A saucy bit of sauce from the source.

OK. I & I will keep this brief.

Here's a mix I cobbled together in 2003, which I stumbled across on my hard drive today.

It'd be an honour for me to accompany you on your holiday drive this summer...

http://www.filefactory.com/file/a1104fe/n/LewisTennant_Sound_2003.zip

The view from the louge room window for all of next week...

It aint half too bad. Myself on the ones and twos - it's a 320KPS file - so kinda big but worth the wait if you want a CD length mix of bassline pressure for the summer stereo...

Tunes from RJ-D2, Hype, Hospital Recordings, Neneh Cherry, Rockers Hi-Fi, Zinc, Rodney P, Dawn Penn, Skibadee, Zed Bias, Yami Bolo, Morgan Heritage + a bunch of (at the time) fresh isht I was buying that I didn't really have a name for. The press & your little brother have since started calling it Dubstep...

Let us know if you're feeling it...

Merry Christmas xx LT

Don't stop 'til you get enough (tasty greens).

So everwhere I've lived in the world you've just got to slide a little sideways from your Pack'n'Worths/Countup/No World to find an Asian grocery...


So how much do you reckon the above swag of healthy greens cost me ?

At the local Foodtown I'd say it would have been around around $15 dollars.

At my local Asian supermarket I dropped a cool $6.30 on the following:

1 x Cauliflower
1 x Brocolli
1 x Bag of Mushrooms
1 x Asparagus bunch
1 x Gai Choy bunch
1 x Bag of baby spuds
1 x Spinach bunch

And the produce is all high grade gear. It tastes and looks excellent. PLUS I'm not supporting the insane duopoly that is the mainstream supermarkets.

The exploratory foodie in me loves wandering around foreign buying lands too. It's precisely how and why I've ended up getting to know the wider Choi family. It all started with Bok, and up until this latest purchase I'd never heard of Gai. It's freekin delicious in a Horseradish meets Spinach uptown kind of a way.

While I'm enjoying these tasty greens, I may or may not be listening to

MJ getting the Reggae treatment...

Mission Mashing.

Here at Itchy Quill HQ, the royal we don't just write.

For those of you whom don't know anything about me, I'm fairly fanatical about music, having Dee Jayed fairly rigurously for the most part since around 1994 or five. I was even lucky enough to be one of 60 people from around the world to be sent to the Red Bull Music Academy...

I'm also told I do good radio shows.

So it is with some frustration of late that I find myself neither on the radio or behind the one's and two's down at your local. With that thought in mind I thought I'd offer up a couple of cheeky little mash-ups I sewed together a few years back.

If you're feeling either of them and you call (or pour) the shots somewhere with a couple of turntables, by all means get in touch. If you're feeling either of them and decide to right click and save and pour the shots privately, then all I ask is you leave a wee shout below.

Ty's "Oh You Want More?" meets KRS-One's "Hip Hop vs Rap", with a touch of Soul II Soul in the mix... KRStelTY



Overstand that the following is a mash of two complete tracks. I had no acappella or instrumental. The result is kinda dope - the beats from both tracks fight each other the whole way through, essentially making this sound like an epic-length live mix.

Cecile's "Hot Like We" meets P-Money's "The Xpedition"... Hot Like P



So, err, boop there they are.

A vistor's Tings and Things #1: Special guest writer Miles Buckingham c/o Radio Active 89FM.

It is with great pleasure I welcome the first of hopefully what will be many guest commentators to Itchy Quill HQ, Mr Miles Buckingham: cinemaphile, radio host, exceptional laksa companion, and beer conniseur. Miles has graciously agreed to post his thoughts on the 41 best documentary films according to 17 of my Facebook friends.

Many years ago, when I was but an over zealous volunteer, I met Miles at Radio Active 89FM. I later became Radio Acitve's breakfast host then moved on, as did Miles, although he returned to base camp eventually.

Being lucky enough to be paid to work somewhere like Active is still my fondest memory of employment to date: so big ups to Miles for returning, and still presenting Cinemania just after 5.30pm each and every weekday. That little featurette must have been going for nearly fifteen years now.

Miles has seen a lot of films, and I remember used to keep diaries recording his thoughts on each and every film he saw. I think Radio Active branch off into publishing and turn the highlights of these into a coffee table book, with big thick pages and glossy film stills and the like...

