Vis the Spoon presided at a bonanza of festive music and nonsense at The Cross Kings: The Spoonful Christmas Mash-Up. Trombone poetry set sail in a torrent of turns, including Rock & Roll Steve, the enigmatic Jude Cowan, the adventurous Maria Slovakova, thewhatthe Dangerous T, and the unstoppable Spinmaster Plantpot.

Over and outwards.

The glorious Klinker presented free-improvising trombone poetry after a set of accordion ruminations from Matt Scott’s Squeezebox Jukebox. Winding up the evening, all the way from Frankfurt, Skizzenzwang brought a rare assemblage of guitar, electronica and sitar.

In the Hoxton boozer, Howl at the Moon, trombone poetry joined the perpetrators of Artrocities, a night of musical cabaret hosted by The Readers with their nautical cornettist and Dadaist doings.

A distinct change of scene for Freedom of Expression II in Gipsy Hill: a church, whose acoustics favoured the songs of Ben Sommers, Miriam Jones and Tim Eveleigh. A fresh batch of foundlings and Metro poems were recited in a cough-plagued trombone poetry set. Tom Nicholls’ superb photographs of the event can be found here.

Freedom of Expression now also has an internet radio station, where trombone poetry is somewhere in the schedule.

Other recent broadcasts were on Cork Campus Radio and L’étranger on Radio Panik from  Brussels, wherein trombone poetry is mysteriously backed by Ben Watson struggling to explain Marshall McLuhan. Download the podcast.

A poem about trombone poetry has been included in a new anthology from Salt Publishing: Troubles Swapped for Something Fresh, Manifestos and Unmanifestos, edited by Rupert Loydell.

This unlikely claim was topped by I Can Hear The Grass Grow, Resonance FM’s horticultural special, wherein trombone poetry offered a vaguely seasonal bouquet of verbiage at very short notice, together with another absolute world premiere, Aitken’s Acres, for the green-fingered florist himself.

There followed a short trombone poetry tour of Bethnal Green, beginning at The Gallery Café in Old Ford Road, whose fine wine and penne arrabiata eased our way through nervy folk songs and emoting a capella soul. The day after, trombone poetry nipped round the bend to kick off Freak Show, at The Star of Bethnal Green. This was suitably mad, rude and baffling, with stand-up poetry from Sophie Cameron and nautical performance art from The Readers, plus Sarah Ruff as chief barker.

Safely back south of the river, trombone poetry supported Buster Keaton. Elefest provided a tent, The Groovy Movie Picture House, and a film, Keaton’s masterpiece, The General. Sebastiano Genovese provided unfrenetic guitar accompaniment. Long live Elefest!

There’s now a Facebook Page, as well as the Facebook Group.

Let there be dancing.

The Blowpipes mixed medieval music with Edith Piaf, free improvisation and Star Trek at Islington’s Union Chapel, at a very well-managed stained-glass special run by Daylight Music. Earlier, a man with a laptop was suspected of only miming the key-prodding, though he did seem to be singing something.

At Freedom Of Expression, Alice Doyne sparkled in song, despite being poorly, Tom Janssen tantalized with tunes from his forthcoming guitar album, trombone poetry played tunes from Speech, and Sue Verran shone to the finish.

In a new venture at the Ritzy Picturehouse in Brixton, trombone poetry joined forces with top-notch songster Daniel Maitland for Upstairs At The Ritzy. A stage, a bar, a balcony, a few sirens: we hope to be back for a winter re-run.

The visit culminated in a lunchtime hour at The Jazz Bar, a gem of a cellar in Chambers Street. The set spiralled out from New Orleans ruminations to poems on time, sex and corner shops. The new pork-pie hat seemed to strike exactly the right note, which, if so, means the trombone was, for once, not unaccompanied.

A copy of Speech is now in the possession of The Scottish Poetry Library, another jewel of the city.

At a secluded location in leafy Kent, trombone poetry revealed more than the average musician at the Naturist Foundation Jazz Festival. This was a very sunny affair, brightened further by a magnificent beer tent, boasting Old Peculier, among other treats. A grab bag of jazz poetry was hooted out to the tanned multitude. Album sales could have been better, but it was apparent fairly early on that no-one had brought any money.

I’m performing at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, 7-29 August

with Roberto Pla at:

El Barrio Night Club
119 Rose Street
Edinburgh
EH2 3DT

info@elbarrio.co.uk

El Barrio Resturant & Bar 0131 220 6818

There will also be a few trombone poetry gigs here and there, including:

26 August 13:30-14:30

The Jazz Bar

1A Chambers Street

Edinburgh

EH1 1HR

Cost: £3/£2

At The Klinker, some wag distracted the elephant-trainer while his stooge spiked the star turn’s drink with syrup of figs, with momentous consequences. The nervous paper-tearing act, rehearsing quietly in the corner was mistaken for an emergency loo-roll dispenser, all of which ended in tears and tears. Attempts were made to dig out an unlucky salsa dance instructor, but abandoned after a tense 1.25 seconds when rescuers were overcome with euphoria.

The Blowpipes participated at the screening of Fritz Lang’s classic, Metropolis, with a new soundtrack by Paul Hines performed by Serum Electronique at The Montague Arms in Peckham. An electronica soundtrack for this science fiction classic? Not really: humdrum dance tracks throughout, not just for the factory scenes, but even during reflective or melodramatic scenes. Oh dear. Loud though.

Up in Camden, trombone poetry trod the theatrical boards for Arthur’s St George’s Day Jolly at the Etcetera Theatre. Jon Hicks did something acrobatic with elephants: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nBoYApwRjxg

Club Ponderosa hosted an art-crammed festival called antiDOTE, that also unfortunately featured ponderous laptoppery amidst the pleasures. Harumph! A heartening event, nonetheless.

The Blowpipes returned to the The Klinker, after a very long absence, to unleash more improvisations, this time in the cellar of a social club serving pints of mild: Tottenham Chances. A gurning ultra-kitsch singer waggled his fingers over a programmed, jangly keyboard to drive us out into the Tottenham night.

The Spoonful of Poison open-mic has moved from Whitechapel to slicker premises in Shorediitch, viz. The Legion, where The Blowpipes finished their April tour in the company of John Bennett instead of Alan Tomlinson. Dangerous T amused and baffled, and a doomed comic read notes from a scrap of paper. A City banker read poems. You never know.

To blow ones own bone
is no way for a poet.
The wind blows; The poet rhymes.

Mike Gavin

trombone traffic cone
the road should always be clear,
no blocks; words notes drive

Ben Mandelson