Hey, Im Marley Parker. Underground Hip-Hop producer working under Tsall good records.

New album 'Ghosts In The Fire' due for release in Spring 2012.  Featuring Seamus Devenny on drums and backing vocals and Brendan McGlynn on bass and backing vocals.  On tour from April 2012.  


for further information: moth3rh00d@gmail.com

http://www.myspace.com/570044050

Gigs: 

26 January: Heroes, Camden 7pm. THE RETURN OF GIGS!

24 November: Launch of Thank You, My Dog EP; George Orwell Tavern (Essex Road) w/No Colour, Frog Morris, and Great Men plus special performances by Paul Haworth and an exotic film screening. Video teaser (expect this and much more, homie(s)): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0sg4jJ0YVow

17 November: Blag Club (Notting Hill Gate) (acoustical)

15 November: Monto Water Rats (Kings Cross) w/Sweet Sweet Lies

13 November: Start the Bus (Bristol, UK) w/Jeff the Brotherhood (video below):
http://blip.tv/yourmusic-productions/13-11-11-at-start-the-bus-motherhood-pt-1-5738117

8 November: The Good Ship (Kilburn)

29 October, The Enterprise (Chalk Farms/Camden)CANCELLED FOR SOME UNKNOWABLE REASON

20 October: St. Paul's

15 September 2011: Book Launch Partnership Friary Road House: 

Just to announce that the increasingly legendary South London Publishing House Friary Road House and Motherhood are working together to draw attention to FRH's latest almighty poetry anthology: "noetpy"--doing my best to mimic the cyrillic orthography of the journal with Roman letters. 

Among the amazing writers included are Bobby Dowler, Vincent Clay and the incomparable Alexander Nemser 

Motherhood is including a free CD complete with artwork/lyrics sheet and a lovingly crafted personal message with copies of "noetpy". If you'd like a copy of the anthology, just email us here and we'll get it out to you. The collection is £6 plus postage. 


9 August, 2011, Buffalo Bar (video of "Punk for Life/Punk for Death")

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZR1xr3U5Flo


17 August, 2011, Good Ship (Kilburn) 8pm.ish.

in the meantime, a pseud0-bandifest0 for downpressing grourmandisers who recreate the punk club of their youth in Vegas:
 
			Motherhood Manifestations 

The markets reject sleep. The European vortex howls outside. Null and void, full of economic rationalisations, the confrontation of the past, with the bad dream. Horrible, misplaceable freedom is dancing in the cappuccino froth. The sea monster roils beneath, scrapings from the drama are reconfigured and sold back via satellite packages and living room sets. Daily anthracite inhalings, arctic seepage, briefly, heavenly forgotten poisons are inhaled in spas; back in style. Turn every page, hoping that the last newspaper will disintegrate before dawn. Listen to every plane and helicopter as it passes, chopping its way into deeper darknesses. Which will be the day it chops for you? An X-Factor Saturday?

Primordial scouring of the ideologies is producing nothing, writers blocs and idiolecterns for the worst. It’s fun to drag flags through teargas and watch the club descend into hazy double vision. Dog runs are breeding, rats and hocus-pocus are breaking teeth on the gates of Vienna in the dream of an extraordinarily stupid ape.  Tune in for the carcass videos, and the fright-faces of the masters and their press secretaries, securities and exchanges are commissioned, call me a fledgling, I’m fledging my allegiance to the only thing I’ve ever loved: hiss and noise and total disobedience. 
Nostalgia for air raid sirens, motility of borders, the old fashioned in-and-down-and-out. Common enemies proliferate in the auto-recessional and in the mildew towers. Jubilee year came and went without any jubilation. The securitisation of the cathedral seat also came and petered out. Enter the venerable mosque paranoia, the soul on icicles and icecap retreat. I’m feeling the stoppage of the genre, the inevitable every day slowing of the thermo-haline deregulation. Aristocrats love Aristaeus, written on papyrus, buying copies of Frieze and The Big Takeover, reading until fingers bleed and consciousness manifests itself as something greater than a fashionable malady. Inside the mouth organ, inside the portcullis, David Foster Wallace fell out of race for rattiness, what does the aerial surveillance tell? The coconut and tear ice cream is melting on the sidewalk, suck the spoon until all the goodness goes out. After dinner mincing, supply lines are tight, the fear of a dark future looms on a black planet, that there won’t be enough black blood to keep the tanks and caterpillars humming. Harmony is a kind of conspiracy. 

