Pethau Garw – TV Cut Up Poems

Doc1-page-001We hear many sounds in the course of a day
The average ear is constantly being bombarded with a barrage of unrelated noise which comes at us from every direction.
A brain can seemingly filter and prioritise this sound to allow a person to function on a daily basis without going mad but unconsciously everything still passes through our ears and mixes together to soundtrack our lives and colour our thoughts.

Now if this thought became speech and noise remained unfiltered what would become of the jumbled audio mess seeping through our ears?

Would we allow this mix of thought and external sound to blur our boundary of reality? Would it drive us towards confusion and paranoia? Would it create an uneven state of consciousness where everything is ……………

TV Cut Up Poems is a new zine of cut & paste concrete poetry. The zine is accompanied by a two track 20 min sound collage CD

If you would like a copy follow the link to the Pethau Garw  bandcamp page

Buy TV Cut Up Poems HERE

Thursday Music Rant

For me it began with ‘The Third Mind’
That most gloriously influential book by William Burroughs & Brion Gysin
It inspired a lot of us to get in to this
We believed that it could make things better
Redefine language

The Third Mind was a blue print
A book of intentions
A method of deconstruction
A way of removing the predictable and creating new options
Things had to be redefined.
I’ve tried to do it all my life through music, writing, drawing
Things have to be real and different
Things have to be cut up, rearranged.
Seen in a fresh context
Drawing upon the nearest thing to hand, whatever it takes
Whatever works
We have to try and obliterate cultural clichés

Now when it comes to music I raise two fingers to those who walk the safe path
Fake users of sound,
Fake bands playing the game as if nobody has ever done it before
Hanging with their self-created crowd
Promoting their own myth
Depressing culture

There is such an aching drudgery in watching it happen again year after year
New bands, new scenes, new labels – non of them worth much of a mention
Everyone wanks each other till its dead
Then it begins again

Our world is drowning in music and  culture continues to be dumbed down and ruined.
The commercial music industry is shit as it has always been.
Tv talent show contests teach us discourage equality among artists
Someone has to be eliminated, made to feel worthless, there are winners and losers
Talent, art, expression and truth have never be so institutionalised

The rest of us, serious in our intent have to hide and exist in the niche within the niche
lost within the long tail of availability
We are expected to be tech savvy.
Self-promoters following the guidelines
Building profiles and networks
Infrastructures. Cultural industries
Sitting in rooms feeding computers with hype
Keeping close with those that understand
And follow the cause

I know that nothing of what I’m saying is in any way original for fucks sake
But it feels like a punch to the gut for some like me
This is not art. It’s not what I signed up for
Social media is dead
Fuck it. Music seems dead
The internet is not to be trusted
Unlimited availability has devalued sound
Pure voices are drowned
Buried among the bright new things saying nothing
Mainstream media is obsessed with the new




The word makes me cringe
The internet has spawned a globally interconnected monster.
A sprawling production line of image obsessed blandness
Controlled by self-created taste makers
Music is squeezed out like toothpaste
Formed in identical rows
Batch after batch after batch
Year after year

I hate new band vogue
The folly of youth
And yes I have been there


People are so easily pleased
Or are they?

I won’t be part of it
But what do I know
I am comfortable in the knowledge that I have no answers
I have never been a great musician
I’ll never be widely known or acknowledged
Nor can I pronounce myself as being more relevant or important than the next
But I know my place. I have found my voice
There is maturity in obscurity

This life
My work
It has never let me down
Music is innocent
But I detest the way it is abused
And I feel lost

Pethau Garw – Misfit Memo’s

3cdd4ade275808cc7573d0798b4e6cd70ebbf5cc_mMy random/noise/improv side project Pethau Garw has a new album out this week.

It was recorded in just over an hour on Sunday 18th Oct. I took my battered guitar and a book of Sheamus Heaney poems and set to work. I had no idea what I wanted to record but I knew that I needed to have an album by the end of it. It is  hard to listen to and kind of gnarly but reflects the moment and the performance.

This is me just making up music on the spot. It existed for the time it took to play it in that specific space and is captured in all its glory with the hiss and clicks intact.


You can download Misfit Memo’s for free from Bandcamp 

Tales From The Cutlery Drawer – Out Now

book2Tales From The Cutlery Drawer is a collection of poems that I wrote about two years ago. The poems have been available to read on this site and to download in a Kindle version from Amazon for a little while now but I’ve finally got it together to publish the book in a proper paper version at last.

The book is published today –  Mon 7th Sept – and you can place an order now at the link below

Tales From The Cutlery Drawer contains 19 ace poems and has a special hand drawn dust jacket

Costs for the book are £6.00 + £1pp and to order please click the link below

Cheers all


Tales From The Cutlery Drawer

IMG_0004QJust a quick post to let you know that my new book of poetry ‘Tales From The Cutlery Drawer’ is now available.

I’m working on a special print copy at the moment but you can get your hands on my words, so to speak, from the link below .


