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Saturday, 23 January 2016

Ins & Outs The End Fanzine January 2016


INs
Exploding robins
Bald children
Balancing a peanut on your penis
Agent LVG
Starting a gang in your fifty's
Inexplicably sounding like Lee Marvin in mid sentence.
Talking in back slang to your dog. 
Yearning for nothing in particular.
Finally grasping the complexities of earl grey tea.Claiming to have copped for a female Kurdish freedom fighter.
Completely missing the point and getting smacked because of it.
Boycotting boycotts.
Fiddle players crotch area,
Mary MacGregor's nipples
Having a perpetual look of disgust.  
Becoming all teary eyed about Checkmate (club)
The sinister re- emergence of Bowie Kecks.
Jürgen klopps omnipresent smile.
Having a semi erotic dream about Pauli walnuts of soprano’s fame.
Singing 'Salisbury hill' in your sleep.
Shoulder charging a snail
Wearing yer sisters tights for work
Yodelling in the street end
Fantasising about runny yolks
Building a life size coffin with your kids lego set
Smoking a kipper in a big fat cone
Being a daft ‘apeth
Holding on to your mates testicles for dear life
Buying your mate Lidl Trainees for his birthday
Wooden curtains
Friendly lesbians
Frisky sausages
Mouldy old dough (in the star and garter)
Stashing yoghurt in your undies
Crotchless socks
Telling your dad he is gay
Having a big toe that looks like an index finger
Dating a Salmon
Jeremey Corbyn’s wrinkled elbows
“mind yer car mate?”
Having an affair with Peter Purvis
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OUTs
Pointing out my spelling erors
Joggers skin tags
Deluded fat people calling other people fat
Wool behaviour
Reunions.   
Knowing the right people
Getting beat up in a cupboard
Temporary insanity.
Coming home after six months with an Alberto Moreno haircut.
The past catching up with you.
Your nan catching up with you
Polishing your knee’s
Sundried chips
Saying "stranger things have happened".
Hilary Benn's treacherous eyes.
Lying about your age.
Regurgitating the same old shite.
Tracking down unfunny comedians.
Going missing from Facebook.
Indiscriminate Bombings of little country's
Noticing Fiddle player crotch area’s
Fiddling with fiddle players crotch area
Ian Ayres crotch rot (caught from his leather motorbike cecks)
Biting bricks to impress the ladies
Badgering Burnley fans
Bumming a rolie
Surprising yer local bobby with a friendly can of marrowfat peas
Being spiked in the 02
Proud of being a gobshite
Finding out Cameron also fucked an eel
Pimping out your poodle
Working for the clampdown
Ambling
Having an index finger that looks like a big toe
Thinking you are Shirley Valentine
Starting a phone sex line up in the lounge of the Throttles nest
Scurrying
Flirting with your neighbours wheelie bin


Tuesday, 8 December 2015

Western Promise- HERE COMES A REVOLUTION. album review. Brilliant... go buy it yer mingebag!

Western Promise- Here Comes A Revolution


At long last Western promise have …errr, fulfilled their promise and released the album that’s been scratching, banging scraping and screaming deep down in their soul…a soul soaked deep in punk rock, ska and working class Merseyside virtues.  These boys have been knocking around for a few decades and seem to escape recognition from snobby scouse muso’s who only seem to value the arty or the melodious 60’s based Liverpool bands. All of whom are perfectly great, but there is more to Liverpool bands than that..and there’s a time and place to recognise that true rock n roll bands graft and fight and rant and rage. Yes, there is still a place in this world for good old fashioned punk ethics.  Best of all they can knock out a fucking great tune too.

Here Comes a Revolution showcases Western Promises full repertoire ........ 16 songs to lift yer heart and rattle yer bones.

I was delighted to find a range of songs and styles to debunk any myth that Western promise are a one trick Pony riding on the coat tails of The Clash.


I’ve said before that these boys wear their hearts on their sleeves and are not scared to ram their influences down our throats with great glee. Their love of The Clash shines throughout, from the album artwork through to the final track where we are treated to a wonderful cover of Straight to Hell (featuring Mick Jones…yeah, MICK fuckin JONES! , Carl Hunter from the Farm, Chelcee Grimes and Gary Christian) the boys pay homage to their heroes. 

However it must be made clear that there is so much more to Western Promise than punk, reggae and Ska and thankfully this album showcases what they are all about.

