Beat Generation

Music shops have been inspiring Deadbeat since before it's birth.

Seeing free sheets in shops made us think we could do that. 44 years on and the music shop has become a venue.

Beat Generation has just arrived to inspire another generation. Sounds evolve and we absorb, even absolve as we get older and less tribal. I can dig the Dancing Queen again. It sits well in a mix with the Only Ones, monochrome set, Martha and the muffins. Echoes of the past indeed. Let's face it who wouldn't take a walk along action straza one more time. I was writing this song the other day and suddenly I'd gone and introduced a sinister and comedic Alex Harvey laugh, oh how he did laugh. 

The sound system in Beat Generation is so good you can already see the way ahead for the next 44 years of the record buying public. 

I'm only witness to part of the evolution, from the days of Groucho in Dundee, Goldrush in Perth, the Virgin superstores in Glasgow and Edinburgh etc etc we've evolved.

My first record was bought in the Record Exchange in clerk st. Later on Record Shak and Ripping Records further down the many named A701 to the south Bridge would sell Deadbeats among the 100,000's of tickets they'd sell each year for gigs. They must've sold several million in their time. What would they have given for a £3 booking fee.

Enough of the history, what of this new generation of beats. The chains have gone, now so many local record shops offer an array of old and new styles. I often sit on the bench in the meadows dedicated to the owner of Record Shak and think what a great job. Annually I pop in at Christmas time to Avalanche in the centre and buy a Deadbeat tee shirt and a few others from the selection. It reminds me of what you'd find in Cockburn Street in the 70's and 80's. It's an outstanding contribution to help Waverley market out of just being a brand name greasy spoon. Cockburn Street might've migrated itself into coffee bars and restaurants but there's still a few wee locals from back in the day jostling with the new clientele of 2026 Edinburgh.

I remember when I was working at my mum's place, the picnic basket, on Nicholson street she added Brie, date and apple, chicken and avocado, and sundry other conceptions to the 1985 menu at £1. I scoffed and said I'll sell more cheese and pickle at 25p. I was wrong. Issue29 had me advertising vegan pizzas but the damage was done. She was right, the tide had turned and she was selling out the brie every day.

Money was distorting our high street 40 years ago so it's great to see our communities evolve. Music communities as well as locals, with festivals filling the streets with visitors. I'm a regular Camino tourist in Spain another great dynamic community that changes every day week or month I go. It's all about community. 

I love looking back but looking forward is what the record shop is doing today.

Vinyl Villains appeared on the back of a 1985 Deadbeat. 

Opposite Sandy Bells in forest road is certainly an Irish bar now and that space has been many things to many people. What a history I don't have time to do it justice, only mention it once sold records too and before that gave out free oranges.

I had hoped to write a review of the gig in Glasgow at this stage but sadly I was ill. I'm told I missed a great show with Davy and Malcolm. Gutted I was. Great venue too the coffee bar on the southside putting on the post Creeping Bent production, with Stephen Pastel. 

So back to the music and another venue I watched another brother in. The Grassmarket really has become a buskers paradise. The Americans flock there for it's authentic music and listen to the music of their era. They lap it up and as they have passports are most assuringly more biddible. They tip £20 when the hat goes around the kind of figure I'd only dream of back in the day when we played la sorbonne or the jailhouse. If we put the hat around it would get nicked. Back in the day the Grassmarket folk singer gigs were usually interrupted by one or two angry pissed punters now it's very respectable.

To be fair the early 80's was very funny too when it wasn't tragic. The things people stole to flog for drugs was hysterical.

At the end of the 80's I was in a night club in Hulme,  Manchester bull rings. I was dancing and a stiletto heel had caught my leather jacket. I laughed and said "you've caught my coat in your shoe", to which my dance partner laughed and said "she's nicking it ya daft jock." Later on we were having a spliff in the bull rings watching the show. A guy came out a flat running with a telly under his arm. Next thing someone's chasing him. Ah, 1989 I don't really remember much but I can still picture that and the poll tax rally at Maine Road, but sadly not who played.

Drugs weren't cheap and it was quite mad. It was similar in the earlier part of the 80's too when the jacket wasn't too cheap either.

Great memories are something that always made me laugh with the Deadbeat Tapes when we were putting them together. So many bands reached the end of their teens and wrote nostalgic songs.

It's a crime and like my leather jacket a really funny crime. "Looking back on the days...." A great opening line and one Ritchie probably enjoys singing now with all the humour of, "fucks sake.... Did I really write that song on my 20th birthday".

I love the lyrics I love the music it brings me to the moment. In my case the moment was brilliant. I remember little as at my unfiltered best or worst. I have moments people tell me about, I have songs I wrote or sang, tapes and pictures of glorious gigs I clearly enjoyed. I don't have the imagery of my balls falling out of the gold lamet nappy in front of an unsuspecting fan. Not the smell of the flesh burning or me hitting the high notes quicker.

I don't remember, I just smile at my embarrassing moment and apologise for the poor people whose cigarettes I put out by accident.

My admiration is for the record shops and the venues. We showcased the TSB AKA Tayside Bar. In later years the irony that our golf sweep is called the TSB based on the Thistle Street Bar pleases me endlessly. Every week I feel I'm hitting this shot for Brian and the real TSB. The bar that launched a 1000 careers, albeit most were in drinking not music. The venue, the toasties, I never tire of praising the best bar I ever drunk in. I've drunk in 1000's of bars and I'm so lucky to have drunk there, so often at so many times of the day. Oh yes, I'm a drunk, I've a pulse and I am proud. People like Brian helped me through me life and now nostalgia has given way to LUKEATME. My apologies and back to the story about the record shops and music.