"First of all, I have always been a firm believer in the cultural superiority of the French. They should appologise, but, merede, zey are ze French & above such things, sacre bleu!

Made in 1969 by Marcel Ophüls, the son of the great Max Ophüls, The Sorrow & the Pity or Le Chagrin et la pitié is a monumental two part documentary that shatters the myth of an omnipresent French resistance during the Nazi occupation & the rule of the Vichy government. Interviewing an ex-german officer, collaborators, resistance fighters and a very cool gay English spy type, as well as a charming French aristocrat who not only embraced fascism, but fought in a german uniform on the Eastern Front, slowly, surely the image of a brave little rooster that pecked at the nazi oppressor, crumbles. From the dust comes an air of anti-semitism, anglophobia and a fear of communists & Soviets. Some try to justify their actions, others shrug their shoulders, and life continues. The unapologetic aristocrats mansion was still looking pretty lush, while the real hard-core resistance hero remained a potato digging peasant. Although since he is french, I am sure by the time the potatos reach his table, & the onions too, they would be delicious. If you can deal with four hours of subtitled talking heads, this film is the bomb. "Allo, Allo" is, unfortunately, a work of fiction.

The Sorrow & the Pity is also the film Woody Allen takes all of his dates to in Annie Hall. This is one of Woodys best jokes, like Steve Martin, he has become less & less funny, although unlike Steve Martin, Woody is not yet at the point where he should be shot. Peter Sellers turns in his grave to Steve Martin's Pink Panther."

A list of the 41 best documentary films of all time, according to 17 Facebook friends.

Now a while ago I posted a request for my Facebook friends to give me their opinions on the best music films of all time. Somehow this broad request got narrowed down into just non-fiction suggestions, which to be honest didn't bother me in the slightest, seeing as another of my favourite genres of film is in fact the documentary.

So with that thought in mind, I had all the faith in the world in my Facebook massive (or at least relatively large) to produce the goods once again. With the earlier list of music films I didn't comment on individual films, however this time around I'll give you the skinny on a film or two, and I'll first list the titles that really left an impression on me.

Here are the results of my latest status update request:

"OK people of good taste. Following on from my 'best films about music' post a wee while back... please post your favourite DOCUMENTARY film."

The following should be more than worthy of residing vertically under a fridge magnet...

4 to 5 on the Lewisometer:

Dark Days.
Please see this film before you die. Shot by an altruistic citizen cum accidental director, I love every single moment of this film. Full of tragedy and hope, and pretty much every other emotion in between, this is an against all odds kind of an affair set in a world within a world (cue Venn diagram?)

As I'd recommend for any film truly worth watching, in lieu of seeing it at the cinema get the DVD and pore over all the extras as well. DJ Shadow had never lent his music to anything when this came out, and had absolutely no connection to the director. After one viewing he offered up the entire soundtrack for free.

Grizzly Man
Looking like he'd be more at home on the ski slopes of France, and sounding like the bastard child of Richard Simmons and a disco ball, Timothy Treadwell believes he is at one with the Grizzly bears of Alaska, and as such decides to live with them.

A porridge free tale of man and Grizzly ensues.

Touching the Void.
The ultimate 'against all odds' story, retracing the steps of two climbers who run into trouble while descending Siula Grande, Peru. Believing he is leaving his compadre for dead, Simon Yates cuts the rope connecting himself to Joe Simpson and makes it back to base camp... as does Joe many days later.

I'd recommend watching this in company, so you can treat yourself to the inevitable 'what would you have done?' conversation afterward. Amazing.

When We Were Kings.
When I was younger I believed I was extremely open minded, though in reality I was quite a naive hater when it came to a number of things, especially sport, and especially especially violent sport. Yes I was a 20 year old wet bus ticket liberal, but you try being bought up by an academic sole female parent in the era of the Springbok tour and the Homosexual Law Reform bill. You're left automatically assuming the All Blacks would have bleeding knuckles and smell of liniment and rape should you ever have the pleasure of meeting them. Thankfully moments like seeing When We Were Kings began to open my eyes.

Muhammad Ali is the G.O.A.T. and When We Were Kings is a killer...

NB: If you dig the horny horns, then also make a point of seeing Soul Power.


When the Levees Broke.
An examination of the Bush administration's response to Hurricane Katrina.