 Down at Lourdes, various accidental members of the human race accrue. Dive into the illustrious illusions, accidental interpretations accrue. The kids of yesterday become the eternal kids of today, the calumny of the 1970s is being rerun, nurturing the harrow of the 1980s, homogenising the milk of the 1990s, which is lead, sleepwalking, in a financialised sleeping bag called the 2000s. We’ve counted up to slaughterhouse six now, preparing to unleash our special brand of mistake on everything, Klingons, giraffes, the noble presence gone absent since something like the Edwardian age, the pointless in-between. 

Tear gas for tear masks, hobo jamborees erupted from the nothingness in the wake of the RNC Welcoming Committee and the media flare gun pointed at its heart. Credit line lassos evoked Buffalo Bill et al. defunct. The zero radiates and pulls the unhappy constant of the present into one piece. No one has a freedom pass any more for the freedom bus. Neal Cassidy and Ginsberg are rotting beneath the Stealer’s Wheel licensing fees and T-Shirt assassins gathered at the foyer. Welcome to the industry, kid(z). 

Gone commando, the night before I enlisted, I decided to drink that beer and enlist the jizz goggles and all that entails. I peered into the future for long enough to realise that all the world is a stage and all in it are soundmen/soundwomen waiting for Gyges and the Lychees to take the stage, to emerge from the cave and give us a round of ring-around-the-warhead before departing on the private hell-jet to nowhere, to play a gig for Ilham Aliev and companies—Spoek Mathambo on percussion. Before they left, I stole the set list which contained Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s recipe for rock’n’roll rebellion: push a button and nothing drips out. As soon as an idea bubbles over it is frozen by the coolness of the advertising avant-garde. Sob if you will, ideally on to a plate of bone china porcelain with intellectual property rights, to be projected on the Jumbotron. Farewell, moon. 
Flowers and allergies, and rhapsody can be imported. Punching a hole in the romantic outlaw is a fine way to pass through time. Camelot was a lie before it became a legend, now there’s only the Barbary pirates’ radio station brought to you by supermarkets and monks retreating down the demand curve, obsessed with giving something back to the no ones and antibodies.  As soon as you feel it, you can buy it because someone felt you while you were feeling it. 

All manifestations are the reification of irrelevance. How can the present be different from the past when the past is sitting there drunk and passed out on the couch with a dick drawn on its cheek and “Obama 2012” written on its shin-bone?  A loop, as they say, is a loop, is a loop is a wolf is a woolf is an allegiance to a particular place and time and estimate of bohemian credibility. You feel strangely attached to it, but still want to see it ruptured and its guts spilling on the ground. 
Sooner or later someone asks you to stand outside yourself and make a long list of plausible things to reject:


 				Bullet Point/Going Ballistics 
--Art is a strawberry jar effect followed by a strawberry fields effect.
--Art is a long haired dude effect (black T-shirt with oozy writing optional).
--Art is a cleansing of the synaptic cleft.
--Art is a Tom Petty and the Heartbroken effect.
 		--Art is a sustained love for that which can and does destroy you effect.
 		--Art is a modality of crapulence effect.
 --Art is an I didn’t do it and he throws up his hands; I was only robbin’ the  register, I hope ya understand effect. 
 		--Art is a subsidiary of the cigar effect. 
 		--Art is a worst left to the professionals effect. 

This is the day of the fetishising of the lunatic. Donks have touched everything. One sunny afternoon, irony vomited misogyny into its present form; no amount of hate is too volatile to be commodified. Rock’n’roll was born as a paisley camera, and a floating signifier after a shipwreck, as a cartoon starring Savonarola, micro-fish mircosoflty melting in an endless desert of the unreal, annealing in the endless descant that is glass, from the friction of its own masturbation. 

Today donuts are rock’n’roll. Rock’n’roll is as much of a ritual as the sex it parodies. But rock’n’roll is a mistake worth repeating. Rock’n’roll is the bellhop for hip-hop. Rock’n’roll is a designer balaclava. Rock’n’roll is an allusion to the Battle of Sevastopol made on Rue Sebastopol. Rock’n’roll is sodomy with a cigar. Rock’n’roll is the plosive and the fricative in history.  Rock’n’roll is a pig destined for Serrano ham. 

Q: What makes a band start pyres? 
A: Paranoia about 19-year-olds not going broke to feed the bonobo dairy farm in your backyard. 