The magic of Haiti 0-1 Scotland

As I emerged from Swanys at 4:42am into the daylight this June morning I was wearing a smile and like my photo, a bleary-eyed glazed look.

Turning day into night and back into day is exactly what following Scotland is all about. 

I love "No Scotland no party", "super John Mcginn", "we're on our way from misery to happiness today(reverse as appropriate)", "yes sir, I can boogie", the great randomness of all our songs, while lurking in the subconscious lingers 'it's the hope that kills you', a sad lament that everyone knows the words for and they play the tune their way.

This morning I didn't have hope smashed I just had smug satisfaction that in the battle of the minnows we had not drawn with Iran, lost to England, Peru or Costa Rica, Don Masson didn't miss a penalty or Gary McAllister. Nobody to blame but ourselves and wur'selves deserved to bask in the warm morning glow. As I looked at the houses on blackford hill I rubbed my eyes. Can I believe what I'm seeing. They are so shiny, almost Trumpton Gold. Is it more fake gold, those iron pyrites. Naw, it's braw, a braw morning. Across the country all the accents in unison, from the trepidation of must win, to lucky bastards who cares. Maybe it's a sign. I got home and draw a line on the map. Yes Morocco in the distance. Tonight was about our first opening game win in 52 years. Our first win for a long time.

There were no sob stories, just quiet acknowledgement that we had survived, luck had shined on our collective wee nervous selves and won a wee battle. Haiti would be wondering where it all went wrong. The outstretched leg deflecting a scuffed shot will be replayed while the rum stained eyes look forward to a game with Brazil.

It's the world cup and the 2am kick off now seems like a great adventure. Ironically in losing to Haiti I wouldn't have been shocked to see a 1-0 win over Morocco.

I remember when they destroyed us 3-0. They used the ball better, quicker and the pace they played at was like my favourite Monochrome set tracks. Stop start, slow, fast, discombobulated journeys. The Morocco team that day seemed to spring into life and score in 5-10 seconds, then go back to sleep. Leighton seemed very unlucky or crap depending on your point of view. For me Morocco were one of those creatures that wait all day then pounces. Oh yeah, the patient fisherman, those Deerstalkers.

Nowadays Scotland have emerged into that counterattacking team. Concede possession, keep shape, try and disrupt, terrorise the opponents preferred passing lines. Then pounce panther like. Mctominay moves onto great spaces in this environment. He seemed suffocated in his role against Haiti as the out-Scotlanded Scotland.

We will see what happens on Friday and with another win we'll go into the Brazil match just needing a draw to top the group.

Aye, it's the hope that kills you.

Post script. With only 2 groups with pure diddly teams 3 points wont be enough last night Ecuador lost to Ivory Coast. That's another group where three teams will reach 3 points. 

A, ITHTHKY

After kicking the baw along the Camino in 2013....there were 39 people who signed in different languages, all those nationalities have been to the world cup since....and finally Scotland..... Never thought I'd live so long 

We all care about something

Attenborough at a 100 reminds us about species while we wrestle with language.

I'm in the Basque city of Durango. It's clear to me it's a huge place. The Basque language is alive. English is second while all versions of Spanish rank third.

Loyalty is a disruptive force. The sins of Franco have ruined Spain's chance of making amends. The Basque people contain slightly more fervent numbers than the Scots do. While the republicans in Scotland probably sway between 25-35% of the population the identity of the Basque feels stronger. Is this why the language of the tribe is so important?

I've no idea. I'm asking myself why does Attenborough matter keeping the language of chimps alive when it's all about an alpha male.

On the streets of permanent division I keep wondering why our survivalist natures leave us to go it, relatively, alone. We are so easily picked off without the tribe. Check the history of the average victim of the puma, lion, tiger....etc.

The history is not good. They are extinct. There's an argument to say their species survives due to faster breeding than bleeding.

Can you choose between a species or a language. Can you choose between one set of a species. Can you bin all the aspiring alpha males at birth to watch how society changes. Can we watch how the matriarch runs things. So many questions from the animal kingdom and yet so few real parallels.

Every day's a school day for me and I love trying to learn a new language so let's go and smile.....

Eskerrik Asko 

As a post script I like to think about which Zoo I'm living in. Am I in the tourist zoo, a curious species that wanders into your town and looks at you or the visitor to a zoo. Am I wandering into the wild to see how the locals live. Or am I just a humble bum who limps from town to town gauping, grasping and looking grateful.

Breakfast was superb for only €3.40

So the decline of a language or a culture is ok if breakfast is cheap. Hmmm, now that's a thought. The evolution or should I just say evolution is everything. It may not be everything good, it just is evolution.

Did lord mandelson use his influence in 2008 to start the sale of world pay in 2010

Nobody will know except those involved. Knowing little about Mandy I'd not be able to comment. I'd leave that to Prescott who once associated him with a Scorpion. Poor Scorpio I thought. Prescott famously lent his name during COVID in the great Jag versus Jab debate. If you had had your second inoculation it was regarded as a Prescott in reference to his 2 Jags.

I have written extensive nonsense on this blog about how the UK government made a mess of the banking crisis and how brown and darling compounded the errors of Fred Goodwin. Capitals for those with the modestly streetwise Brains and lower case for those puppets. 

