From: owner-idealcopy-digest@smoe.org (idealcopy-digest) To: idealcopy-digest@smoe.org Subject: idealcopy-digest V5 #376 Reply-To: idealcopy@smoe.org Sender: owner-idealcopy-digest@smoe.org Errors-To: owner-idealcopy-digest@smoe.org Precedence: bulk idealcopy-digest Wednesday, November 6 2002 Volume 05 : Number 376 Today's Subjects: ----------------- RE: [idealcopy] Tip for Nana pt.1.2 [Alistair Tear Subject: RE: [idealcopy] Tip for Nana pt.1.2 And what's wrong about attacking students Robert? A > yeah, he comes off with a good one now and again (when he's > not busy spouting > off conspiracy theories about government manufactured common colds or > attacking Tim, students, or me) > > RL > ************************************************************************* The contents of the e-mail and any transmitted files are confidential and intended solely for the use of the individual or entity to whom they are addressed. Transport for London Street Management hereby excludes any warranty and any liability as to the quality or accuracy of the contents of this e-mail and any attached transmitted files. If you are not the intended recipient, be advised that you have received this e-mail in error and that any use, dissemination, forwarding, printing or copying of this e-mail is strictly prohibited. If you have received this e-mail in error please notify postmaster@Streetmanagement.org.uk. This footnote also confirms that this email message has been swept for the presence of computer viruses. ************************************************************************* ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 6 Nov 2002 02:48:38 -0800 (PST) From: Ari Britt Subject: [idealcopy] Fwd:O.T WILCO Live from St. Louis this Saturday update Wilco World wrote:To: luvjazzz@yahoo.com From: Wilco World Subject: WILCO Live from St. Louis this Saturday Date: Mon, 04 Nov 2002 14:08:20 -0700 As the last tour of the year winds down, we'd like to thank you for all of your support -- it's been Wilcos best year ever. In keeping with that theme, we're going to do another live webcast of the band's next to last show of the year, this Saturday from the Pageant in St. Louis. It will again be streamed in MPEG4/AAC Audio, which you will need Quicktime 6 to listen to (QuickTime6 is a free download available at http://apple.com/quicktime/download). The webcast will be audio only but it should work and sound great even on a 56k dial-up. We'd like to thank our friends on the QuickTime team for helping make these webcasts possible. In other news: the highly anticipated double vinyl of "YHF" is finally available via wilcoworld as well as at better record stores everywhere. It was direct metal mastered at Abbey Road Studios in London, pressed on high quality 180 gram vinyl, and packaged in a beautiful full-color gatefold sleeve and dedicated inner-sleeves with lyrics. After a nice, long break for the holidays, the band will be off to New Zealand and Australia in January for the Big Day Out Festival as well as some additional dates to be announced later including, we hope, a gig in Tokyo in February. In the meantime, have a great and safe holiday season. And, attention Americans: please don't forget to vote tomorrow (Tuesday November 5). Can you imagine what a different place this would be if young people got out in anything like the numbers of their elders? Groovy times and we'll see you next year. Wilco HQ Update your profile or unsubscribe here. Delivered by Topica Email Publisher HotJobs - Search new jobs daily now ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 4 Nov 2002 19:29:37 -0800 From: jeffhall01@earthlink.net Subject: Re: [idealcopy] Wire live CD, RLYL > > >>There's a CD listed on eBay "Wire live at the Metro / Chicago 10th May >> 2000". Anybody have this / comments other than eBay's listing? << > >It's a CDR, possibly a burn from the streaming a/v of that concert that you >can find on the net. If you have a broadband connection you can make your own >copy ;-) > Mark Subpar video mic sound quality, but a tasty version of Forty Versions. http://www.supersphere.com/Club/NoisePop/ Anyone else notice how well Wire and Red Lorry Yellow Lorry go together? RLYL songs like "Generation," "Chance" and "Spinning Round" go well with Wire songs like "Germ Ship," "Read And Burn" and "I Don't Understand". Jeff ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 5 Nov 2002 19:08:06 EST From: MarkBursa@aol.com Subject: Re: [idealcopy] Dirty Daydream Sex Goo (Kill Yr Whitey Jet Set Sister) > >>One question: anyone know what happened to the Steve Albini-recorded live > set from the last American tour?