Issue Thirty-Six    July 26th 2013
This is the nearest that you are ever going to get to a posh weekend colour supplement from the Gonzo Daily team. Each week we shall go through the best bits of the week before, and if there aren't any we shall make some up, or simply make our excuses and leave (you can tell the editor once did contract work at the News of the World can't ya?)
Social media stuff that I am really too old to understand, (my stepdaughter spent much of last Christmas trying to explain Twitter to me) but I am assuming that at least some of our readers are younger and hipper than I am.
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So what is this all about?

It is simple; my name is Jon and I am the editor of the Gonzo Multimedia daily online magazine. Now there is a weekly newsletter, once again edited by me and my trusty orange cat from a dilapidated ex-potato shed  in rural Devonshire. 

You subscribed to it by opting in on the website. I hope that you all stay to join in the fun, but if it is not to your liking it is just as easy to unsubscribe again. But what a long, strange trip it is gonna be...
This is an unusual edition of the Gonzo Weekly, because it is actually coming out a couple of days early. We have always avoided doing anything so bourgeois as having a strict publication schedule, because we are only too well aware of the vagaries of life, and what the eternally blessed Horace Coker once described as the "wings and sparrows of outrageous fortune".

(Don't know who Horace Coker is? Shame on you)

But basically this magazine comes out every weekend, but this weekend we are not going to be here. Why?

This is why we are not going to be here this weekend. We are off to a festival. It is actually the first festival I have been to in 20 years, since I saw African Headcharge (who were brilliant) the On U sound system, John Martyn, The Manic Steet Preachers (who were awful) and Steve Harley at a three dayer in Milton Keynes back in 1993. Golly I am getting old. 

I will be accompanied by my lovely wife Corinna and my adopted niece Jessica (in fact one of my two adopted Jessinieces) who has never been to a festival before. In fact, so I have just learned, Corinna never went to a festie back in the day because her Mum wouldn't let her, so it will be a new experience for both of them!

However, as I related some weeks ago, Mama has (at the age of 84) become somewhat of a rock and roller after she came to see Adam Ant with us...

By the time the opening notes of Ants Invasion rung out, the sound was considerably better and even I was bopping (I can hardly walk today and all my joints are excruciatingly painful - I do mean limb joints). To my pleasure the set was heavy on the Dirk Wears White Sox era stuff. They didn't play Deutcher Girls which was a pity, although I suppose that in the current political climate it is not as funny as it once was. But they played practically everything else, and it was a huge bonding experience for a hall top heavy with men and women of a certain age reliving their mis-spent youth. I think I had the longest hair of any man their apart from the dude on the merchandising desk, and I was the only one in a leather jacket, but mine was far from being the only anarchist shirt on display.

One of my favourite moments was to see Mother, standing, nodding her head contentedly to the music of Whip in My Valise while 400 assorted worthies sang "Who taught ya to torture? (who taught ya?)". Sorry Penny and Steve - Punk's NOT dead!

THE WEEK THAT'S PAST: Anarchy in the UK
Last night I stayed up late watching Ian Glasper's YouTube documentary about Anarchopunk. Like his book it is called 'The Day the Country Died', and I was pleasantly surprised at how good it was, and at how high the production values were. If you are even slightly into this stuff I  sincerely recommend that you check it out.

THE WEEK THAT'S PAST: The Battle of the Beanfield.
Alan Dearling was kind enough to send me a copy of the new book from Enabler Publications about 'The Battle of the Beanfield'. I wasn't there, but I unwittingly found myself in the midst of the fallout from it a few years later, and I have never been so scared in my life.

It was the summer of 1988, and my first wife and I were eking out a living selling records (and bootleg tapes) at Record Fairs across the country. It never occurred to me that there would be any problem at all driving down the A303, and on the way down to Andover (where that weekend's event was held) there was no problem whatsoever.

However, as we made our weary way homewards we found ourselves in the middle of a peculiar situation. Seemingly out of nowhere a whole throng of alternative types, complete with Gypsy caravans, donkey carts and the like were trudging along the road towards the stones, where they were met by a throng of sinister looking policemen who stopped every vehicle issuing warnings. Above us two police helicopters circled like birds of prey, and I suddenly found myself in what appeared to be one of Mick Farren's nastier novels.

The nearest policeman waved us down, and asked us our business. I explained that I was a nurse (true at the time) on my way back to Exeter, and that I hadn't even realised that it was the solstice (also true) and although the policeman was curt and unfriendly he let us go. It was neither my first or last encounter with the bullyboys of Thatcher's Britain, but it was one of the most uncomfortable.

Then, five years later, almost exactly the same thing happened, except for the fact I had much longer hair and was in a dilapidated old van. We were driving once again to Andover, to see a gig by Al Stewart, and stopped off in the car park at Stonehenge for a pee and a cuppa. We were summarily moved on by an aggressive policeman who took our license number and threatened us with immediate arrest if we didn't leave the area immediately. I was in no mood to argue, so I did as I was told, and we made a heck of a detour to make sure we didn't go home that night via the A303.

As I wrote last week, the level of brutality described in the book is palpable, and I cannot recommend it highly enough to anyone who wants to know what happened to the British counterculture.

Buy it from the author

THE WEEK THAT'S PAST: Dave McMann points out that this gig looks as if it will be fantastic!

Check it out boys and girls. Dave will be there...
THE WEEK THAT'S PAST: A letter from Alan Dearling
Hi again Jon
I head over to Amsterdam tomorrow to take part in the Symposium (posh name!) and festival that is Landjuweel at Ruigoord. Some info attached. It is a celebration of 40 years since the little island was transformed into a vibrant arts and cultural centre.
I'm also hoping to recruit contributors for the potential alternative Netherlands book. I have a good camera with me and recording gear, so hope to write you/Gonzo, an interesting account on my return post 29th July.
Mean-a-while, camped for four nights at last weekend's Stone(d)haven Folk Festival. Lovely place and easy-going atmosphere. The weekend passed in a haze of cider, real ales and sweet-smelling herbs down by the harbourfront. Met lots of interesting people and a number of interesting nutters. Good craic, Lots of pubs and other venues - many of them open, free sessions. Many had travelled over from the Nordic countries, America and Australia to join in the merry throng.Top pic is yours truly with singer, Lenny Helsing from the Thanes and Wildebeests.
I don't count myself a folkie, but live music is a drug, and it was in abundant supply. My personal faves were The Trybe. A three piece with guitar, bagpipes and an array of drums (in the two pics above). Fun-filled, more than a touch of naughtiness, with their hybrid songs such as Hotel Caledonia (a distant cousin of a similar tune by the Eagles!). Lots of good sessions in the local pubs and outside them. Highly recommended.
luv n' respect
 Alan (Dearling)
THE WEEK THAT'S PAST: And also from Alan - Ruigoord’s Third Futurological Symposium on Free Cultural Spaces