These people I've possibly been harsh about. They were pathetic clowns in a game that they lost. I still believe they had a culpaple role in that game. They sought an office they couldn't be more ill equipped to handle. They could've asked 300,000 people for advice who would've advised them better. Sadly they didn't.

If pressure was put on them nothing could be simpler than to use a lifeline and call a friend. Ah, but how do we choose our friends.

When you look back to the situation where world pay was removed from the RBS everyone I knew in the city thought it a scandal.

The infamous £20bn art heist from Barnes, the 1920's Philadelphian art owner reminds me that what we own can be easily removed. It can take time but there are ways.

WorldPay was one of the winners as the dot com era separated the wheat from the chaff. For those who don't know it's facilitates payments, think card machine versus cash. Most people understand that the book, the bank statement, the folding cash are casualties of the internet age. Even dealing slips in stockbrokers were automated. As one of the members of a firm who did the first internet trade in the 1990's, we understood the technical shift. The dot on bubble in 2000 was quite clearly labelled. What we never realised was how quickly the written word would replace conversation. Texts via any network have replaced talking on the phone or in person. From my days studying non verbal communication this loss is huge for our species.

What I know is that Gordon Brown dumped the gold and then was prime minister when World Pay was dumped. Thatcher was advised privatisation was good, sale of council houses was good and selling all the family silver. I don't blame brown for selling the gold as the silver had gone. I blame him for not using it to build new council houses. To build new assets. He instead continues to use PFI a transfer of public money to the private sector. We all understand how the game Monopoly works. Once you own everything the rents will go up until the winner prevails.

What is curious for me is how the mercurial Mandy mercilously in his machevellian way, coercive to the core, got at them so easily. I think that's why Brown is raging and wants him stripped of his peerage. Let's face it, who likes having egg on their face. After 15 years it may be a bit smelly.

How much Mandy influenced the circumstances to ensure a sale will never be known. Why would anyone in the EC say I was coerced or encouraged. I was the one who voted for making sure it was a condition of sale.

It was a fire sale Brown and Darling probably became complicit. They were under terrible pressure following their stupidity, of which, I wrote about way back in the day. 

One day you hope the truth prevails but I know only one thing. They know they truth and live happily with it.

In numbers Worldpay was sold for £2bn when it was worth £4bn. Crunching the numbers back then you could tell they were in a dominant position in a dynamic growing market. Automation was going through the gears and financial automation was accelerating exponentially.

10 years later it was sold for $43bn and after some asset stripping and another 7 years, it was sold for $23bn.

The bail out shares are often quoted as belonging to the "government", it misrepresentation. These were our shares, we the tax payers shares. They were ours, we paid increased taxes because of it. Just like COVID we've had an austerity that we are supposed to grin and bear. Some of us didn't return from those wars. We never even knew we were in a war. It was an economic war. We were electing politicians but it was the unelected ones who were running the show.

They quietly did their job in the background. Their job was to be a sleeper. A sleeper for a financial power not for a foreign state.

They succeeded and we lost. Sometimes you just have to get over it.

When the current UK government finally agreed to release the cash to the miners to pay their pensioners I laughed.

They're mostly dead, so now the only beneficiaries will be paying 40%-50% tax on this money that was part of the, was it £20bn?, held back pending some nonsense.

Hats off. I'll give you the £20bn on the basis I get £10bn back. How funny is this as a way to increase the projected tax take this year and into the future.

The coming weeks and months will doubtless reveal a little about WorldPay but what about the poor children, the girls, the victims. Many shouted and nobody listened. Shouted all you like but it's just me too nonsense the establishment launched back. Just like the post office scandal. Do I need to mention more manipulative malevolent bastards.

This isn't a conspiracy theory this is just what happened. Remember when the police, not just policeman, check his WhatsApp, brutally kidnapped and killed the girl in London. There was a vigil for her. The police had three jobs of public disturbance to deal with that week and somehow it was the women who were dealt with most severely. We need to remember Sarah Everard I never forget. Like every man woman and child should. Whenever I'm on the Camino I light a lot of candles. We need to keep these voices heard and attrocities remembered. 

The pedalo invasion

Back in the 80s many people talked about "getting on your bike" but that's not what my pals did. 

Many of them did pedal but they didn't pedal their bikes.

We was part of the Scottish invasion, we were part of the migrant crisis as my pals from Berlin told me.

We answered the call. Trainspotting covered what some Hibs supporters were up to but the others ventured off shore. They left Granton in their pedalo fleets. Pedalling perilously out of the firth of forth with nothing more than a few tinnies, pilchards, special and lager. It's a long distance to Germany we laughed.

Today it seems ridiculous but 40 years ago it seemed like we were reliving history. With every splash we felt the freedom from a frightening regime. Thatcher was sending her boats to the south Atlantic and we were launching our invasion in search of lunch.

People were starving as unemployment spared. We didn't have the benefit of the wondrous welfare state. The queen hadn't opened her 1000th food bank. We had homes but our rental sector was shrinking. They were being sold and put children couldn't hope to get one. The age went up and up, the points went higher and with that, your 25 year old child's desire would soon expire.

I knew the pedalo promised something our politicians couldn't offer. Norman Tebbits was almost right. We'd all got on our bikes and cycled around the country. We'd searched every corner. There was no work. The council houses were being sold. We thought they will need to build new ones. We kept holding fast, we kept believing but there was no new building.

