, and then proceeded with Kate Fox’s Hydrogen Jukebox commission “How I learned to stop worrying and love Leonard Cohen”. The piece was a mixture of stand-up and drama, as Fox begins a stand-up act and girls representing her 16 year old self begin to unpick the year she was 16 and in the process deconstruct the comedienne’s persona. The story itself is fascinating, about identity, role models and a dysfunctional family (which include her parents swinging), but more than that is a deeply personal and moving piece which is ambitious and ballsy. The piece swings effortlessly from comedy to drama, and sadness, and brings out a new element in Fox’s performance which we haven’t seen before. The piece may well be about growing up, for those who have seen her perform before it is also clear that this is a piece in which Fox is growing as a performer, taking more chances, including more range, and delving into more adult and at times bitter sweet humour. The piece was directed by Andy Willoughby, and the physicality on stage created humour that both complimented and contrasted with the text. This will not be the last time you see this piece; there is a lot of scope for further development and expansion from this commission (such as drawing out further the different versions of events, and questioning what constitutes truth and memory) and it will go on to surpass its humble origins.

Following the break Bob Beagrie and Kalle Niinikangas launched their new bi-lingual Ek Zuban pamphlet Perkele. Perkele is an old Finnish deity, who became demonized by Christianity (and is now infact a finish curse word.) Kev Howard, Shaun Lennox and Milo Thelwall provided music to accompany both poets, and the result was spectacular. Both poets provided their best performances to date. Beagrie is a true wordsmith who seemed to become possessed by the poems, transporting us to other worlds, that we are not always comfortable in. His poems are lyrical, intense and lively, and are invocations that hold the audience under his spell. Mr Niinikangas followed Bob with a menacing performance of his hard edged urban realist work, in which humour snuck up on you in the most unlikely of places, and was all the stronger for the artists unique dead-pan style.

Later the night offered the song stylings of Shaun Lennox (the Leonard Cohen of Eston)- and the beautiful Rebecca Davison(Harrison?- it was loud in there, and I was straining to hear the intro) who sang like an angel who has fallen to earth. This was the best Hydrogen Jukebox I have been to in a very long time, the night sparked with energy and offered a smorgasboard of North east talent that is second to none (where were all these people when I read in February?! I’m really trying hard not to take these things personally, but at the moment it seems there is nowt like me to clear a room!) As always the night ended with an open mic, which was as eclectic and darn right odd as ever, regulars took the stage including Mr Cabbage- a singer/songwriter who sang his song about failed romance to an 80's synth pop backing track ( including the word y-fronts in the song.) Also I had to witness my worst nightmare, I always have a terrible fear of standing up in front of an audience (so many things could go wrong, I could fart, I could vomit, I could die, or equally as bad my flies could fall, down.) One of the open mic acts got up with flies down, that gradually fell further and further down throughout their act. (I did actually shout out flies, flies, tried to warn them, but since it was me people probably just assumed that I was refering to the imaginary insects crawling round in my brain.) It was terrible, I couldn't look at the stage, and still had to look now and then to keep an eye on the situation. Always always check your flies before going on stage, get button flies if poss.

All good things must come to an end I guess, and it is sad that there are only 3 Hydrogen Jukeboxes remaining. Hydrogen Jukebox has been running for six years, and for the last three years I’ve considered it my reading home. It emerged as one of the few sources of encouragement for me at a time when I just wasn’t reading, and was beginning to give up on writing. It has been the only place I can go to read, and try out new work. It has been the only place I can read certain poems (knowing that this is a unique place that makes no distinctions between highbrow and lowbrow subject matter, poetry is liberated and for once it is all about the words.) I have to get used to the idea of Hydrogen Jukebox not being there, and sort of feel as if it’s the end of my readings era (time to go back in the box.) I’m starting to look at my writing life and worry once I’m back in that box no one will open the lid.

Favourite lines of the evening:

Later it got freezing cold

& I found a refuge

in the roadside toilet

where I slept in the urine of Norwegian lorry-drivers

dreaming of beautiful girl’s shitting

(from Mountains of Toothpaste by Kalle Niinikangas,

in Perkele- Ek Zuban press.)