The blog of author Dennis Cooper

Category: Uncategorized (Page 5 of 1102)

_Black_Acrylic presents … You Know It Is, It Really Is: A Frank Sidebottom Day *

* (restored)

 

Welcome to a day devoted to someone whose work was somehow indefinable yet would often touch the giddy heights of greatness. Please give it up for the one, the only, Frank Sidebottom.

 

 

Christopher Mark Sievey (25 August 1955 – 21 June 2010) was an English musician and comedian known for fronting the band The Freshies in the late 1970s and early 1980s and for his comic persona Frank Sidebottom from 1984 onwards.

Sievey, under the guise of Sidebottom, made regular appearances on North West television throughout the late 1980s and early 1990s, even becoming a reporter for Granada Reports. More recently he had presented Frank Sidebottom’s Proper Telly Show in B/W for the Manchester-based television station Channel M. Throughout his career, Sidebottom made appearances on radio stations such as Manchester’s Piccadilly Radio and on BBC Radio 1 and BBC Radio 5, alongside Mark and Lard.

The character was instantly recognisable by his large spheroidal head, styled like an early Max Fleischer cartoon. This was initially made from papier-mâché, but later rebuilt out of fibreglass.

Frank, usually dressed in a 1950s-style sharp suit, was portrayed as an aspiring pop star from the small town of Timperley near Altrincham, Greater Manchester. His character was cheerfully optimistic, enthusiastic, and seemingly oblivious to his own failings. Although supposedly 35 years old (the age always attributed to Frank irrespective of the passage of time), he still lived at home with his mother, to whom he made frequent references. His mother was apparently unaware of her son’s popularity. Frank sometimes had a sidekick in the form of “Little Frank”, a hand puppet who was otherwise a perfect copy of Frank.

He reached cult status in the late 1980s/early 1990s thanks to extensively touring the country. Performances were often varied from straightforward stand-up comedy and featured novelty components such as tombola, and a lot of crowd interaction. Sometimes the show also included lectures. Contrasting against the alternative comedians of the time, Frank Sidebottom’s comedy was family-friendly, if a little bizarre for some.

Sievey was diagnosed with cancer in May 2010, and died at Wythenshawe Hospital on 21 June 2010 at the age of 54 after collapsing at his home in Hale, Greater Manchester. After it was reported that Sievey had died virtually penniless and was facing a pauper’s funeral provided by state grants, a grassroots movement on various social networking websites raised £6,500 in a matter of hours. The appeal closed on Monday 28 June with a final balance of £21,631.55 from 1,632 separate donations.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chris_Sievey

 

 

Frank is, of course, just that: an invention, an artistic, musical and comedic outlet for the man who dwelled underneath the hardened paper and paste. Chris Sievey was the unnamed narrator to Frank Sidebottom’s Tyler Durden, a man who slept very little to achieve more, who cared not for money but for what he could make, and whom he could make happy. Mostly himself. Though sharing one body, Frank and Chris were always seen as two completely different people, even by those who knew them best. Frank’s former manager, bandmate and roadie, Dave Arnold, played bass in Frank’s band for some time before his first meeting with Chris: “Frank made you suspend all belief,” he says. “Even after I saw the transformation, it was still Frank.”

Sievey was an immersive performer so committed to his act that it took on a life of its own – he made all his props and artwork by hand, and even worked on animated shows such as Pingu and Bob the Builder during his times away from Frank’s head to keep his creative juices flowing in any way he could. But he was at his happiest when reaching for that showbusiness star in his ill-fitting suit and disproportional mask, and his output was matched by his disregard for it. Arnold describes him as the “ultimate punk” in that he gave most things away for free or destroyed them (knowing he himself would have to remake everything). In his column in the anarchic comic Oink!, Sidebottom would publish his home phone number for people to ring him whenever they wanted; a free chat with a man who just loved to perform. Even at the height of his popularity during the late 80s, Frank would hire out his services to come to your house to entertain and in turn be entertained by whoever hired (£35 Manchester area only, an extra £2.11 if you wanted Little Frank as well). “He would stay for an hour or so, but if the conversation was good, i.e. space, then he would stay for longer,” discovered Sullivan after finding one of the old newsletters Sidebottom would hand-write and send to fans.

John Stansfield
http://www.theskinny.co.uk/comedy/features/307084-can_we_frank_searching_for_frank_sidebottom

 

 photo Frank_Sidebottom_Oink1_zpse7bb6337.jpg

 