We were fit, with families to feed. We fled in our fifties, out five hundreds, our five hundred thousands. We took to the water. Deacon Blue sang about our march in a song called Dignity.

We pedalled until we reach the shore. We got work. We sent cash home. Some of us earned so much we could fly home. We flew home to partners who had never been abroad. How do you describe a workplace. It was work. We had work. 

Free Markets & Movement in 2026

Many economists talk about free movement they usually mean capital and very rarely mean labour.

Most people recognise that freedom of movement allows labour to move to where the jobs are and results in cities or concentrations of population approximate to where there is work.

The free market theories become unstuck regularly and fans of Adam Smith are often confused or bemused about the moral fibre of ruthless opportunistic individuals.

Sadly those people need to wake up and smell the roses. Give opportunity to all, make it a competition and you'll produce winners and losers.

In the middle is the prize money executives.

When the prize money is all or nothing, you have a society in decay.

In ancient cities it breeds collapse.

Whether you choose Almunecar as your point of reference or Babylon.....will I go on.....do you remember what happened at hanging rock 1000 years before, or atapuerca millions of years before that?

Oh please, can we move the conversation on. It's about the smiles, hugs and love in the room.

It's about the music that inspires us not the shite that drags us down.

It's about the art of conversation and the pictures in the pub.

It's the lives we been lucky to know and the people we have touched.

Thank you for those moments, I'll cherish them every day.

Thanks for having the strength to believe in a better way.

Most of the song is CF...G, all my songs are....

Look after each other, it's going to get very messy.

The diminution of the age related tax free allowance

Also known as the how the old got poor.

It was well recognised during "austerity" as they liked to call it that those who lived long enough to get a pension should not get it tax free.

Signing up to the triple lock whilst removing any age related tax free allowance has ensured pensions are now taxable.

They always have been but we're largely lower than the tax free allowance. Now they are higher.

What a cruel twist of political fate that pensioners decided which government got elected and both shafted them.

That's one thing the politicians agreed on. 

Get their vote.....😘

The demise of leg up capitalism, ok it's last stage capitalism

Pinpointing when ladder up replaced leg up capitalism is difficult. Choosing an exact date is impossible.

The conclusion is it was a gentle generational shift commencing during the 80's. Restoring the natural order of keeping the riff raff at arms length wasn't easy. It's been a challenge. The battle raged across many industries as legal ducks were put in a row. Fixing the patriotic flags to the mast and managing them into the ground, from wars via Olympics to national grieving. The marketing was magnificent. Devastating the manufacturing industry and replacing it with service jobs from finance, fashion to marketing and tourism. Selling everything from the fabric of the nation, the bricks and mortar of our national wealth to information superhighway dreams. We had the unlimited oil revenues. We were a major player.

We talked about children having their own PC at school and how advanced those children would be. By the year 2000 every kid would have an iPad and jotters would, well, get their jotters. Teachers, well they'd never had it so good.

Silicon Glen was about to be nationalised to provide universal free laptops to the nations politicians, hospitals, schools, even households.

We were sold a dummy and we took it. Misdirected by the politicians and the trusted TV screens. Instead of free fibre we all pay service fees (aka taxes) for WiFi, for phones and still pay an additional income taxes to fix the pot holes left by these service providers. The market allows you to shop around the marketing people make sure we don't try too hard. They're highly skilled having honed those skills selling double glazing or timeshare in the 80' & 90's. 

They are the epitome of the ladder up generation of grifters.

Even now I find it stupendous that political commentators don't understand how living standards can crumble while economic growth could double.

We don't all rise with the tsunami of economic growth. Some of us drown quicker.

In the case of communication (phones / WiFi) it is easy to see the GDP growth of the service sectors and how it impacts on the poorest.

Wages at the lower end are not keeping pace with property costs. With a rising number of our nation's people sliding further into poverty what the poorest spend their money on needs our focus.

If it is rent then how far away from Hoover ville are we.

I wrote over 10 years ago about property increasingly becoming an investment class that parents were using to both get the leg up for the children while inadvertently pulling the ladder up too. It really accelerated during the 90's and the pedal went to the metal this millennium. All of it fuelled by the Thatcher/Blair bung to a chosen few. Some put the figure at 10% and I'd say yeah possibly more but 5 million well chosen people easily earn you a landslide. 1 million was probably enough for Starmer.

We talk (occasionally build) affordable housing but how can it ever be without radical intervention. That ship has sailed. Is the only saviour housing associations. Surely there has to be a solution for those working in housing associations too. This is where my brain goes off on one. How can my treatment be delivered by qualified radiographers on £24000, when 4 times their wages buys nothing but a camper van. Why can a qualified member of the NHS not receive a government backed 0.00% loan to buy a house. Just like the banks who tied their staff with low cost mortgages. Come on government, it's not inflationary to improve your staff's lot. Save the NHS, give them houses.q

The macro is they can't afford to buy unless they get a huge subsidy, rise or live a longer way from work and then we are back into greenhouse gases.

When the Olympics legacy was being discussed I remember listening to the voices of Josephine and Tommy C. They both talked about the Olympic legacy in terms of a modern mini city.

When you walk around Stratford and that area of East London you can see aspects of what succeeded and where the ambition was thwarted or just lacking. From the new parliament, a working hub for local and national government to the provision of hospitals, housing and education.