<< > Deemed unsuitable for release I believe. It was recorded as a straight run-through with minimal overdubs in Albini's studio. I guess you might see it and/or some of the stuff recorded at the Garage in May 2000 at a later date. But not while Wire are making new music... Mark ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 06 Nov 2002 15:00:54 +0000 From: "ian.s. jackson" Subject: Re: [idealcopy] Wire live CD, RLYL >Subject: Re: [idealcopy] Wire live CD, RLYL wow...had to do a double-take there... read the subject as 'Wire live CD, RHYL'...!! thought maybe KeithA might have a burn of that one... (note for non-UK listees...RHYL = tatty little (Welsh) seaside town...) ian.s.j. _________________________________________________________________ The new MSN 8: smart spam protection and 2 months FREE* http://join.msn.com/?page=features/junkmail ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 6 Nov 2002 15:23:10 -0000 From: Alistair Tear Subject: [idealcopy] here we go So, that's it...I'm outa here till next week... off to Antwerp tomorrow so, to all IC-ers heading for Brighton, Amsterdam Groningen...wherever have a jolly good time :--) later A ************************************************************************* The contents of the e-mail and any transmitted files are confidential and intended solely for the use of the individual or entity to whom they are addressed. Transport for London Street Management hereby excludes any warranty and any liability as to the quality or accuracy of the contents of this e-mail and any attached transmitted files. If you are not the intended recipient, be advised that you have received this e-mail in error and that any use, dissemination, forwarding, printing or copying of this e-mail is strictly prohibited. If you have received this e-mail in error please notify postmaster@Streetmanagement.org.uk. This footnote also confirms that this email message has been swept for the presence of computer viruses. ************************************************************************* ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 6 Nov 2002 17:47:30 -0000 From: "Keith Astbury" Subject: Re: [idealcopy] Re:Brighton gig - meeting up > I suggest meeting at the Bristol Bar, on the corner of Paston place with the > seafront (Marine Parade). > I actually won't be able to make it until 8.15 or 8.30... So what time is everyone meeting? And how do we recognise each other? I'd wear my feather boa but it's in the wash ; ) Do we sing Dot Dash? Any suggestions... Keith (*Really* looking forward to it!) ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 6 Nov 2002 17:55:29 -0000 From: "Keith Astbury" Subject: Re: [idealcopy] Wire live CD, RLYL > >Subject: Re: [idealcopy] Wire live CD, RLYL > > wow...had to do a double-take there... > > read the subject as 'Wire live CD, RHYL'...!! hahaha. me too!!! Thought I was seeing things. And I was! still if the boys are reading there's a very nice theatre there now that the likes of Hawkwind, Ian Hunter and....Harry Hill have performed at. They'd be very welcome to pop in for a cup of tea on their way back to the M6 ; ) Keith ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 6 Nov 2002 18:21:04 -0000 From: "DAVID HEALE" Subject: [idealcopy] Mr astbury and co. hey you guy's going to brighton... good luck you lot going to Brighton my suggestion for how do you recognise each other.... is wear your "little pink flags" which should fit in nicely with gay ambience of BRIGHTON CRIKEY I'M JUST JEALOUS really.... any of you so n so's going to record the event for prosperity?? have fun... I'm the band will be "cracking" cheers David in Cornwall ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 6 Nov 2002 13:47:02 EST From: MarkBursa@aol.com Subject: Re: [idealcopy] Re:Brighton gig - meeting up << So what time is everyone meeting? And how do we recognise each other? I'd wear my feather boa but it's in the wash ; ) >> Easiest way.... Take your mobile and call this number when you get there 0781 3320044 Mark ;-) ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 6 Nov 2002 13:52:17 EST From: CHRISWIRE@aol.com Subject: Re: [idealcopy] Re:Brighton gig - meeting up In a message dated 06/11/2002 18:48:13 GMT Standard Time, MarkBursa@aol.com writes: > > Take your mobile and call this number when you get there > > 0781 3320044 > > Mark ;-) > What would we do without The Golden Anorak ? Chris ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 06 Nov 2002 18:58:43 +0000 From: "John Roberts" Subject: Re: [idealcopy] Wire live CD, RLYL According to Kevin's book Wire have never played North Wales (surprise, surprise). They have played South Wales: Newport twice and possibly once in Swansea. Nearest to Rhyl would be Chester in 1979. My partner is actually from Rhyl. Can't for the life of me think of anyone of any note who has played there other than the occasional c n w performance and The Alarm. Did manage to see Half Man Half Biscuit play down