What got you started?
Getting a packet of pound-shop felt-tip pens in a Christmas stocking. I used them to draw pictures of the American civil war.
What was your big breakthrough?
Winning £8 worth of art materials in a competition at school. I did a picture of Scotland, with some trees and a lake. The next thing I knew, I had an exhibition at Stockport art gallery.
Who or what have you sacrificed for your art?
Pink felt-tip pens. When I do self-portraits, I wear a pink tie. So I’m always running out of pink.
What one song would feature on the soundtrack to your life?
Guess Who’s Been on Match of the Day? I wrote it after I went on Match of the Day. I document my life in music.
Are you fashionable?
Very.
Have you done anything cultural lately?
I’m preparing to go on The Culture Show on BBC2 to talk about surrealism. It’s like the Blackpool Hall of Mirrors, but in paintings.
Do you suffer for your art?
Yes, when my mum tells me to tidy up and go to bed at half-past 10. But sometimes I climb down the drainpipe and carry on downstairs. I’m a rebel.
What’s your favourite film?
Dr Who and the Daleks. TheDaleks are the best design of the 20th century.
What’s the greatest threat to art today?
The Germans coming back and stealing it all, and then burning it.
What advice would you give a young artist just starting out?
Get some paper and pens. And forget the beret and the attic. You can do art just as well in a shed.
Is the internet a good thing for art?
Yes, because it tells people about it, but art doesn’t look as good on a screen: you’ve got to see it up close. None of my artworks have frames, so people can touch them.
What work of art would you most like to own?
Peter Blake’s cut-outs for the Beatles’ Sgt Pepper album cover. I’d line them up in my living room to look like I had loads of mates.
Complete this sentence: At heart I’m just a frustrated …
Peter Blake.
In the movie of your life, who plays you?
I don’t know. Film4 is making one and they haven’t cast it yet.
What’s the best advice anyone ever gave you?
My mum told me to get a proper job. I ignored her.

In short
Born: Timperley, Greater Manchester, 1972
Career: The comic creation of artist/ musician Chris Sievey, Frank released his debut EP, Frank’s Firm Favourites, in 1985. His drawings, models and animations are on show at the Chelsea College of Art and Design, London (020-7514 6000).
High point: “Supporting Bros at Wembley in front of 56,000 Bros-ettes. They didn’t know who I was, but I won them over.”
Low point: “Performing in front of 56,000 Bros-ettes who didn’t know who I was.”

Interview by Laura Barnett
http://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2007/jul/17/art1

 

 

There can have been few funnier sites than a middle aged man with a bulbous papier mache head arguing with a small puppet version of himself before treading on a microbe version of himself. Not only hilarious but also skewed and weirdly surreal.

Frank Sidebottom was one of the last of a breed- operating outside the rules and with a mind so brilliant that its restless genius was never appreciated. He put most modern comedians to shame. And now he is no more.

It’s hard to believe that Frank Sidebottom is dead. He seemed too surreal, too childlike, too cartoon strip to be bothered with tedious, boring stuff like dying. But it’s true: Frank is no more because his creator Chris Sievey died of complications caused by cancer on June 21st.

Of course we must not mix the two of them up. There is no truth in the scurrilous rumour that Chris Sievey was Frank Sidebottom. I interviewed the pair of them on the phone for The North Will Rise Again, my oral history of Manchester book, and after about an hour of brilliant stuff from Chris I asked him about Frank, figuring he must know something about the nasally comic genius.

The phone went click.

Dead.

A few minutes later the phone rang and, oddly, it was Frank, coincidentally ringing to sort out an interview. Where Chris was full of funny stories from the fringes of the music scene, Frank was plain weird and hilarious, like a psychotic child running amok in showbiz and using his humour to tear apart the stupidity of that world that had snubbed him for so long.

His tales of Timperley – the Manchester suburb where Ian Brown and John Squire had lived in their youth – were brilliantly skewed piss-takes of the mundanity of the rainy day. I was once in a TV studio and watched him do this utterly mental, but utterly brilliant, musical set in Timperley with a pick up band of lunatics in cheap suits. It was like the One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest bus trip.

The bizarre tension when you confused the pair of them was something that unwitting journalists had often mentioned, and I wasn’t the only one with this experience.

Sievey hated talking about Frank.

There seemed to be some sort of rivalry between the two of them. Altrincham obviously wasn’t big enough for the pair of them, or maybe they were the same person.

Now we will never know.

Sievey did the publicity for Rabid records in Manchester; he was also produced by Martin Hannet very early on and did some artwork for John Cooper Clarke. He was already a key figure on the fringes of the scene, with his wild imagination and brilliant pop mind just too far ahead of everyone else plodding along in his wake. In pop, though, there are no awards for being great or first, and Sievey was eternally frustrated.

His band, The Freshies, were perfect pop-punk whose sole semi hit ‘I’m In Love With The Girl On A Certain Manchester Megastore Checkout Desk’ got to number 54 in the charts in February 1981 and was lined up for a Top Of the Pops appearance. Sievey was denied his dream opportunity when there was a BBC technicians strike – the story of his life.

The single is nowhere near their best song. His cassettes, which I have a bunch of, were stuffed full of great songs. Classic melodic pop-punk, the kind of stuff that sells millions these days but, back then, was too pop for punk and too punk for pop.

He even invented a very early computer game, but no-one know what he was going on about. Yet again, he was too far ahead. His fervent pop mind was a good decade in advance of everyone else: he also invented board games, songs, musical ideas, schemes and scams before eventually he invented Frank Sidebottom, his curious alter ego whose papier-mâché head, shabby suit and nasal twang were a perfect vehicle for a series of bizarre and weird gags that were dark, strange and utterly hilarious.

We heard about his cancer a couple of months ago, which was shocking, and were cheered by his never-ending gigs that continued and his Tweets that dared to take the piss out of his illness – including joking about his papier-mâché head losing its hair!

Two weeks ago Frank Sidebottom popped up at Bruce Mitchell’s (Durutti Column drummer and real Manchester legend) 70th birthday party at the Manchester town hall. He looked as fresh faced as ever with those big round eyes, showing little sign of the cruel disease. To be honest, Frank had remained unchanged since he burst onto the showbiz scene a quarter of century ago.