For your dollar you get the raw Punky Ska of classics like Wake up Call and the brilliant,Strummeresque Bullet Proof as well as the reggae infused Blood running (“only cowards and scum carry knives and guns”) and album title track Here comes a revolution (including a superb dub version)..Chelcee Grimes superb backing vocals adding a new authentic element to the track but we are also treated to another side of Western Promise…Epic tracks like Setting Sun, Living The High Life, the beautiful lament that is Sad Old England, (“Sad old England, down on her knee’s. Will the last soul leaving turn the lights out please”) feature acoustic guitar, and piano behind moving lyrics about the sorry state of our nation and showcase the underrated John McGlone’s vocal and song writing talents (and the bands musical ranges). It’s astonishing to hear really.... His range goes from pure Strummer to a softer ((but equally powerful) range on the above tracks..dare I say it the vocal on the sweeping, legendary Charlie Wright reminds me of Holly Johnston! (and that’s not meant as an insult!) He even does a bit of Ranking Roger style toasting on Bullet Proof . As the album goes through it’s various styles, we also are treated to some Merseyside style hip hop on Click Click and then there is the Powerful spoken-word rant against society that is Are you not Entertained…another rallying cry for the nation to rise up against the Government and the Illuminati.


My favourite track is probably the simplest track in terms of musical complexity, it’s a tribute to Jerry Lee Lewis, and is like a 3 minute classic called Send for The Killer…..kind of rock n roll / crossed with ska! Once again Chelcee Grimes’ backing vocals add enormously to the track especially as the song closes to a crashing crescendo of a finale. I’m convinced this would be an instant hit in the Rancid inspired current Punk / Ska scene in America and hope music lovers in the UK finally take note.


This is a perfect album for End Fanzine readers of an age who were inspired by The Clash, The Specials and The Jam rather those younger folks who were inspired by the Stone Roses, Shack and The La’s…(but even those music lovers should give this album a listen. Honestly, its fucking ace).

I truly hope Western Promise finally get the recognition they deserve as a result of this album release… Here comes a Revolution is the perfect xmas gift for yourself or yer mates.. go and buy it yer mingebags..this is easily my favourite album of 2015.

Here comes a revolution is available from the following;

Pay the band directly, cut out the tax-avoiding fat cats & pay by Paypal:
Click on http://www.paypal.me/JohnMcGlone /
DOWNLOAD: Enter: £10.00 / Please don’t click “Paying for goods or a service” as Paypal charge us 45%! / Next / Login to your PayPal A/c / Paypal will add their fee of £0.54 / Send Money Now
Please allow 24hours for the download link to the 16 tracks to be emailed to you in glorious 320kbs MP3!
We will also email you the powerful artwork that adorns the CD release
CD POSTED TO UK: Enter £12.00

In Person:
Probe Records, Retail Unit 1, The Bluecoat, School Lane, Liverpool, Merseyside L1 3BX
0151 708 8815

Online:






Monday, 16 November 2015

Book review. On the Seventh Day . By Mark Wilson


 
On the Seventh Day- Mark Wilson

I’m running out of superlatives to describe the works of Mark Wilson. Often compared to his compatriot, Irvine Welsh, I find that’s a tad lazy as he has a completely different writing style. I find that Mr Wilsons work is more subtle and deeply considered than the full throttle assault Irvine welsh often adopts.

When approaching this book and reading the little teasers (again the Irvine welsh comparison was made) like "God hates you. Regardless of religion, race, sex, sexuality or nationality. He hates all of you. Basically, you are fucked."…it would be fair to say I was expecting a full on twisted barrage of anti-religious abuse. Whereas what Mark Wilson does with this book is to gently satirise religion by way of the retelling of biblical stories through the eyes of “Nick” who is one of the main characters in the book, while The other main characters wreak havoc in the present as Jesus is resurrected by way of inhabiting the body of a nondescript Scotsman, along with Moses as his right hand man inhabiting the body of a Manchester United footballer.



So the book has two streams throughout, That of Jay and Mo, trying to convince the entire world (every single one of us) that they must repent and adopt the one and only true commandment that God (Stuart) asked Moses to impart to the human race, which was, “don’t be a cunt” , before Moses got idea’s above his station and carved out those other nonsensical 10 commandments back in the day.

The world looks on in disbelief and shock as Jay and Mo perform miracle after miracle at various points around the world (spread like wild fire by social media).

Whilst the miracles convince many, the media, sceptics (and a deadly agent provocateur) cause their own havoc by their usual underhanded skulduggery and cynicism. 
Whilst all this is going on the story unveils it's new characters and twists. The afore mentioned Nick has his own issues with God / Stuart (an angrier more cynical God you could never meet).These characters, especially Nick, take us to different places and theories and this adds to the books mystery and intrigue in such a way that it helps prevent the book from being a simply witty farce as Wilson shows just how much he researched his biblical theories and then reconstructed them (or was it deconstructed them?) through his magical Wilson eyes before putting pen to paper.
The result is a thoroughly entertaining, controversial, thought provoking, funny, outrageous (at times) story of what could happen if God or the son of God was to reveal him/herself to the modern world. The phrase “you're talking through your arse” takes on a whole new meaning in this story and literally had me laughing out loud!