Self indulgence leads to cultural gout—were you too gently raised to feast upon yourself, Bajazeth?  Rock’n’roll is the machine without the ghost. It runs all night and only scares itself. Rock’n’roll needs a good schism. 

Type powerlessness into search engines: there’s an image of a bar-back in a band. Turn the lights out once a generation and watch everyone eating their young in the narcolepsy of cheap holidays: express the same hopeless, powerless, shamelessness in a different city with a language barrier and, fatally, the barrier persists when you wake up, unaware how you got home, as you thread the passersby in the streets. Caring becomes a subculture, compassion a mode of assassination of the political discourse as permitted and mitigated. Leaving water in the desert of the real is understood by the barbarians who created it to be the act of greatest infamy.  Criminalising humanity will be the final test and expression of professional credibility. 
Long shadows of power stretch back into the dark ages and create strange topologies. The Creature from the Black Lagoon was a communist, same as aliens and virons of various stripes are stand-ins for Orientalist spiders in the present. We end up, sooner or later, on one side of the glass partition, where the past and the future stand staring each other in the face in blind terror as plastic reinforcement lends greater flexibility and licensing the blind thrashing continue without fear of splinters. 

Nothing so beautiful as glass breaking, nothing so beautiful as the silence of sarcophagi, nothing so beautiful as the mound built of love sloping and exhaling beside you, nothing so beautiful as money exposed to daylight. All children will be trained in business suits and graduate into permanent retirement. The fortunate sonneteers who learn the corporate bleat fluently-fruitlessly will man the pilotless reconnaissance reapers, telling us what we think of ourselves and providing the subject matter for photorealist meditations on the distance between post-democracy and desire. 
In the next life (more or less), we will write poetry that is easy to understand and be invited to the White House Press Dinner so that we can shake hands with our own hubris and timidity. Gideon hisself will read the Bible to the taxidermist who immortalised Rocky Raccoon. The discussion will centre on the pleasures of watching yourself evanesce without disturbing the galaxy or, more referentially, the universe, and the pleasures of dealing yourself out of the fun and games and into the chain gang. 

Sooner or later, the permanent disorder pays off. The heavy hands blunder in to a Fashoda Incident by for and of the cameras, expect any faces you see to be dispersed like cherry blossoms as soon as they appear, in transit to the cherry moon. Come on, you wilderness enthusiasts, come on, you wolf children with wolf shoulders who name your bands after wolves. Come on, you up-and-comers. Come on, you down-and-goers. Come on, you fuckwads and fucksticks, and fuckwits. Lets meet in the utterly ruined roses, the pansy-dotted flunky city farms. Come on, last bad ideas! Let’s meet in the fragment of the frangipani future bequeathed to us. Let’s have our table talk, our autumnal folk flutter, our embrace before the wings close over us. If one person can change, lots of people can transmogrify. Don’t you dream of a bike basement made out of rosewood and lover-fuckdom? Of a woodland compound and the song of deliquescing nymphs in the shower? Of punks falling into your reflection in the black water of home? No? 

excess = success = excressence.

Rock on, dog.  




"alternative/ rhythm & folk/ rock"
~ * Saklad has put together a diverse collection drawing on ’80s-’90s Philly rock, yet forging a fresh updated EDM influenced sound w/ melodies & lyrics that resonate, current for today. 13 (now 14) song Metaphor album released 6/9/17 w/ added new song, Red Eye Road– 4/20!
_  Once renewed songwriting surged w 2nd album, SAKLAD ’10, it cannot stop! Fresh album Spellbound, updated 7/2/15.  http://saklad.bandcamp.com 
_  He’s performing with guitars & piano, original back trax + songs featuring co-writer Kim De Meo, and friend(s). Saklad’s history in the Phila Music Scene spans 30+ years, original member on keyboards & bu vocals for Alan Mann, David Rowan (since age 13), Robert Hazard, and writing/perform w Essra Mohawk, many others.
  _*To listen begs to discover more- who is this musician, began classical piano age 6, performed at Carnegie Hall age 10, & again regularly offers new originals for your ears & heart.