He even did a gig in my local pub the Salutation about a week ago. Funny as fuck to the end.

Manchester mourns another legend.

John Robb
http://johnrobb77.wordpress.com/2010/06/21/frank-sidebottom-rip/

 

 

Sometimes life’s poetry and pathos can be embodied by the most unlikeliest of things. Such was the case with Chris Sievey’s masterful comic creation Frank Sidebottom. So complete was Sievey’s command of the character that, on hearing the news on Monday of his death at the age of 54, I couldn’t help but think of poor Little Frank; what will become of him?

Sievey’s perennially daft boy-man with the oversized papier-maché head was so likeable and witty that a part of you really wanted him to be real. That desire to suspend disbelief and inhabit Frank’s world of garden sheds and tea with his mum was testament to Sievey’s considerable comic talent.

I didn’t know Sievey, but I did meet him once without his Frank head. He was recording something for a radio show I was working on. He put a clip on his nose – the sort you’d use for diving, I think – and for some reason I found that most simple of props fascinating. It was obvious really, but I guess I’d never thought about how or why Frank’s voice was the way it was – it was just the voice he’d been ‘born’ with, the voice you’d expect a head such as his to emit.

Again, you can only put that down to Sievey’s skill as a character comedian; as unlikely as it may sound, what he did was a kind of method acting, more Marlon Brando than Mike Yarwood. Sievey was, of course, renowned for only being interviewed in character when talking about Frank.

So, there I was, listening to Frank while what I could see was a very ordinary, scruffy-looking bloke in jeans and a T-shirt who’d obviously popped for a pint on his way to the studio (it was early evening). I can’t remember what Frank was saying, but I do remember smiling a lot.

But Frank Sidebottom – by accident or design – was able to do more than just make you laugh. By the sheer ludicrousness of what Sievey did, he managed to bring the po-faced down a peg or two as well, to cut through the way that so much that is really pretty trivial in our culture is treated far too seriously. When he parodied the Sex Pistols’ Anarchy In The UK as Anarchy In Timperley it was hilarious, not just because the notion of anarchy in a sedate, middle-class village in Cheshire is inherently comic, but because it also made you realize that the original was rather silly as well.

And so it is with Three Shirts On My Line, his just released World Cup charity record which takes Frank Skinner, David Baddiel and Ian Broudie’s Three Lions and wrings some humour out of an event and a sport that has a habit of thinking rather too highly of itself. Yet at the same time it feels like a celebration of being a perpetually disappointed England fan. Fantastic.

“The song just rolled off my tongue, faster than a fast-speed washing machine,” Frank told the Manchester Evening News to launch the record. “I asked my mum where my England shirts were and she said that she had washed them. I looked outside and there were three shirts on the line. I thought, that is a brilliant idea for a song. Thirty-five years of dirt washed out by my mum.”

There’s a Facebook campaign been set up to try and get the song to number one during the World Cup as a tribute to Sievey. The same group is also raising funds for his funeral; Sievey died virtually penniless and his family were struggling to raise the cash to give him the kind of send off he deserves. A substantial amount has already been raised.

Not that anyone can say that Sievey leaves nothing behind. There’s all those witty songs, all those YouTube clips, all that laughter and silliness. We’ll miss you, Frank. And Little Frank too.

Chris Sharratt
http://www.creativetimes.co.uk/articles/frank-sidebottom-remembered

 

 

In the summer 0f 2010 I conducted what was, to my knowledge, the last ever interview that Frank ever gave. This appeared in our art zine Yuck ‘n Yum:

A singular presence on the stand-up comedy and cabaret circuit, Frank Sidebottom can rightly be called an institution. His act takes in popular Manchester standards (his rendition of Love Will Tear Us Apart really is quite something), some traditional showbiz patter and also puppetry with his cardboard alter ego Little Frank, all performed by a man with a giant spherical papier-mâché head. Once seen, Frank will surely not be forgotten by anyone in a hurry. Emerging around the late eighties/ early nineties Madchester music scene, he spent many years appearing on regional TV and treading the boards at northern comedy gigs. After making something of a comeback around the turn of the 21st century, Frank has recently performed in a few art spaces such as Tate Britain to great acclaim and a viewing of his routine by some as a form of outsider- performance art. In May this year Frank shocked his fans with the “bobbins news” that he has cancer, but this he has borne with characteristic valour. A self-portrait titled ‘me as me after chemotherapy’ was posted on eBay, raising £480 for Cancer Research, and in an exclusive Yuck ‘n Yum interview we learned all about the world according to Frank Sidebottom:

During your fantastic showbusiness career you have performed at the CHELSEA art space and even at Tate Britain. Do you consider yourself an artist?

************ anyone can be for as little as a pound !!! that’s how much my felt-tip pens cost from the pound shop !

This year you’ll be playing shows across the world. Is there any place that you’re looking forward to the most?

*** new york is ace,… but then so is the isle of man !

In June you’ll appear at Glasgow’s Puppet Cabaret festival. What can your audience expect?

**************** a medium rate of semi-professional puppetry,… as long as little frank (my ventrilloquist puppet) doesn’t ruin it !

Do you ever argue with Little Frank when you’re both on tour?

*** don’t be swept along,… he’s only cardboard !

Who is your favourite artist?

