A wildfire raged for a fourth day through dry grassland to the east of Manchester in the north of England on Wednesday, as Britain sweated through one of its hottest and driest summers on record.
The blaze started on Sunday on Saddleworth Moor, an expanse of hills cloaked in purple heather that is popular with hikers and home to bird species including the endangered golden plover and curlew and the common red grouse. It has since spread over an area of seven square miles, and firefighters have requested help from the military.
“It’s dry as a tinderbox up there,” said Brenda Warrington, leader of Tameside Council at a news briefing in the early afternoon. “A lot of wind is fanning the flames.” She said the situation was very changeable because wind had risen again in the area since the morning. [ . . . ] Continue at NEW YORK TIMES
As Record Store Day returns, we hit the streets on record store crawls around four UK cities with the country’s best new DJs, to find the bricks-and-mortar gems that keep pushing the culture forward
It’s Record Store Day on Saturday, a juggernaut that is still picking up pace in its 11th year, with many exclusive special-edition records released as a way to focus music fans’ attention on bricks and mortar. And now there’s a new way to take it all in: in the US, the Record Store Crawl initiative has been set up to explore the wealth of stores in each city. With RSD looming, we thought this could be a model for a survey of the health of record shops in British cities: so, four writers have gone round four cities with some of the UK’s most exciting new DJs and producers, picking out their ultimate record-shopping routes [ . . . ]
There was no one quite like the Fall’s post-punk poet.
It was announced yesterday that, after a period of ill health last year, Mark E Smith has passed away aged 60. The only constant member of the Fall since he formed the band in 1976, MES (as his name was often abbreviated) was a true original, a glorious one-off who remained closer to the original post-punk brief than anyone else. His passing is another weary reminder of the fading out of a non-conformist era, a time when public life wasn’t dominated by well-connected head-boy types or pop figures whose idea of being edgy is to endorse Jeremy Corbyn in the Guardian.
Indeed, many of us loved MES precisely because he had an in-built bullshit detector alerting him to the pretensions of petit-bourgeois radicals and their strange ideas. The Fall’s 1994 track ‘Middle Class Revolt!’ was a prescient statement on the shifting direction of British culture and politics. His unaffected persona was that of a cranky old factory worker moaning about students and layabouts. It always made for entertaining copy in interviews, and in real life he was no different. Nevertheless, his proletarian belligerence couldn’t entirely hide his autodidacticism and his role as a genuine artist. For a start, the Fall’s name was taken from a 1956 Albert Camus novel, and MES’s reference points were resolutely literary – Marlowe, Nabokov, Ballard, Gogol and Ellison crop up in various ways throughout MES’s song titles and lyrics. The writer Simon Reynolds pointed out that the Fall’s biggest early influence was not punk rock, but a worn out library card. It clearly showed in MES’s dramatic and vivid wordplay manifest throughout his band’s 40-year existence.
As a precocious teenager, MES was first hooked on pivotal Krautrock band Can, with their motorik chug and expansive drum rolls becoming a mainstay of the Fall’s sound. And yet, at the same time, the Fall never really sounded like anyone else. They may have often given the impression of shambolic chaos, but beneath that there was a tightly honed drive and attack which drew on anything from 1950s rockabilly through to the fizz and squall of acid house. The Fall were always a disorientating collage, but one held in check by MES’s pile-driving energy. The result was hypnotic and compelling. Central to this magnetic quality was always MES’s barked, tumbling wordplay that had its own lexicon and codes. Such was the force of MES’s personality that lesser lights were often drafted in by Smith for guest vocal appearances to add grit, menace and humour [ . . . ] Source: Mark E Smith: the last of the non-conformists