Wednesday 25 August 2010

The story of the beautiful bartender......

Hey lovely people - here's some more comic madness for you.
As you can see from the beautiful story below - I still can't draw. I'll of course update you if I do ever learn to draw, but it's very unlikely.

Harvey Pekar couldn't draw.
That's my argument and I'm sticking with it.

Of course Harvey Pekar had Robert Crumb and about 10 million other people who could draw.
Damn my amazing arguments against myself.













Thursday 12 August 2010

Phil on crack special....

I love soap operas. I love them so much that Emily and I once spent at least five hours laughing one Christmas day when we realised that our friend Phil - if he changed his middle names could be called Phillip Martin Barry Evans.

Anyway - Eastenders has surpassed itself this week, beating Zammo from Grange Hill's infamous dragon chasing; Brookside's cult and Bouncer's Dream in one gigantic leap for soap kind.

Ladies and gentlemen, I'm talking, of course, about notable TV hardman Phil Mitchell - on crack!
BEST TV EVER.

In tribute to this televisual feast I've created a special edition of Deirdre.

Take it away Phil.......








Adventures on the periphery of the music industry....

Hello dear everyone, it feels like ages. Has it been a long time since I last treated you to the goings on from my head? Well it feels like ages.

I've been having a rare old time - since I stopped thinking about my artistic endeavours in terms of monthly tasks and just started doing whatever the hell I wanted I've started tapdancing around the edges of the music biz. It all started about six months ago when I discovered that, after about eight years of not getting around to it, I could still play the flute. Even stranger I could suddenly improvise - where I'd never had the balls to do so before. So I started doing the odd bit of folky stuff here and there and suddenly I'm a musician again. I can prove it - who but a true musician would have two bruises on her legs that she has no idea where they're from AND have lasted over a week without going yellow. Seriously - they're still purple.

So I'm either a musician or I'm dying of something horrible.

Anyway - I discovered that I'm not bad at being a musician so I decided to see how far I could blag it and since then I've recorded with a couple of different bands and it's been amazing. The first, Of Moths and Stars are a couple of nice young men (you'd like them mum) who live in Hong Kong and play guitars a lot, the second, a lovely lady called Sira recorded in a studio where Dave Grohl allegedly recorded (unless they were lying on the website. In which case I shouldn't have licked the sofa when everyone left the room.) I wonder if Dave Grohl got horribly lost trying to find it, having taken two buses to find that it was in the middle of a scary looking industrial estate???

Anyway - to celebrate I've put some of my songs on Myspace. Mum emailed me today and said that she couldn't access the songs from here so for anyone else that has this problem here's a handy linky link for you all to play with..... http://www.myspace.com/tommylassoo
Huzah.

In other news - I'm making my next film. I've found a venue, I just need 30 women in Wedding Dresses.

I put all of this down to being 30 by the way. It's a great age, I'm going to be sad when it finishes next month. 30 - we salute you.
xxxxxxxx

Wednesday 4 August 2010

The night my momma killed that girl by Tommy Lassoo

The night my momma killed that girl by Tommy Lassoo

"I looked away the night my momma got the chair,
I hope where she goes they have good cheerleaders there."

So I re-recorded this little gem tonight. Please note the amazingly percussiveness of a box of drawing pins, the slightly croaky voice and the complete and total inability to play the geetar.

On a different note - I'm currently working on the GREATEST VIDEO IDEA EVER.
Watch this space xxx

Monday 2 August 2010

Pretty demo by Tommy Lassoo

Pretty demo by Tommy Lassoo

This is very scary. I have a terminal fear of anyone hearing the music that I make. I have a terminal fear of singing in public.
Oh fuck it.
What is life about if not scaring the be-jesus out of yourself sometimes.

Sometimes you have to close your eyes and jump. Right?

Here are my babies. Go ahead and hate them. xxxx