the road in Llandudno a few years ago though. Rhyl's great anyway. Cheapest smack in the UK. Cheers John http://www.captive.co.uk/bocca/ >From: "ian.s. jackson" >To: idealcopy@smoe.org >Subject: Re: [idealcopy] Wire live CD, RLYL >Date: Wed, 06 Nov 2002 15:00:54 +0000 > >>Subject: Re: [idealcopy] Wire live CD, RLYL > >wow...had to do a double-take there... > >read the subject as 'Wire live CD, RHYL'...!! > >thought maybe KeithA might have a burn of that one... > >(note for non-UK listees...RHYL = tatty little (Welsh) seaside town...) > >ian.s.j. > >_________________________________________________________________ >The new MSN 8: smart spam protection and 2 months FREE* >http://join.msn.com/?page=features/junkmail _________________________________________________________________ Add photos to your messages with MSN 8. Get 2 months FREE*. http://join.msn.com/?page=features/featuredemail ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 4 Nov 2002 22:26:40 -0000 From: "DAVID HEALE" Subject: [idealcopy] bob cobbing - tributes// re post from a week back... cheers david in cornwall AMRA IMPRINT SOME TRIBUTES TO BOB COBBING ==================================================== [for photos of Bob and additional information, use this link to Tom Raworth's website and Clive Fencott's website] [through to some longer tributes from Maggie O'Sullivan, Peter Finch, Bill Griffiths, Lawrence Upton - and poems in memoriam by Ira Lightman and Allen Fisher] [to add your tribute to Bob, e-mail Bill here] from Anselm Hollo Bon voyage, Bob -- you extraordinary cultural worker, creator of an oasis, no, a great plurality of oases in what otherwise could have been a rather grim landscape ... I feel very lucky to have seen and spent a little time with Bob and Jennifer in 1998, after a hiatus of what? at least thirty years -- and to have found them quite unchanged in terms of their incredible energy, enthusiasm, openness and kindness: an experience I will cherish to the end of my days. Tom Raworth's memory of our first encounter with Bob's exhilarating odes and hymns to Homo Ludens is likewise one I am happy to share with all of you friends in the Isles: we were lucky to have Captain Cobbing aboard in the 20th century. ==================================================== from Tony Baker: I'd had word that Bob was ill but hadn't managed to discover how seriously before you wrote to say he'd gone. Truly a loss. I had few enough direct contacts with him, mostly I suppose because I was only in London for a brief time in the early 80s and he felt very much someone you knew by his presence rather than by, say, his correspondence. For all I know he didn't write letters - at any rate his business seemed so essentially active that he probably had little time or disposition for indirect contacts. I don't know. But I do know how much his energies meant for decades of people-- how much those energies lent authenticity to all sorts of work that might never otherwise have found its place. And how indiscriminately generous he was with them. He was willing to believe in people, to trust whatever they found to offer, without hedging it round with the sorts of stuff that a 'literary' world would impose, consciously or unconsciously, as judgement. That was, in the best sense, a great kindness. I think Bob may have been the subject of the only piece of journalism I remember doing, and I recall two things about 89A when we met there to talk: one was the phenomenal heaps of mimeo-ed paper in toppling wrecks in every corner, the other was a lovely surreal object in the entranceway, some taps made out of running shoes (?).* & I remember him, his capacity to listen and when you stopped that catching of the breath with his mouth slightly open and his eyebrows lifting with a sort of surprise; and you knew, whatever he said in response, it would be a confirmation and an opening, a gentle 'ah yes' as if every thought might be a new thought or at least was worth weighing. Well I shall miss him-- miss knowing that he's there. I never thought Eric was indestructible & indeed imagined, perhaps hoped, when eventually he died - which was far younger than it should have been - he would crash like a computer, extinguished with all the files open, so that he'd finish with the same definite energies he brought to everything else. Bob I suppose I simply didn't imagine was really mortal. He was there, like the pavements. * in fact an installation on 'tap dancing' by Jennifer Pike, Bob's wife and collaborator in many performance projects - ed. ==================================================== from Tom Raworth Very sorry to hear of Bob's death: I knew he'd gone into intensive care, but no more. How fast time has gone... the first time I met Bob was in early 1961... went out somewhere in East