Space Is the Place
― Sun Ra

Free Cultural Space Is the Place! More particularly, the place is Ruigoord Culturele Vrijhaven, which on the 23rd and 24th of July 2013 will host the Third Futurological Symposium on Free Cultural Spaces. This year, again under the inspirational chairmanship of Felix Rottenberg, The Cosmopolitical Parliament welcomes an international group of presenters from important Free Cultural Spaces. Central aims of this year’s Symposium include generating a comprehensive collective vision of the extraordinary value and essential importance of Free Cultural Space and refining and publishing a Declaration on The Universal Right to Free Cultural Spaces.

Read on...
Only two more shows for you this week, mostly because of my other commitments (I forgot to tell you that as well as everything else, we did another animal rescue this week, and now are the proud owners of a small covey of quail). However, there are some exciting things afoot with another entirely new station being added to Gonzo Web Radio, and a total revamp of the radio index.

Watch this space.
Canterbury Soundwaves #17
Date Published: 23rd July 2013

Before Canterbury Sans Frontières was Canterbury Soundwaves a show which creator Matthew Watkins described as "exploring the so-called `Canterbury Sound`, its many roots, branches, twigs and accompanying mycelia in 28 episodes (November 2010 - January 2013). We, the little fellows hiding behind the scenes at Gonzo Web Radio are proud to announce that as well as Canterbury Sans Frontières episodes as they happen, all 28 of the back catalogue will also be hosted.

EPISODE SEVENTEEN: Featuring an interview with guitarist Mark Hewins about his various collaborative work with Elton Dean, Pip Pyle, Hugh Hopper, John Greaves, the Miller brothers, the Sinclair cousins, Gong, Lol Coxhill, Lady June, etc., as well as his innovative guitar styles. Also, early B-sides from both Kevin Ayers and Gong, some Soft Heap, and more Canterbury-sourced hiphop (this time, Wu-Tang's Ghostface Killah spitting over a '68 Softs loop!)

Playlist for this episode
Listen here...

Canterbury Soundwaves #18
Date Published: 23rd July 2013

Before Canterbury Sans Frontières was Canterbury Soundwaves a show which creator Matthew Watkins described as "exploring the so-called `Canterbury Sound`, its many roots, branches, twigs and accompanying mycelia in 28 episodes (November 2010 - January 2013). We, the little fellows hiding behind the scenes at Gonzo Web Radio are proud to announce that as well as Canterbury Sans Frontières episodes as they happen, all 28 of the back catalogue will also be hosted.

EPISODE EIGHTEEN: A tribute to bass legend Hugh Hopper (1945-2009), from teenage home recordings via the Daevid Allen Trio and Wilde Flowers to Soft Machine, Isotope, Gilgamesh, Soft Heap, Soft Head and beyond. Featuring Hopper classics and obscurities, as well as something from one of his favourite albums, covers of his compositions (even a hiphop beat!), numerous collaborations, an exploration of his involvement in the genesis of tape looping in the early 60's, interview clips, a rare chance to hear Hugh singing(!) and the current sounds being made with his famous Fender Jazz bass (still resident in the Canterbury area).

Playlist for this episode
Listen here...

For more news on Strange Fruit CLICK HERE
For more news on Canterbury Sans Frontières CLICK HERE
For the Gonzo Web Radio homepage CLICK HERE

THE WEEK THAT'S PAST: What's been did and what's been hid
I am growing up in public, as it were. The Gonzo Weekly has been going for nine months now, and we are beginning to find our feet. I am making changes as I go along, and - no doubt - some of these changes will turn out to be mistakes. So, let me know what you think. Do they work? Do you like them? Hate them? Or don't you care either way?

Please pass this magazine around as far and wide as you can. And encourage as many people as you can to subscribe. Remember it is free, and will remain so. However, I want as many subscribers as possible to move on to the next stage of the party. There might well be cake.

Remember, I am always looking for new authors. If there is something that you feel you could add to the general melange which is the Gonzo Weekly, please email me at The more the merrier.

Although this newsletter also goes out in a plain text version for those of you who do not trust image intensive thingys in your browser, I promise that as long as it is technically feasible (which will be for the forseeable future) the text only mailout will continue. However, I strongly advise that for you to get the best out of this rapidly evolving publication, that you really should see it in all its picture-led glory.
Remember, if you want more than your weekly fix of this newsletter you can check out the Gonzo Daily, which - as its name implies - does much the same as this newsletter but every day. It also features a daily poem from Thom the World Poet, and the occasional non-Gonzo rock music rambling from yours truly, plus book and gig reviews from our highly trained staff of social malcontents. And its FREE! You cannae say fairer than that!
Each week, some of you seem to recognise me. Yes, I am indeed that weird bloke off the telly who chases mythological animals. I have a day job as Director of the Centre for Fortean Zoology, and also the editor of the CFZ Blog Network, and publisher of a plethora of books about mystery animals.
THOSE WE HAVE LOST: Mel Smith (1952-2013)
A news report on Mel's death
Our tribute to Mel Smith (a song written by Judge Smith)
Mel Smith at Wikipedia
COVER STORY: Life with Captain Beefheart
Gonzo Multimedia recently published a new edition of  Lunar Notes the extraordinary life story of Bill Harkleroad, otherwise known as Zoot Horn Rollo of Captain Beefheart's Magic Band. Co-written by Billy James, it is a remarkable story, and one which has been unavailable for too long. 

