Chaise Longue

Product Information

Ian Dury himself comes across as a total mess, not necessarily in a good way. And yet. Ian was so completely focused on his music/performance that the rest of his life, lovers, and son seem to have been things he sort of bumped into incidentally, along the way. When a neighbour showed up armed with a hammer to demand a halt to the ominous sound permeating the building “like a hundred baritone witches”, he was escorted by the grinning Dury to a room where an Australian Aborigine, naked but for a loin cloth, was perched over a bath, playing a digeridoo. “The neighbour was trapped in a world only dreamed up in his worst nightmares and, now fully traumatised, froze. Sensing his vulnerability, dad squeezed him on the arm and whispered, ‘You’re OK, You’re OK.’” You could read into that. Maybe you could tie it all in. It’s all from the same soil if you know what I mean? I didn’t quite think of it like that. There’s nothing premeditated like that but I’m guessing there are some links in my search for it. a b c "Rough Trade Records". Roughtraderecords. Archived from the original on 11 October 2007 . Retrieved 10 June 2020. In 2014 he signed a new recording contract with PIAS subsidiary Le Label and released a new album It's A Pleasure. [4]

About him, and also not about him, it hovers a lens maximised to inspect at the predictably bohemian elite prowling around the subterranean art dens that only enable entrance with a membership, whilst also questioning why he all of a sudden finds his vulnerability with its boxers around its ankles and a cig between the lips, wincing at existence, fixating with fitting it, yet always somehow falling out of something. When writing the book, Baxter carried out more research into Strangler’s life, but didn’t like what he found so didn’t include it. “There was some really dark shit there. I decided not to go further because that contaminates my childish version of what I knew of him.” It’s important for me not to take it too seriously. That’s all. There’s nothing really conceptual about it beyond that. If I took fashion or being who I thought I should be too seriously then it’s over with. And no one who could be convinced of what I do anyway. I think there has to be a bit of me that has to be quite self-effacing or aware of that who I think I’m not. Or some strange…whatever. The right side of vanity, the wrong side of vanity are important to be aware of. Every sentence blooms with possible illuminating song titles. An irrepressible flash of the catch when swimming through the consciousness stream, inspired by the notions of the written word as a device to deliver what one day the mind will fail to serve. In Baxter’s words, repositioned here and meditating upon the movements of his father, ”it’s a personal triumph of applied effort”.Baxter and Ian Dury on the cover of New Boots and Panties!!, the latter’s 1977 debut album. Photograph: TheCoverVersion/Alamy Enabling the fables enacted by Baxter and his cohorts as they come of age, comrades fighting crime, fall in love, fall out of it again, run-ins and run-outs, frequently hit by streaks of circumstance and the ensuing tragedies (a car crash when his mum was charged with manslaughter, a protest of swallowing jellies in Hammersmith in 1986), shattered by fierce shots of white light and white heat, but somehow spared and scooped up again by whatever was, and still is, watching the man. In amongst a riot of white noise and rolling of dice across the deserts of an itchy mind with an appetite for anti-authoritarianism, eager to be intrigued, eager to be fulfilled, and more so to be thrilled.

Maybe the most genuine aspects of life, a life according to Baxter, the beat of incredible disingenuous confidence, of confident vulnerability, can get misconstrued as solely that – as solely a box of puzzle pieces from different puzzles that don’t flow as one, that fail to fit homogeneously. But they can all be assembled into pictures of utmost honesty. Baxter can emote remotely with a special kind of spectral humility from his nonsensical riverbank, and in turn, birth a brilliant array of truths, but so much more interesting, and inspired than wiping his snotty nose on his stripy shirt sleeve in the name of such well-worn wank mantras as ‘I’ve got a heart too, y’know?’

It looks like you're using an adblocker.

Always at odds, in a war, on a walk, even when a faint silver lining stretches from one side of the sky to the other, with the world at large, Baxter Dury is not just a musician in his own right, but a man in his own right. His past is one of drama, an apostate, and heir to new wave pop royalty. Methods of parenting and education have progressed in recent years, especially compared to some of the more casually experimental routes inflicted on children of artistic professionals in the 70s and 80s. One experience that would take some beating is that endured by Baxter Dury. On the way home Strangler, now more upbeat, stopped on the All Saints Road in Ladbroke Grove. He waited for all the drug dealers to gather round the car and then wound down the window and hollered, “Grrrrrroooooaaaarrrrgh.” He sped the car for a short distance and then stopped and waited for the dealers to start chasing us, and then repeated this several times. We genuinely screamed for our lives until we were safely out of danger and then thought it was hilarious.

When I was young and pretty useless, there may have been a moment when someone gave me undue recognition, but it didn’t last long. I don’t have any contracts as an influencer,” Baxter jokingly adds after a moment of honest reflection.Is there more to this thing than what’s currently been made available then? Could the book have gone on and on and on about people like your dad, figures like your mum, other characters like the Sulphate Strangler? It’s painted as an experientially rich, interestingly vibrant, mad, wild, dangerous, and oddly alluring place to be alive and young to the point that in a way it could have been an endless piece of work… Maserati is a man fresh from a fight. Bandanna wrapped around his head, glowing maraca used as some invaluable object, a defensive symbol to worship when raised above his loose-screw head. From familiar opener Leak At The Disco, to classic Slumlord, this undesirable Ziggy at the Ritz, who jerks and jolts to the throb mutant-funk of Almond Milk punked up to the extremes with extra phlegm and ferocity in replacement of Jason Williamson with Sleaford Mods, who serenades a sea of coned, cardboard party hats worn by the night chancers, charged when sharing the same space at the same time, as Porcelain lovingly unleashes itself in ripples of delicate, Gainsbourg-in-the-gutter melodies and infectious James Chance-meets-Jim Morrisson alchemical cool, to charmingly cast spells, to tug on the arrow’s tail and shoot it through the sweeps of euphoric air composed of cigarette smoke and dry ice. In August 2021 Dury combined with producer Fred Again for the single "Baxter (These Are My Friends)". The same month, he published his memoir, Chaise Longue. [7] Personal life [ edit ] Not for Baxter. A bohemian through and through. Etched into his helix, like father, like son. Or so they say. But Baxter as the assumed anomaly in the family able to be observed, and understood right here, as one with a unique palette of colours to identify a line and fill in those blanks. To be what dad was not but concurrently become what was always going to work best for a peripatetic young man, constantly unsettled and restless. An exponent of rebellion, betwixt by worlds run by mum and dad, polarities that didn’t agree with a Baxter. unwilling to believe and indifferent to the notion of being able to synchronise, satisfyingly, with his surroundings. Or his surroundings, wherever they might be, whoever might be behind him, unwilling to synchronise with Baxter.