The whole area could have become a technological Mecca. Even now it represents an opportunity to reset our climate chaos focus.

The truth is there before our eyes. We will keep pretending that growth is the answer when in fact we might want to consider surviving. We talk about prospering but we should be discussing ways of surviving. I feel like Cassandra all the time. I'm not a prophet of doom, or someone with a vision. I'm merely a guy who has played chess before. I can see a check mate coming. I didn't start the game but I'm part of the endgame.

If AI is the answer riddle me this. If you ask AI how much damage to the environment AI will do as it acquired the ingredients and power it needs, how will it answer.

Hmmm.

Do we really need more power or learn to need less. I have given family members and friends money my whole life. Did they ever stop needing more. I always naively believed that once out of a hole you wouldn't volunteer to go back into it. I am naive.

Digression is my thought process. As I lose focus I calm down. Ah, that was cathartic.

My next post will be on an investment trust I want to create for those who will likely find it difficult to get on the property ladder. Sliding ladder on way down investment trust-SLOWDIT.

What is the right price?

Can you have a differentiating monopoly where depending on your wealth and your admiration of the shrine, you're priced differently.

I often wonder about this.

Can the locals, compete with the international tourism, or do they just carry on.

The Basque people are both friendly and extremely hard working. They appreciate being appreciated with smiles, kindness and cash. It's not always just cash but if the others are missing they move on happily. They can spot people they want to serve. They went to "Good, good, nah school." They blank tourists they don't like the look of. Guess what it works very well. They moved on while the toyrists moan "I was waiting ages and I shouted three times it's me next."

Those who are served feel equally vindicated. Smiling being patient and saying "Eskerrik Asko" (or perhaps read the room and say 'Gracias') will serve you well. Reading the napkins will always serve you well. The Basque people don't all speak Basque. Read the tea leaves, or the napkins. If they say Eskerrik Asko, it's not a gimmick, just Ask Eric ask him. Or as my impersonation of Bobby Bluebell goes Esk Erik Asko. It brings tears to my eyes and often to the victim.

How derivatives changed economies

It's hardly rocket science but whenever I explain to pals about the economy I use anecdotes.

My croupier pal the other day wanted to understand passive trackers and it was easy. I said you know the gamblers who walk around the tables and see who's winning and backs their box. 

He said "yeah but their streaks always end".

I said "past performance is no guide......." And we laughed.

Simple concepts like the law of diminishing returns.

I explained to a window cleaning pal about what would happen if you cleaned a window 10 times. Pointless, exactly. At worst "it would be clean enough to eat your dinner off it",after the 2nd or 3rd time. If it's still dirty you've the wrong tools he laughed.

The croupier asked me why is there no investment in actual things? Why is all the money getting loaded up on funds tracking funds.

I replied are you asking me why SSE or National Grid can announce massive rights issues and they get swallowed so easily by the markets. Why government can borrow so much when they clearly have no assets. Have governments got themselves into more debt than households did in the Thatcher, Major, Blair 1980/90's. I laughed and said you'll need more than AI and a few economists.

Debt has always had its uses. If it's occasionally used for desperation purposes it's fine. If it's always used for whims it's a disaster.

Thatcher used it to batter the unions. It worked a treat, she battered them senseless.

Blair used it to keep funding the rich.

During the banking crisis Brown borrowed more to give to the bankers to pump prime the economy.

He wasn't smart enough to realise their self interest had brought the economy to its knees. It would not change it's nature.

Santa Claus was indeed SATAN with claws.

He could've increased our debt by pump priming the economy via the removal of the lower rate of tax and strategically make tax start at £35,000, a level which at the time is when people started saving instead of spending. He didn't.

Have governments improved.

Has lettuce improved.

I don't think so.

The level of capital invested and the amount of end assets is at an unrealistic gearing ratio, just ask the croupier.

Al's Festival fringe receives cut

I love talking about the old days as a kid growing up. Whether it was playing monopoly or later on going to bands. Standing outside the Astoria when the Only Ones were playing for 50p and I'm the wrong age or enjoying the stage at La Sorbonne in the Cowgate before heading along to the Hoochie Coochie. I didn't earn much when I was at school but by 17 I could go out for a session in Coppers and then back home via the Avon. Nowadays its the Monopoly money that makes me chuckle. I remember to make the game fairer we'd give the loser an extra £100 for the next game. It grew arms and legs until a game where we gave the player who drew the boot £2000 to start the game off and we had to see who would last the longest before going bankrupt. We didn't know we teaching ourselves about finite resources, asset acquisition and the money supply. We were rolling a dice. Nowadays everyone who has a kid is rolling a dice. Whenever they go to the ballot box, they're rolling the dice. What they dont know is how loaded it is. The growth in poverty has been inversely matched by the concentration of wealth.