I caught up with Billy via telephone, and you can listen to our conversation HERE
And now an exclusive extract from Chapter Three of the book..
The early band rehearsals were mild compared to the intensity of later ones.  But I wasn’t to know that then.  Perhaps the first indication of the direction the music was taken was when Jerry Handley left the band. I’ll never forget him turning round and saying, “Where’s the blues tunes?”  By that time we were kinda beginning to push the edge – it wasn’t Trout Mask material but it was on the outer edges of Strictly Personal.
I was starting to stretch out from a strictly blues mentality myself.  Before I joined the band I had listened to a lot of John Coltrane, Miles Davis and Thelonius Monk.  At that time within the band all those things were talked about as acceptable influences.  Later on, all that was scrapped for the “art” of the band – seemingly condemning those jazz players for playing notes.  Certainly, I was starting to embrace music which was a step farther out on a limb, like Ornette Coleman, Albert Ayler, Stockhausen and Harry Partch.
Early on I learned some of the old songs – “Sugar & Spikes” and all the Strictly Personal material – I wasn’t part of the Mirror Man album even though my photo ended up on the cover.  The first thing Don wanted to do was re-record the entire Strictly Personal album.  So for my first “official” recording session I was of course as nervous as hell.  The studio had a cold feeling to it, kind of like a storage room in a typical grade school.  Frank Zappa was the engineer/producer for the occasion, and this only added to my tension.
The amplifier of choice (not mine) was a Fender Dual Showman that was taller than me.  We recorded three tunes: “Moonlight On Vermont”, “Veteran’s Day Poppy”, and “Kandy Korn”.  The band was John French on drums, Jeff Cotton on guitar, Gary “magic” Marker on bass, and me on guitar.
“Moonlight On Vermont” and “Veteran’s Day Poppy” ended up on Trout Mask Replica; I never heard “Kandy Korn” after that day.  During the time we were rehearsing the rest of the tunes we got word from Victor, Don’s cousin, that the album was already out! Sure enough, Victor showed up one day with it under his arm.  Don exploded!  He was in complete shock.  The way I understood it from Don was that Bob Krasnow, the band’s manager prior to me joining, had taken the master tapes and done a special number of them without anyone’s permission.  It being the time of LSD accounted for all the phasing and so-called creative mixing.  This was my first introduction to Mr Krasnow, and I have to say that in subsequent meetings it never got any better.  John French might say differently – apparently on tour John would be in some shoe store and he’s say, “Man, those are great shoes”, and Krasnow would go back and buy them for him and leave them in John’s room.
My experience with Krasnow was altogether different.  He just treated me like a little asshole and was extremely rude to me.  But for a while he was big in the overall picture and pretty big buddies with Don, even after the business over the Strictly Personal tapes coming out, which indicated to me that Don couldn’t have viewed it as that traumatic an experience.
I was pretty excited about the first set of tunes I was learning because they were a huge transition from the material on Safe As Milk, which at the ripe old age of 16 had blown me away to the extent that I knew all the tunes inside out – in fact, I still think it’s a good album.  The new material had that blues feel, but creatively had taken a large step forward.  “On Tomorrow” was like an extension of “Abba Zaba”, combining African and delta blues rhythms.  The out-take recording of “Beatle Bones and Smokin’ Stones”, which I was learning my parts from, was just incredible.  This was the first time I really got a sense of Don’s powerful imagery, and the way he used the strings just killed me!  With the amount of slide parts and the need for a very aggressive right hand technique, I was definitely geared up to play this stuff.
The early guitar parts carried the influence of former players, namely Alex St. Clair, Ry Cooder and Jerry McGee.  There had also been another guitarist named Junior Medeo, a friend of Zappa’s who only lasted a month or so.  So it fell to Jeff Cotton to show me what to play and in some respects how to play it.  Jeff definitely had his shit together; he knew both guitar parts to most of the tunes, and as always was very easy to work with.  But if I may blow my own “Horn”, I was a quick learner and slide playing, tunings, and finger style playing were not at all new to me.  I did, however, have to get used to wearing those nasty metal finger picks that are generally used only for pedal steel.  At first they were cumbersome and very painful to use, but after the bloody messy calluses healed, they became like “snap-on-tools”.  They were certainly very much part of the “Beefheart sound”.
Contrary to what was written on Trout Mast Replica, I never played flute with the band.  I brought it with me to the early rehearsals because I’d been playing it since high school.  I had practiced it to the point where I could play a few jazz standards like “Take 5”.  Basically, because I’d been playing it in previous bands, I thought I knew how to play it.
Just as Zappa had given Don the name Captain Beefheart, so Don bestowed those of us in the Magic Band with our own nicknames.  The name Zoot Horn Rollo came up quite early on.  At first I thought, “What? I don’t know if I like it”.  Then I had a change of heart and thought, “Oh whatever – I’m in the Beefheart band  and this is the coolest thing on earth. I’m going to be rich and famous and I don’t even have to go to college”.  I guess the name actually fit with this strange music we were playing and in time I felt pretty comfortable with it, and still do.  I think it’s actually quite cool.  In that sense Don’s way with words was lyrically beyond what I was able to hear – I was a music guy.  So, the name was cool, but it wasn’t like I was having to adopt a completely new identity because of it.
Jeff Cotton became “Antennae Jimmy Semens” on steel appendage guitar.  Jeff and I went back a long way.  Where I grew up there were three guitar players in town.  The other two were a guy called Ron Peters and myself.  Jeff had played in loads of bands.  He was in Lancaster – I was in Palmdale.  It was kinda like a Jessie James and Billy The Kid situation.  It reminds me of the joke, “How many guitar players does it take to change a light bulb?” Answer: “One. And nine to say they could do better”.  Then we started hanging around together and taking acid.  I started turning him on to the bad things in life and that’s when we became buddies.  He was always a very high energy, intense guy and always very, very nice.  I don’t remember that much about us playing together – it was more about human aspects with Jeff.
So, there was that issue in the beginning – maybe it was just me.  I’d hear the guy playing something and think, “God, I can’t do that – what the hell is that?” and soon I would learn what “that” was.
Jeff definitely started to show more of the strain early on.  He very quickly became intimidated by Don and lost his willpower (just like the rest of us did eventually).  Certainly, by the time I joined the band Jeff was just so much more hyper compared to when I had known him previously.  Through him I picked up some vibes that were very uncomfortable; only later did I understand why that was.
Then there was “The Mascara Snake” on bass clarinet and vocals.  Victor Haydon was Don’s cousin and was also a painter.  He couldn’t play a lick but had a lot of attitude.  But merely wearing a plastic showercap and making clever comments didn’t make him a player, at least as far as I was concerned.  If I was to see Victor now I’d be tempted to say, “Hi – were you really in the band?  What exactly did you do?!”  We worked our asses off and he showed up with the “tude” and a horn.  I’m  not sure I would say that he played it, so much as pushed air through it.
Quite frankly it pissed me off.  I appreciated his art and attitude in that sense – but there was something going on with him I didn’t understand.  Probably a very nice person but there was so much attitude you couldn’t get to it.  I was pissed off because he hadn’t developed any talents on an instrument.  Underneath it all, that remained important to me, no matter how much we were doing “art” as opposed to typical music.
Edward Claude "Cass" Cassidy (May 4, 1923 – December 6, 2012) was an American jazz and rock drummer who was one of the founders of the rock group Spirit in 1967. He was also a friend of legendary surf guitarist Merrell Fankhauser, and they worked together on many occasions. I spoke to Merrell about his work with Ed and his stepson Randy California. You can listen to our conversation HERE
Two and a half thousand years ago Lao Tzu said "The more we see, the less we know", and it is a truism of which I am reminded every day. Once upon a time I used to bluff my way through life, but as I get older I don't bother any more. If I don't know the answer to something I say so.

