Sean ‘Midnight Bell’ Walsh, Herr Matthew Coleman and A. Stevens.
3:AM reviews editor Lee Rourke reports from the Social Disease social / Straight From the Fridge 1st birthday bash held last week as part of London Lit Plus:
I walked all the way to the venue for Heidi James’ Social Disease Social (both a celebration of her marvellous imprint Social Disease Publishing and first birthday of Adelle Stripe’s Brutalist website Straight From the Fridge) in the hammering rain. I was pissed off. I phoned Matthew Coleman twice to ask him directions. He laughed. He gave them to me. My feet were sodden. The event was held in a private members’ club down a quiet Mews just off of Regent Street. It was a great venue (to be honest it could have been anywhere; I was just glad to be warm and have some vodka inside me): labyrinthine; dark; moody, and awash with books on shelves, comfy leather chairs, and little table lamps that cast just the right kind of hue. I could see Heidi James running around making sure that everything was ready. I said hello to the proprietor of Apis books Rebekah Lattin-Rawstrone (who, as ever, was very charming) and then Mr A. Stevens walked into the room. He seemed happy enough with the surroundings but I couldn’t hear a word he was saying because at this point there was a sound check happening in the other room. The place soon filled up. Writers, boozers, freaks (there were plenty of real freaks), musicians and, well, haughty private members’ club types.
The evening was billed as a “night of anti-reading” (although there was one brilliant reading from Adelle Stripe, above) so selections of our work (random snippets from my forthcoming short story collection Everyday and poetry from the likes of Matthew Coleman, Adelle Stripe, Ben Myers, and Joe Ridgwell) were mounted and put up on the walls for people to read at their own volition. There was also a “Lucky-Dip” box with sealed envelopes inside containing excerpts and snippets and poems and stuff from us all. Again, people could just wander up to it, stick in a hand and grab some work to read at their leisure.
Heidi James kicked off proceedings with a talk/debate in the lecture room (really, there was a lecture room in an annex at the back of the club) about Social Disease, her reasons for starting an independent publisher, and what she really thought/thinks about the current mainstream publishing climate. It was interesting stuff; answering questions from the packed floor with intelligence, wit, and aplomb.
Then guests were invited to read the work on the walls or take a lucky-dip into the box. I took this as my chance to get another drink in at the bar and say hello to various people I hadn’t seen in ages.
Next up, on the main stage, was Duke Garwood (above). For me he was the highlight of the entire evening and I was truly transfixed with his scuzzy, intelligent, blues-ridden “death ballads”. He was simply fucking uber cool, end of.
We were then treated to God Love You For A Liar (above) who were great fun. Their set literally took over the room (including a bassist who moved like a man possessed). Good stuff, indeed.
Adelle Stripe (above, with Heidi James) is a great poet; she has proved this time and time again. I never tire from hearing her read. Tonight she entered the stage wearing a bull’s mask because “bulls are a sign of brutality and I’m a Brutalist”. If you haven’t read her work I suggest you do. At times acerbic and poignant, demonstrative and incensed she knows how to write without pulling her punches. It is poetry that is real and progressive and I can’t wait for a publisher to stick out their necks and publish this rising star.
The room was busy and everyone had a charming evening. We drank a lot. Then I decided to go home. It took me twenty minutes to find a taxi to take me back to East London. The driver asked me what I had been doing and I stupidly told him that I had been to “my publisher’s anti-reading as part of LL+”. I spent the entire journey explaining to him just what an anti-reading is and why we had started LL+ in the first place. It was worth every syllable.
First posted: Sunday, July 8th, 2007.
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