LETTERS
lETTERSflH
Here it is. The one you’ve all been waiting for—. although some of you think you’ve been waiting a bit too long. David M. Bennie’s last letter to The List. Read it and weep. The best letter next issue w1llw1n a bottle of Jose Cuervo tequila. Write to The List, The Old Athenaeum Theatre, 179 Buchanan Street, Glasgow G12JZ, or 14 High Street, Edinburgh EH1 1TE.
Glasgow City Council and Regular Music are seeing out 1990 in style with a grand Hogmanay party in George Square irom 10.30pm—1.30pm on Mon 31 Dec. The non-stop party will have four stages featuring live music from Scotland and around the world to keep the crowds dancing through the night.
The List has a limited number of tickets lorthis unique event to give away on a first come, first served basis. Just fill in theiorm and take it into the Scottish Youth Theatre Box Office at179 Buchanan Street, Glasgow (open 10am-5pm every day except Sundays and 25 Dec). Tickets strictly limited to two per person.
Hurry along as the tickets are likely to go quickly.
All mouth and trousers
What devotion to The List. What a risk. What a horrible aftertaste. OK Andrea, you made it perfectly clear that getting an interview out ofThe Farm was about as easy as getting Bennie to renounce his decree of infallibility, but did you have to go to those lengths?
I refer, ofcourse to the caption which accompanied last issue‘s Clubs article. I‘m of too delicate a disposition to repeat it here. Well all right, ifyou insist: ‘Andrea Baxter
: goes down on The Farm‘.
Peter Shaw Woodlands Road Glasgow.
Bennie buttons up
Well, I guess the end is close now. There may be a Requiem Mass now (ora Thanksgiving Service— Ed. ) , when any mourners can pay their respects or dance on my grave. I shall not return in the New Year unless I’m offered a three-figure sum — £9.99. Non-negotiable. Why should my reappearance be dependent on ‘strong public demand"? By this criterion, The List would be full of blank pages. I may start my own small underground mag/scurrilous pamphlet ifanyone‘s interested.
An epitaph? ‘Not good enough to write for The List”? Nah, my ego may be as inflamed as my liver, but that‘s too depressing a note to go out on. ‘David M. Bennie 20 April—21 December 1990: he remained staunch in his trenchant views, even when they were unfashionable (ie he was a right-wing psychopath)‘.
Bay Belling and I are going to the Cratchetts’ this year for Christmas . . . All the best for 1991.
David M. Bennie Haddington Place Edinburgh.
Out of the closet
Your ‘Party Politics’ seven-page extravaganza (Poor dears! You’ll want a lie-down after all that effort!) was one of the more useful articles the magazine has run for some time, but I would like to draw Mr ‘Party Anecdotes’ Parsons‘ attention to a far better anecdote than any he wrote.
There was this guy in my class who had been brought up by his grandmother after his parents split up. Everyone knew that he was faring badly under her Victorian regime and we tried to get him to talk about it, but he just retreated further and further into himself.
I lost touch with him after school. Then a chance encounter with another old schoolfriend, Shelley, brought the whole sorry story to light. She had been asked to a party thrown by him, the excuse being that the granny had gone to Loch Rannoch for the weekend.
It turned into a wild do and then. probably looking for somewhere to throw up, one of his pals opened the door to the living room cupboard. and his grandmother fell out. a thick leather belt pulled tight around her neck. In his state ofintoxication. the guy started dancing around the room with her. quite unaware of her lifeless condition. Some of the girls grabbed their coats and rushed for the door. just as a loud knock shook it. It was the police.
I‘ve often wondered what became of him. Is there any way you can find out for me what correctional institution he is currently attending? I haven‘t been able to track down Shelley again.
Ronald Clayton Hyndland Road Glasgow.
Traditional Values
Blah blah Soup Dragons blah blah Flowered Up blah blah Paris Angels blah blah Happy Mondays and now blah blah the bloody Farm!
When Scotland boasts such a wealth ofsongwriting talent, why do you insist upon jumping on the indie-dance bandwagon when you could be informing your readers of local acts with genuine melodic and lyrical ability? I note your particular avoidance of Runrig, who have been drawing huge audiences across the country this winter.
Typically, Alastair Mabbott chose to slag off the incomparable Grateful Dead, wittily (and no doubt ‘pithily‘ as well) suggesting that Jerry Garcia should have a limit offive minutes placed on his solos. (I doubt that The Farm could manage a solo lasting five seconds!) The Dead will still be around long after these fast-buck hooded-top groups are gone, and their continuing success testifies that music which is human, organic and intelligent can still survive at a time
when the same sampled and recycled
beat rules the airwaves and attention spans are so short that even three-minute videos are not shown in their entirety.
Yours, looking forward to a day when groups are given coverage in your magazine on the basis of talent and ability,
Stuart McKillop
Crookston Road
Glasgow
NEXT ISSUE OUT ON THURS IO JAN
FEATURING at: VICARS WITH ATTITUDE; THE RETURN or EVANGELISM
‘3}: NEW FILMS FROM KEN LOACH, ALAN PARKER AND BERNARDO BERTOLUCCI :Ef-
84 The List 21 December 1990 — 10 January 1991
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