*** myself,… and paul macca and billy childish are quite good at painting too !

Are you planning any more TV appearances in the future?

***** i’m planning loads,… it’s just a case of if the telly companies are planning that too !

We all know how much you’re looking forward to the world cup, but who do you think will win?

**** in the ideal world,… it would be “timperley bigshorts f.c.” (my sunday football team… but it will probably be 10 men from somewhere else !

During your long glittering showbusiness career what do you think have been the high points?

**** meeting the queen was o.k.,.. and supporting bros at wembley in front of 54,000 was quite good too !

Who would be your dream special guest on Timperley TV?

**** ringo ,… (only joking !!! i mean paul!)

Yuck ‘n Yum will be holding a karaoke contest for artists in September. What is your ultimate karaoke tune?

“see you later crocodile” (in swahilli)

Many thanks and all the best… Ben Robinson, Yuck ‘n Yum

and a big thank you to you ,.. and all at yuck ‘n yum
best regards
frank sidebottom

http://www.yucknyum.com/the-zine/?read=summer2010&pp;=3

 

 

THE END… you know it is, it really is.

 

 

*

p.s. Hey. ** jay, Hey. Super interesting thoughts on Sotos, not to mention the boyfriend doppelgänger thing. Coincidence? Haha. Nice photo project too. Nice to visualise. Dev is the dude who gets the credit for getting me to get Sotos forefronted. May your day expand infinitely in all directions. ** _Black_Acrylic, That time may come, yes, and much sooner than we wish. So, surprise, your Sidebottom post is alive again! Thanks again and again. ‘Dangerous Animals’: I’ll check it out. Thanks for everything. ** Alice, Hi, Alice! I’ve been pretty good. Really interesting thoughts about Sotos vis-a-vis that theme. I think my favorite Bakshi is his really odd, trippy reboot of the ‘Mighty Mouse’ cartoon series back in the 80s. Wonderful about the happy novel progress. What classes will you be taking for your masters, or how is that going to work? Wish you even weller. ** Dominik, Hi!!! That Peter does indeed. The Hungarian version is so much better, wow. American are so basic and homespun, which is their charm at times. Hmmm … how? Love having caught the pesky mouse in his apartment and now hoping it enjoys the apartment building next door where it has been sneakily relocated, G.** Sypha, I remember your Sotos-adhering days. Back when Lady Gaga wasn’t even a twinkle in your eye yet. The good old days, haha. ** Steve, I’ve never read Dworkin’s fiction. Historically, at least, I haven’t been much of a fan of her, so I guess I haven’t been very interested in what she’d do in fiction. But I should correct that. Everyone, Here’s Steve: ‘In The Arts Fuse’s September “Short Fuses” column, I reviewed the latest albums by the Beths and Marissa Nadler here. (Scroll down to “popular music.”)’ I don’t know the ins and outs, obviously, but why not just call your friend? ** julian, Peter not letting you know where he’s coming from is part of his work’s strength, for sure. And that’s quite difficult to do with his subject matter. Another feather in his cap. Peter’s a lovely guy, very shy and kind and a real pip. Not sure what the deal is between him and William Bennett. He’s obviously on great terms with Philip Best. Wasting food … haha, the lengths people will go to not to have to deal with something they can’t admit they don’t get. ** Hugo, Merely gray and slightly wet and calm here. I don’t personally know what Peter thinks of ‘Pure’. Sorry about the grant. I’ve never gotten a grant I applied for other than for the films if that helps. Yes, your email is in my box waiting for me. Thanks, man. And WordPress was benevolent yesterday. ** Carsten, 15 to 22 isn’t bad at all. I was just gnawing happily on an unadorned baguette, speaking of simple. Enjoy the adjusting and all the sunlight since it’s your thing. ** Mari, Hi. I like the idea of the blog being the morning paper. Eek: the 100 degrees and the pebble. ‘Discrete Math’ is really good, another good title. Your classes are like a book of poetry. I hope. Oh my goodness, awesome, about the yarn intended for me. As long as it’s just an expensive little fender bender, you’re got my crossed fingers. Oh, it depends on the city, I guess, in terms of how long we stay. And finances, primarily. I think maybe we’ll spend 4 or 5 days in Chicago since Zac went to university there and misses it, and maybe 2 or 3 days in Toronto. Again, finances depending. We’re having to cover the cost of that trip. Surely once you’ve married your billionaire you can spare a brief moment to pop in and say hi. Haha. Have a swell week yourself. ** Jeff J, Hi. I’ve never read Dworkin’s fiction, so I should do that, I guess. Will do, on the eps. Enjoy Sparks and the whole trip, which I feel pretty confident you will. ** Dev, Yes, all credit for yesterday’s triumph is yours, albeit with some grunt-work on my end. Agreed, agreed re: Sotos. Me neither on Dworkin’s fiction. Geoffrey Hill … not that I can remember. Wow, okay, I’ll try to make a beeline to something of his. Thanks, pal. ** HaRpEr //, Technically I suppose you were kind of a criminal given where you reside. Yeah, I like that the blog is a kind of distant outpost, barely on any map. Good thinking, I think. Write a note and put it on your refrigerator with a little magnet? ** Bill, Well, even if you were inclined to run out and snag a Sotos book, you wouldn’t be able to. Have I ever been to the Kadist gallery in Paris? I don’t think so. I don’t even know where it is. But I will as of soon. Paris really goes dead in August, well, except for things geared to tourists. This is a city where for centuries or something all stores closed for three hours in the middle of the afternoon. Practice and hack! ** horatio, Hi. Understood. I’ve never stopped wondering if there is something wrong with me. Or maybe if my wrongness is actually wrong. I would think that subject would be of interest to Peter and may long have been even. But I don’t know. Peter is definitely good with Philip. People say not so much with William. No, I don’t think I know those tracks. I’ve made a note to rectify that. And see what ‘The Darkest Web’ is too. Peter used to be kind of panda bear-like but he’s slim and almost suave now or was the last time I saw him. Thank you for the very insightful comment! I wish the best for your day ahead too for sure. ** Nicholas., 10/10! I remember how the ocean could make one feel the best one ever had felt afterwards. I’ve never played chess. Sexy? I’ll try to see it being played and do a possible reassessment. ** Darby🐋, Nope, you made it. Wow, I’m hearing from you in and from Las Vegas. That’s exotic. Fun! Remember everything. Oh, yeah, the Paris hotel. I want to stay there the next time I go and do a detailed comparison. Jeff Jackson has a new trilogy of novels that will come out at some point in the future. Cool, I’ll look for the email/photo. Uh, it’s called Universal Horror Unleashed. Do everything around you as totally up as you can! ** Uday, Not bigly inclined towards Sotos is totally understandable. It’s what it is. You can’t cry in America. That sounds kind of profound. ** DonW, Hey, Don! Good, where are you in the project now? I liked ‘Do Not Expect Much …’ too. I hear the new one is kind of a big mess, but I’ll see it wherever it lands. So nice to talk with you. You take care too, bud. ** James BL Hollands, Hey there! I haven’t seen Peter in ages, but, when I do, I will, I promise. ** Okay. I thought it would be fun to segue out of Peter Sotos into Frank Sidebottom courtesy of an old, retired post made by our mighty mutual pal _Black_Acrylic. Figure it out. See you tomorrow.

