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2010-03-01T16:40:00.001-08:00

Giglog - Underbelly, Hoxton Square, 11th December 2009

2009-12-14T17:13:00.000-08:00

The Fuse Giglog – Underbelly, 11th December

Underbelly on a Friday is one of London’s best live music venues. It has its own crowd, for a start, which is the Holy Grail of live music. The Monto had done their usual great job and assembled some cracking bands for the night’s entertainment.

Plus, it sounds incredible. Paul Daly, the owner, has really gone to town on the sound system and its second to none.

We were on shortly after The Velvetines, a great band from South Africa whose sound I really liked. I’m hoping they might be able to support us at our next show there, but that of course remains to be confirmed.

The show itself was pretty special.

We opened up with Gonna See You, a new track which made its way into the set pretty instantly – its just one of those tracks you have to listen to.

However, it’s a new song and as such we will definitely play it better in the future.

Hello was floated along nicely, and my voice was just starting to get properly warmed up...

We really hit our stride in Everybody Knows The Way, though, and in Phantom I became aware that the gig was becoming special.

It’s a strange feeling, but you always know when it happens – the energy of everyone in the room becomes focused on the stage, and suddenly the band is filled with a special feeling.

When this happens, all the moves you dream you’ll pull off, come off without you having to think about them – time slows down, and the music becomes an extension of your being.

There’s no them and us – its just all of us together, and the music. Crazy Love felt a bit like that.

After the gig, Paul Daly, the owner of the venue, came over and said how much he’d enjoyed the set. I had a good chat with him, and it turns out he’d only come down to see if the stage needed raising – he caught some of our set and really dug it.

At the end of the day, The Fuse is a small band, and catching the eye of people like Paul is really good news for us.

We’re really looking forward to headlining at Underbelly on Saturday 20th February.

Alex Lato

The Fuse - Google Front Pagers.

2009-12-08T16:44:00.000-08:00

Dear Fans,

Hope this finds you all good. We at The Fuse (which right now translates as me, Alex Lato) are stoked because we're finally on the front page of google.

This is, to quote my favourite film character of all time - The Dude, from The Big Lebowski - is far f****** out man, because I was getting totally sick of people saying, oh we tried to look for you on the internet but you weren't there.

Now we are!

To celebrate, I've posted a video of myself on you tube laughing like a hyena. Its not unusual for me, but many of you won't be familiar with this kind of behaviour. Those of you that are... won't be surprised.

So - hit up the facebook page and check it out, its like - 20 seconds long.

Also people - we have a big gig on Friday, at Underbelly in Hoxton Square. You gotta come. We'll be playing some sick new shit.

see you there boyos!

Alex

p.s. notice that I have ignored the US spelling fascist autospell thing and stuck with favourite, and behaviour. I love America... but not that much.

The Fuse - Demo Of The Week In Montreal!

2009-12-01T16:30:00.000-08:00

Great News for The Fuse...

we just got picked as demo of the week in Montreal! here's the station:

http://www.cism.umontreal.ca/

also, please keep an eye out for our iPhone App - we've had it for ages but we're only just getting a link to it on the main website...

downloading it will get you special access to Fuse News, before everyone else, and when we get 100 downloads we will start doing iPhone only specials - video clips of the group that only ap holders will see.

stuff like us fighting, playing tricks on each other.. etc.

all good stuff.

so check it out!

The Fuse

2009-11-28T04:49:00.000-08:00

Giglog – The Victoria, Mile End, 27.11.09

Friday gigs are always fairly comedy as I have to carry all my gear on my scooter.

I have two students on a Friday, so this means hauling smoke machine, merchandise, guitar, and school books into and out of their houses.

They are used to it now, but its always fairly challenging explaining it the first time round.

So, you’re a musician are you? And what’s that, a bomb?

No, its a smoke machine.

Oh, ok… then.

Once underway, the load bearing capabilities of Piaggio’s finest are second to none – you’d struggle to carry this much gear around on any other two wheeled vehicle.

Anyway…

The walls of the Victoria are adorned with old newspapers. I learnt, for example, that Erwin Rommel committed suicide under the direct order of Adolf Hitler.

The five of us sat round an old school TV and played Sonic the Hedgehog on the Sega Saturn.

We also played a fairly shit fighting game – it was great fun, although Jake beat me playing one handed which was pretty embarrassing.

I’m more into driving games. They didn’t have any driving games.

We’re feeling very tight as a unit at the moment, and the chemistry on stage is pretty compelling.

I think maybe the years of practice are starting to tell – keep an eye out on the website, word on the street is that there’s some decent footage floating around from last night’s gig and I’m hoping to persuade Tenku, the arranger/producer, to part with some of it!

Looking out at the crowd, it was great to see some familiar faces – film maker Robin Field was there with some friends, and Jake’s friends Regina and Danielle were representing for the second time. Great to see them all again. And of course our fellow performers Stephanie Grace, Miss Davina Lee and Venus Mischiefs …

(There were more than 4 people there btw…lol, those are just the people I knew!)

