Three things

So

There are things I do now, and things I used to do.

1) I used to believe in things. Now I make other people believe in things.

2) I used to do the things I didn’t need to. Now I know that I don’t need, want or have to clean the cheese out of my amplifiers… I can just get my owls to beaver their way into the crannies. Free, PC, environmentally sound outsourcing…

3) I used to know what I was going to say before I began writing. Now I trust that the magical Easter wizard of Babel will guide me through a myriad of analogous obstacles and arrive at some kind of powerful and self referential conclusion…

Believe me, I do.

VB

Vinyl Burns: Vinyl Burns Radio Show 20120410 2018

Visit http://ipad.io/vwO to hear my latest ipadio phonecast

Or listen here:

Vinyl Burns: The Reverend Doctor Vinyl Burns’ Easter Radio Special. #3

The third and final installment in my exciting Easter radio special.

The levels are good, the music is rocking, the everything is cooking and the nothingness is long gone.

Tune in for reals sometime…

VB

Visit http://ipad.io/vny to hear my latest ipadio phonecast

Or listen here:

Vinyl Burns: The Reverend Doctor Vinyl Burns’ Radio Show – Good Friday #2

Hey gang,

Here’s part two of my Easter radio special… Broadcast from my elegantly varnished home studio, i was self producing and I don’t really like technology, so the levels are a bit tricky. You have to really want to hear me, to hear me.

You can find these and more as a podcast on iTunes… Just hunt for me and you should find it ok.

You can also tune in live on radioactive.fm 1am – 3am Sunday mornings, New Zealand time…

Visit http://ipad.io/vnv to hear my latest ipadio phonecast

Or listen here:

Vinyl Burns: A segment from my radio show…

Hey gang,

Here’s a short sample of my radio show, lovingly recreated in my home studio on Easter Friday, also known as “Good Day Egg Day”

I made that up.

Visit http://ipad.io/vlc to hear my latest ipadio phonecast

Or listen here:

Peace out
VB

Corners

Hi there clean freaks

Did you ever notice how it’s the corners of your world that get the dirtiest.

Maybe you like the dirty corners? That’s ok, just don’t sit in the middle of the club trying to get some filth going… Hide it away, kinda.

Maybe you like to live clean, but don’t like to clean things too much. Maybe you’re lazy or just a bit messed up in the scrub and polish department. (that’s polish, not Polish… Most Europeans a way cleaner OR dirtier than the rest of us… They go both ways, but exponentially further than us Americans)

Anyhow…. If you want to feel cleaner that you deserve to be, for Te amount of effort you put in around your “house”, sit in the middle of things for as long as you can. Your problems won’t find you while you’re in plain sight, and I’d they do, well, you probably know what’s coming by then.

So, in closing… A clean corner is the last step to an open everything.

See you next time, peeps.
VB

Top 9 most missed truths this week.

Its been a good couple of weeks, and now there are more weeks coming. They might be good too, but you’ll improve your chances if you know these nine things…

1) Fabreeze is not hairspray
2) Ice-cream cones are not road cones
3) The plague is sometimes an STD
4) The washroom was probably cleaner
5) John Key would still be terrible, even if he was meant to be a clown
6) Good people die in good seats
7) Milk and bacon both last longer than you think
8) Sitting cross legged will make the average person’s left leg numb in (on average) 6.3 minutes.
9) Blonds ARE more fun, but most “blondes” are actually soft ginger.

Good to be in touch again.
VB

Watching Maidens All Over.

Summertime Peeps.

My first memories of this tiny country, New Zealand, involve deep and hot summer days, with the earthy sizzle of an electric barbeque in the wind, and the dim whispy murmur of never ending cricket commentary. 

This excruciating sport, often drip fed to the nation over five days, or sometimes mercifully delivered, under almost parliamentary style urgency, jammed into just one ten hour day.

I never understood it, but it was there… always there.  A constant insectular buzz, wedged between the layers of cicadas and the crunch of the salty dry grass, in a kind of antipodean audio sandwich.

Yes, I had developed a bemused fondness for the sporty ritual, the way that a hungry cat can’t stop watching a vegan eating lentils… It was a long hollow experience, eventually ending in dissatisfaction, and an ulcer.  