Also a Spike Lee joint.

Originally made for HBO as a four part television series, Levees is a weighty 255 minutes, with every minute essential viewing. Thus I recommend watching this alone, or at least with someone else willing to commit. Otherwise it'll only take a "Hey man have you seen Sarah lately?" or a "I'm thinking about learning to Salsa dance!" before the film has lost everybody in the room and you're blacklisted from choosing the DVD again.

NB: A worst case scenario here is that rather than the film being lost on people who would have loved it as much as you had concentration not lapsed, you actually have somehow ended up in long-term cohabitation with morons. This will mean any number of Brendan Fraser films in the lounge over the coming months.

In-film quote that sums up Levies:

Kayne West (Live on NBC): "George Bush doesn't care about black people."

Word.

Alone Across Australia.
You know when you're up late at night for absolutely no reason other than an unplanned lack of fatigue? But you're not quite awake enough to do anything vaguely productive? So you settle on viewing infomercials, or at best a strangely scheduled 12am rerun of some kind of emergency service reality show? Do you know those times? Do you? Hmmm?

It was one such time that I stumbled across AAA on Australia's ABC. It made my week, and now it's made my best of the best list.

On the 18th of May 2001 Jon Muir and his dog Seraphine began to walk across Australia entirely on foot. 128 days and 2,500 kilometres later, Jon arrives in Burketown, becoming the first person ever to walk solo and unassisted across the continent.

Apologies for the bleeding obvious, but there's fuck all in the middle of Aussie outside of heat, and Muir faces a hell of a lot along the way. Just like Touching the Void and Man On Wire, it's a true testament to the power of the human spirit.

Stoked: The Rise and Fall of Gator.
So I initially got this out simply because I am a male child of the eighties. If you are too then chances are you know what Mark "Gator" Ragowski meant to skateboarding and to popular culture worldwide. I just meant to reminisce and kinda hoped for a decent film as well.

Now, a truly exceptional documentary to me transcends the actual topic, whereby everybody enjoys it regardless of their interest in, say, Scrabble or ponies or free Jazz. Stoked fits this criteria. Treat yourself to a tale of extreme narcissm, Eighties excess, and repugnant violent crime. Mark Gator, my friends, is a cunt.

So there is my top seven. There's absolutely no doubt in my mind that I'll probably wish I'd included this one or that one or whatever, but at the end of the day there's some damn fine viewing in just a few taps of the 'Page Up". There's also some damn fine viewing in a few taps of the "Page Down", some of which I've seen, some of which I haven't.

Like I mentioned in my earlier posting as regards the best music films of all time, I've not edited these results according to my own opinion. Take Zeitgeist for example. This film puts the fear of god into me only because I'd imagine I'm going to have to have a conversation with somebody about it one day whilst they clutch their bong and get all learned on me: that's going to be way scarier than any secret society running the planet.

The rest of the 41 best documentary films of all time according to 17 of my Facebook friends (and in no particular disorder):

Word Wars

The Aristocrats

Pumping Iron

Spellbound

Born Rich

Grey Gardens

Life & Debt

The Great Happiness Space: Tales of an Osaka Love Thief

This Way of Life

King of Kong

Earth

Surfwise

Air Guitar Nation

Sherman's March

Waiting for Guffman

Man On Wire

The White Diamond

March of the Penguins

Microcosmos

What the Bleep do we Know?

Loose Change

The Corporation

Zeitgeist

Faces of Death

... and some music documentaries that were omitted from the earlier post, but rightfully pointed out this time around...

I am Trying to Break Your Heart

101

The Decline of Western Civilisation Part II: The Metal Years

Stepping Razor

Scratch

Freestyle: The Art of Rhyme

Live Forever.

So there it is. I'd like nothing more than for you to leave comments, scream for blinding omissions, tell me you saw something that made your day as a result of this list, whatever!

As a special treat I'm now going to ask my dear friend Miles, who for many years has been the cinema reporter for Radio Active, to give us his opinion. I'll post whatever he sends me back ASAP.

Thanks to everybody who took the time to give me their opinion.

Sport? Of course I play sport.

Lawn bowling season is nearly upon us again folks. Never having been much of a sportsman, in recent years lawn bowls has finally provided me with an outlet in this department. For those of you who really get amongst it, now is the time to put the dart board away and find your local bowling green.