Michael Tearson dj- “Larry. hope the river’s flowin’ smooth thru your world, nice work on the new platter!” ['10] “Thanks for Christmas On The Block... what a lovely piece of music!” airplay '11- '13.
"a songwriter's songwriter... [with] determination and heart..." E Crowley
“his skill as a story teller shines... experience as soon as you can”- Origivation Mag
“songs have a bounce to them... voice does stand out on it’s own” - Jimmy Allford, Pa Music Scene

_ Following his fall '06 debut, Yet2B, Larry Saklad has been performing regionally, both in support of those songs and new writing. Sept '10 brought us a collection of recordings, SAKLAD, all relate to finding inner peace.
_  Contrasts abound, with keyboard textures, electric/ acoustic guitars and rhythms, providing support for an ever-changing genre, from full-on Rock Anthems to Acoustic Ballads and Funky-Folk Pop, Saklad crafts thoughtful and catchy insight into our world...
Spellbound saklad.bandcamp.com 7/2/15
SAKLAD album http://cdbaby.com/saklad

Tall, hungry and probably in the studio
Singer / Songwriter / Topliner / Producer
Endorsed by Audient
London, UK
Contact: info@thedentonway.com

BAND MEMBERS:
Calogero Genco - alto and soprano sax
Leonardo Grimaudo - guitar 
Fabrizio Brusca - guitar
Carmelo Graceffa – drums &amp; percussion

ABOUT THE BAND:
Manziluna, in Arabic “our house”, is a project born in 2008 realized by Fabrizo Brusca and Leonardo grimaudo on guitar, the saxophonist Calogero Genco and Carmelo Graceffa on drums. Four musicians who ever since have been working on timbre and compositive research by comparing the sicilian culture with contemporary music languages. In 2009 they recorded their debut album “Manziluna” which came out two years later edited by the italian label “Fitzcarraldo Records”. In the meanwhile the project took part in several festival whose are worth mentioning, among the others, “Winter Jazz Itineraries 2009”(Sicily), “Yhan-La Sorgente Della Musica 2010(Sicily)” with the singer Sanem Kalfa as a special guest, “Trytone Festival, New Way of Jazz 2011”(Amsterdam,NL). 2012 was an inspiring year for the band, in fact the exploration of their musical origins through jazz improvisation, middle-eastern melodies, acoustic, electric sounds and complex polyrhythms was the beginning of a new approach for their music, moving towards other musical colors and adding the Cello was the singularity of “Secretum”, a triptych of compositions written by the guitarist Fabrizio Brusca. In 2013 Manziluna plus cello were involved in very important festivals such as “Palermo Jazz Vanguard”, “Ras Al Jazz” and “Arcosoli Jazz Festival. Back to the original lineup, the quartet have just recorded the new album in Groningen (NL) at the beginning of 2014 which will come out soon with the dutch label “Cantina Records” and this time with a new guest, Cinzia Catania on vocals who has joined the band for a few songs.

INFO SUI MUSICISTI:

FABRIZIO BRUSCA - GUITAR
Guitarist / composer, was born in Palermo on February 11th, 1977. After a Degree in Sculpture achieved in 2001 at the Fine Arts Academy of Palermo and music studies as self-taught, he attends to the Bachelor Jazz Guitar course at the Prins Claus Conservatory in Groningen (Netherlands) in 2004. He studies with Conrad Herwig, Ralph Peterson Jr., Brian Lynch, David Berkman, Steve Davis, Michael Moore, Deena De Rose, Don Braden, Anton Goudsmit; between Holland and Italy he follows workshops with Lee Konitz, Joe Lovano, Salvatore Bonafede, Ralph Towner, Maria Pia De Vito, Timucin Sahin, David Gilmore, Kurt Rosenwinkel. In 2007 he achieves his bachelor receiving a 3 months in New York Scholarship by the prestigious Andrea Elkenbracht Foundation; here he studies with Ben Monder, Gilad Hekselman, Lage Lund, Jonathan Kreisberg, Adam Rogers, Gene Bertoncini, Steve Coleman. In March 2011 releases the debut cd Manziluna (Fitzcarraldo Rec.) as co-leader. Between 2012 and 2014 He records and collaborates with various national and international projects as the Emanuele Primavera 4et and the Jacek Kochan 4et in Poland. He plays, among the others with Conrad Herwig, Marcello Pellitteri, Giovanni Falzone, Orchestra Macchina di Suoni di Marvi La Spina & David Kikoski, Jacek Kochan, Dominik Wania, Seby Burgio, Pietro Ciancaglini, Mauro Schiavone, Michael Rosen, Owen Hart Jr., Tarek Yamani. Since the year 2010 teaches at the music school Palermo Jazz and 2012 at the Arte Musica Academy in Caltagirone (Sicily), performing as well at important festivals and clubs in Italy, Netherlands, Lithuania, Poland. Since 2014 is the artistic director of C.A.Mu.S. (Artistic collective of Sicilian Musicians).
￼
LEONARDO GRIMAUDO - GUITAR
Leonardo Grimaudo was born 05 October 1974 in Erice, Italy, he started to play piano and guitar at the age of 8. He attended the Conservatory of Music "A. Scontrino" in Trapani and “V. Bellini in Palermo studying with Maurizio Norrito, Guido Barbieri, Gaetano Colajanni, Giovanni Sollima, getting his degree as Maestro di chitarra in 2002. In Palermo he got in contact with many musicians playing with Sanspapier (modernTango), Macchina di suoni (C. Mingus music) conducted by Marvi La Spina, and the European Jazz Big Band conducted by Gunther Schuller, Bill Russo and Dusko Goykovich. In September 2002 he moved to Groningen (Holland), where he attended the ‘Prins Claus Conservatory’ (Jazz Department) studying with Winfred Buma, Anton Goudsmit, Conrad Herwig, Kurt Weiss, David Berkman, Ralph Peterson, Joris Teepe. He became a Bachelor of Art (jazz guitar) in 2006. In Holland he started to work as a leader and composer of a band called SIBULI. With this quartet he played in many jazz Festivals such as Kaunas (Lithuania), Cinisi Tonnara Nuove Musiche (Sicily), Midnight Express in Groningen and Trytone Festival in Amsterdam. He is the leader of LOE his new trio with Clemens van der Feen on bass and Kristijan Krajncan on drums.