The other morning I got an email from the lovely Anne-Marie at Gonzo asking me to write the sales notes for an album called Wild Connections. There was one small problem. Although I knew who Jack Lancaster (the legendary producer who also played with Blodwyn Pig and Mick Farren amongst others) I had no idea what the album was like. So there was only one thing that I could do - I telephoned the man himself and asked him...

JON: Tell me about ‘Wild Connections’.  

JACK: You haven’t heard it? 

JON: I don’t know anything about it.

JACK: It’s actually a fairly peculiar experimental album really. It’s just – do you know Barry Morgan? Barry Morgan is the drummer out of Blue Mink and he had his own studios in London so it was me, Barry and Rick van der Linden, the Dutch keyboard player.  It was an experimental album because it was completely synthesised, except for the drums of course.  Rick and I wrote the stuff in Holland. We went to his house near Hilversum and wrote it there. But, you know who Rick is?

JON: Wasn’t he in Focus at one point?

JACK: He did play with Focus yes.

JON: That’s where I know him from.

JACK: I don’t think he was a regular guy in the band though.

JON: There was a friend of mine when I was a kid about 15/16 who was an enormous Focus fan and so I spent many happy hours smoking suspiciously long cigarettes and poring over the notes on the back of Focus albums. That’s where I know the name from.

JACK: Yeah right, with …. How I met Rick actually, I was over there actually producing a band that Phonogram in Hilversum â€“ Kayak - and Rick was doing a session for them, and he had a GX-1.  A GX-1 was like a Yamaha keyboard that Keith Emerson was the only other guy I knew with one.  It was like a Yamaha keyboard was like three manuals – three keyboard manuals - foot pedals and I guess it was FM synthesis, this whole thing; it was massive and he had speakers with it, and everything and it looked a bit like a Wurlitzer organ or something. But it was in fact a synthesiser, and so the whole album is done on that … on the GX-1.  It was FM sequence if you know what that is – frequency modulation.  

So it was almost like a forerunner for the DX7, and so Rick and I wrote a bunch of stuff for that, and the lyricon … I was on lyricon, I didn’t play any horns at all. And it a was wind control synthesiser thing, but an early one that was completely analogue. And I was triggering mini  Moogs and playing parallel chords and stuff on a harp with it as well.  Now Rick was a kind of rock player with a baroque background. I know that sounds peculiar.

JON: It sounds very interesting.

JACK: So there is a lot of baroque and rock and roll.

JON: I’m going to pinch that line if I may

JACK: Ok. So I was configuring the synth with the wind control and he was doing that and we did all these arrangements based around that. Then we put like a 20 piece choir on some of the stuff – not all of it – which was the English Chorale – you must have heard of them. They do the LSO stuff as well.  With Barry Morgan on drums. We didn’t have a bass player because Rick was a really heavily schooled organist and when he was a little kid he played in cathedrals in Amsterdam and all over the place when he was a kid so he was very good at playing foot pedals. And he developed a style where he was able to play some really funky stuff on the foot pedals while he was playing these three keyboard manuals. So the whole thing was based on that really.

JON: So how did you decide … how did the project come about?

JACK: It came about just with Rick and I chatting.  And then going to … Chris Yule,  a friend of mine had just left Stigwoods - he was the head of Stigwoods Music Department and he was  starting his own record company - and he said that he was interested in it as an experimental thing you know, because he was into experimental music. So he took it and it was distributed by Arista – this was the original version. And it’s all self-penned except for the ‘Carmina Burana’ thing that’s on it. What I mean by self-penned, I mean either Rick or I wrote the stuff.

JON: I am looking forward to hearing this.

JACK: You might find it a bit experimental and out of line, but..

JON: Well experimental is good as far as I am concerned.

Read on...
A psychedelic landlady who worked with both Robert Graves and Kenny Everett, and was indirectly responsible for Robert Wyatt being in a wheelchair? Surely not!
June Campbell Cramer was a stylistic and personal link between the eccentric post war British avant garde scene, the Beat movement, and the rock and roll dreams which followed. She was born on 3 June 1931 in Doncaster in Yorkshire, England of Scottish and Russian parents who raised her according to the strict rules of the Plymouth Brethren, a conservative Evangelical Christian movement. However, in an act that one would have imagined would have been anathaema to the elders of the church, in the late-1940s, her father, a fashion retailer, took her to the Spanish island of Majorca where he introduced her to modelling. June moved to London in the 1950s where she worked as a model and studied at an art college but in the early 1960s she returned to Majorca where she continued modelling in Palma.
In Palma June met several musicians including Daevid Allen and Kevin Ayers, who later were founding members of the Canterbury bands Gong and Soft Machine. June later moved to the coastal village of Deià on Majorca, home of English poet Robert Graves. Allen said to live there "you had to have some sort of satisfactory relationship with him [...] Robert was very tolerant of June, and she hung out with him."
June began painting in Deià and put on several exhibitions of her works there as June 'Onion', hanging an onion over each piece as her signature. Her paintings, and later her poetry, were filled with elements of "surreal humour".