Here is one of the poems from the book so you can see how ace it is ;0)

Cheers all



A Gulf Of Understanding

Monday night
In North Wales

We sit here
Safe within walls
Having lives, moments,

Existing in bubbles
Of self preservation
That blanket our
Barred window bodies

We heave with relief
When we survive another day
Making a deal
Out of the trivial
In domestic routine

Coloured and whites in the basket

Tomorrows football boots cleaned before school

But how weird is
this world of reasonable fortune
Which blinkered as we are
Forms the gulf of our understanding
Our context

When at that exact same moment

The cake bakes,
The kettle clicks as it boils
Or Eastenders starts

At that exact same moment
On the other side of the world
Or the opposite side of the road

Someone else dies

The News Agents

NewsAgents1The News Agents  is a brilliant new radio programme currently being broadcast on Saturday afternoons via the increasing popular London Arts Radio station ‘Resonance FM’

The show is presented by my old friend and collaborator Jude Cowan Montague who along with Rob Edwards and guest artists, mix news analysis, art & poetry to discuss and creatively respond to stories making the headlines around the world.

Last week (Feb 01) The team played some of the collaborative sound collage stuff that Jude & I have been working on as well as a piece that I wrote exclusively for the show.




The News Agents can be heard every Saturday between 2.30 & 3.30 pm over at Resonance FM



Stan and the bike

It’s Monday morning in Bristol. The rain is falling and the day is uncommonly dark.

Out in the streets the ghostly figures of commuters in the early morning light shuffle past the large glass display windows of local shops making their way to school and work or where ever it is they need to go.

Inside Fowler Motorcycles on Bath Street Stan is signing a deal on a new Triumph Thunderbird. He is 52 and overweight. Never an active man his legs hurt him more often than not these days and he’s not sure why.

The salesman eyes Stan with curiosity from over the top of his glasses and wonders exactly what a guy like Stan is going to do with a machine as powerful as the Speedmaster T-16

In Stan’s mind today is a landmark! A day that signifies a new chapter in his life. In reality, buying the bike is yet another attempt to get over the messy divorce that crippled him emotionally just over six months ago.

During the disintegration of his marriage the kids gradually took their mothers side and when it came to the crunch Stan found himself stood on the doorstep with an over night bag one muggy night in October facing the world as only a man thrown out of his own home could.

He won’t admit it but the emptiness he feels inside scares him half to death. Stan doesn’t sleep too well these days and he is always awake before the alarm sounds each morning, lying in the dark wishing the world would go away.

The sky is beginning to clear a little by the time Stan is standing on the forecourt of the bike dealers garage, trying to tie the strap of his new helmet. It takes him a little while to do as its years since Stan rode a bike and he is quietly aware that eyes are watching him from inside.

The salesman has pulled open the office Venetian blinds with one hand and is looking directly at Stan through the slats waiting for him to start the bike and leave but there is something about Stan that worries him. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want the bike but needs it for some greater plan. He has a curious feeling that he’ll never see Stan again.

Finally a lonely figure mounts the bike and pulls away from the forecourt into the mid morning traffic. Inside his helmet Stan is wearing a curious grin. His legs no longer hurt and the pain inside his head is gone. He opens the throttle and heads out of the city.

The next morning, local newspapers ran with a lead story reporting the death of a lone motorcyclist who seemingly drove a brand new Triumph Thunderbird into the Avon Gorge…..

New Album – Work In Progress

I bought this book  featuring the poet Adrian Henri while on holiday over the summer and it kind of gave me the 8030193602_cc79fe147e_bmotivation to start a new album. His poems are ace and I have mostly used them as lyrics on the tunes I’m working on at the moment.
I got listening  to Captain Beefheart  (especially the drums on Trout Mask Replica) and early albums by the Fall and decided to record something more hard-edged this time – ie no acoustic guitar !!
When I thought about how to put the album together I had this idea to construct a slightly Dadaist imaginary radio programme (the Pulco Show) that would have songs, poems and weird little dramatic interludes. There is a theatre like intro and cheesy credits outro.
The album is called ‘Innovation In The Trade’
The track below is a rough mix of a song called ‘Fan Heater’ it is a jolly tune with gnarly guitars and a shouty vocal – (track deleted sorry)


Art, Poetry & Music – Pethau Garw

4fcba10f4525f0498170541be3726b03I started a Tumblr site a few months ago to showcase and hopefully sell some the art, poetry and music I make that doesn’t get an official release through Folkwit Records.

The site has developed a bit now and I’ve started to use it as a vehicle for distributing homemade creations that I love  by other people.

I’ve already posted and album by Picturebox and this week have made available releases by Sweet Benfica & Snippet.

The site kind of speaks for itself so please have a look if you have a moment


Sound Series Vol 1


I’ve recently started a Tumblr blog to sell my art & poetry. This site will also feature regular musical releases too, the first of which is up to download now.

Sound Series Vol 1 is a 20 minute sound collage in two parts that features field recordings made at the beginning of the year in and around Bangor and new poems written in the last month or so.

It is out now as a digital download but I will be releasing 4 limited edition copies on Cassette. Each one will come will a small painting and poetry broadsheet. I hope to have these finished by the end of the month.

I intend these releases to be a place for me to experiment more with found sound and spoken word. They will also include collaborations with other musicians and poets.

You can visit the Pethau Garw website here and Sound Series Vol 1 can be listened to and bought below