Spring seems to have arrived - or is it a trick? Sheffield weather often seems to be a huge piss take, a couple of mellow days fool you into hoisting out the Ts and the shorts then without warning we're back in January mode and have to relive the best bits of winter while our collective nuts wither and our nipples expand like irritable gouty colonels with a heavy port habit. Here at sandman we're reserving judgement and as our office is always 10 degrees below the outside temperature are wearing extra thick pants. It all reminds us of an old bloke who used to walk past our primary school when we were kids. Snotty Jim was legendary because during the cold months the rolly fag that was permanently stuck to his lip was connected to his nose by a thick silvery snot string. Many claimed to have seen him open his mouth to take a frosty breath and allow the ciggy to swing outwards only to gracefully return, in a perfect bogey arc, to his grateful lips. Why are we banging on about this? Because we don't want to talk about the war, silly.

Last time around one of sandman's oldest mates was a squaddie serving as a medic in Saudi Arabia. Somewhere at our parents house is a big bundle of 'blueys' - the free services aero-grammes soldiers are issued and which arrived at our house at a rate of half a dozen a day. Lots of them were funny as fuck but some of them were homesick, sad and scared. Spare a thought for the soldiers and extend that thought towards the poor bastards that are getting bombed. Dictators are successful because they manage to keep their people in a state of ignorance and fear. Question your media and make sure you know who is controlling it and where it comes from. Sandman's mate, who is expecting a second child in the summer and has no wish to return, told us most of the body bags he shifted were full of British soldiers bombed by American planes. No change there, then. Don't let the language confuse you - there's nothing amicable about friendly fire, collateral damage still means accidentally hitting hospitals and schools and civilians still means people like you and me who aren't clever or sophisticated enough to avoid fast moving weapons of only minor destruction.

Still we're here to write about the music and that's what we'll do. This month the headaches have mainly been pleasurable ones. The label feature turned into a bit of a hydra, chop one head off and another grows in its place. There is so much stuff tumbling out of this town - not all of it good, of course, but check the new release pages, trot down to Record Collector and have a listen. You might not like all of it but we'd be shocked if something didn't lodge in your head. Bear in mind though the music industry batters more than it embraces. Have a read of the Sim Lister interview - he's well worth listening to - young bands take note, think about what you really want rather than what you think you want and for fuck's sake read the small print.

 

Cheers to everyone who came down to The Boardwalk for our night out. Look out for our next night at The Corporation on May 15th.
Sandman found itself at an 18th birthday party this month (don't ask) where Two Star Rival played a short set. Support came from a pissed-up bunch of layabouts who wobbled about for a few songs. They called themselves Sexual Chocolate which was odd because they looked very much like a blurry thisGIRL. Hmmmm

 

Ta to Phil Shankland at Inspiral for all his help and the same to Steve Taylor who passed on a load of SAM magazines to us - the thread which we've picked effectively. Some great photos of local folk with intriguing haircuts as well. Steve's a boss photographer. Keep an eye out for his next collection.

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