In the late 1960s June moved into a flat in Vale Court in Maida Vale, London, which she opened up to many musicians to lodge in or just "hang out". Daevid Allen described her flat as "London's premier smoking salon", and her role of "landlady to many of the capital's more creative musicians" spawned her honorary title of "Lady". She hosted many parties there, including a notorious birthday party in June 1973 for Gilli Smyth, Allen's wife, during which ex-Soft Machine drummer Robert Wyatt broke his back when he fell from a third-floor window.
By 1970 June was combining her painting, poetry and music into multimedia presentations, and in 1972 she gave performances at a number of venues, including the International Carnival of Experimental Sound in London, and at the Edinburgh Festival. In 1973 she worked on the BBC Radio 4 series If It's Wednesday It Must Be... with Kenny Everett and Vivian Stanshall, and participated in a Radiophone Workshop for BBC Radio 3. Later that year she recorded Lady June's Linguistic Leprosy, an album of her poetry to music by Ayers, one of her tenants, and Brian Eno, who lived nearby. The recording was made in the front room of her flat in Vale Court with Ayers, Eno and Pip Pyle, and reportedly cost £400. Richie Unterberger at Allmusic called the album "an eccentric piece of work" with songs that are "odd, whimsical, rather surrealistic spoken poems, delivered in a quirkily aristocratic manner"
The original release was originally a limited pressing of 5000 copies which quickly sold once followers of Eno and Ayers realized that they contributed to the recording.

Tuija Takala writes:  â€œThe original idea […] is based on years of academic work on the ethics of genetics by Matti Häyry (prof at the University of Manchester, UK) and myself (University of Helsinki, Finland). Our combined publications in the field include more than a dozen international books and numerous scientific articles. 
The initial storyline was developed on the back of some of our research topics (savior siblings, immortality treatments, genetic engineering, and designer babies), but soon, as an American-Canadian-Finnish-Swiss collaboration, it became to include the expected human interest stories of rivalry, jealousy, love and death. To help with the music, Corky (Laing, the legendary drummer for Mountain) was invited to join us, and he has since become an integral part of the production team more generally”.
She continues:
“One of the key advantages of this project is its close connection with the academic world. The idea for the rock opera has already been presented at Universities in Finland and in the UK, and at international academic meetings. The response has been enthusiastic. For Summer 2013 we so far have two concert shows lined up at international academic conferences in Europe (Paris, France and Basel, Switzerland). In addition, there will be seminars and workshops in University settings in Europe.
However, while the Opera rests on solid academic research, it is intended for the public at large. The University connections are important and provide a good starting point, but the music and the storyline are definitely meant for to reach larger audiences.”
The synopsis for the opera is massively intriguing:
ACT 1[i]
Luke, a 110-year old blues singer, enters Happyville at the break of dawn, nails the contract that sentenced him to indefinite life through medical experimentation on Mr C’s office door, and takes a lethal overdose of pills and liquor.[ii] Luke’s ethereal body climbs up to the Terrace of the Gods. Gods are discussing the long-term lack of prayers from humankind. When they learn that Luke should have died years ago, and that he comes from Happyville, the town that has had the lowest prayer rate for years, they decide to send him back to find out what is going on.[iii]
Coming back down, Luke witnesses, as a flashback, the creation of designer twins Tony and Alex by their parents and Mr C two decades ago.[iv] He also witnesses Tony’s return from college and an impromptu celebration in his honor.[v] The twins and Tim, Ron, and Kevin (survivors of a lethal genetic disease) get together, reminisce about their teenage band and sing about love as they see it now. Tony sings about college girls[vi] and Alex sings about his secret love for Sophie, the young woman helping her Father at the Organic Vegetable Store and part-time assistant to Mr C.[vii]
Celebrations are interrupted by Tina, Tim’s sister, who rages about people partying while her brother is dying.[viii] Luke asks what this is all about and he is told that, as a side effect of genetic treatment, Tim is now at the end stages of leukemia. Tim’s fate prompts Tony and Alex to evaluate their relationship with each other.[ix]
Tina refuses to accept Tim’s imminent death and starts gathering people to be tested, so that one of them might help Tim. They all sign the standard disclaimer. But none of them is a match, not even Tony who is the last in line.[x] Sophie helps Mr C in the procedure, and when the testing comes to an end, her eyes meet Tony’s. Love comes in many shapes and forms, but life is a fine line that connects the past, present, and future – how peculiar.[xi]
During the night, Tim dies and wanders into the interspace of those who do not belong. There he meets a variety of other-worldly creatures.[xii]
Next morning, Sophie and Tony arrive at the Vegetable Store, where Tony’s parents are shopping, and tell about their plans to be together. The news is not well received by Tony’s parents, who wanted their perfect child to have a perfect wife.[xiii] After Tony and his parents leave, Sophie and her Father confront each other. Father, a single parent since Sophie was an infant, expresses his anguish about losing his daughter. Sophie expresses her resolve to change her life. The argument ends up with Sophie running away.[xiv]
Alex and Tony have put their old band together. While they are tuning up, it transpires that they are both in love with Sophie. A confrontation ensues.[xv]
Contemplating Tim’s death, Tina realizes that she should move on, but does not know exactly how.[xvi] She is briefly consoled by the feeling of sisterhood offered by the Constable and her colleagues,[xvii] but finally finds her true spirit in her own self and individuality.[xviii]
Sophie has been missing since the confrontation with her father and townspeople are looking for her. The row with her father made her question who she really is and where she belongs. She has spent the time with her computer and is finding out about the genetically manipulated origin of Happyvilleans. She also uncovers the fact that she is not organic, as she had always thought, but genetically modified. Tony, the first one to find Sophie, sees this information over her shoulder and freaks out. He wanted Sophie to be natural and not manipulated like he is.[xix]
Sophie is taken aback by his reaction and continues her search. Alex enters the scene and expresses his longstanding love for Sophie on deaf ears.[xx]
Sophie gains access to the most secret file - it transpires that Mr C is Sophie's biological father! She pushes print and information starts pouring out from printers all around the town.
Townspeople gather around to see what the commotion is about. As the printouts are distributed and read, anger towards Mr C grows among the crowd. Their secrets have been exposed, they have been cheated, they have been overcharged, and they have been deceived. As Mr C arrives to his office, he is confronted by an angry mob. Luke calls out for the Gods, and points out Mr C to them as the cause of the declining prayers. Gods strike Mr  C dead with a lightning. People, aghast, freeze.[xxi]
After a moment of shock and disbelief, the townspeople gather themselves. The evil man died. It was not their fault, nothing is their fault, and, little by little, life goes back to normal.[xxii]

[i]    Gods March
[ii]    Luke
[iii]    Dilemma of the Gods
[iv]    Perfect Boy
[v]    Tony’s Return
[vi]    College Girls
[vii]    Silent Dream
[viii]    Awakening
[ix]    Open Up Your Imagination
[x]  Testing the Town
[xi]  Jupiter
[xii]  Tim’s Requiem
[xiii]  Not Good Enough
[xiv]  Father’s Lament
[xv]  Crying Shame
[xvi]  Journey
[xvii]  Sisterhood
[xviii]  Vital Stream
[xix]  Tony’s Reflection
[xx]  Eyes in the Mirror
[xxi]  Mr C’s Demise
[xxii]  In This World

A couple of weeks ago, the legendary Mick Farren, the revolutionary man of letters that I have often aspired to be when I have not been aspiring to be something completely different, sent me a copy of his new novel - Road Movie. It is as good as one would have hoped, if not better, and this week thanks to those jolly nice people at Penny Ante editions, I am in the glorious position of being able to publish a chunk of it, exclusively for you.