Its not just the food banks that have seen growth in the last 15 years. Property rentals and prices in the city during the fringe have spiralled. The higher they go the lower the turnouts. Student accomodation continues to appear the biggest housebuilder and asset managers are the jobs of the future. Venues however and the town are showing a calming of the waters. We still get loads of sell out tours, like Oasis and Kanpur1857 to name but two. For many of us though, its the free fringe. Enjoy a £7 pint in the white Hart or £6 in the Auld Hundred, then listen to the vibe, its not all North American nor is it locals nowadays. Hear about what the visitors and up to even if you cant make the shows and support them. Its a shame but if you've only got £1000 for your trip to the Fringe it cant compete with those on loftier budgets. If you're on the bus coming through for the day its hard to keep it under £100 just ask anyone who live's in the town its still an expensive business. The biggest plus in Edinburgh is outdoor drinking doesn't need to involve a £7 pint. You can sit, jakey style, in the meadows with a £1 bottle, or if you like, on a hot day, a £2 bottle. You can sit in the meadows, on the steps of George square, in Princes Street gardens or along the Water of Leith listening to Oasis. I'm often asked why its so expensive and where does the money go. I think I wrote during COVID that Edinburgh University buildings are an asset that the Finance dept sweat. They need the money to support what they do. Whether its £30-£40million I dont konw but its a sizeable amount. The Council will also get some favourable sums from allowing permits for this that and the other. No idea how much that's worth, I really wouldn't want to start thinking about it. All of it adds up to most acts dont make money and we all just throw a whole lot into the kitty and get badly poured pints in plastic glasses. Tasteless overpriced food from average kiosks. Poor students trying to make enough money to be able to go for some shows after their shift. Its a circular economy and all the moeny earned goes back into providing pals with free tickets and good times. Free pints and the odd pizza. Its not the Fringe or the performers that are pricing it out, its just the expected weight of cash generation. This is available to fewer people, unlike 50p to see the Only Ones. At the time 50p would get you a pint. Now you nearly get two pints for £12. I dont need to equate it to paper rounds or house prices. Inflation is not a problem when we all do it together. Wages, pensions, pints and printing Deadbeats. The problem as I found with charging 10p is that shops took 2p or 3p so if I didn't double it to 20p I couldnt afford to do it. I think the same of the Fringe sadly. They need to double the prices of drink, shows and accomodation, but I'm not sure I can afford to pay. Luckily I can still wander around and enjoy the buzz, oh and the buzz cut, only £15. Glad my hair's sorted, it really was irritatingly hot and sweaty. PS Inflation explained Many people think inflation is a one of increase but its the rate at which everything continues to go up. What's worth is it's the basket of goods you randomly choose to represent inflation. We all have our own inflation. Home owners regard house price inflation as good if its their last large house purchase. THereafter if you're downsizing its a good thing if house double in price over 5 or 6 years. Similarly, but opposite, those who rent have no great interest in the house price other than hoping for a crash so they can afford one. If prices continue to go up they will have to seek to live in another location, or even country. If housing costs exceed half your income then you must leave. Chronic shortages make the NHS weaker as the lower paid staff cant afford to live and work in the NHS, particularly in cities like Edinburgh. While house prices and rents are the major expenditure for the majority of people their impact on the inflation figures can often not be as significant owing to vast parts of the country where there is still very low house price inflation, even deflation. Run down areas have lower rents and trailer parks can drag the UK average away from the reality. In presenting statistics there is explanation and caveats. If you cant understand the distribution its easy to arrive at a conclusion of your choosing. I like the pension statistic for UK average of claimants. In short how long will everyone life to claim their UK pension. All those who die before reaching pension age will not apply for a pension, leaving more for the rest. All those women who got their telegram from the Queen got 40 years of pension. At that stage the men got 35 years. The laugh being, the split was about 80/20 when I went down this rabbit hole during covid. The problem with understanding statistics is you have to immerse yourself in the data to draw conclusions. Most people dont want that, they want a glib, binary, yes or no answer. It would for example be easy to have a battle of the sexes debate over pensions where people load up their guns with various aspects of the statistics they like. What policy makers need to do is undersyand it but, of course, they like to win debates, which means ignore the data. Ah, I've done my circular argument, time for the allotment.

Make it Happen - Cheek by vowel - fandom gone mad

This audience blew me away. It was as if the cast had waved a spell and we had split into two camps. One lot loving the panto season while the other lot were confused about the treatment.

Music, comedy, tragedy, incongruity it was like a game of Wordle. Sometimes I loved it sometimes I felt there was a language divide, a generational split, a seismic shifting of societal plates, off message, on message, loud, bright, dark, quiet, burke, hare, old and new Edinburgh.

A Paisley buddy interloper is presented to us, joining the refined masonic establishment. 

I knew some of the people the cast were playing. I identified with some and not with others, but this is theatre, it's panto, it's designed to do everything and from a musical perspective all we were missing was Status Quo "Rocking all over the world", Life Support's "the penny drops as the mushroom rises" and Orange juice's "Rip it up."

I can picture the young Fred going along to the Bungalow bar in his late teens watching the punks overspill from Glasgow in 77, then Orange juice, Aztec Camera and so many more. As an introverted wee baddie oops, laddie, I'm sure he had it all growing up and yet it wasn't enough.

It's not well documented just how many bad decisions were made by boards up and down the country. Judging by one old gentleman who left at the interval, they were happy to keep it that way. The faceless wonders who move the pawns around the board have always held fascination for a wee boy like me with a love of torches. 

"Shine the light" wasn't one of the songs but there were a lot of songs making this a borderline panto musical.

ROAD TO DAMASCUS

In my mind there was a wee guy with one lie, that he used ruthlessly to climb the tree. When he looked up and saw there were no branches ahead he had a Damascean moment. He went from finding folk with no perceived value and binning them to finding folk who  perceived value. It's like the emperor's got no clothes, do you know any emperors like me. Finding me a bunch of naked people. Yep no problem boss. 