Finchley, with Anselm Hollo... Bob and a man called John Rowan were performing... I remember it as being in a sense before Bob started to do things himself... he was reading other people's work... he read some poems of Ginsberg's, did Kenneth Koch's '...and then there was LUNCH!' piece. It'll be interesting to see what the newspapers make of it all; whether they'll see him for the central cultural figure he was, both in his own work, and in the generosity of the Writers' Forum series over the decades. Quieter world... ==================================================== from mIEKAL aND (Wisconsin): cibbibbingbob lives in alliteration cobbiobbiobbiobbiobbubbongbongbub cobob cobbincobbincob cob cobb cobb bingbob bob cobbibob cobbibob cobbb cobbb cobbbob cobbinbbinbbinb cobbinb cobbibob cob cobbinbob cb cb cob bob ob cobbibi cob cobbinniingbob cobbibi cobbinb cobbinb cob cobbinbob bob b cobb cobbicobbicob cob cobbibob cobbinbob cob cob cobbinnngbob ob cobbinbbinbbingbob cob cobb cobbbb cob cobbincobbincobbinbob cobbinbob cobbinncobbi cobbicobbicobbinbbinbbin cobbin cooobbibicibbub cibbinobbinobbongbub cibbincibbinbub cib cibbinbbinbbongbub cib cibbinb cibbinb cibbb cibbibbibbongbub cibbiobbiobbongbub cib cib cib cibbin cibbin cibbinnb cibbib cib cibbcibbb bub cobbincobbincobbinb cobbinbob cobbcobb cobbibob cobbinbbinbbingbob cobb cobb cobbinbinbingbob cobbinobbinobbinbbin co cobbininingbob cobbinbob cobbinobbinobbingbob bingbob cobbininobbobbibob cobbinbin cb cb cobob cobbiiobbbob cooobbingbob cbob cbob cobbbobob cobbi cobbibibob cob cobbbob cobbinnbob cobbibbibbingbob cobbibi bingbob cobbbobobbinbob cobbbob cob cobbin cobbin cibbiobbiobbcibbcibbiiingbub cib bongbub cibbbbbub cibbinbbinbbicibbi cibbinbub cibbi cibbi cibbinbinbininingbub cibbinbub cibbin cibbin bongbub cibbinin cibbbongbubbongbub cib cibbibub cibbinbbinbobbinbbinbbbob cobbinobbongbub cooobbongbub cibbinbbincibub cibbiningbub cibbi cibbi cobbinbub cibbin cibbininingbub cibbicib cob cibbin cibbiiingbub cbub coooobbongbub cooobbongbub cibbiobbiobbiob cibbibbingbob obongbub cibbb cibbb cobbinbicibbicibbbbb cibbb cibbb ==================================================== from Vincent Barras (organiser of Poesie Sonore festival, Geneva): dear tom thank you for the news, even if sad. difficult years indeed, for poetry: lax, zurbrugg, and now bob cobbing. he came at the festival in geneva nine years ago, and was great. and i like very much his continual inventivity and energy very much... [forwarded by Tom Raworth] ==================================================== from Connie Pickard I can't remember a time when I was not aware of Bob Cobbing . With a name like that he had to be a sound poet. I remember big readings for a big voice in places like the Round House in the seventies and the students ballroom up here during the Miners Strike of 1972. I remember visiting his garden and singing a lot. I remember we sang all night long when he stayed with us in this flat in Gateshead . The back attic overlooks the Team valley and in the days when the Derwent Haugh Coke works were in full bloom the whole valley was lit up like a John Martin painting and we sang these Tibetan chants over the roof tops. It is strange that on Thursday I met David Hopkins at the Baltic and we were talking about that great reading he did with Bob in the mid-nineties in the Tower. They worked together like a charm you would think they had worked together everyday of every week of their lives, yet they had not seen each other in years. It was just that immediate rapport and mind expansion. I remember Bob getting off the bus in Gallowgate in his sandals (mid winter - the bus was late but we were just in time for the reading) and an immediate plunge in to the reading. Totally into the moment. Edwin Morgan read around about the same time and we used that wonderful poem for the flier: moan red wing... ==================================================== from Sean Bonney: I first met Bob Cobbing in 1998, about a week after I moved to London, and he totally shattered the ways in which I had previously looked at poetry, and left his indelible mark on my own practice. I'll never forget that first workshop I attended, Bob staring at me from across the room as he and Lawrence performed the first soundtext piece I'd ever seen. There are too many memories to list . . . upstairs at the Victoria, Bob improvising a solo on an old chest of drawers . . . the time at Churchills, where the landlord had forgotten to bring the key for the upstairs room, and so Bob declared that we would hold the workshop in the downstairs bar - the triumphant gleam in his eye as he roared "we are in session" . . . a quieter memory of his reading from the linear collection "Life, the Universe and Everything", one of my favourite of his books . . . the