I developed a taste for said activity whilst living in Melbourne, where more than once we convinced a local club to let us bring along turntables and a PA. Cue a few cold ones, perhaps a cheeky disco fruit or two, and bingo: hours of intensive team play (often leaving me wondering if Mitsubishi would sponsor an amateur lawn bowling team who travel with a DJ).

So with fond memories of athletic achievement, myself and a friend went looking for suitable greens for a slightly more subdued roll-up after I moved to Auckland a couple of years back.

We played for a while in Ponsonby, though unfortunately due to the attitude of a few too many grumpy old crackers we were left a bit of a bad taste in our mouths. Fortunately we soon discovered the Grey Lynn club, and some of the friendliest people I've met in Auckland to date.

Bearing this in mind I say shame on you to the attitude of other bowling clubs in Auckland, which has seen Grey Lynn cut out of a lot of inter-club activity I suspect largely due to the fact they aren't old white men, but in fact a wee taste of Samoan hospitality right in the heart of Grey Lynn.

So anyway, if you're in Auckland over the coming months and a long sunny afternoon calls for a few cold ones and a lazy bowl, I say go and see the folks at Grey Lynn. They'll make you feel more than welcome, you'll get to hear a whole lot of mad remixes of traditional island songs, and you'll leave feeling a little better about the world.

By the way, the folks there haven't had the funds to maintain both their greens, so have turned the top one into a taro patch. Lewis likes this.

My most memorable "Fecal Incident".

Last night my mother was telling me about when she and her partner endeavoured to go to the Parnell Baths, only to be refused entry to the pools due to what a staff member described as a "fecal incident".

Apparently this was a deadly serious comment, with not a whiff of the pure comedy of said description. Imagine if Billy Connolly had fancied a swim that day. There's at least an hour of material in those two words.

Some of the most comical moments I remember are so funny due to the fact they weren't envisaged or planned or set up in any way, and I remember one such event that indeed involves a "fecal incident" and a swimming pool...

When I was around 13 or 14 our school took a trip to the local aquatic center. By the time I was ready to take the plunge, there were probably about 200 people in the main Olympic sized pool. On the other side of the pool from me was a particularly small kid for his age, from the section of our school called "The Experience Unit", which was for those with special needs.

He carefully made his way down the ladder into the shallow end, before grimacing due to the cold of the water. I'm not sure what happened in the seconds after this, and before the next bit I remember, but I can only assume he created some kind of escape route in his shorts for what was included in the next image burnt into my mind.

The next look on his face was one I can only describe as complete Nirvana:

Nirvana
1. An ideal condition of rest, harmony, stability, or joy.

As I watched his wee head peacefully bobbing around, it was soon joined on the surface of the water by a "fecal incident" Rosy or Ziggy would have been proud of.

Then it all became fascinatingly primal, and I was reminded of those nature documentaries where you see a herd of deer suddenly become aware there's a tiger watching them at the watering hole: I have never seen 200 human beings move in unison so quickly, with what appeared to be little or no direct communication.

Then there was just one small boys head and his gift, left bobbing around on top of the water in that huge, huge empty swimming pool. Once he was safe on dry land a lifeguard arrived with a giant version of one of those things you remove poached eggs from their water with, attached to a long pole.

On the way back from swimming that day my friend Kelly told me he'd later found a peanut in the pool. To this day I don't know if this was true.

Goofy is a dog, Gonzo is a pervert, and Pacman is a hockey puck...

What is often good for me when I'm about to get all philisophical about some of the goings on in the world, is when someone cuts to the chase, and manages to make my day at the same time.

I'd been thinking about typing a few paragraphs about the three quite major pieces of music news that have broken over the past 48 hours (MJ beng officially a homicide case, DJ AM overdosing and dying, and Oasis breaking up) when my good friend Spikey inadvertantly edited down what would have been 1000 words or so with the following well chosen 21:

"They were keeping MJ high so they could continue to steal from him, DJ AM was a crackhead, and fuck Oasis..."

I didn't know Spikey in the early 90's, but I'm assuming we share the same nonchant for Oasis because we both had the following on the phonograph around the time Wonderwall was released:



DID YOU KNOW?
- One of the greatest cultural icons of the 1980's would have been known to all of us as Puck Man, had a wise Namco employee not pointed out the 'P' on arcade machines would probably be altered by vandals...

