Drudes and Droogies, Druggies and Drudges,

Please excuse my unbridled joy right now but I have finally finished
THE MEGALITHIC EUROPEAN, and need to celebrate in a big ass way. It was clear from the March 1st deadline that I would be right down to February 29th with the writing, but that’s seemed pretty damned righteous in terms of shamanic portal days – once every four years is good enough for me! So a coupla weeks ago I asked Dorian to get me a March 1st flight out to Antequera, where some forward-thinking Spanish archaeologist has just completed his restoration of the ur-tholos at Romeral. I did the thing and got back there and, man, the feeling of freedom was overwhelming. Antequera was given its name by the Romans to denote how old it was, so you can imagine how aged this place really is! All of the city is centred around three Neolithic hills, something akin to Newgrange, Knowth and Dowth. I didn’t even bother booking a hotel, just waited until I was there and checked into the same transport place that my dear mate Annexus Quamm booked for me almost two years ago to the day. You gots to stay at La Yedra when you go to Antequera to see these mounds, nay hills: it’s only 27 Euros for a night of pure delight and… only downside was I wanted to bring Holy McGrail to see this place but he had to stay indoors on a Red Bull design extravaganza. Still, now I finished the book I get to produce the Stairway to Heavens like I promised, and hassle Doggen to complete his extremely lowbrow Dogntank album before his artfreak side has a chance to notice.

Right now I’m listening to the savagery of Dave Cintron’s pre-Terminal
Lovers band, The Downside Special. In places, these suckers have me fooled it’s the Lovers. Man, there is plenty of great music coming out right now, re-issues as well. I reckon that Henry Flint & the Insurrections has an Album of the Month waiting once I’ve heard it enough. Also, I see Thrones bigger in my mind’s eye every day, as though someone sacrificed The Residents in the sacred wood of Uppsala and recorded their multiple-scaled screams! And if I can find the (uncrowned king of funk) Roger to get his ur-walian albums for sale at least on the Merchandiser, then I’ll be a more than happy puppy. I’m also going to make Vachel Lindsay an Album of the Month pretty soon, and I recently even spent time having it re-mastered from my old 1960s Caedmon musicassette. However, the engineer says its quality sucked major logs so I located a vinyl copy from gemm​.com and that’s gonna do the trick. What a major genius was Lindsay. Also, er look out for the Pentagram review just up on Album of the Month. I hear there’s a coupla factual errors but my mind was all but freyjan in the frypan when I did it so I’m sorry if I balled anything particklier.

The big underground shock of the month is the death of a real hero. Trevor Manwaring, my ally, cohort and esteemed pusher of the real heat has died. It weren’t out of the blue and he’d been ill for ages, but this druid was one of the kindest and most full-on people known to have occupied the human body. The Japanese underground scene in particklier will surely suffer without Trevor’s Blue Cheerian impulses, and wild freerock distorto kings will have to collectively push their amps way up to occupy the space left by Trevor Manwaring. Trevor, I’m SO FUCKING SAD YOU WENT, BABY!!! U‑DA MAN OR WATT!!!

Okay, at that outburst I’ll cut out and keep schtum,

I’m off to not write my book,

JULIAN

M’Lud Yatesbury