Then, I stopped watching this contorted sport which elicits from me such a conflicted range of tortured reptilian responses.   Why?

At some point about 15 years ago, THE MAN decided that it was time for New Zealand to PAY to watch their summer game.  Plenty did, but I, and I’m certain many others, did not. 

[Many years pass without watching cricket]

I watched it again the other day, for the first time in nearly 15 years…  It’s still baffling, and has even fewer fights than I remember.  One thing though, has changed.

New Zealand is bad.

If you know me, you know that I don’t stand for mediocre… so I’m writing this sitting down, out of disgust. (and because I’m eating).

I asked myself…

Why would a snotty 8 year old want to go and stumble around a wicket all day, wearing his Granddad’s manky old sweater-vest and risking getting a face full of broken teeth from that one time when “Fat Knees” Clifford finally connects one of his wild lurches at the ball, and Snotty’s Silly Mid-On reactions are several seconds short of adequate.

Why?  Because he watched the legends of the game on his 1980′s TV set, while his creepy uncle poked the BBQ and tried to do the same to his Grandma.  Snotty lost himself in the fantasy of playing for his country, living and breathing a game that would take him away from his quarter acre purgatory for, sometimes, as long as FIVE DAYS!

Publicly broadcast cricket was the electrically delivered conduit to his golden future.  It was the athletic Cupid of One Day Matchmaking. 

He watched.

He dreamed.

Anyways… enough poetry.  Here’s the thing.

You take something the nation regards as important, make them pay for it, or otherwise discourage them from engaging with it, and there is inevitably a section of society who loose, or never even begin to have an interest in it. 

When that happens, there’s no telling what is lost.

 Are we suffocating the potential greats by charging suburban New Zealand just to inhale a hint of grassy inspiration and crowd soaked anticipation. 

So I have been wondering this week, if the inconsistent and often disappointing  record of our Black Caps over the last decade on the global cricket map, is a direct result of “us” limiting access to the broadcast games, thus reducing the number of inspired players, which in turn limits the pool of professional grade players.  

By removing that constant and inescapable inspirational catalyst, the ever present and deeply powerful, infiltrating soundtrack of the Kiwi summer.  Cricket.

Now, if we were talking about “news” or “the arts”, then sure… whatever…  But this is SPORT! 

Sport keeps us calm, complacent, distracted.    And if we don’t do it well, then I can’t really believe that it’s that important. 

Sport makes us think that sport matters… and conversely, no sport makes us think that “not sport” matters.

I’m pretty sure that now there’s sport back on Prime TV, at least for now, we’ll be hearing a lot less about Occupy and some of that other stuff that, even now, I’m struggling to even remember…

What’s your name again?

VB

Popular Sh*t I have said…

It’s me again, and even again.

 

It seems that my people left the actual content out of this one last time, so here we are again, trying to provide you with the VB you need.  Enjoy it this time.

Yes, writing it up once again and perhaps using a few too few expletives, but that’s just how I slice and dice.

the popularity of the “Sh*t my dad says” meme, encouraged my fans to request that I release some I my own spoken word sh*t.

Given that, as I recently coined the phrase ” I’m Vinyl Burns, and you’re nothing without me”, for an upcoming BBC TV project, it would be downright rude of me not to allow you, my fans, to be all you can possibly be, by giving you a whole lot of me… In your faces.

The beauty of the written word is that you can reread that paragraph as many times as you need, in order to understand what I’m saying, and then love me for it.

So, here’s the first installment of “Sh*t Vinyl Burns says”. Share it around by clicking on the “Share Vinyl Burns around” button, and above all, enjoy.

I don’t have time to say it all, but you can feel the knowledge breaking on your chest!” – Vinyl Burns

Bloop

Dingo Dingo Friends…

That’s an almost completely made up Australian greeting I just nearly invented.

I do a lot of things really really well. And I like to balance that by showing off my frailty in front of all the world, from time to time.

This, right now, is just one of those times.

So, without any further much ado about nothing much, here is a classic Vinyl Burns blooper, from my Sexual Horizons web series. The crew really lost it on this one. It’s an open and transparent window into the backstage world of the Vinyl Burns television empire.

Thanks for watching, and for being here specifically in order to do so.

Mango Mango

Amigo Derché

VB