Miracles are either believed by half the people or considered trickery or blasphemy by the other half…and let’s face it I know which camp I would fall in if a Scotsman and a premier league footballer called a press conference telling us they are Moses and Jesus reincarnated and we must all repent of God will fuck us over…in 7 days.

On the seventh Day genuinely makes you think how we would react of the son of God was ressurected in these fucked up sceptical, religiously divided times whilst also being able to make you guffaw (or Tut in outrage, if you are that way inclined).

I loved On the seventh day and would defo recommend this to any of my friends and family and readers of the End Fanzine……talking of which!... at one point in the book Jesus / Jay even receives a tweet from The End fanzine (yes really!) asking him if he’s up for an interview!...you can imagine my delight and pride at having our little fanzine included in the work of one Mark Wilson…go buy this book now, you won’t be disappointed….and while you’re at it, have a look through Mark Wilsons other body of work and try them too. The man has such a great talent and should already be a literary star…...just like that cunt Irvine Welsh.
 

Friday, 23 October 2015

R.I.P The YANKEE BAR




Yankee Bar R.I.P
The iconic, legendary home of Liverpool mobs past (and until its closure) present is no more.
The End incorporated couldn't let this go without a few choice words could it now?
Here goes.
Known to all and sundry as The Yankee, “The American Bar” has finally pulled down the shutters,….the last ozzie white has been spilled, a piece of LIVERPOOL history slips quietly away. (Probably open next week as a Himalayan coffee shop….just what Liverpool needs another fuckin coffee shop).
Geographically situated (for all our international viewers ) on Lime Street a hop skip and a pair of Birmingham bags, Gaylon jumper, LOIS  cords (needle or jumbo), stan smith (strap-over), Peter Storm jacket …stones throw away from our mainline station.
As the previous thread hints at, The Yankee attracted an eclectic bunch. Keen chronicles myself, jones and Hooton sat, and just waited…… rarely were we disappointed.
Ladbrokes pen in hand, jones with his no 6 box neatly ripped in the glorious days of pub smoking,our ace reporting team simply listened.
 
The End fanzine could effectively write itself based on tales and deeds observed in its hallowed sticky interior. Many an  IN or an OUT, a tall tale of taking on 8 foot wools, crop headed cockneys or copy-cat mancs and wild, trainee pilfering japes across Europe was inspired by the stout hearted Yankee yeomen punters who guzzled all sorts of weird concoctions seemingly in the 80’s.. at least without Columbian pressed leaves to enhance proceedings. ... Of course all sorts of NARCS were flying around after all it was an inner city boozer; trips, sold by shady looking fuckers just checked out of Walton, bags of wallpaper paste masquerading as amphetamines,MAGIC MUSHROOMS that had long since lost such magic (if any was there in the first place) or maybe I’m confused….must be the mushee’s. The legendary back room of the Yankee sometimes smelled like the exercise yard in Midnight express  but ahhhh  this was the innocent pre nasty 90’s! The clientle was a mishmash of FLEMINGS (Late of Scotland Rd as the sign said outside the plush new premises on up market Walton Rd bragged) wearing Kopites Toffees in Wrangler jackets, Cow shed Casuals from the Wirral on the Q.T (who always insisted on "a clean glass please") all rubbing shoulders with The, blue snorkel (parka optional) Samba glitterati. In this morass numerous minesweepers who penetrated all the social classes listed before, alongside some challenging women who frankly scared the fook out of me.


The pole which virtually blocked the entrance running from the floor to the ceiling was a must use for would be hedonists especially on derby night, undeterred it seems by anti-vandal paint. On reaching the top would be exhibitionists simply clung on for dear fuckin life, goaded on by (well…in some cases us!) to "get the fucked ale in”! A true tale…Skinny Bootle blue avoids buying Kopites drink!
A bizarre mezzanine D.J. booth style veranda appeared (must have been around the mid 90’s) where gaudy shirted spinners took untold stick for not playing The Jam again, or was it Claughton combo, Half time mint biscuit* Anyway who cares. Stevie who managed the place for years actually sold The END behind the bar.. practically a perfect pairing in every way.
So that's our tale, what’s yours ? send us your stories ( to The End Fanzine Facebook page inbox or to fatskin2008@gmail.com and photos from the yankee bars heyawayday and the best will make it onto The End Fanzines web pages for many an old reformed, middle aged, ex train bunking, scallie to enjoy.