Spotlight on … Peter Sotos Lazy (1999)

 

‘There it is.
In front of you.
Open it.
It’s only a book, after all. It can’t hurt you.
Go on. Open it.
Do as I say.
Do you like that?

‘What are we going to read about today?
Part I: “Sensation,” and especially “Myra,” and of course long ramblings on one of Sotos’ favorite subjects, King Ian and Queen Myra. “Damien Hirst defended the work and threatened to pull his pieces from the show if the Hindley portrait wasn’t allowed in. Hirst is seen by most as the cornerstone of the ‘Young British Artist’ movement that the show trumpeted: SENSATION: YOUNG BRITISH ARTISTS FROM THE SAATCHI COLLECTION. And while many saw that the show was either an attempt for the Royal Academy to change its stodgy reputation or a chance for advertising ‘guru’ Charles Saatchi to increase the value and reputation of his collection, most of the paying punters saw an exhibition heavily
steeped in sexual violence or, at least, sexual vagaries.” (88-90)
Careful, Peter, you’re starting to sound like a mainstream art critic.

‘Part II: a logical leap into child molestation. Child murder. The murder of crack whores. All the lovely things that happen on the south side of Chicago while no one else is looking.

‘You’ve heard of the projects, right?
Do you know what they are?
Would you like me to take you there?
Do you know what a crack whore is? I can show you.
We also get to look into the mind of Peter Sotos, somewhat. Not much.
Just a little.
You like that, don’t you?

‘Part III: Another favorite topic. Would you like to go downtown? There are bookstores there. I think you might find them interesting. Especially the back rooms, where the peepshow booths are. And the Mexican hustlers who give it away for $5 a pop. And the transvestites. And the AIDS-infected young men who want nothing more than to keep having sex.
It’s all about risk.
It’s all about self-hatred.
And we get to see it.
Can you see?
Can you see this?
This is what you’ve been waiting for.
Sotos is going over the edge, slowly, and revealing more of himself as he does. He’s almost got to the point where he admits he does it because he wants to.

‘“I spend most of my time enjoying things I don’t like.” (295)
“I find men less ugly than women except when they act like them. Homosexual sex is often the quickest way there. And this is soon lapping up vagina and working on some ridiculous clit numb mistake. This turned into christmas and thanksgiving and his birthday and all the lipstick I could afford for one little suburban bar tit grope and sister blow job. I do want to see AIDS ejaculate. I want to be sure.” (313)

‘Don’t you like story time?
I know you do.
Don’t justify. You don’t need to justify to me. Just admit.
You always knew there was a seedy side to life. That’s why you love watching detective shows on TV. But they can’t show you the heavy stuff on TV. They don’t show it to you in the movies. You never knew where to see it before. And you want to see it. You know you do. In order to appreciate what you have more fully. You have to see how the other half lives. Incest. Rape. Murder. Brutality. Serial killers. Casual, anonymous, high-risk sex. Pornography. Pedophilia. Home invasion. Abduction. Assault, battery, molestation, homosexuality, HIV, the media, hatred, hatred, hatred.

