Kiani - Metal Kettle

Katrina O'Kane is a wonderful lass from Belfast with a great set of ears. She's also known as Kiani when she uses these ears to put together some of the finest psychedelic electronica that I've come across in this cosmos. It is also imperitive that I note that she also owns a very very tiny chinese hamster who reportedly begins to nod along in appreciation when her bedroom beats come into fruitition after her many hours of toil. In every facet of her work Katrina is inventive and always creative, looping in and out and around and sideways, never giving away where you'll end up sonically - all of which is no doubt the result of her time spent tweaking and fine tuning and setting the listener on an audio adventure.

Head over to her soundcloud page or her myspace to find out more and have a listen, also check out the first part of my illustration below which I completed for her forthcoming mix Metal Kettle which we're hoping to drop around hyper hip establishments soon in order to become rich.


You can now follow my exploits on Twitter, givus a chance to impress you in 160 characters.


I'm exhausted from the weekend and I didn't even do anything. I watched a film, that was about it. Ate a large pizza on the sabbath, that mighta done it. I was a wreck in work, so tired I had to type one handed in relays alternating between my left and right, in order that one hand be delivering constant massage to my brittle limbs. I can feel cold nipping into my joints and a concept of a wheezing cough has just been pushed through to the development stage by the higher level guys who work in the complaints cortex of my brain.

It's my birthday next week and it's reached the stage where the numbers are getting too big. 10 is good. 10 was a great number, I remember when I turned 10 and running the number through my mind ONE.............ZERO.........ONNNEE......ZEERRROOOO. It felt big, important, resonated around and hummed in the air like when you heard it on Seasame Street. 10!

Twenty Seven. 27. Twenty Seven sounds terrible. Sounds disappointing. Sounds like the number of pounds I have in the bank. Sounds like the name of a shitty ad agency with a bad logo.

Here, I'll put it in a sentence for you and you can decide whether it sounds good or not:

The massacre in the jungle was revolting, all twenty seven bodies lay boiling in the sun, their guts fizzing and hissing with pus, their blood turning the dry earth into an undulating bog surrounded by a dense wall of foetid insects feasting on the twenty seven corpses.

See? I used it twice there for effect, just in case you missed it the first time.

I cheered myself up today by doing a little mess around with patterns and colours though so I'm not really all doom and gloom, I'm only saying all this shit so that the following picture radiates positivity.


I was hoking through my old stuff in my bedroom at home this past July 12th weekend in a fitful state of boredom and in a similar case to my fav blogger Tuesday Kid, I came across a diary full of adolescent emotional vomit from when I was 17, which, weirdly enough was started 10 years to this very month.

It was all a bit embarrassing if I'm honest. In order to give you a taste of how inward looking and narcissistic I was (well aware of the irony of writing that on my blog where I talk about myself btw) here's a choice quip from September 13th 2001

[This entry was three journal pages long and this quote is the very last paragraph]

"...Oh and I should mention that some terrorists blew up the Twin Towers in America a few days ago, could this mean war? I really hope not as I feel I've only just started to live, there's so much more to see, I want to do so much with my life..."

Several pages of teenage angst followed by this vile summation of a world changing event in which many people perished and all I could think of at the time is whether I would ever get my hole...

It's a very introspective time of year here and by that I mean that its a time where we all stick our heads in the sand, thats what I was doing at least. I don't feel too hot about it.

Niall Niall Nine

This was produced for the h'award winning Irish music blog Nialler9 to help promo the rather fantastic monthly podcast Niall puts together over there - check out the blog yourself, it brings together music from this fair isle and the best of the rest of international new music. Also the latest podcast has some really great tracks on there, the new one from HEALTH is really top.

Niall also tells the tale of how this image came into fruition, and he's spot on, it was indeed inspired by a crazed, metal loving taxi driver who wanted nothing more than to rock out to AC/DC and tell me that all the music I liked was sheeeite. The podcast should see to him then.

Besides this great bloggin news, I also have a big backlog of stuff that I've done for other people out there but can't show it for a week or so yet, so stay tuned for further music related illustration coming up!

That's Good

My housemate/gal Friday says he was looking at old photos of me online the other day.

"Not in a sinister way" he added, slightly too quickly, and I saw his eyes dart to the left which as we all know from Derren Brown is a sure sign of fibs being towled (either that or there was something happening very quickly in the peripheral of his vision.)

"It was funny" he added after an uncomfortable beat "You look really different from just a few scant years ago, I couldn't believe it - it was like looking at someone I didn't know"

With my inbuilt Ego-stroking radar activated I look for my chance to avail of any incoming compliments about my (now maturing) looks as I slide into my late 20s - "I look...better Than a few years ago, right?"

A lengthy pause blooms in the conversation between us, causing a gulf of silence to bloom in the gap between us. In the dull quiet of my room I hear a car skitter off down the road past the window, the whinnying engine gradually ebbing away into the hum of traffic in the distance.

"No-you-just-look-different" the words slosh out of his face quickly and rain down on me. I purse my lips together tight and don't look up at him.

"Different" He again stutters, softer this time, as if trapped in an infernal loop.

Then he slips out of the room and I'm looking at old pictures and reaching for the gin and then maybe weeping and wondering what happened to my youth and its my birthday again soon and I should get around to all that stuff I meant to do and whatever happened to the years 2002-2008 what happened to them..


So anyway, I'm going to have to teach my housemate what to say whenever the inevitable happens and he and his girlfriend have a similar conversation in the future.

So many words about so little

Work grinding you down? Your boss giving you a hard time? Co-workers constantly harping on about their putrid children? Is Facebook blocked? Are you blocked?

In order to break the monotonous routine I've come up with a few things you can do to turn a waking nightmare into a paralysing trance (which is marginally better)



In order to play 'BREAK-TIME ADVENTURE GAME™' you'll need access to an unmonitored email account and an understanding and willing co-worker who will indulge your childish whims. In order to begin the game you first need to grab a random image from the 'net and then write a descriptive passage about said picture along with the potential for a developing storyline, characters and various actions that will transpire within the 'game'. (Admittedly this is alot of work for your tea break and some might argue that you've just swapped your regular job for that of a 3rd rate Hollywood scriptwriter, but no matter, truth is your imagination is your only escape from monotony - go wild) You will then email this off to your lovely co-worker who will then write back about what actions they will undertake within the scenario you've just created. Here's one I done earlier:



"Thassit bitches - whistle while you work"

The inspiring words there of a certain Mister Walt Disney which eventually made its way, unfortunately censored, onto the big screen. It's a sentiment that still resonates with me today, as I whistle my way up and down the offices corridors and in and out of the elevators and round and round the ventilation system as I clamber through them on especially dark days.

Try it yourself.

3. Form an Elastic Band


Become the Office Cowboy.

Once this trick is perfected you are now able to take your like minded co-worker and have High Noon style stand-offs in the fluorescent glow of your crummy break room.


There's a sniper in your building - an imaginary one of course! Haha! This is a game for two+ players. During the course of the day someone is going to get pretend-sniped through the skull by a disgruntled former pretend-employee of the company.

You lose the game when sniped and this is achieved when a co-worker who is also playing the game shouts or mouths the word 'SNIPER' during the course of the working day. you are then obliged to make the necessary screams of pain and emulate brain tissue exploding from the half of your face which has been pretend-blown off. Combine SNIPER with game 3 for ultimate arousal. If you do not comply to the call of 'SNIPER' you have lost and are 'a dick'.

Risk factor is high during crowded meetings when calls of 'SNIPER' are most likely to occour.

Fun factor is low as you have been working in your office for far too long and the game of SNIPER is really just a cry for euthanasia.