what do they think they're doing? / horsemouth and the lord of hellfire (erm. at a perfume launch)

what do they think they're doing?

so horsemouth is back from being interviewed, oh his poor ego it may not be able to take the strain. horsemouth gets to sound like a revolutionary hero when in fact he's just a lazy sod. but it's also made him a bit thoughtful. as usual having said something in response to a question there is always something else that should be said as well.

for horsemouth (and he suspects others) the interesting thing about the gentrification is that the gentrifiers just don't see that what they are doing could be a problem.

at one point in the proceedings - on an abortive mission to make it to the windsor castle (gentrified) travelling up the lower clapton street of gentrification shame - an employee of a wine bar emerged to protest against the 'negativity', to speak in defence of a 'local business' providing 'good food'. ('hey just be more dog guys!') this is possibly where the mismatch between what new hackney charges and what old hackney can afford is at its highest and, consequently, where the issue of who all this stuff is for, and who it is not for, is clearest.

it's an unwritten rule of gentrification (and the closely related market differentiation) that the higher prices are there precisely to deter those whose custom is not desired - if you have to worry about how much the coffee costs you can't afford to have it. people are also kept out by a careful use of the cultural codes of distinction and taste and shop-fitting (that 'hipster-style') - pay seven quid to sit at school desks? nah. poor people peer in the window as they hurry quickly past 'it's not for us'. but of course this also means the owners are free from any worry about being accused of any actual racism, or being against poor people themselves 'they just don't come in'. the business is a local business (and should thus be supported against the multinationals providing food at prices people can afford) and the food is good food for which more should be paid - you have a masters in wine dude, horsemouth is sure it's a good four pound glass of wine.

the rest of the week horsemouth buys food by weight and when it's on offer and when working lives on supermarket sandwiches but on his day off horsemouth has been known to do the turkish cafe breakfast and follow it up with a few pints in the murder mile.

and what's wrong with that? (asks the sommelier). people are having nice experiences, businesses are thriving and with all that extra money walking around horsemouth can't blame people for grabbing some of it. but for horsemouth what was special (hackney as a place of possibility for those with not much money - look at the improv scene, the four aces the drum and bass scene, the raves, the pirate radio stations) is ending and being replaced with an airport departure lounge mediocrity.

of course these local businesses are parts of chains and multinationals anyway - the gentrification is not paper thin but the jobs that go with it are - the businesses are vulnerable to (and nervous of) bad publicity.

horsemouth worries about to what extent the squatters were the last wave of possibility or the first wave of gentrification. to horsemouth the real motor of gentrification is the closeness of the inner city to the City not the great art and music that squatters made (to be frank most of it was pretty terrible). of the subsequent artists horsemouth thinks that they are directly in the service of capital and that they don't see a contradiction there - once art functioned as a critique of life and its shortcomings (and hence of capitalism), now these two circles lie ontop of each other and peoples art and music merely celebrates what is.


horsemouth and the lord of hellfire (erm. at a perfume launch)

from gentrification to perfume... (normal service will be resumed soon)

it's a bright cool morning but the news from the world is grim. meanwhile horsemouth is recovering having been to a perfume launch (he's not hungover but he seems to be coughing up ambergris).

perfume launch? sorry what was that horsemouth? a perfume launch? yes a perfume launch people. it was horsemouth's first perfume launch (john's second) and very enjoyable it was too - three members of comus played (cominus) and the evening ended with a performance by arthur brown (from the crazy world of arthur brown) , otherwise known as the lord of hellfire.

horsemouth arrived early and sought sanctuary from the disturbing possibility that he was at a perfume launch by clustering near the musicians making nice meditative ambient dronescapes near an enlarged garden shed. the perfume designer walked from exhibit to exhibit and told tales of family and travel and connection - each fragrance came from a memory - the smell of his father's gardening jacket (for example) - here come forward and smell it. there was a comic book telling the stories (which would receive dabs of the perfume). soon the vast underground space in soho (cunningly hidden beneath and behind a record shop) was full of the smell of perfume. there was a graphic novel too - telling a tale of sandalwood smuggling.

horsemouth and john nipped out for food and then returned to what turned out to be free beer and the evenings music - both cominus and arthur brown were great, the graphic novel author's band (werewheels) that started off the evening were enjoyable. horsemouth has seen arthur brown perform 'fire' - he's still got it.

the economics of this evening remain pleasantly opaque - horsemouth is clearly not the intended customer, he is not a buyer of perfume (though an argument could be made that out of kindness to his fellow commuters that in this hot weather particularly he should buy deodorant, not that he does you understand). 'they can't think we have any cultural capital'? remarked a friend, and indeed horsemouth doesn't see any reason why you should rush out and buy perfume on his say-so, he may tell you who they are, out of gratitude for them throwing a good party and telling him a good story, ok - gorilla perfumes. but that's as far as it goes.

perhaps the perfume isn't really the gig (the moment when they get paid), but horsemouth finds it hard to believe that records and comic books are the gig either (and the gig can't be the gig because it was free). it is pleasurable to visit the topsy-turvey world of promotion (as strange a thing as horsemouth has found down any rabbit hole).