Anyway. Have a play. I've filled it up with coins so it'll run all day. Just use your arrow keys see...

Blue tongues, long necks and brown spots (rhymes with riraffe).

I've just found out that if you are putting brackets around part of a sentence, you put your fullstop OUTSIDE the bracket. ( Unless the WHOLE sentence is surrounded by said brackets.) I've developed sudden punctuation amnesia, and have no idea what I've been doing hitherto. The future does look bright though.

In other news (and adding colour to what was a seriously below average day for me today), I've found a man who's friend doesn't believe he can collect 1,000,000 different drawings of Giraffes by 2011.

I'm off to sharpen my crayons...

Blacknificent things my friends have sent me in the past week...

Fresh from my email inbox, and forwarded to you, esteemed Itchy Quill imbiber...

First up is Bad Meaning Good, which first appeared on the BBC back in 1987 and has gone on to become a seminal document of the fledgling London Hip Hop scene. For those who've pondered, "What came first, the Ali G or the Westwood?" It was most definitely your boy, Westwood...



This is from the same YouTube user, 'Skratchworx', and let me tell you, a lot of his muffins and biscuits are right up my alley... here follows an hour long documentary made by Channel 4 in 1988 charting the club scene, from Hip Hop, through House, Acid and the wider dance scene.



And the following two, tongue firmly in cheek, and probably NSFW...

This video below contains some explicit cartoon scenes, flashing lights and is FOR OVER 18's ONLY. It's quite a slow feed so be patient and wait for it to load. You probably wont find another feed, as it keeps getting banned everywhere it's posted. Obiviously one persons hilarious is another persons obscene...



Directed by Eric Wareheim (Tim & Eric) in association with Warp Records and Warp Films. Music by Flying Lotus. Co Directed/ Animation by Devin Flynn. Co Directed/ Edited by Eric Fensler.

I was already diggin' this tune. Then I saw the bum-DJing and I now declare Lazer certified genius'...



Hey thanks Eru... Hey thanks Dan...

A handy list for lovers of movies and music...

A while ago I left a request via my status update on Facebook for friends to post their thoughts on the best music films they had ever seen.

What was a spur of the moment idea on my part ended up bearing quite a diverse and interesting selection of fruits. If I'd have made up the list on my own, a number of films wouldn't be here, and the list would be nowhere near as diverse (read: I think U2 suck balls, but Rattle and Hum gets a look in).

Clicking on the titles will take you to each films IMDB listing. I would've posted the torrents up, but such activity is of course illegal. Besides, some of you wouldn't even know where to ye-arrrr matey start...

Locked down in the pocket Funk music, Wattstax style...

BTW (that's the closest I get to SMS abbreviations, LOL) somehow 'music films' seemed to get lost in translation, and aside from High Fidelity we ended up with a list of 'music documentaries'. Semantics really, but I thought I'd point that out in case you feel like a huge hole was left by not including The Sound of Music or Fame or whatever. On that note feel free to add to the list via the comments thingamee.

YOUNG AT HEART

DIG

CONTROL

JOE STRUMMER: THE FUTURE IS UNWRITTEN

VELVET GOLDMINE

THE FILTH AND THE FURY

THE CLASH: WESTWAY TO THE WORLD

RATTLE AND HUM

PATTI SMITH: DREAM OF LIFE

END OF THE CENTURY

PUNK ATTITUDE

STANDIN IN THE SHADOWS OF MOTOWN

NEW YORK DOLL

WHAT UP FATLIP?

WATTSTAX

SOME KIND OF MONSTER

BLOCK PARTY

HIGH FIDELITY

BIRD

SCRATCH

BIGGIE AND TUPAC

THE DEVIL AND DANIEL JOHNSTON

GIMME SHELTER

RAY

RHCP: FUNKY MONKS

QUADROPHENIA

24 HOUR PARTY PEOPLE

BUENA VISTA SOCIAL CLUB

ALMOST FAMOUS

YOU'RE GONNA MISS ME

I THINK WE'RE ALONE NOW

RESPECT YOURSELF: THE STAX RECORDS STORY

GLOBAL METAL

METAL: A HEADBANGERS JOURNEY

Special mention for being quality gear, but not quite being 'documentary films':

'Pump up the Volume: The History of House Music' TV Series

'Dancing In the Streets' TV Series

How much for a one way ticket please?

