Since launching the anti-literary Sylvia Plath Fan Club in 2015, I’ve been doing more gigs, as a poet. What does that even mean, huh? Basically, I stand up on stage – often between bands, MCing, introducing, doing poems – y’know? Come see me…and you’ll get it…
I published my first collection late last year – got it on billboards outside the Ace Hotel in Shoreditch. Thanks Daylite LED Media. So easy.
The cover was designed by Luke McLean – one of my fave people, and designers (Supergrass, London Field Brewery, Wrangler etc). You can buy Unedited on the Cold Lips website, or from me at gigs for a fiver… [here’s something nice on it by fellow Lazy Gramophone member, the brilliant skateboarding performance poet, Mat Lloyd].
My nearest gigs are tomorrow – Thursday – the last night of the residency I’ve been doing with Saint Leonard’s Horses at the International Club’s Winter Conclave at the George Tavern in Whitechapel, then on Saturday 18th, I’m doing my first out of town gig for Cultural Traffic.
Sometimes I do readings with film – this is work in progress…
My first reading was for Ambit, nearly 10 years, I was terrible – it was a 2000 word short story, called Lyla, and I just got up and read it cold to some poor darlings above a pub in Soho. After that, my ol’ pal Salena Godden started the Book Club Boutique. I’d been working on my novel, and needed to break up the style, and found poetry a good way to find a more honest voice, away from the corporate writing, and paid media work I’ve grown up doing.
Now people say nice things:
“Kirsty Allison is the most rock n roll poet in London” Kelli Ali
“Wordsmith wizardry” Adam J Harmer, Fat White Family
“Her poetry is the only that gives me goosebumps” Delilah Holliday, Skinny Girl Diet
“She’s a modern day Patti Smith” Johny Brown, Band of Holy Joy
Was my pleasure to MC amid left-bank optimism in the wilds of Brixton. Johny Brown – frontman of legendary folk-punk heroes, Band of Holy Joy invited the gorgeously French band over, A Singer Must Die
– so it all went pretty indie.
Packed crowd also got to hear Morton Valence. Love. Robert ‘Hacker’ Jessett looks like George Michael undercover, Anne Gilpin’s more bonnie than her Hacker Clyde.
When doing my homework, I discovered how poetic translations can be – finding zillions of versions of Baudelaire, Rimbaud & Verlaine. Being the kind of girl who has to order the first thing she sees on a menu, in fear of indecision, I went freestyle and opted to make my own really bad translations below…
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Enemy. Baudelaire. Kirsty translation v1.
My youth was nothing but a tempest storm
Broken brilliant with sun rays
The thunder and the rain have ravaged me
And sickened fruit in my garden lays
Voila – touched by the autumn of my creative life
I prepare my shovel and pick
To reassemble the earth and soils
Arrêt – this water must not lick through cracks to tombs beneath
And who knows if the flowers that I dream
of finding in this sun will root or wash away, a tragedy,
Never finding the mystic thing which offers their vigorous beauty
O doulear! Alas – time eats life
and the obscure enemy locked to our heart is blood lost,
growing from this fortified dust…
In response to my enemy
Time is my enemy
Not nature
I fight in bars
On dancefloors
In praise of love
Of life raw
Lost
At the aftershow
Before there was Burroughs, shooting his wife, Rimbaud shot Verlaine.
And after Rimbaud came Penny Rimbaud (creator of anarchic band, Crass)
Honoured to contribute to Bad Punk – performing a piece by Johny Brown at around 20′. There are also bits from Bill Drummond, Brian Eno – trainspotter’s paradise.
The engineering/production is by Peter Smith, keyboardist in Band of Holy Joy – he’s good, uh?
Images from Phil Strongman’s exhibition of Street Culture at 8 Balmes Road, London, N1 – closes Tuesday.