Author: shaun tenzenmen

Australasian DIY music specialist and practising poet, amongst other things

I don’t understand a word she says, she’s on my side – 23rd June 1994

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Time moves on, ticking by. Stars collide, weather changes.

I get a haircut and finish reading Nick Cave’s ‘And the Ass Saw the Angel’. This book being the reason for my lack of entries over the past two days. That feeling of time running out, that feeling of just another page, egging you on at quarter to the midnight hour (before the football starts). Just another twist of plot to intrigue and entice further inspection. To tease tired eyes onwards.

And now I’m empty of literature – dispensed it all out of my mind as soon as it went in and now in need of another fix. Like a junkie looking for a needle, I was looking through our small book collection. Think I may start on a reread of Hunter S Thompson’s ‘The Great Shark Hunt’.

Football, of course, has kept my brain stimulated and Broni has quested on a fitness regime at the gym and pool while I slob in front of the TV, egging my teams on (whoever they maybe). I won’t bore you with scores, old memory, but see if you can drag up that Italy vs Norway match when Italy’s keeper got sent off and remarkably their coach opted to sacrifice Roberto Baggio (one of the world’s best players) and eventually his gamble paid off.

Much, much more to look forward to on the football front but now I must devote some time to my sweetheart – a companion worthy of my attention. A lover worthy of my desire. I love her and want her and she forgives me all the shit I give her in my way.

Sometimes I don’t understand my way. In fact I don’t think it’s meant for me to understand but for people looking in – for you. I hope you don’t judge me purely on my way – in fact, try not to judge me at all (I’ll try not to judge). You are you, you be your way – that’s okay. I am my way. I think you’re beginning to get my drift.

All’s you need to know, diary friend, is she is special to me,

I could have been like Lou Barlow but I’m more like Ken Barlow – 20th June 1994

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Okay, children of the revelation – no entries for five lots of 24. Here’s why.

Night of the 15th, me and Broni watched the film The Subterraneans – based on the Kerouac novel. In which George Peppard (very fucking young and non cigar chewing) plays the writer and spiels his ‘time’ spiel i.e. “there’s not enough time to watch every football match, kiss every girl, talk to everyone, but I must keep trying” and the mad girl tells him “You writers – you spend so much time writing about things you’ve done at the expense of things you could be doing and trying to write it down oh so right!” This crushed me! Till now anyway.

John-boy lost his voice on Wednesday, to which gave us all great delight in ribbing him as he is normally 1 million words a minute.

And so, The World Cup did start on Friday, much to Broni’s bemusement but we watched first match at Kerry’s (Germany one, Bolivia nil – the Germans are the most boring team to watch and Bolivia did give them a run for awhile). I stayed up to watch Spain versus South Korea and at 2.20am, with 6 minutes to go, decided to call it a night, with Spain two goals up, only to find out next day South Korea scored two cracking goals in six minutes to level it! Spain are also very dull and South Korea played beautiful passing football.

With a barbecue and TV planted outdoors we watched Ireland triumphantly beat Italy one nil and last night (Sunday), Norway vs Mexico in the same group (also one nil). Stayed up for the first half of Cameroon vs Sweden, which was a cracker of a match (One one, half time) Don’t know who won yet!

Broni doesn’t quite share my enthusiasm so I’ve been letting her get some sleep in the full of our single bed and last night I came to bed excited about wedding speeches. And, of course, I must tell you that we’ve ordered some designer wedding rings from a jeweller in Salisbury – the only thing I think I’ll get on my finger – slightly unusual, well, very unusual for wedding bands, mixed coloured golds and non-symmetric. Much nicer then the tack of yer standard high street affairs.

So I dreamt about Lou Barlow instead of Henry Rollins, and sure, I introduced him to my mum! Woke up to the lovely cooing face of my sweetheart. Life is good, life is scary, life is fun, life is love.

(Later) Here I sit, in the summer swelter, thirsty and starved, contemplating my situation. And oh, life is just a series of appointments but I have the energy and enthusiasm to meet every deadline I may have made from myself. Fucking hell, lots of people can’t even get out of their chairs to turn the TV off (I’m no smarter or dumber than them) – it’s just about doing it. And now I know I can deal with this big stress a-coming, just a series of appointments I’ve made, big ones, little ones, it is true, size is not important. These paths I travel are destiny – they are waiting for me to seek them out. I accept the challenge.

On the way home through the ruins I wave to the ghosts far beyond – 15th June 1994

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Romantic summer days are here, away from the rush and push of offices and ungentlemen.

Here today, I am sat in my favourite long wide valley, next to a muddy old excuse for a duckpond. A scattering of houses, barns and farms make up this community that probably hasn’t changed in 100 years. Only thing new here is tarmac and pylons –something we are now anaesthetised to. These are the places of fairytales, fables and folklore. The old crooked fence, the run down barn, birds a-chattering and flapping by. And people – where are they? Lazily making their way to the cows, I bet.

From one reality to another, with a brief sentence respite (this one).