Ain't life grand? 
Big-hearted warrior for a better world

Jon Elliott: from the Canterbury Times

Jon Elliott, the man who put a stink bomb into the ballot box during the last election, has had his sentence increased, from a curfew, to six weeks in prison.

He’s been in the news a lot lately. First of all he was bound over to keep the peace, having rushed at Prince Charles’ car before the ceremony of enthronement for the new Archbishop of Canterbury in March this year.

He got in all the national newspapers for that. He was described as “lunging” at the car, but Jon says he thought it was David Cameron, and he was trying to put a leaflet on the windscreen.

After that he was given a split curfew for the stink bomb protest. He was only allowed to leave the house between twelve noon and six pm, and then again after ten pm, which was effectively an eighteen hour curfew. The man who put on his tag said it was the strangest sentence he’d ever heard of.

When Jon went to appeal, the judge decided to increase his sentence instead, describing the protest as “a dangerous political act”.

Pardon? It was a stink bomb. He was hoping to kick up a stink about the state of our democracy. Unfortunately the ballot counter who found the offending item mistook it for poison – Sarin gas and terrorism having been in the news lately – which undoubtedly gave her a fright, for which Jon apologised.

The worst you can say about it is that it was a little bit thoughtless, that’s all. Maybe he would have done better to have exploded the stink bomb in the box, thus making the terms of his protest clear.

At this point I would like to make something clear. Jon is a friend of mine. He is not “dangerous”: he is passionate. He is not “jobless”: he is disabled. He is a big-hearted warrior for a better world, but he could never do any harm, as anyone who has met him will confirm.

It’s funny that, while the war-criminals go free and even thrive in this world, it’s the protesters who end up in prison.



(The Masters of the Universe do seem to have a steady stream of interesting stories featuring them, their various friends and relations, and alumni). Each week Graham Inglis keeps us up to date with the latest news from the Hawkverse..

A video has surfaced on YouTube this week, by none other than Hawkwind's Tim Blake, showing Dave Brock and the newest member of Hawkwind, sax player Michel Sosna.

Tim comments, "The Polish saxophonist Sosna has been bringing quality sax playing to Hawkwind's "Warriors on the Edge of Time" set," and the fans concur.

Sosna is from the band Hipiersonik, who played support to Hawkwind in March. He's by no means the only performer to migrate from a support band to the main act: he follows a route trodden by people as diverse as Simon House, Mr Dibs and Harvey Bainbridge, to name but three.

now reissued by Gonzo (and typeset by me)
ROD GIFFORD eased his head out of the built-in earphones section in the head-rest of his blue leather listening chair. He pressed the remote-control STOP button mounted in the arm of the chair, and the demo-tape he’d hardly been paying much attention to came to an instant halt. He pressed another button and the chair, with a faint whirring sound, swivelled slowly round to face his desk. At the same time it tilted him gently forward to an upright sitting position. He patted down the layered side-pieces of his curved-over-the-ears hairstyle and flipped open his copy of Music Week to have another look at the photostat he’d tucked inside it.
Some of the letters in the tiny handwriting were broken and were not that easy to read. The message had been written in blue ball-point which never copied very well. The lipstick print, however, had come out very clearly; it was a rich black.
He read it through again, feeling the carefully combed lengths of hair that covered the bald spot in his crown: In spite of the poor quality of the print, the gist of the message was unmistakable. That Sammy Quentin had somehow screwed Kaufman for a promo-budget. Two things puzzled him though. The letters on either side of the lip-print. What did they stand for? At first he thought one of them had been the high-school stand-by, SWALK. Sealed with a loving kiss. But no, it wasn’t that. It was definitely SALT. And on the other side was LEMON. What was lemon, for Christ’s sake? It had been a long time since he’d sent or received any notes of this kind himself. How about: Love Evermore Or Never? It couldn’t' be that, surely. It sounded like a dreadful song title. Not the kind of stuff Sammy Quentin went in for at all. Unless it was some sort of private joke she shared with Cahn.
How long had they been sharing it? he wondered. Good question.
If I do decide to spring this on him, thought Gifford, I just hope Abner keeps a spare battery handy for his pacemaker, that’s all.
He was going to have to talk to him about this budget nonsense, though. Twenty-five grand. What’s he playing at? He needn’t mention the note. Not yet anyway. It would be something to hold in reserve.
Gifford reached for his white Easiphone and pressed the automatic dial for Jenny. ‘Hello, Jen? It’s Rod. Are the Americans still in with Abner?’
‘I told you, Rod, I’d give you a call when they came out.’ Her voice sounded strained. Having the American branch descend on the place always produced an atmosphere of tension.
‘Are they going to be in there all afternoon, or what? All right, Jenny. As soon as you see the door handle move, let me know. Knoworrimean?’
Gifford’s Liverpudlian impression usually made her laugh, but she snapped back at him: ‘All right, Rod. I said I’d let you know. O.K?’
Gifford hung up and smiled. He switched on his electronic Master-Blaster game and slid the button to the fast game position. He scored four flying saucers with his rocket before two of them came down together from both top corners, met in the middle and merged to destroy his base in a realistic light-emitting-diode blaze.
The accompanying buzz of triumph it made always filled him with dread. He switched it off and looked at the boxes of unsolicited tapes he’d promised to give a listen to.
What he dreaded even more than his rocket base being blasted by saucers was the visit he was going to get from the Americans himself at some point later in the afternoon. He could nip in to Kaufman and confront him while they were snooping on Cahn, who would be next on their list. But the real hang-up was the waiting. The not knowing when. He’d had to blow out his meeting with Gestalt and their manager to accommodate this afternoon of suspension.
There was nothing much else he could do now, except wait. He’d already rehearsed what he was going to say to Abner. Heard it on the grapevine was the phrase he would use. The next line of the song was: That not much longer would you bemine. But Kaufman would have to sort that one out for himself.
Gifford reached for his early West End edition of the NME, pushed his glasses up and started glancing through its columns of pseudo-hip trivia, in-jokes and pictures of identi-kit rock nonentities . . .
He turned back again to page fifty-seven of the live review section. He thought he’d seen someone he recognised. No, surely not. It couldn’t be. It was though. It was him.
Tom Mahler. The Music Machine.
As he read the review, Gifford’s expression changed from one of consternation and disbelief to a smile of satisfaction. He read the name underneath. Virginia Symes. Oh yes, her.
That meant syndication. And the start of a one-woman campaign by the look of it.
This was too good to be true.

