Oddendale stone circle in Cumbria was dedicated to the Norse God.

Heath Stompers, Moor Dwellers, Cunning Lassies & Canny Fellas,

As the dark days of winter continue and our islands prepare to be bombarded by yet another influx of politically dubious, mob-handed ignorant racist homophobes, waiting to disgorge their neo-EEC criminal personalities onto our already-battered psyche, it’s surely time to re-evaluate what we in the West stand for, or whether or not we even stand for anything at all at this stage in the early 007. After the contents of the past couple of Drudions, many have emailed me to ask how I can refer to myself as an Odinist and yet remain Godless. I have, therefore, decided to take up your time by explaining here a little more about what I mean by Odinism, for it is neither an intellectual conceit nor yet another substitute for organised religion, as so many Neo-Pagan cults appear to be. Long before the birth of our two daughters, Dorian and I decided that neither should attend school religious education (yes, yes, yes, all you alarmed foreigners, they still pray in schools here). Furthermore, we decided that our children should be taught to salute only what they could see, and were brought up only to thank the Mother Earth for food, as she was the obvious source of our life here. However, as Jesus Christ always appeared to me to be a wholly useless role model for a man like myself (having died in desert regions through execution aged 33 at the hands of invading oppressors), I decided instead to follow the path of one who lived a long life, who fought for what he believed in rather than turning the other cheek, one whose geographical location was akin to mine, and whose life was informed by the female who spawned him. That figure was Odin, or ‘The Odin’ to be more precise, as his name was actually a title. Unlike the so-called Gods of the present religions (who were later Constructs), Odin is so ancient that he appears throughout our Indo-European languages and was so much a fundamental cornerstone of humankind that he was not a God at all. To the Scandinavian tribes known as the Rus (whence comes Russia and Russky), Odin was the singular shaman, the One, still appearing in modern Russian numbering as Odin, Diva, Tree (One Two Three). His consort was the Goddess, or Diva (she who divides into two by giving birth). Therefore modern Russian betrays its Scandinavian roots by locating Odin and Diva at the head of its numbering. The mythical Odin had only one eye, plucked out as a gift to the Goddess in return for her ancient wisdom. In his most ancient guise he was Od, the singular shaman, still invoked in Shakespeare’s time in such archaic phrases as ‘Od’s Teeth!’ and ‘Od’s Boddikins!’ None of the earliest temples to Odin exist, for the tribes refused to contain him in a building, declaring that the woods themselves were his temples. The Germans called him Woden, the Wooden God of oak forests, whence came the idea of touching wood for luck, frowned upon by Christians, who made out that it was mere superstition. In actuality, touching wood was to remind us of Odin/Woden’s relationship with the sacred tree of Yggdrasil, on which he hung for nine days, fasting in trance. Furthermore, Odin’s realm was not just restricted to the northern realms, for many of his stories of his role as a lawman originate in the Mediterranean latitudes as far east as the Levant. And so, brothers and sisters, my Odinism is no mere intellectual conceit, but rather an ANTIDOTE to the constructed Gods. I challenge the desert priests of Allah, Jehovah and the so-called Christian Gods to explain why their own Gods cannot be found in the everyday language we speak. Indeed, while we still invoke Odin/Woden every Wednesday, and still invoke his comrades Thor (Thursday), Frigg (Friday) and Tyr/Tiw (Tuesday), no such honour has been bestowed upon the so-called Gods of the big three religions that pervade (and infect) our modern culture. The priests of Allah, Jehovah and the Christian God have to rely on faith (and set such store by it) because they can provide no actual evidence of their deities having existed – extensive written ramblings by so-called learned ancestors is no more evidence than Grandpa’s insistence that he once saw a UFO in the 1940s. It’s a nice body of traditions but no more. And we scientific Westerners here in the north rely on evidence. We need no faith, for our evidence is strong. We don’t need Gods, which is why I yell “Death to organised religion”. Because Odin’s not a God and he doesn’t need worshipping, instead I follow his path as a mentor and teacher. He’s ancient and beyond all that, he’s part of the fundament, so he’s useful, and he’s invoked everyday without our even needing to know it… which is why he’s so Rock’n’(fucking) roll!