Last night, me and my love dressed up in our rags for another punky party at the Joiners, where we videoed Thirst, The Harries and Broken Toys. I was feeling very unsocial after hurting my back carrying records to and fro and found myself with not much to say to anyone. Did I get my period again so soon? I wonder what it is that brings about this emotional unbalance in me.

And now today – I feel okay! Every morning I wake up bright and chirpy but by afternoon I’m a different difficult kettle of coconuts.

Another visit to the chiropractor today. Fun in the fundus. Go forth amongst men and be civil.

How do you hide from something you have found? – 14th June 1994

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Ah, Sweet summer days are here upon us. And I have the summer madness.

Broni said she was reminded of Australia when she woke up this morning to bright beaming sunshine. She even managed to raise her slender elegance out of bed before I left for work. And by some conniving I’ve managed to get the driving job for the two weeks our driver is off – so this morning I loaded up quickly and by 9 o’clock (Now) I’m sat in the hotness of the morning by the tempting waters of the River Stour, hardly a soul around to disturb my pleasure.

The heat is rising off the land in this long wide valley and the sky melts from grey to blue the higher you go, and then to yellow the nearer the sun. Birds are chattering away their demented messages and butterflies flutter to and fro, a sundance.

Briefly, let me tell you the past few days. At last, a quietish weekend with a short night out to see some of Kerry’s friends at the Avon Causeway to celebrate someone’s birthday (This was Friday). I couldn’t cope with the smoke and incessant chatter – I could not hear a fucking thing anyone was saying. Soon bored (me anyway) we came home.

Saturday I can’t recall at this moment. Let me tell you, my quiet has been erased here by some farmer type teaching his dog to fetch. This he is doing by throwing a dead duck into the river and the dog eagerly jumping in and returning with it. Kinda yuck but strangely normal. Now they’re going, rippling waters the only sign left they’ve been here.

Ah! Saturday me and Broni walked through the park and watched big fish jump and crash in the murky waters. And fluffy cygnets eating bugs while mom and pop hissed at any passers-by. Mad youngsters jump off roofs into bushes, trampoline style their support (and a reminder of my youth – not long gone).

I went to the bone cruncher yesterday for the first time – an odd experience but hopefully worthwhile at the end of this treatment.

Now I must go – one last look around – life can’t get much better than this – once more in the pursuit of happiness. Bye bye.

English summer garden, Colehill – 12th June 1994

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22nd Jan 2024 – These shots are taken from an old camcorder tape. They feel 90s. Watching old music videos from this time, they seem to share a similar lack of clarity that is quite endearing. Like how old video games were better before, when the emphasis was on gameplay instead of display quality.

22nd Jan 2024 – No one ever told me that my glasses were crooked. I was probably still dumb enough to believe that I would have to get my nose fixed for glasses to ever be straight. I only actually started wearing glasses around 1993. It was a big step for me because it felt like there being something defective about my body. I still wanted to be cool and somehow, glasses weren’t cool. 

22nd Jan 2024 – The English summers are made special by the atrocious weather for about 9 months of the year. This cat is Maya.

22nd Jan 2024 – As my mum aged slowly over the years I never really thought much about how her features changed. This picture shows how I mostly visualise her face these days. Mum and Bronwyn in the garden at the back of our house.

22nd Jan 2024 – I was going for the relaxed laid-back, slacker look which would become popular in the 90s. I was certainly feeling good at this time as I knew I was escaping life in England and a job that I had exhausted my options in. The future lay ahead. If it was scary, I had some self-belief and I somewhat put all my trust in Bronwyn and all she had told me about Australia.

It begins with a blessing and ends with a curse – 9th/10th June 1994

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9/6/94

Oh aching extremities, busted bones!

10/6/94

Ha ha! Yesterday’s entry was all I could manage and I even added the exclamation mark today!

The reason for those aches and pains was a long session of tennis with Snowy in which I came back to win the first set 6-4 from 3-0 down. Second set, I got trounced 6-0 and third set I finally won 9-7, two and a quarter hours later, amid beautiful evening sunshine and blowy wind.

The object really was to get some exercise so I guess that worked quite well though here I am now, two days later with sore muscles in places I never knew existed. I went to occupational therapy for my wrist the morning before playing tennis and the guy there looked in despair at me and my poor wrist when I mentioned playing tennis! He discharged me and said he could do no more for me!

Still – day after I visited a chiropractor who thinks all my wrist problems could be the result of a back problem affecting my right side upper body. So convinced was this guy that he could help me that I’ve opted for some treatment by this bone cruncher.

Each night me and my Broni have been too exhausted to even think – we work so fucking hard and have so many things to think about at the moment that we’re in danger of total mental collapse. Needless to say, little arguments arise out of our frustrated situation and it’s making September 27th beg to come sooner!

Last Friday I went to the Joiners to see Herb Garden, MTA and Frankenslag. I had a cool chat with Karl, Herb Garden’s singer, about Australia amongst other things. I seem to have this habit of bringing up the subject whoever I talk to – it’s interesting to get people’s reactions. Most are in favour – saying they’d like to go too – only one guy said it was bad and couldn’t understand why I want to leave such a good country! Yeah right! I couldn’t believe it either!