euphoria of the three day performance to mark the completion of "Domestic Ambient Noise" . . . his laughter . . . the advice he gave me on soundtext performance that "a couple of glasses of whiskey usually does the trick" . . . Bob provided a real sense of community that enabled me to find my way in poetry. Even though I'd been writing and publishing for a few years beforehand, I count my meeting with Bob as the beginning of my real development as a poet. I hope that he was able to get some satisfaction from the fact that at the last workshop he gave, the majority of the people in the room were relatively young. The unique atmosphere of the workshops - so intense, but still relaxed - continued to be a valuable, vital school for poets: Bob's practice, as a poet, a publisher, and as such a generous source of encouragement and friendship, will always be exemplary for me. I'll miss him - and in my own way, continue. ==================================================== from Ken Edwards: Woody Allen said he didn't want to achieve immortality through his work; he wanted to achieve it by not dying. I always thought & hoped Bob Cobbing would be the first to realise this ambition. Some random memories: Bob stalking the perimeter of the Voice Box in the Royal Festival Hall, roaring his interpretations of the paintings on the walls; putting on events at the old London Musicians Collective premises in former railway buildings in Camden, instructing us to "do something you wouldn't normally do" (I remember playing the violin with a toothbrush at one point, and performing a poem by Charles Bernstein); his kindness when he published two small Writers Forum pamphlets by me (early 80s); his virtuoso performance in avoiding being drawn into theoretical discussion during the taped "Saturday Course" in that farmhouse in Orpington in the late 70s, and his insistence on the living moment of creativity; the shock of seeing him in a wheelchair at the V&A earlier this year; the marvellously crammed house in Petherton Road; the zeal with which he continued to proselytise and work for the Association of Little Presses, for which I was newsletter editor for a while; and through the whole period I knew him, those sandals. But now the silence is deafening. ==================================================== from Cris Cheek I first met Bob in 1975, after a Hedben Bridge Arvon sojourn with Mottram and Nuttall (the former advising me to write on unruled paper, the latter blowing his cornet out of the Arvon farmhouse windows, there were drop in visits from Ulli Freer then McCarthy, Paul Buck, maybe Glenda George), I took a bus towards London with Bill Griffiths who invited me to check out the weekly experimental poetry workshops (that's what they were billed in the published programme as) at the Poetry Society in Earls Court Square. It was there, for good measure over the next couple of weeks that I first met Allen Fisher, Sean O'Huigin, Bob Cobbing, Lawrence Upton, Clive (PC) Fencott, Jeremy Adler and many others. It was a welcoming gathering and the noises that were made there were issued without undue judgement. That is, although conversation after sessions was robust and broadly discursive, these poets were basically positive and encouraging. There was a wide range of experience and references and license to tap into. My overall apprehension was one of generosity being put to the use of creating of space for others to be creative in, and that has made a lasting impression. But I digress. One of the aspects of dominant poetry that was being openly tested at these workshops was the unitary voice of epiphanic glibness. The lyric 'I' was countered by, or mobilised through, polyphonic compositions or at the very least multi-tasking attentions. Writing was read by more than voice, frequently two or three voices (or more), reading in close interaction, with syncopation, with overlapping stresses, with partial erasure, foreground and background scripting, staccato narrative assemblages and dialogistic interjection. Texts were arraigned across the floor or cascading from the ceiling or fluttering loose in the hand. Listening was at a premium. Spatial placement of sound became an area of investigation and spatiality of paginated notations were consequent. Interruption was delicious, rather than screened out; I referred to 'exquisite interference'. A dynamic interchange between improvisation and composition often presented itself. Poems were thereby explored through their out loud readings as being subjects for revision, a direct result of having been 'aired'. A poem was a moment between. Between the body of giver and the body of receiver, belonging to neither one nor the other, a signal, even secretion, of mobilised liminal exchange. Bob was 55 and i was a young punk turning 