CALOGERO GIUSEPPE GENCO – ALTO & SOPRANO SAX
Calogero Giuseppe Genco was born the 02/11/1977 in Enfield (GB), starts playing the sax at the age of 12 years in the municipal band of Santa Margherita di Belice. He begins the classical studies at the age of 16 years at the Music Conservatoire "A.Scontrino" in Trapani, where gets his degree under the leader of the teacher Antonino Peri in 1999. From 2004 till 2006 he attends the courses of ensemble and orchestral practice and at the meantime he attends the jazz sax course at the Music Conservatoire “V.Bellini” in Palermo, where he gets his degree in December 2007. In 2005 he participates at the workshop at “Siena Jazz” studying with Mauro Negri, Claudio Corvini, Marco Tamburini, Stefano Zenni e Mario Raja. In the same year he teaches Music at the school “Giovanni XXIII” in Vedano a Lambro ( Milano). Since 2006 he is in the project O.I.D (Orchestra IN- stabile DIS/accordo), playing with musicians such as Stefano D’Anna, Mauro Schiavone, Francesco Guaiana, Luca Lo Bianco, Gianni Gebbia, Achille Succi, Tony Cattano, Piero Bittolo Bon, Francesco Cusa, Jimmy Weinstein, Enzo Carpentieri among the others. Currently he works in the musical association "Terre Sicane" taking part in financed projects with European bottoms, contributing to the diffusion of the musical culture among young people, organizing concerts for the territory school.

CARMELO GRACEFFA – DRUMS & PERCUSSION
Carmelo Graceffa was born in Agrigento (Italy) on 4th of March 1982. His music journey starts at the age of 11 in the fanfare of Aragona, (Ag). Two years later he embarks the study of drums as selftaught showing a particular interest popular music, specially for the “frame drums”, ethnic instruments played in many music traditions from many parts of the World. Later he moves to Palermo to study “Discipline of Music” at the faculty of Literature and Philisophy and he graduated on 2009. In the same period he studies jazz drums at The Brass Group of Palermo, playing in many projects and also in the Big Band of the conservatorium ‘V.Bellini’ of Palermo, with this ensemble he participates to several festivals, one of this is “Villa Celimontana Jazz Festival” in Rome. Since 1998 he participates to several folk music festivals in all Europe and in 2004 he
reaches also Japan. In the summer of 2005 he studies at the ‘Foundation Siena Jazz’ with the teacher Ettore Fioravanti. Since 2006 he’s part of the Laboratory of Ethnomusicology at the University of Palermo. At present he is studing jazz drums at the ‘Prins Claus Conservatorium’ Groningen with Ralph Peterson jr. Until today he carries out an intense activity as a drummer and percussionist in many projects and ensembles between Italy and Netherlands.

also check out these links:

http://asiluum.com/site/2012/01/03/asiluum-case-studies-ep-3-nava-spatiala/

http://soundcloud.com/nava_spatiala_mix

http://soundcloud.com/nava_spatiala

for bookings & other stuff you can send us an email: navaspatialaa@gmail.com

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