So a guy who cared only about the bottom line then changed to only caring about what people thought the bottom line meant.

It's true that Gold varies in price. The momentum behind gold makes it look unstoppable but what use is it. It's perceived value and Fred works out it's even easier to show higher profits if you alter perception.

This was used by Carrillion, Maxwell and many others. Higher dividends often signal a business growing so one in freefall can hide among the column inches as it's profits tumble if it keeps putting it's dividend up. They have letters for it and not all are vowels. EBITDAM was popular during the Enron years.

So in short, Fred only had one truth on the way up so he needed a new one.

Had he been worshipping profit or listening to false prophets? We'll never know but he stopped believing in profit and started to believe in the perceived prophecies. This new religion proved the cult it was and by now, he was, of course, the count of Gogarburn.

Not happy with worshipping he decided the worshippers should follow the one true disciple. He was Adam Smith's biggest fan. This was indeed a stalkers sad and tawdry tale.

What makes it sad is not that his God is dead some 200+ years, many religions like to have grave to visit. What makes it sad is that it had become fashionable finance to choose chunks of the wealth of nations in front of people as financial fact, as political economy, an ideolgy.

Hubris is weaved into the narrative at the beginning and the end. Gently placed to remind us where he came from, not where he'll return.

The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.

Fred had neither and he found that out, like Maxwell before him, as Michelle Mone is now. Prophet's of perception. Fred might've demanded the Queen open Gogarburn but I'm sure she would've taken more pride in closing it as i'm sure Charlie's private office will find a way to make it part of his wee portfolio.

Washed up at 50 and clearly confused by what just happened. From my side of the table I could tell him.

The crowd loved seeing Brian Cox play himself. Something about an old grumpy bastard telling it as it is appeals. Some of the lines were so well set up they tripped over them laughing. It was hysterical watching it, befuddling too. You can't keep complex thoughts going when there's such a big joker wearing a clown hat and appearing in a puff of smoke.

When it was sinister it really left me confused. I'm 62 now and had real problems keeping up. I asked afterwards whether I'm just too old and not any good at theatre. Happily I got as mixed a reaction as the audience had displayed.

I'll hopefully find out in the coming weeks if the standing applause was for Brian Cox coming over from his home in LA to give the Dundee Rep a formal and fun time farewell. It certainly will give them a boost. The cast all looked very happy at the encores. They should be, it was a  long hard and busy night. I found it mesmerising as the scenery seamlessly slid off the stage with a silvery sleight of hand. I really did like the loolipop gag. I do want to try and understand why we had Franz Ferdinand one minute and Fred singing Mr Blue Sky in Fingers the next. Are we back into taking artistic licence. I really do savour my theatre experiences, with digestion lasting easily a month. It can't just provoke a frivolous thought in the moment for me. I do want more.

I'll also be happy to find out why the gentleman left at the interval. Edinburgh is indeed a village and these stories get out. If they don't, we just make up another, it's Edinburgh.

"Never let the truth get in the way of a good story."

The first commandment from the prophecy of perceived profitability.

Deadbeat exhibition

I love nosing through the back issues. They're so full of memories of a childhood of dreaming and doing. At the drop of the hat I'd jump a bus to Glasgow, Perth or Dundee to pick up some cash from one of the shops selling Deadbeats, go to the pub watch a gig, get pissed with the band, sleep on a bus home or someone's floor.

What's not to like. 

They were great times. I remember interviewing slaughterhouse 5 in a pub near Queen Street station. By then they were called the Floor and their manager wasn't happy with me as I wouldn't interview wet wet wet. It was personal I just figured I really liked the company of the band, I'm just one person and Wet Wet Wet seemed to be getting plenty of publicity and we at Deadbeat were too insignificant for them, surely. Ha ha, oh how I laugh. It was around this time that the wheels off my life were spinning towards yet another car crash. I was happy in my confusion one day and completely suicidal another. As sure as night follows days I'd rise or fall. Deadbeat was just so much fun and most of the people we met were brilliant. 

Our first real interview was with Roddy Frame on the bedroom floor in the hotel in Dundee. Aztec Camera had just blown away the crowd at the Dance Factory gig.

Sex n drugs and Sausage Rolls was our first headline. Not sure we hit those heights again. It didn't matter we were there party, provide a platform for new bands to acquire an audience.

Go out and party while the country culturally was under siege.

4 years later, the end of Deadbeat was in sight. I tried to put out a 4th birthday free issue but it hit the cutting room floor.

It's still there in the archives and on the blog somewhere.

This year I want to update the bibliography page so bands or their fans can look back and see those early days.

We were so lucky to have people contributing from all over. Some issues we'd have a lot of time to put it together and others it seemed like work or hangovers got in the way. Many reviews or interviews just never got typed up. It was as chaotic as it should be. It was our childhood. I'm becoming that child again, and now I've got the time I realise I couldn't work without a deadline and I was pretty shit when I had one. 

More to work on then. Interviews with where are they now for our YouTube channel. That's 2025.

We weren't capable of being snotty, we were 

Working on the exhibition - probably find some pictures of the Camino...oops!

Just lately, I realised I've got to get it together. Anyone remember the Slider, a great wee club from 1983. The same year Keith and I traipsed up to Inverness icerink to watch Mr Echo and his bunny men before interviewing Will Sergeant on the freezing ice about themes from the grind and all things Arctic Ocean Rain. Very topical it was and 40 years on we wished we'd put more in about the icebergs.