‘Don’t justify.
Admit.- — Robert Beveridge

 

Further

Peter Sotos @ Wikipedia
Peter Sotos @ goodreads
Joel Kopplin on ‘Tool’ by Peter Sotos
INTERVIEW WITH PETER SOTOS
“HOME”: MICHAEL SALERNO & PETER SOTOS
The Putrid Voyeurisms of Peter Sotos
Show No Mercy
Download a pdf of ‘Lazy’ here

 

Extras


Peter Sotos speaking at the Pompidou Centre (2012)


Excerpt from “Heartbreak” by Andrea Dworkin – read by Peter Sotos


Peter Sotos ‎– Buyer’s Market (AWB Recording, 1992)

 

The Putrid Voyeurisms of Peter Sotos
by Blake Butler

 

It’s not exactly easy to get your hands on the work of Peter Sotos. Most people probably wouldn’t even want to. His work traffics in a range of subjects that most average readers—even those who fancy themselves to have transgressive tastes—would find viscerally repellent: a meeting-ground of violence and pornography so limitless it becomes difficult to tell what we’re actually reading. The narrative voice takes on the personas of serial murderers, rapists, child molesters, hate mongers, and others who inhabit space far outside the range of what even the most edgy thinkers would consider tractable terrain, mostly rendered in a first person that strands the reader in a mindset that he probably doesn’t want to be in. That Sotos also frequently takes for his subject real-life criminals and victims—exploring, for instance, the violent murders of Lesley Ann Downey in his nonfiction work, Selfish, Little—there exists a line between the most grotesque extensions of fantasy and reality that challenges the presumptions of free speech and exploration of horror in such a way that makes it difficult, if not impossible, to name for sure the sort of ground on which Sotos forces us to walk.

Some more direct context about Sotos: He was a member of the seminal noise band, Whitehouse. He is 62 years old and lives in Chicago, where he has been arrested for possession of child porn, after publishing on the cover of his zine, Pure, a picture from a photocopy of an underage boy involved in sex. His books are printed mostly in severely limited runs, making obtaining them rather pricey. Sotos makes no bones about his infatuation with objects that push him beyond the limits of experience. He is open about his interest in snuff film and bestiality porn, and talks about them freely in a way that glorifies their ability to depict “how you look when ugly.” He is not heartless, although he does get pleasure pleasure from viewing these things, and he isn’t afraid to make himself complicit in the acts that he describes. All of this makes reading him, or even just thinking about reading him, one of those experiences that allow a window into a place much of our culture seems interested in playing footsie with—think of Dexter, or films like Seven and Silence of the Lambs but that when considered more directly take obscenity to a level of actually feeling—as a reader, you feel somehow ashamed, complicit just for holding the book. …

I feel sure that a majority of you are now asking, “Why would anybody want to hear about this stuff? How could anyone but child pornographers be interested in or even open to reading the work of someone who is OK with child porn?” I’m not the sort who rubbernecks at the scenes of accidents, but I can say that reading Peter Sotos stills my body. There are very many other people in the world. I have a mother and a father and friends and loved ones, and they exist in the same world as these things. There is something about the feeling of opening a window into a space that you would never touch with your own hands that can make you feel like you are being pressed down on by something very heavy and very black. I believe that thinking about these ideas makes one not less human, but more: careful and considered in a way that ignites awareness of something that is, if not in us all, certainly around us.

 

Interview
by Brandon Stosuy

FANZINE: Perhaps an odd place to begin, but how do you support yourself?

Peter Sotos: I work. Not that I think it’s such a good idea, but I always have. I don’t have a career. I do think it’s important that the books have no great commercial requirements and that my work isn’t split between lesser and greater degrees of seriousness — especially in regards as to who releases the material.

FANZINE: Any writing rituals?

PS: People sometimes ask if I write when I’m drunk. I do, sometimes, but it tends to get thrown out pretty quickly when I read it back sober.

FANZINE: Do you ever catch yourself writing for your audience?

Peter Sotos: I’ve heard how wrong I am for as long as I’ve been alive, it seems. So I have to weigh a possible audience’s possible arguments against mine all the time. But I don’t pander.

FANZINE: Where do you see yourself fitting in terms of literary tradition?

PS: I know where others say they see me fitting in. But, honestly, I don’t think in those terms at all. I don’t see anyone else doing what I do. Which sounds terrible, I know. But I don’t feel much kinship with contemporary writers, especially those who create fiction. My interest is in completely the other direction. There are writers whose work I love, of course, and it’s nice when some people make certain smallish comparisons. Sade, Dworkin… But nothing in terms of an ongoing tradition.

FANZINE: You mention Andrea Dworkin often. People might find the two of you an odd pairing, but on some level I guess you seem to share a notion of the humanity of victims.

PS: I disagree. I think Andrea Dworkin cared very deeply about her words being more than that – just words. I’m certain that I do, as well. But we don’t see the frustrating impossibilities of that action in the same context or towards the same result.

FANZINE: Have you read (Samuel Delaney’s) Hogg?

PS: I’ve read Hogg, of course. I think it’s supposed to be like a Tom Of Finland cartoon and it doesn’t do all that much for me. I like Times Square Red, Times Square Blue and The Madman much more but I’m uneasy about so fucking many of the community conclusions and connective politics. I honestly don’t think they exist. I go to the same kind of places Mr. Delany does, or did, I don’t know, and I have very different experiences.

FANZINE: When I think of contemporaries, I also pause at William Vollmann. But you’ve been critical of him and his work.