20. One day an offset litho was delivered to Earls Court Square and Bob, together with others of the regular staff there were stood around it in the wide corridors. "Lovely machine", or some such he said, very excited, then turning sort of in the direction of anyone who'd listen followed with something along the lines of "pity nobody knows how to use it". "I do" i said, blagging with brashness. Bob took a long look at me and smiled a little. The result was that i spent the upcoming weekend downstairs with manuals trying to get ink to stay on a page. Bill Griffiths was certainly in on this act and together with Bob we set about producing an issue of Poetry Review. We were very much learning as we went. The issue has its own charm. We got better at it and had a lot of practice as that open printshop was launching about 40 books each month at its height of activity in 1976-77. Poets and publishers would arrive and decide on the means of production they wanted to explore. Between us all (Lawrence was in and out, also running the bookshop) we got a lot of presses up and running. Working alongside Sinclair Beiles, Neil Oram, Alaric Sumner, Richard Tabor all spring to mind for various reasons. But an unbelievable number of poets visited and admired the facilities there. Bob was a motivating energy through all this activity. After all the core of the start-up equipment had been his. We laughed a lot. He'd overprint a page to test placement of a text and then immediately spot its potential for further treatments into a poem. So the means of production and the means for processing further production were glued into a creative, symbiotic, organic roll. Between 1975-78 we probably saw each other more days in each week than not. Things changed in the wake of Arts Council coup. Maybe it was more of a putsch - that being a push of imitative origin. Whatever, the contacts became more occasional. Mostly Bob sustained continuity through his extraordinary energy as publisher and organiser of the open workshop. When I was still in London i'd go as often as i could - although the Saturday afternoons often clashed with other events and organisations. But going to the workshop always felt bizarrely like seeing old friends and needing no introduction. The workshop was a school of Bob's encouragement, of pretty well all and sundry and more often than not the occurrence of exceptional poetic enquiry. The biggest thing about Bob Cobbing is his generosity. You see i still can't type 'was'. He was prolific in publishing others and in celebrating others. When bp nicol died he and I and Bill got together for a full public evening celebrating bp's work. There was no question of not responding immediately and doing so through the poetry. He was most noticeable by his absence at readings by other poets. He was nearly always just there, listening - - to whatever anybody was up to with poetry. He cared passionately about creativity and the human spirit. I'll miss his ebullience, even in the face of a body that could no longer contain the impacts of a lifetime's energies. A couple of years ago i saw him for the first time in a few months and asked how he was. "Not so bad", he said "except my eyes have been playing up. I was going up the stairs out of the basement [he kept his photocopier down there] and all the lights went out." "What did you do?" i asked. "Well, i wasn't sure if there was a power cut or if I'd just gone blind", he answered with a chuckle. "So, what did you do?" i repeated. "Well, I thought maybe i should stay still there for a bit. I didn't know whether to go on up or to go back down. So I stood there in the dark. All i could think was damn, if my eyes have finally gone I won't be able to finish that book i was just working on." nobody else at all like him ==================================================== from Ross Rowan thanks bob for believing and encouraging,for getting us up there, to rant and chant, and for printing what others probably would'nt. mighty griffen ascending... ==================================================== from Harry Gilonis (and Chambers DIctionary) bo, boh: drive geese and frighten children Boanerges: noisy or shouting thunder board: pasted together in books, pike used in defending boast: simple expression (borrowed from English) boat: of the heron that swims with a ship boatswain: transferred to the whistle Bob: ==================================================== from Valerie Soar: I think I have probably known Bob since around the mid 70's, and even though I am only on the edges of this field, there are many memories over the odd 25 years - Bob's chair at readings, reserved by a plastic carrier bag containing books for the book stall - the days he would spend manning the Writers Forum stall at small press fairs, taking the