Me and Broni talked some today about our situation and we came up with half a plan for Australia. We hope (to be able to afford) that I can stay home and write, maybe do some part-time work while Broni works a well-paid job. Then, when inevitably, little babies come along, she can do her work privately and part-time and share our responsibilities to little Bubka and Quarrychase! I hope to make some quick financial gains to give me a confidence boost and to make it seem worthwhile. I know we’ll make it all work one way or another.

Well, here’s to a quiet weekend after last weekend’s oddness – went to Blandford to see Urban Strawberry Lunch bang some tubes and trash cans and then the Wizards of Twiddly play their brand of funked-up, pumped up jazz. All this in a marquee in a field – freezing cold – to an unreceptive audience – we videoed kids dancing their peculiar childish dances which made us laugh and wish to be kids. From here on something hit me emotionally and drained me of all my energy and enthusiasm. Like the low point of my cycle – the moon in the wrong place or some such and that blew the weekend, unfortunately.

Hope to have more for you soon. Time is now.

Somedays this and somedays that – 2nd June 1994

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Soon awake around 9 but such a wonderful sleep. Breakfast ate and monies paid for board, we trekked back across London to Kew Gardens – once again bright sunny day.

We spent about four hours in gasping amazement at the wonders of nature that are held here. Flowering Rhododendrons, tall bushy trees, ducks and squirrels, palms and bamboo. Despite our weary legs we saw as much as we could, sunshine charging our batteries. So much beauty contained here in the middle of the big stink. Do the London people come here to relax at 4 pounds per time, I wonder?

I still think London is a beautiful place and I’m looking forward to living in Sydney with a bit of hustle and bustle, at least for a while.

Our drive home was torturous, legs aching so, and desperate to sit down and do nothing! We dropped off Robbie in Southampton and arrived home an hour later, only to make arrangements to go and cook up some dinner at Kerry’s. Ah! Sweet food, shovelled in and nothing else to do but watch TV and read magazines, and I fell asleep as the girls watched Beauty and the Beast.

Pick me up and turn me round
Into the disarray around me

– Cardiacs

And for next two nights till now we’re still catching up on our beauty rest, my Broni being the cutest thing on earth when waking each new morning. Soon I’ll be able to stay in bed there with her and talk and play and not get up till teatime!

Squalor is at large in tidy suburbia – 1st June 1994

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Oh and Rob was dancing da boogie to da Ramones and we all did, and the house rocked, literally. Me and Broni slept on the tiniest single bed that we ever slept but we did sleep instantly heads hit pillow.

I woke at 7am, sun streaming in across lillied water, some bird gently greeting the day too right outside, in his own house of sorts. Soon I stirred everyone (Broni and Rob) and coffee’d them up into action and saying our farewells we left this beautiful spot for the big smoke.

Oh but it was a beautiful journey through tunnels of gloriously green trees and on through twisty villages, sun streaming constant casting beautiful tree shadows across the road we journeyed. On and on, til building shaped the scape and after much navigation found New Cross and parked up close to tonight’s gig and hit the road on foot and rail. Taking the underground overground and into the city to Victoria, to book some place to stay the night and catch another coffee (us all tired and weak by now).

Onto South Ken to the V&A Museum which was most cool as we spent hours looking at jewellery and costumes and artefacts and the excellent glass exhibition. Shapes and colours bouncing and reflecting – understandable fascination people have with glass, the collection of it.

Oh but it’s all too much and our dials are on overload so to Covent Garden to watch performers and candlemakers through hustle and bustle to food and nourishment. Budweiser returns colour to cheeks and my tired body prepared itself for next part of our adventure which I will have to detail you later.

And now is later. So we took long train back under and over to New Cross and got ourselves ready for the night’s ear bash. Inside the venue (called The Venue) some band thankfully finished their Carter inspired set – singer being a real whinger moaning type, but they looked pretty young so good luck to them in the future.

Into second beer and second band, Poisoned Electric Head, came on all wired and weird in funny masks and I think the singers should have kept them on. They started out vaguely interesting but soon hit dirgedom. Oh well, next band we saw from upstairs and have no idea who they is, a violin or two and hymnal female vocals reminded me of Cranes – I thought they were great at what they do but not my groove thang, you understand.

Into the middle front for Cardiacs who, fuck me dead, started with Burn Your House Brown – what a fucking ripper! And Loosefish Scapegrace in there too with some newies and oldie classic. My itching body throbbed to the beat and if more room was available I’da been windmilling air guitar, Pete Townshend (John Otway) style. Stone Age Dinosaurs/To Go Off and Things blew me away. Phew. We leave soon after second encore, ears ringing pretty tunes. Rob says ‘fairground hardcore’ and that’s all I can make out.

We sit drained in the car and navigate to our B&B where long needed rest is urged upon our bodies. Soon found it soon happens and tomorrow is another day.