Here's a wee taste of London's annual Notting Hill Carnival...

Not to be beaten, New Zealand's biggest city Auckland also has its yearly street parade in August, 'Boobs on Bikes'...

Hmmm. Now I'll be the first to admit the music, food and general style and fashion of the Caribbean particularly floats my boat. But that bias aside, it truly disturbs me that the best New Zealand's largest and most multicultural city can muster up for its yearly sojourn is a few Westie strippers riding bareback on the trinkets of the Methamphetamine industry.

That's not a judgement call on my part. Bakers, bankers, lawyers, strippers, journalists, teachers and tilers... there's good eggs and bad eggs throughout all walks of life, and quite frankly that's where any moral panic ends with me. I quite like motorbikes, and as for boobs, well a large part of my brain activity is devoted to them on a regular basis.

It's the event itself I struggle to deal with.

I've been to Carnival in Notting Hill London, I've been to Festival in St Kilda Melbourne, and I've been to Carnival in Cuba Street, Wellington. All involved celebrations of cultural and generational diversity, and inspiring amounts of creativity, unity and love.

Perhaps I've got it all wrong, and these cities need to follow Auckland's example and change the focus of their events. Maybe there is merit in raising the lunch-hour spirits of partition staring, internet-porn addled, tie-wearing office workers worldwide...

Give the people what they want. And deep fry it.

GO. START NOW.

I've been toying with the idea of kicking this thing off for a while now, but my biggest hurdle has been writing the first post. What's my angle going to be? Will people read it? Is the orange wallpaper conducive to sticking around for a while, perhaps even returning? Should I be travelling right up my own rectum, and the rectum of a few close others and discuss obscure Jamaican recording artists and Italian film directors? Or should I post pictures of Megan Fox and Scarlett Johansson and describe in detail my proposed involvement in some kind of human sandwich?

Too much thinking & not enough doing. Honestly it's the story of my life.

Here we are, and I'm stoked to have kicked this off. I hope you enjoy my angle on life, and I'd like nothing more than for you to contribute where you can. Right now I'm assuming I know about 5% of how to operate this thing, so expect a bit of tweaking in the future as I get more of a handle on things. I'm expecting good food, good music and good cinema to be a running theme... though who knows where this'll go.

For starters, I'll leave you with this culinary breakthrough: around a week ago news broke that an American by the name of Ron Davis had "cracked the code." Now, before all you glass barbecue toting conspiracy theorists get a wee 9/11 stiffy, the code in question is in fact a culinary one...

The story goes that years ago Davis, an amatuer yet avid home chef like myself, was challenged by his wife to try and unravel one of the most closely guarded secrets in the world of food (and commerce): what exactly are KFC's eleven herbs and spices?

In his quest Douglas gained some satisfaction in his new found hobby by 'unlocking' recipes from other chains, though the Colonel's spice rack remained chaste: until recently...

What comes as no surprise to me, is that three of the ingredients are salt, or variants thereof. We've got run of the mill (no pun intended) salt, garlic powder, which, despite its title is indeed a salt, and third product called 'Accent.'

For those of you wondering what the Accent, the eleventh of the 'herbs' and 'spices' is, it is in fact the crack-cocaine of the salt family, Monosodium Glutamate.

Actually, in saying that I continue to proliferate the uninformed paranoia that often surrounds MSG. There's actually very little scientific evidence to back up claims that it is an across the board nasty, and like with all salts this author would recommend moderation. Upon investigating how MSG got such a bad rep, it would appear it all began in the USA with 'Chinese Restaraunt Syndrome' paranoia in the late 1960s. Considering the harmonious cosmipolitan society America was at this time, it's fairly easy to see how our yellow friends were so quickly implicated...

Anyway, back to the recipe. I've tested it (and tested it again) and really is the genuine article. I recommend you buy some of that pre-packed coleslaw from the supermarket, who seemed to have cracked that recipe years ago, and work on cracking the potato and gravy code. Anybody who's got the skinny on how to make the latter just like the Colonel, please drop me a line. We can unify and fry.

How can this not be a revolution? Have you ever met anybody who doesn't like fried chicken?