The Court Circular tells interested readers about the comings and goings of members of The Royal Family. However, readers of this periodical seem interested in the comings and goings of Yes and of various alumni of this magnificent and long-standing band. Give the people what they want, I say

Considering that this has been a shorter week than usual, I was fully expecting to write something along the lines of "considering that this has been a shorter week than usual, I am afraid that blah blah blah", but nothing of the sort. There are actually more Yes related stories than usual. A truly bumper crop.

We start off with two interviews with my semi namesake Geoff Downes, to whom (as far as I am aware) I am not related. There is one in writing, and one radio interview.
There are two separate stories about the forthcoming Yestival; one an interview with the lovely Annie Haslam, and the other an interview with Steve Howe. There is an article about Jon Anderson's forthcoming Manchester date, and finally an interesting project by a Seattle band featuring Alan White, who are recording unreleased Beatles songs. Cool!
I am probably getting a bit OCD about all of this, but I find the Yes soap opera of sound to be absolutely enthralling, and I for one can't wait to see what happens next! 
i did not know as i walked into Freddies open mike show
it was also to be a baby shower!Boxes of gifts piled high on the stage
to show the love they have for host Jessie Valentine.I laughed @the Royal family
having to upstage her by having their baby early!Jessie was blessed with joy and happiness!
I strung beads and flowers round her neck,as she photographed performers and kept her show moving
Now,Freddies is a family friendly bar,with misters for the Texas heat,and a sweet open stage on Wednesday nights
Jessie has the loyalty of staff and customers alike-soon the stage was packed with baby welcome gifts
and her beau was presented with gloves,apron,nosepeg and spatula for future baby care(Austin style!
Smiles broke out like free food and cake.Staff wore beads and shared the night's stage.Poets pranced
and songs were shared,birthing September's child in harmony,hospitality,health and happiness-South Austin style!

In Victorian times every well-bred Gentleman had a 'Cabinet of Curiosities'; a collection of peculiar odds and sods, usually housed in a finely made cabinet with a glass door. These could include anything from Natural History specimens to historical artefacts. There has always been something of the Victorian amateur naturalist about me, and I have a houseful of arcane objects; some completely worthless, others decidedly not, but all precious to me for the memories they hold..

I used to be a collector of rock and roll memorabilia, but most of my collection went into my solicitor's pocket during my divorce from my first wife, and I never had the stomach to build the collection up again. However, people send me pictures of interesting things such as this peculiarly trendy Jethro Tull mug.

The `Keep Calm and Carry on` motif has become what I believe is known as a meme. It was originally, I believe, a WW2 era piece of  British propaganda which has been reissued and has taken on a cultural life of its own. 

Read on...

On the third weekend of August every year for the past fourteen years we have had the weirdest weekend you can imagine. The Weird Weekend is the largest yearly gathering of mystery animal investigators in the English-speaking world. Now in its fourteenth year, the convention attracts speakers and visitors from all over the world and showcases the findings of investigators into strange phenomena.
Cryptozoologists, parapsychologists, ufologists, and folklorists are descending on Woolfardisworthy Community Centre to share their findings and insights. Unlike other events, the Weird Weekend will also include workshops giving tips to budding paranormal investigators, and even a programme of special events for children. The Weird Weekend is the only fortean conference in the world that is truly a family event, although those veterans of previous events should be reassured that it is still as anarchically silly as ever!
The event is raising money for the Centre for Fortean Zoology, the world’s only full time, professional cryptozoological organisation. The profit from food and beverages goes to a selection of village charities, mostly working with children.
How do you fancy spending three days of high strangeness, good food and great beer, together with the cream of British Fortean researchers in the middle of the glorious Devon countryside? By the way, I am sorry to have to say this, but as this is a fundraising event, tickets are non-refundable, although you are free to resell them should you be unable to attend.
Lee Walker: Dead of Night
Andrew Sanderson: Russia Expedition report
Lars Thomas: The Natural History of Trolls
Judge Smith: Life after Death
Jon Downes/Richard Freeman: Intro to Cryptozoology
Nick Wadham: You will believe in fairies; you will, you will!
Tony Whitehead (RSPB): Starslime
Glen Vaudrey : Mystery animals of Staffordshire
Darren Naish: Adventures from the world of tetrapod zoology
Richard Freeman: Expedition repoort Sumatra 2013
Sarah Boit: Orbs from a photographer's perspective
James Newton (London Cryptozoology club): Bigfoot
Shaun Histead-Todd: Pre Columbian civilisations in america
Ronan Coghlan: Amphibians from Outer Space
Jon Downes: Keynote Speech
Speaker's Dinner at the Community Centre
Tickets are only £20 in advance
I think Peter McAdam is one of the funniest people around, and I cannot recommend his book The Nine Henrys highly enough. Check it out at Amazon. Each issue we shall be running a series of Henrybits that are not found in his book about the nine cloned cartoon characters who inhabit a surreal world nearly as insane as mine...
Jon has on more than one occasion asked me to write about any experiences I may have had during the days when I used to travel up to London to see bands.  Trouble is, not a lot really happened (apart from the theft of my Afghan about which I have already written).  You bought your ticket, dolled yourself up, caught the train, hopefully enjoyed yourself, then rushed back to the station in the hope that you didn’t miss the last train home.  Come to think of it, the last event did happen once and we had to hitch a lift.  I would never contemplate doing that now. Nor would I contemplate catching the last train home on my own these days either.  Mr Zimmerman may have waxed lyrical about the Times They Are A-Changin’; well they certainly did that, and not in a fun way.
The last train home for me took me to the end of the line – Uxbridge. And that was back when it was a relatively nice place to live and not a sprawling suburb of the capital like it is now. 
Maybe it was because I was a mere spring-chicken and was possessed of a lesser sense of fear – or naivety even - when I used to traverse the streets after midnight on the way back to my house, but I always found that late night perambulation from the railway station kind of fun.  Jingle-jangling with every footfall from the multitude of beads and bracelets bedecking my person, wafting the last, fading scent trails of patchouli or jasmine behind me, and usually with an extortionately priced (and most times suspiciously thin considering the fortune paid) programme tucked under my arm, I would walk along with the songs going around in my head and with my ears ringing from the sheer volume of the event. 
Then came the choice; the question I always found myself asking.  Should I take the long way round or cut through the alley?   I always chose the alley.  In  fact I don’t really know why I bothered to silently utter the option  in my head every time.  It was a foregone conclusion. And if my mum knew she would probably have berated me for a week.  And, to be fair, probably just I would if either of my daughters owned up to doing such a thing at such a time of night, especially now in these ‘you-weren’t-kidding-times-they-are-a-changin’’ times. 
However, it was not always a trip to London.  Many a time it was a trip just down the road (well okay not just a trip – a well-known route planner informs me that it would have been 1.3 miles). And one particular evening does stand out more than others.  Focus had been playing and my brother and I decided it would be a fun idea to yodel in true Thijs Van Leer- ‘Hocus Pocus’ fashion on the way home.   So we yodelled (and whistled) our way across campus and what fun was had by all.  Us two anyway.  No idea what the inmates thought; perhaps a Friday night outing of the local banshees, who knows?  Who cares?  We were young, we were free, we were alright!
I just wish I had written a diary back then and recorded a blow-by-blow account of the events I attended.  They would have made entertaining reading all these years later, even if only from the point of view of reminiscing on the responsibility-free days of youth. But then I guess quite a few of us can say that can’t we? 