Afterwards, I kept a weather eye on the merch table… and was gratified when I saw two guys come over and root through the merch saying ‘The Fuse The Fuse’ and then scuttle away with the last two of our promo EPs.

Technically they're not meant to be free, but I won’t lie – it made my night to hear them saying ‘The Fuse The Fuse’ like that.

Its nice to feel in demand. Special mention to Sonila Vjeshta for organizing the night, and raising loads of money for the school in South Africa. Over 500 pounds raised! Well done Soni!

Next gig is on the 11^th December, at Underbelly, Hoxton.

Tickets available via the website.

The Fuse – Be A Part Of It.

Thefusemusic.com

Radio Play In The UK...

2009-11-17T16:02:00.000-08:00

More radio play for The Fuse... this time from..

http://www.jumpradio.org/

Many thanks to Loui from Jump for playing us.... please check out his show on Sunday November 22nd.

The Fuse - Be A Part Of It.

Radio Play In Vancouver, Canada

2009-11-17T01:49:00.000-08:00

The Fuse is proud to announce that we are enjoying radio play in Vancouver, Canada, courtesy of Banana Peel Radio.

http://www.bananapeelradio.com/

Many thanks to Jeffrey Rubin of Banana Peel for his support!

We're also delighted to say that we have sold our first album in Argentina... it feels amazing to be an international band.

Its also really gratifying to see the subscribers to the Prince of Wales Rainforest campaign keep climbing.... thanks to all of you who've done that.

If you're reading this, and you're yet to do that - please, take a couple of minutes out of your day and join the campaign.

many thanks,

The Fuse - Be A Part Of It.

Over The Weekend...

2009-11-16T03:25:00.000-08:00

Last weekend saw time spent on planning the Solid Silver video. Solid Silver will be one of our new tracks coming out in the new year.

We're looking for ambitious actors and actresses to get involved in this video project, so if you would like to be involved, email thefuse@rocketmail.com...

Send us a few pics and a resume, and maybe the star of the Solid Silver video could be YOU!

The Fuse - Be A Part Of It.

Art We Like

2009-11-13T01:34:00.000-08:00

Art We Like - as you will have seen by now... is up and running. We're enormously privileged to be featuring work by some of the UK's finest artists, Will Martyr, Jonathan Freemantle, and Alex Rooney.

If you're reading this and thinking, could that be me, then yes, it could - not for a little while, but we will be rotating the spots on the site, and also creating an 'Artists in Residence' page for all those we've featured on the site. That's still to come though.

But if you'd like YOUR work featured, get in touch - the email address isn't working yet though, so hold your fire until Monday or Tuesday of next week.

However, the address to contact is:

artwelike@thefusemusic.com

The Fuse - Be a Part Of It.

The Fuse Goes Global

2009-11-10T17:22:00.000-08:00

Incredibly, music by The Fuse has now been heard in almost every country in the world, from Australia to Iceland.

Thanks to the work of one of our fans on you tube, Hello has been heard by over 290k people all round the world in the last two days.

We've had messages of support from people in Mexico, Aruba, and Iceland!

Good times!

If you're reading this - and you haven't done so already - please take a couple of minutes to sign up to the Save The Rainforest widget. The summit is approaching fast and we really need to maximise our commitment.

Thanks to those who have already - we have 300 more signatures this week! Great effort.

Many thanks.

The Fuse.

Art We Like

2009-11-10T17:18:00.001-08:00

The Fuse is delighted to announce the third of our new 'Artists in Residence'.

We are very lucky to be adding Mr Jonathan Freemantle, who counts HRH the Prince of Wales amongst his collectors.

The page is coming soon - and it promises to be a great addition to the site.

The Fuse

FUSE NEWS

2009-11-09T06:41:00.000-08:00

FUSE NEWS

Over the coming month The Fuse will be played to over 2 million people a week courtesy of Headland Music. Check this out:

http://www.headlandmedia.com/retail/unsignedartists/UnsignedArtists_features.html

We're also delighted to announce a new addition to our website:

ART WE LIKE

From tomorrow, you'll be able to view the best art around, courtesy of The Fuse. We will be profiling the work of Will Martyr and Alex Rooney, who will become our first Artists In Residence.

peace out!

The Fuse

p.s. if you're reading this and haven't signed up to the Prince's Rainforest Widget - do it!

Note To Site Visitors

2009-09-28T06:56:00.000-07:00

Dear Fans,

Due to teething problems with iLike, please DO NOT try to buy tracks from the iLike links.

Please buy using the buttons on the right hand side of the website, which link directly to The Fuse.

iLike have cocked our links up so at the momet they pull a blank. We're working on this but so far iLike haven't got back to us.

Many thanks.

The Fuse

Alex On A Saturday – The End Of The Beginning

2009-07-21T09:35:00.000-07:00

Dear All,

Many weeks have passed since the last edition of Alex On A Saturday, which is something I regret, but has been necessitated by the extremely involved process of preparing a pop-band for an assault on the music industry.