visitors there by surprise with the occasional verbal performance. A performance at Robert Sheppard's Smallest Poetry Festival (somewhere in darkest Tooting) and how this somewhat elderly, not very tall and slightly rotund man became absolutely beautiful in vision and sound ! And, like others have said, Bob's overwhelming generosity with his time and encouragement. At the time of Eric Mottram's 70th Birthday (December 1994), Bob produced a trubute book: a motley for mottram - he gave so much time to my offering, and the various ways he could print it and if I didn't like any of those, he would find some other ways - he couldn't have paid more attention and given more time to what I had produced than he would for the most experienced and "reckoned" poet. Thank you Bob - the world will be a less colourful place without you ! ==================================================== from David Ball: "In memoriam," really, for a little booklet his Writer's Forum did in 1963: We Just Wanted to Tell You. Half poems by Anselm Hollo, half mine. It was my first book of poems--I think it was Anselm's first in English, too, though he had published in Finnish before that--and it meant a lot to me. A jazzy, simple, carnivalesque cover, the kind of thing that would probably be called pop-art today. I loved it. I was terribly sorry to hear that the man who took a chance on a couple of little-known poets (unknown, in my case) no longer exists. Requiescat in pace. David Ball ==================================================== from Mike Weller Thanks for letting me know of Bob's death. I don't visit the poetry urls very often and I am only in regular e-contact with you. Jennifer sent a wf workshop notice out last week with news of Bob's hospitalisation. Things didn't look good. I was a regular visitor to the Petherton Road print shop in the last dozen years. I am a product of the old alp, and a relative newcomer to writers forum imprint and the performance workshops. But I felt proud and privileged that Bob invited me to join the word score utterance authors a few years back. He did three individual wf books of mine too. Stem Harvest may be one of the last (if not the last) wf book he personally printed. It may be overlooked in the 'official' poets' tributes that Bob offered his artisan experience, means of production, and multiple skills to printed works he was not directly committed to. As well as myself there are probably dozens of unsung writers grateful for New River Project. In the last two months Bob had New Rivered the entire Scribblers Editions collection for the South London writers group, as well as my visual Beowulf. Whatever alternative means I find for continuing this work and other editions - it ain't gonna be the same. Bob had got a bit physically frail but he was still burning mental energy. He needed two sticks to get him about in the last year and malt whisky, "Scottish, Irish or Japanese?" was on generous offer after a print job. "When's the next job?" was a mantra. 'I only really noticed a worrying change at the September 14 wf workshop - first of the new autumn series at The Sussex' - when a pale Bob didn't perform anything... ==================================================== from Peter Hodgkiss: Several recollections: he was not always sockless - in the depths of winter I remember mustard coloured furry socks; also blue feet when sockless. The scotch egg episode at the Poetry Society when Eddie Linden fled howling from the downstairs bar pursued by said sausage encased missile hurled by irate bearded fiend. Wood's 100 percent Navy Rum in some pub somewhere - fuzzy memory this one. Filibustering at the Poetry Society council meetings in the face of hatred (literally) of the old guard - that voice, stentorian, determined. He was democratic in the best sense of the word - if anyone appeared serious of intent they had their say. A good man, and a fierce bugger to boot... ==================================================== from Sean O Huigin you've gone to teach the thunder how to roar and rumble. to teach the lightning & the clouds the way to dance. thanks Bob for the 70s, the learnings & the teachings, the people & the whiskey sups. so many people owe so much to you, so bill your jubobe, bob your jubile, your mark remains for us to turn to sound ==================================================== from David Hopkins : Bob Cobbing was utterly unique. I came to him primarily as a performer. In the early 1980s I had worked with a performance group called Zip Dinner - we were very into the Beats, Dada, Black Mountain etc. We were based, improbably, in Cheltenham. We did a series of gigs in London and elsewhere, published a few issues of a punkish poetry mag but felt a bit uninspired by what little seemed to be happening and eventually