NIGEY LENNON's  "Reinventing The Wheel Reinvented"  

DAVE McMANN WRITES: Plus I was involved in it for Nigey's FZ audition tape from 1971. 'A rancid degraged cassette from decades ago? 'Sure, I'll clean it up', so stayed up late, drank lots of beer and weaved my magic!!


Coming up - Street Date July, 19th. 2013  

NIGEY LENNON's  "Reinventing The Wheel Reinvented"  remastered with previously unreleased bonus tracks !

Featuring Candy Zappa, Jimmy Carl Black, Mike Keneally, John Tabacco, Victoria Berding, Teddy Kumpel, Jim Dexter, Laura Kass, Paul Laques & Jay Rozen.

All tracks remastered by John Tabacco, July 2013 at Suburban Hermit Studios, Stony Brook, NY

"Opus One" recorded 1971 in Los Angeles, CA/Performed and engineered by Nigey Lennon for Frank Zappa/"Sonically cleansed" and mastered, 2010 by Dave McMann

"Any Way the Wind Blows", "Messin' in the Kitchen", and "Jihad!" demos recorded 1997 in Los Angeles, CA/Produced by Nigey Lennon/Nigey Lennon: Keyboards, programming, samples, percussion/Candy Zappa: Vocals on "Any Way the Wind Blows" and "Messin' in the Kitchen"/Victoria Berding: Vocals on "Jihad!"/Monty Muns: Spoken outro on "Jihad!"

Special thanks to Andrew Greenaway, Eric Weaver, and Scott Pettis

Dedicated to Monty Muns (1934-1997) and Jimmy Carl Black (1938-2008)


01 Please Help Me Get To the Bottom Of It All (A Capella)
02 Messin' In The Kitchen
03 Calle Sin Nombre
04 Can Ya Do It
05 Mesmerized Cowboy
06 Stolen Cadillac
07 Just Another Third Rate Clown
08 Yer Wife Don't Like Me
09 Brain Tap Shuffle
10 It Must Be a Cigar
11 Jihad! (demo)
12 Please Help Me Get To the Bottom Of It All  (Full Blown)
13 The Akai Connection
14 Any Way the Wind Blows (demo)
15 The Pirates of Old Northport
16 Messin' In The Kitchen (demo)
17 Tit Elation
18 Jihad
19 It's Just a Black Guitar
20 Any Way the Wind Blows
21 Opus 1 (Little Garage I Used To Live In)

In shops everywhere soon.

It has actually been rather a nice week here in the badly converted potato shed where my new assistant editor Captain Frunobulax the Magnificent and I labour on all the different projects that I do. 
There is less to say in this column this week if only because this week has only de facto lasted for four days. Issue 35 only came out on Sunday, and most of this week has been a whirl of getting things ready.Jessica is very excited, and I have every expectation that she will return to Devon a fully-fledged hippy-chick.

We are also hoping to see both Chris Stone and Mick Farren during our trip so I am hoping that next week's magazine will be full of all sorts of exciting things which will have come forth from our adventures.

We also have some very exciting news from the lovely Liz Lenten of Auburn (for some reason, whenever I think of her I think of Liz Lemon of 30 Rock) and so, for the first time ever I have a pretty good idea of what is going to be in the contents of the next two issues, which is pretty good considering that I usually just make the whole thing up as I am going along.

I am very pleased with this issue; each time we get closer to my ideal of an anarchic journal of sounds and letters and ideas that I have been trying to put together for at least thirty years. Once again many thanks to Rob Ayling for giving me the opportunity to do this.

Things are actually going rather well at the moment, and the next wave of Gonzo grooviness is imminent. As you know, I already do various podcasts for Gonzo Web Radio and I am toying with the idea of expanding this to something special, and doing a series of podcasts featuring music unavailable elsewhere, especially for subscribers to this magazine.

Remember that it doesn't cost anything to subscribe, and that in doing so you are joining an elite, and rapidly expanding group of music fans who believe that we are not being given the music or the cultural coverage that we deserve. We are living in disturbing and strange times, but ultimately they are very interesting ones, and continuing to chronicle the Gonzoverse is an immensely rewarding thing to do. Thank you for reading.

Until next week,

Jon Downes
Copyright © 2013, Gonzo Multimedia, All rights reserved.

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