PS: I’m not convinced. He sounds untouched. A bad liar with quaint reasoning. We’re looking for different things, though. I don’t feel I have anything in common with such traditional concern.

FANZINE: People have referred to your books as formless, though there are obviously internal structures and connective patterns. How do you map the texts?

PS: I write what I like and connect the underlying themes and strains later. See what comes through, basically. Tick had a very clear numbering system running through it. Selfish, Little had a fairly rigid template. I suppose Comfort & Critique, though, has the most structure in that the news clips were very carefully selected and then placed in a very specific order. The book itself then came from that order and the general assumption that created it.

FANZINE: Proxy makes your self-sampling more explicit. Do you have an overall climax in sight?

PS: No. But Proxy was designed, in large part, to draw out specific degenerative repetitions. That’s exactly why the books aren’t in chronological order. The last three books are presented as going backwards and the first two books are, sort-of, the index. The introduction is made of excerpts from newer unpublished material constantly concerned with how most of the sex joints and expectations are gone or dying fucking badly. But it’s not a narrative, you know?

FANZINE: Was its two-column newspaper-style layout intentional?

PS: Probably not. It might be something that both Jim Goad––when he published Total Abuse––and James Williamson from Creation had in mind, though. I’m far more interested in the text being like a book than a newspaper. I’m responsible for the layouts of Pure and Parasite, but not the books. The images are mine, though. I don’t try to comment on newspaper and media hypocrisy, I’m just largely unable to get away from it.

FANZINE: In Comfort & Critique you write, “I’m absolutely sick of the differences between intention and interpretation. I want to create an art that is ideally shored. One that can’t be misunderstood any longer. Not by the powers that want to see me jailed or by the fucking mice that pretend I’m doing something socially significant.” How do you intend to make this happen?

PS: The work can only be done as writing. Where one sentence explains the one before it. Full length books. I’ve seen the questions I bark out used out of context and sold as something else, something less. I want to make sure the answers are rigorously considered and that can only be done by writing books, not creating advertising. I don’t have a blog or a e-commerce website.

FANZINE: What is it about the question and answer format and interrogation that lends itself to your project? And often, there’s often a noticeable disjunction between the question and the response.

PS: There’s some disjoint in the careful wording of the questions themselves. The way the questioner tells the answerer how to think isn’t subtle but still, almost always, almost naturally, accepted. Of course, there is my own internal dialogue at work, often enough, that finds focus and excitement in the way others pose and answer highly personal, as well as grossly impersonal, questions. That search for so-called brutal truth that is vain and badly done. The way cops and artists come off exactly like street corner faggots asking toothless hustlers if they’re cold without coats. The way that it can keep getting worse. The idea that others may know what’s best for you. May want to protect you and need to explain that to you. There’s quite a few reasons.

FANZINE: When did you meet Jamie Gillis?

PS: I met him in SF about six years ago, I guess. David Aaron Clark suggested it, originally. Jamie, as I see him, is exactly the rare sort-of person who understands the Q & A dynamic. He looks to me as if he genuinely wants to understand why these people, himself especially, do these things, these acts. Or want to see them. He asks legitimate questions and can’t be blamed for the bad answers of the participants. Or the low expectations of his audience. I do absolutely think he’d like to get more than type.

FANZINE: In Comfort & Critique, you write about the press defining victims, but the narrator also makes it known that he is not “blaming the parents or the other particulars or suggesting something about the nature of the press.” Still, there seems to be a hazy area where such a critique pops up.

PS: Such a critique of the press or the general media just seems obvious to me. You don’t get news reports that are devoid of spin and you don’t get news reporters who don’t wink at you because of that. So critiquing the nature of the press seems redundant and unimportant. There’s a huge market for such examinations, especially in music and film, but it doesn’t mean all that much to me. I’m far more interested in how that thinking creates the bodies and personalities it reports on. To be precise, and use the quotes you pull, Sara Payne gradually became the product that the news wanted. Or, at least, the side I’m sold. But not as a concentrated and conscious marketing ploy. Rather as someone, emotionally reduced or not, might respond to comfort and attention, sympathy and flattery, incredible existential and physical loss. It’s similar to what most people might say they want in a relationship. I’m not just saying that the press is lying.

 

Book

Peter Sotos Lazy
Creation Books

‘Peter Sotos, the writer who ‘rapes a blank page’, whose pen is the verbal knife of a sadist’, unleashes his latest controversial dispatch from the cutting edge of pornography, sexual abuse and degradation:

‘Drawing from his own experiences, insights and investigations, Sotos slices open the dark underbelly of the sex industry and reveals the harsh, gritty and brutal extremes that lurk within. From prostitution, pornography and drug abuse to the most notorious sex crimes, Soto’s obsession with the darkest side of humanity is relentless and uncompromising.