SESIONES DRONICAS by Fuzzy Lady

ASTRAL BLESSING by Astral Blessing

THOSE PEARLS THAT WERE HIS EYES by Charles Cohen and Ed Wilcox

MATTMAR by Råd Kjetil And The Loving Eye of God

LAKE WINNEBAGO by Zodiac Mountain

LOSS OF EFFECT by Primordial Undermind

But enough, it’s been another month of epic trawling through the musical underground for me, first off yielding the spectacular guitar album SESIONES DRÓNICAS by the Spanish power trio Fuzzy Lady. Led by Mater Dronic’s amazing axe-meister Jose Carlos Sisto, this record is what every self-respecting psych-head would have hoped the 17-minute ‘In-A-Gadda-Da-Vidda’ coulda turned out to be. Like a motorik road-trip Neu take on West Coast Rock, Fuzzy Lady begin on a high, then sustain at their peak for the duration of the entire record. Essential. For pure unbalanced psychedelic guitar overkill, I gots to say the only thing that comes close to these two Fuzzy Lady 20-minutes wah epics was Doggen’s berserk playing on my own 20-minute ‘Eccentrifugal Force’ from the ROME WASN’T BURNED IN A DAY album. By the way, it’s not particularly easy to find SESIONES DRÓNICAS, so try locating it via [email protected] and make El Sisto the star he deserves to be! From America’s new Mad Monk Records comes the astonishing self-titled debut by Astral Blessing, led by Sunburned Hand of The Man’s guitarist Paul LeBreque. This chaotic tripped-out wad of mung worship is more gloriously ostentatious than most such ‘commune’-styled music, LeBreque’s six-string-razor being even more euphoric than Death Comes Along at their most Ronsonized. For an instant hit of their yawp, get over to their Myspace page at www​.myspace​.com/​a​s​t​r​a​l​b​l​e​s​sings. Available only on limited 12” vinyl through Ron Schneidermann’s excellent Surefire Distribution, or directly from [email protected], y’all should grab a cope of this doozy and pronto, Tonto!
Next up, check out THOSE PEARLS THAT WERE HIS EYES by synthesist Charles Cohen and Ed Wilcox, drummer and leader of the legendary Temple of Bon Matin. Technically, the duo employ the same instrumental line-up as Kieran Hebden & Steve Reid featured in their EXCHANGE SESSION album. But the two achieve remarkably different effects due to Charles Cohen’s weapon of choice: a Buchla Music Easel. Longtime Bon Matin fans will recognise Cohen’s name from that band’s Bulb Records album BULLET INTO MESMER’S BRAIN, a swirling soupy cacophony highly informed by the same Buchla Music Easel, designed by ‘60s synth boffin Don Buchla. That machine’s parps, shudders and all-purpose weirdness alone make this record a treat, but the package is rendered essential by Herr Wilcox’s fabulous fine art cover; what a whopper! It can be ordered via [email protected] or at www​.templeofbonmatin​.com. Those in search of dark underworld folk should try the deep mantric ooze of Denmark’s Råd Kjetil And The Loving Eye Of God’s MATTMAR on Goddamn I’m A Countryman Records. It’s a hypnotising trip that ploughs a similar vein to such ‘70s bands as fellow Danes Samla Mammas Manna and stuff on R.U. Kaiser’s Pilz label, though this current album increases the boundaries considerably, stretching out into a Herculean quest for the sonic grail. Only in the last three minutes of the final epic 12-minute track ‘Tjalen’ do the drums kick in, announcing the album’s tail-out in a style of high drama. It’s available from www​.countrymanrecords​.com. Still in need of more fuel with which to locate and then rap at the trapdoor of Hades? Okay, then if you dig Exuma The Obeah Man, instant religious cults in the musical style of Amon Duul, JA Caesar, Karuna Khyal/Brast Burn and the Valley of Ashes crew led by stoned and shamanized backwoodsmen on a Jim Morrison fixation, get your sorry (but psychedelic) ass over to www​.23productions​.net, where the purchase of a copy of Zodiac Mountain’s LAKE WINNEBAGO will no doubt be essential. Bringing down organised religion never felt this good! And this Zodiac Mountain album is one catchy bastard of a release, which is why naked Godless teens are right now making their way to Zodiac’s temporary tarpaulin village as I write. Finally, after many years of listening to the tripped out free-sounds of Primordial Undermind, it’s wonderful news to be able to report that guitarist Eric Arn’s superb free ensemble has come up with an all-time career high with LOSS OF EFFECT, on the Strange Attractors label. Replete with thunderous bowed contra bass and bass clarinet from long-termers Joe Volpe and Otis Cleveland, then further overlaid with Vanessa Arn’s FX and electronics, this kind of underworldy free-rock music should be available on prescription to all those poetic souls suffering from an overload of city dweller background noise. The Undermind is a kind of direct descendant of the big late ‘60s electronics-powered post-psychedelic ensembles such as Fifty Foot Hose, but much much better. Score this jewel of a motherfucker at www​.strange​-attractors​.com, and big congratulations on this remarkable album. I’ve also received an excellent sleeveless CD‑R from a duo called Kabalist, whom we’d be interested in releasing on Fuck Off & Di. Gentlemen, if you’re out there, please get in touch.

To conclude, I’d just like to comment that my own new album YOU GOTTA PROBLEM WITH ME will follow the same 2CD format as my recent albums CITIZEN CAIN’D and DARK ORGASM. I should also note that the next Universal Julian Cope re-issue will be a deluxe 2CD edition of PEGGY SUICIDE., which should arrive sometime in late Spring. Like JEHOVAHKILL, this record was originally released on double vinyl in the very early ‘90s, and there’s enough (nay, shitloads) of unreleased extra material, EPs tracks and pre-RITE grooves to warrant including the second CD. However, as SAINT JULIAN, FRIED and WORLD SHUT YOUR MOUTH were all of the then-industry-standard 40-minutes in length, these three will not be getting the ‘deluxe’ treatment.

Love Reign Upon Y’all,

JULIAN (Lord Yatesbury)