The clock's always been ticking but you feel the impending explosion.

The Deadbeat is 40 project has a new name. 45 is the new 40.

So what I want to do is showcase some of the best stuff and then take it from there.

It seems to me these are genius wee artefacts from time and after the spell in the museum humana evolution the past 40-45 years are fairly insignificant. 

They are however the only bit of time I've got to draw on. More specifically 1982-86 and the history of the music industry.

When we interviewed Big Country and Roy was with his hero Stuart Adamson we had no idea 40 years on that he'd be dead and have missed the last 20 years. That his sound would continue to carry on says everything about his pals. It resonates, the past really does resonate.

When we saw then interviewed the Smiths, we had no idea in those 4 years that Morrissey's chat would be to do a Cilla number on the b side of Girlfriend in a coma. Little things like that really resonate with me in capturing how big is now.

So its time to plan an exhibition.

Camino Norte Castro Urdiales to San vicente de barquera - posted on Deadbeat should be fatal-bananas blog...it's an age thing

Yes, a few steps and a few buses. It's how we roll. Two nights in Noja and some of the most amazing beaches ever.

Our Camino included the fun associated with power cuts as the Iberian peninsula lost it's electricity for a few hours. I'm sure there are theories but sometimes you just leave them, parked at the door, wander to Isla and walk around the headland again, this time, the tide is out.

Wow, I thought when I saw why nobody was riding the surf on this beach yesterday afternoon, it's a bed of nails. 

when we arrived it looked a pure sandy beach as far as the eye could see.

It really is breathtaking indeed. The coastal erosion is stunning. The distance between high tide and low tide is about 200 to 300 metres.

The battle between the land and the sea. 

The humans side with the land and try to hold back the sea. 

Nature is a wee bit bigger than that and I think the Greek gods can teach us a few things. You might not believe in blood sacrifices to these gods but the power of nature is as self evident now as back then. If we can think Socrates and all those other duffers had a story to tell them you have to listen to their gods. In economics we talk about everything gliding into equilibrium in the long run. We ignore it at our peril and I loved thinking as we strolled. 

Nature will find equilibrium, it's in its nature. It's evolution and as all those Darwin fans will know species evolve and disappear. We may be missing a trick by counting them as they become extinct. That's a bean counter talking too. We do measure a bit too much but rarely before we cut. We just keep measuring like it's the job, it's the purpose, but it's not. It's why billionaires continue when it's pointless acquiring any more beans. You just need a bigger bean counting machine. Like Carnegie they get it nearer death and try to build that legacy. 

Create a myth about themselves to make them feel better about dying as their own wee battle with nature comes as quick as the surfers splash. 

The truth is they could've cured poverty, homelessness, produced free power, even sorted AIDS back in the day not wait until it fitted the corporate schedule that concludes with death. Aw, wha's like us, gie few.....

Spiking on the rocks in a sandy cove. I'm lucky as I sort of got it as I turned 30.  Stu and I sat in a farm house in France and said retire by 40. Caitlin had just been born so the pressure was on.

When the seagulls follow the trawlers....it takes me back....   ..  There's so much of life can pass you by but then again not everyone wants the same things and plenty still want other people's things. I'm more a sharer, I like to give my stuff away. I like a museum especially a free one. It teaches what value really is.

That's the game.

Value, that's a great word. What is value. Diamonds on the souls of your feet? A house to live in or a money pit to pay for. A company with a FTSE valuation or the company of good people.

The museum in Burgos dedicated to Human Evolution is such a beautiful if head spinning place.

I've waxed lyrical about my ancestors from Atapuerca for years. I feel such a warmth towards them. 28000 years ago Neanderthals finally gave way to Homo sapiens who couldn't help it, they just had to keep expanding.

It was a peaceful extinction by all accounts. A bit of interbreeding according to our DNA, or maybe I've made that up. I love how it's a wall of people that just keep coming. The surge into exploiting resources isn't new, we've been doing it for years. 

Were like the four tops, we just can't ourselves.

I took loads of pictures but by the end my brain was positively frying. We sneaked off to the peaceful CAB balcony on the other side of San Lorenzo.

We spent 2 hours and it's absolutely wonderful. I'll go back again and pay next time. Being retired Jackie and I got in for free. 

She certainly hadn't age as well as austro.....podicus.....

It's just bewildering for my chemo brain to consume.

It's all about the economics of evolution, or should I say the natural evolution of the monetary system. Finite resources mean we can't all win unless we work together. Not easy when slowly our whole world has moved it's attention to winners. 

I've moaned about Olympic programmes targeting the medal winners only. Football that refuses to acknowledge the necessity for feeder leagues to prosper for the people. I'm not a huge rugby fan but that's another sport where natural selection is everything and participating is neglected. It used to be a naive concept of mine that team games introduced concepts of being aware of strengths and weaknesses. Knowing you need a little help from your friends and one person is not an island. Specialists exist so they can trade with other specialists. We all have a role to play. Well not if you change the rules and play a new game.

Thankfully there are still fun runs of togetherness, ramblers, community minded people but it's getting tougher.  As more "Glazer'esque" solutions grip the global sporting world we are told what to like and the push back gets harder. How can you atop.likimg your team just because they change the model. Buying glory not building it. The Man united tale is a salutary lesson of how bad it can get. A global brand of the kings new clothes. 

Each generation often rebels against the last so how can we prevent this version of cultural aka coastal erosion.