‘Intersected throughout with newspaper extracts reporting on and responding to sex crimes and related subjects (such as Myra, Marcus Harvey’s controversial portrait at the recent ‘Sensation’ exhibition in London), Lazy not only presents an unsanitised account of pornographic excess and extreme sex, but through its frank delivery, it questions society’s own, often hypocritical, fascination with these taboo subjects.’ — Creation Books

Excerpt

 

 

*

p.s. Hey. ** _Black_Acrylic, If I wore scents, Griff Raff’s review would have totally sold me, no surprise. Your bro’s Dubai report conforms to all of my presuppositions about the place, but yikes. ** jay, Hi, yeah, food has been happening here of late, I wonder why but shall not wonder too hard. Thanks! My apartment in Paris is logistically identical to the ones on three floors below and two above, although I think my ceilings might be a wee bit taller. My LA apartment, on the other hand, is quite eccentric, designed and built by hand by an old Sicilian man who was ‘famous’ for being the first person to bring olive oil to Los Angeles. By the time I moved there in the early 90s he was just a pile of ancient, murmuring flesh perpetually propped in a deck chair on his porch. I hope you’re enjoying your current, presumably less meaningful home. ** Dominik, Hi!!! I’m just really quiet and polite with check-out people, hand over the cash, pack my carry bag, decline the receipt and scurry away. I think my favorite thing in my apartment is this antique desk lamp in the shape of a very fem looking cavalier guy holding a fountain pen that I stole from my previous apartment, and, yes, he would taste good. Hopefully hot apple pie with a massive scoop of vanilla ice cream. Love beating around the bush whatever that old American homily even means, G. ** Dev, No shame and even kind of fun sometimes. The lost novel really was probably terrible. I was still a mere aspiring novelist at the time. Interesting about the ugh re: food based art. Hm, I can see that. ** l@rst, Another person revolted by the artistic use of food. How interesting. Your status quo makes other people’s status quo seem like naps. Oh, yeah, when I swore off drugs and basically swore off alcohol, which I never liked anyway, back when and realised my unaltered brain, unless coffee counts, was the trippiest drug ever, it was so nice! Take care, you too. ** DonW, Whoa, you made it inside! I think, or hope, that the captcha problem might finally be dead. It took ages, if so. I did see ‘Pavements’. I had some issues with it, but I love Pavement so much that I was just thrilled to have the access. Nothing like them. Top tier forever band. So, dude, how have you been and how are you? ** julian, As a vegetarian, I must say that is quite the transgressive performance. I know Peter, although I haven’t talked to him in a while, but your sense of him is very true. He’s very aware that broader fame, especially in this time of the hair trigger offendables, would only lead to personal hell for him. And there he is (look up). ** Good Old Gee, Well, hi there, pal! I’ve been good, very busy. Three books! Never mind, I haven’t been that busy. I’m sorry about your partner separation, but you sound pretty okay with that. This month might be hard. I’ll be in the US and Canada for the second half showing the film. Love you back! ** Jeff J, Hi, Jeff. Yeah, great getting to talk with you and look at you on Monday. Yes, we’d love to show the film where you are if there’s any interest. Thank you! And thanks for the JC links. I was going to go hunt them. Everyone, The superb author Jeff Jackson additionally has a fine band called Julien Calendar, if you don’t already know that. And … well, I’ll let him guide you. Jeff: ‘Here are links to recent short Julian Calendar EPs we released: SOFTER THAN BOMBS (minimalist electronic tunes w/ cover of “Pump Up the Jam”): link #1, and MORE SONGS ABOUT ABOUT CLASS RESENTMENT AND SURVEILLANCE CAPITALISM (New Wave + No Wave samples): link #2. I look forward to digging in. xo. ** Carsten, Hey. Thanks about the French release. Yeah, we’re very psyched. I can feel that ‘finally’. I’ve never really ‘gotten’ Germany, as an immediate surrounding, I mean. Thanks for the invite. I would definitely wait until you guys have as close to a normal fall or winter or maybe spring as your country can geographically provide. ** HaRpEr //, Substack is clearly the happening locale. People often ask me why I don’t do the blog there. And I guess the answer is because I hate moving homes? I only follow maybe 4 or 5 things there so far. Speaking for myself, I suspect that less of a mess is probably the best you can hope for when you’re an artist with ambitions who gives a shit. ** Steeqhen, Congrats on the bag reunification. Okay, yeah, your food thing would definitely complicate having a particularised diet on top of that. Having a routine can be peacemaking, for sure, says the guy who does a blog six days a week. Yes, write it and the dedication plus your interest level will determine where it goes. ** Darby🐋, Have so much fun in LV. There’s that Area 51 place that newly has that year-round Halloween Horror Nights haunted house-based theme park place, but it might be expensive, I don’t know. Sure, I’d like to see the photo, and looking at you is the opposite of a drawback. I would say yes, further befriend that person of whom you spoke. You were def a good person to help that girl. Def. Yeah, I’ll be going to Chicago and then Toronto to show the film in about a week and a half or something like that. ‘Pops’ cereals .. you mean like Coco Pops and that short of thing? I’m all for them. Probably the less pre-sweetened ones the most. You? Tell me how everything was. Have a blast. Accept my envy. ** Uday, Thanks, pal. Yeah, my boxes are essentially furniture. I guess having a lot of blood in your body is very important, or so they say. But wooziness can be ok. I might write more poems, never say never. No, I don’t think poetry is too easy. If anything it seems too hard or I mean whatever talent I have doesn’t seem capable of conquering that form to my satisfaction. That’s more the problem. ** Bill, Your tastes are understandable. I just saw something about that Karl Lemieux/Daniel Menche performance, I can’t remember what. Oh, to have Crossroads in my hood, even if it were hot. We’re still slowly rising out of the annual August Paris dead zone over here. ** Right. Today you have Peter Sotos to think about and read. See you tomorrow.

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