folded. By Late 1984 I had moved to London. I went to see Bob at the Sussex pub - he did a 'Nostalgia Performance' of the ABC of Sound' and other stuff. Suddenly I realised that something definitely was going on, and that the guy had been doing it for years. He was a veteran. It was a total inspiration. Early the next year I asked him, out of the blue, to accompany me and Chris Cardale ( formerly involved with Apples and Snakes ) at a gig at the Fountain pub in Camden. I couldnt believe it when he turned up. He didnt bother asking questions, didnt ask who I knew ( after all, I hardly knew anyone on the London 'poetry scene'), we just chanted Dada stuff together (I was just beginning to do my own reinterpretations of Ball etc) and had a totally stimulating time. After that we did several other things. There was a reading at Apples and Snakes ( when it was in Farringdon ) when we just growled and snarled and roared from one of his visual scripts ( the words were 'Ground Rock Salt' ) for what seemed like an hour. Afterwards we 'performed' a beer mat. Once I invited him to do something with me at a ( post - ) punk club in darkest Romford. I was performing fairly regularly there with a group of local musicians as 'The Dave Hopkins Orchestra'. Bob turned up with his wife Jennifer. He was wearing an amazingly bright shirt, a very wide-lapelled jacket and the famous sandles. When he went on stage infront of seventy-or-so assorted punksgothsetc I was beginning to think it was all a big mistake. Here was this ageing, greyhaird Hobbit-like man infront of a seething mass of spiky-haired 18-20 year olds. What's more they had started to boo and chant things at him in a very threatening way. Gradually I realised that he was actively encouraging the noise, in fact getting off on it. Slowly, he started to orchestrate the crowd, getting one section to bellow louder than the other, or improvising sounds around theirs. By the time he was finished, he had won them over completely. It was an object-lesson in improvisation. Bob was totally open. He had little to gain from these collaborations - there was little money involved and they were hardly in the public spotlight - but he gave everything to them. I remember him coming all the way over to Essex University to chant and dance infront of a rather unispired poetry group that I was trying to energise. The last gig we did was at Morden Tower around 1992. Our rapport by then was quite instinctive. We performed Ball simultaneously, chanted my stuff, chanted his, scrambled my stuff, scrambled his, ended up with the entire audience chanting/singing gloriously. It was affirmative, uninhibited, unshackled, unselfconscious, celebratory. And I have experienced nothing like it since. Up in Edinburgh later in the 90s, when I had started teaching up there, I asked him once to come up for an alternative student-run arts festival that was taking place. Unfortunately there was a bus strike. At the last minute he had to pull out. 'Its up to you now...' was the last thing he said to me on the phone. And of course it is up to a great many of us now. Poetry is a lonely enough occupation, and even if you do it for an audience regularly you ask yourself whywhywhy all the time - but Bob made you feel like you were part of a universe of sensibility. Forget aesthetics and who-influenced-who. His secret, like the Dadas, was that he knew how to live. ==================================================== from Will Rowe: Bob gave his time without distractions to poetry and was always available to anyone with a serious interest. He wasn't a celeb. I first heard him perform in 1968. The expanded possibilities of language stayed with me. I was not close to him personally, but to know he was there became crucial. Hard to think of anyone with a more various art, more generously given. ==================================================== from Ric Caddel I'll miss his constant energies and enthusiasms and warmth, which one thought should go on for ever. I learnt a tremendous lot, about sound / poetry, and about the bloodymindedness required to sustain same, from him. In death, as in life, I'll think of him with awe and affection. And here's a poem reprinted from Sweet Cicely [1983]: For Bob Cobbing, on the Occasion of the 15th Birthday of the A.L.P. originally a garden escape no other hydraulic system in the age of the cigarette can withstand its nectar is sought by bees through all the rigours of high summer continouous on-site investigation spreads quickly across waste ground without costly lubrication and servicing forming purple patches needed to ensure seeding freely on scorched earth non-stop drilling boring and pumping roaring over the hearts ------------------------------ End of idealcopy-digest V5 #376 *******************************