John Cooper Clarke

[Neo]

To be honest I knew very little about this guy apart from hearing his name dropped occasionally in Rock and Roll documentaries and the like. BBC4 have just made a doc of their own about him and it was great viewing, so now I know all there is to know I'd like to share it with you

He's a working class poet/comedian/hero from Manchester that became synonymous with the unconventional and irreverent image of the Punk and post-Punk world, by offering it's audience renditions that reflected everyday life, in a style that could be emulated by others without the need for a top class university education or a bent for wandering lonely as a cloud.

Enjoy..

Here's the iPlayer link
BBC iPlayer - Evidently... John Cooper Clarke

And here's the torrent rip... v.good copy btw.
BBC - Evidently John Cooper Clarke [MP4-AAC](oan) Torrent Download

[withnallstoke]

Class act was John.

Punk in as far as he did stick 2 fingers up at everyone, and relied on his very unBBC accent.

Nice one Neo.

[steevee]

wonderful stuff, puts you right there

[kmart]

Majorca
Kung Fu International
Day My Pad Went Mad
Bronze Adonis
Twat

I used to have the elpee "Zip Style Method" as well.
Class.

[taxexile]

I cant link using this fucking android tablet, but look at his evidently chickentown video, or read the lyrics.

He is a true genius.

[Lantern]

Got to see him a few times before I left the UK. Liked him a lot.



If I remember right his band were "The Invisible Girls"

[benbaaa]

I was a big fan and saw him live several times.

Evidently Chickentown

the fucking cops are fucking keen
to fucking keep it fucking clean
the fucking chief's a fucking swine
who fucking draws a fucking line
at fucking fun and fucking games
the fucking kids he fucking blames
are nowhere to be fucking found
anywhere in chicken town

the fucking scene is fucking sad
the fucking news is fucking bad
the fucking weed is fucking turf
the fucking speed is fucking surf
the fucking folks are fucking daft
don't make me fucking laugh
it fucking hurts to look around
everywhere in chicken town
the fucking train is fucking late
you fucking wait you fucking wait
you're fucking lost and fucking found
stuck in fucking chicken town

the fucking view is fucking vile
for fucking miles and fucking miles
the fucking babies fucking cry
the fucking flowers fucking die
the fucking food is fucking muck
the fucking drains are fucking fucked
the colour scheme is fucking brown
everywhere in chicken town

the fucking pubs are fucking dull
the fucking clubs are fucking full
of fucking girls and fucking guys
with fucking murder in their eyes
a fucking bloke is fucking stabbed
waiting for a fucking cab
you fucking stay at fucking home
the fucking neighbors fucking moan
keep the fucking racket down
this is fucking chicken town

the fucking pies are fucking old
the fucking chips are fucking cold
the fucking beer is fucking flat
the fucking flats have fucking rats
the fucking clocks are fucking wrong
the fucking days are fucking long
it fucking gets you fucking down
evidently chicken town
the fucking train is fucking late
you fucking wait you fucking wait
you're fucking lost and fucking found
stuck in fucking chicken town

[capello]

many thanks for the heads up, great documentary, went to his web site, all the poems are there, cheers

[kmart]

^^Proper poetry.

Glad JCC is back from the 10 year wilderness of a smack habit.

Good interview with him here: John Cooper Clarke: 'It's diabolical how poor I am' | Music | The Guardian

[Lantern]

One of my favourites.













The windows are frigidaire icebergs
Frozen in prickly heat
The vanishing cream victims
Are drip-fed amnesia neat
Where the test card melodies warm you
In powder blue pseudo bel air
Germs and flies alarm you
They whisper the word expelair
The eyes of the night sub-zero
Peep through the windows of sleep
Everyone's husband is a hero
And ghost insurance men creep
Through the valley of the long-lost women
Dreaming under the driers
Eating and sleeping and slimming
According to what is required
They walk through three-colour brochures
Depicting palms on aqua-marine
In the half-built hotels out of focus
They're mending the vending machines
Where sixty italian love songs
Are sung to a million guitars
They lick their frozen drinks on sticks
Among the men with important cigars
Numb to the digital numbers
None two three
Four five six
Lost in a far away rhumba
Where the oil-drums are beaten with sticks
She left her heart in frisco
She left her room in a mess
She left her hat in the disco
She never left her address
The diving board springs to assistance
Throws you off from the shore
Telephones ring in the distance
There are lifts getting stuck between floors
A truck turns into a cul-de-sac
Springtime turns to ice
Rucksacks turn into hunchbacks
Musclemen turn into mice
In a painless panorama
With its perpendicular might
The women are going bananas
And disappearing from sight
...what do the girls say?

[alwarner]

Cheers Neo. That was fucking superb. Didn't know much about him before I watched that. Thanks very much.

[benbaaa]

Another one I always loved:

Kung Fu International

Outside the take-away, Saturday night
a bald adolescent asks me out for a fight
He was no bigger than a two-penny fart
he was a deft exponent of the martial art
He gave me three warnings:
Trod on me toes, stuck his fingers in my eyes
and kicked me in the nose
A rabbit punch made me eyes explode
My head went dead, I fell in the road

I pleaded for mercy
I wriggled on the ground
he kicked me in the balls
and said something profound
Gave my face the millimetre tread
Stole me chop suey and left me for dead

Through rivers of blood and splintered bones
I crawled half a mile to the public telephone
pulled the corpse out the call box, held back the bile
and with a broken index finger, I proceeded to dial

I couldn't get an ambulance
the phone was screwed
The receiver fell in half
it had been kung fu'd

A black belt karate cop opened up the door
demanding information about the stiff on the floor
he looked like an extra from Yang Shang Po
he said “What's all this then
ah so, ah so, ah so.”
he wore a bamboo mask
he was gen'ned on zen
He finished his devotions and he beat me up again

Thanks to that embryonic Bruce Lee
I'm a shadow of the person that I used to be
I can't go back to Salford
the cops have got me marked
Enter the Dragon
Exit Johnny Clarke