* not to be  confused with trash metal act Half Man Half Biscuit



 

 
Chris Lyttle many a good piss up in the yankee after the everton games


Paul Jones Remember being in there & a lad running in covered in blood - huge red lines dripping all down his back.
He disappeared into the bogs.
30 seconds later 2 policemen come running in with a hot-dog seller behind them with a ketchup bottle in his hand: "I'm sure I covered the little scrote..."

A song started - "kill the bill, kill the bill....."


Paul Thomas Stuck in the Yankee by bizzy horses waitin for the utd escort


David Williams Never forget mid 80's when the jukebox wasnt working properley for a few days, John called the repair fella. When he opened it up the Yankee cat jumps out looking skinny and a bit worse for wear. Also the stag party in there when they made the stag climb the pole with his pants off, when he had been in the toilet they had smeared the pole with firery jack, fellas legs and bollocks were red raw.


Cabello Barber-Studio London Road The Yankee, Nation, The 05, all proper scouse institutions heartlessly confined to the history books to make way for generic flats & coffee shops. Nothing makes our city unique anymore


Vicky Smith Arrrr... nooooo.... lol.. is that where we all ended up one drunken night many moons ago...? haha... remember dancin the twist with some old geezer... funny as.. had a boss night... x


Michael Davies Remember all the Liverpool memorabilia behind the bar and the great jukebox.


Jason Green Never been so sad about somewhere so terrifying! Match, American Bar, Bier Keller for Groundpig ...impossible to avoid the stare of numerous nutters and beer spilt on your new Trimm Trab ...boss memories!


Vivian Flusk Another great bites the dust, Liverpool gets so many stag and hen do's from out of town but all the history and great places are long gone or on the way out. What is the attraction?? Imagine Liverpool in the 60's 70's or 80's if we'd of had the internet. The tax on alcohol has killed our British night life ! X


Peter Gardner They did have s cracking j box Dillinger a knife a spoon a bottle an a cork that's the wry we spell New York Jim and lots a Dylan too great ale house in the


Tony Zeverona Loved the place another of Liverpool institutions gone


Paula Simon Elias in its pomp one of the best jukeboxes around


John Clynes Man utd away


Jason Lee Always met there b4 all the aways


Delia Brady-Jacobs Another one bites the dust! Not right


Dave Nimmo More history gone to the wall


Jennifer Louise Nooooo!!!

Analya Moïse I'm sad... frown emoticon


Nick Ellis Seen some madness in there.


Terry Byrne What a dump


Paddy Browne The dream is over


Ger Kane Gutted


Paul Frank Sharkey Ordinary to Chelsea...


James Burns Aint been there in a long while but see the Thatcher dead celebrations in YouTube made me laugh.

Paul Stewart Some boss days in there before aways in the eighties


Michael Potter seems La Americano bar as stirred up something in the deep souls of murkeysiders...book to follow


Paul Bromley Last orders. London away games. Sad.


Peter Gardner The shithouse was the worse never take a dump there it was like the toilets from hell


Andy Porter Spurs fans squirting amonia at us


Sean Flanagan Sad news good pub


Marilyn Smith Burgess 1969 listening to tamla Motown will miss it lots of history there got its name cause the yanks drunk there in the war rip


Ivanov Paulo Pendleton r.i.p part of liverpool history especially the futurist fat joe and the council left to rot sadly is going also and lets build more student accomodation most probably, we will be called a student city soon go to town all wools


Ian Golder My sister worked there for a while Denise Golder


Tony Dunn 80 s


Thomas Mc Grath Cup winners cup final all meet in there before we got rattler and boat to the Dam great times


Peter Dunne I was with the cheeks brothers
We'd been in the big house if I remember


Lisa Calver Kevin Kirby, it's missed x


Paula Newsham Lianne Newsham Louise Newsham Derbhail Hornby Keeley Seddon gutted....didn't know this had closed down xxx


Jenna Newsham Oh eh loved it here x


Paula Newsham I know I'm gutted xxx


Derbhail Hornby No way xxx


Amanda 'Justice' Tootle Aww that's a shame a great pub 2 b in and lots off fun times god I had my first daughters christening day in the Yankee bar in 1998 had a great day and night it's just a shame it has 2 go


Paddy Browne ye Amanda had many the great day / night there


Eddy Howell Earle Jackson best place to be 20 years ago on match day


Kenny Lawler Heard it was moving to Hanover st?


Peter Hooton Brilliant write up - I don't think I ever collected the money for The End from the Yankee - I'm sure he only sold a couple of issues as he said it was attracting the wrong type of clientele


Sam Shevlin NO!!!


Sam Armstrong frown emoticon




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Sad to hear about the closing. This is the reason I named my New York City bar " the Irish American Pub". The Pub is currently home of " the Bootroom NYC"  and the NY Kopites supporters groups so we still have a Liverpool connection . Cheers

 Brian McLaughlin