Yes, the past few weeks have been busy – we’ve played three festivals, done one radio interview, and recorded six new tracks. We’ve had a photo shoot, commissioned two new promo EP’s, and completed our first poster campaign. Our website is up and running! And we have an iPhone app.

These things don’t happen without a hell of a lot of time going in, and thanks need to go out to Jo Mirowski, our manager, for his efforts, and to Giuseppe di Lalla, who oversaw the construction of the website.

As I write, I’m sitting in Mount Pleasant studios, listening to the preparation of our backing tracks, which we will be unveiling at our gig on Saturday at the Monto. If you haven’t bought your ticket yet – stop reading this and get one before they all sell out!

So that’s where we’re at really. Its been a super hectic period, but I feel we’re nearly in shape for our Autumn campaign. Just a couple more bits to organize and then we’re shipshape.

Keep an eye on the website, lots more Fuse gigs coming up in the Autumn.

Alex On A Saturday - Sense And Sensuality

2009-06-22T03:08:00.000-07:00

Dear Readers,

my apologies for missing last week's Alex On A Saturday, I was away in Germany and it proved impossible to get a blog written. On my return, I was struck down with some kind of flu, from which I am pretty much fully recovered...

I was in Germany to attend a party - what else! The party was entitled 'The Roaring Twenties' and promised flapper girls, cocktails, and jazz bands, all set in a wonderful villa in Lüneburg, near the Danish border.

To do such a party justice I had to assemble a killer outfit - and our tale begins in Edinburgh....

+++++++++

I flew up to Edinburgh to attend the opening of South African artist Jonathan Freemantle's latest show. I've known Jon for years but we'd lost touch and having been really impressed by some of his recent work online I thought I'd take the opportunity of a couple of free days and a reasonably priced Easyjet flight to see his latest efforts.

I'd also discovered whilst costume researching that Edinburgh is home to one of the U.K's most impressive vintage clothing stores, easily eclipsing anything I've ever found in London and on a par with Los Angeles' 'Its A Wrap.' I think the mark of a great vintage store is that you can go in looking for something, and come out not only having found it, but also looking good. Its called Armstrong's, and its in the Grassmarket.

With the help of the lovely Beccy, this is exactly what happened, and I emerged after an hour delighted with my ensemble of tartan plus twos, cream woolen kilt socks, braces, a green army jacket from 1945, and a green beret with a wee bonny bobble. A picture speaks a thousand words and I'll soon be posting one up on The Fuse' new facebook site.

Jono's show was jaw-droppingly good, and a great success to boot, and we partied like you only can in Edinburgh. I met some great people, including a Russian girl named Asta who had a remarkable gift for accents and a voice like an opera singer - but that's another story.

+++++++++

The journey to Germany began at 2.45 on a Thursday morning. Booking a Ryanair flight for next to nothing always seems like a good idea at the time you do it - the enormous inconvenience of getting to Stansted is far off, as are the extra costs involved with taking Ryanair. Its classic modern thinking: buy now, pay later.

Five quid on a taxi to the station, five quid to get to Victoria, seventeen quid on the bus. So that's 27 quid on top of the flight before you even get to check in.

I was travelling with Adam, who had seen fit to prepare for the journey by drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Having slept on the coach, he was in that hellish state of deep, drunken fatigue that is unique to a combination of whiskey and 5.30 am, and he was ill-prepared for the ordeal to come.

We approached Ryanair's flash new automatic check in machines. Smart, I thought - cutting down on man hours and passing on the saving. Not so - I observed Adam muttering angrily under his breath and, braving it, went to investigate. A 20 pound surcharge from Mr O'Leary, for 'checking in.' Not a baggage charge - a check in charge.

I laughed - Adam and I are companions in Shaedenfreude, and in my half-witted state I assumed that Adam must have done something wrong in the booking process and that this charge could not possibly apply to everyone - that would be a bad joke, a sick piece of con-artistry more at home in the Sopranos. 'Ha ha', I chuckled, as Adam spat with rage and snatched his card back from the avaricious blue and yellow horror show.

I stepped confidently forward, card at the ready, but my last chuckle froze on my lips as I was informed that I, Alex Lato, would also be charged 20 pounds for the privilege of checking in.
Surely not, I gasped - impossible. 'You must be having a fucking laugh', I spat at the impassive screen - but to no avail. 47 quid and counting.

We approached the baggage handling area. It would be no exaggeration to say that Adam and I were both screwing. Fortunately the queue wasn't too long, and we weren't in a hurry, so we grumbled slowly towards the lady who was beckoning us. To my amazement she gave us a bollocking:

'You two are still asleep aren't you,' she gibed in good, honest, strong Essex. 'Where are your boarding cards?' she demanded. We fumbled around for a bit. 'Come on, we haven't got all day, you know.'

I mastered myself and produced my boarding card, a thin smile, and a half-hearted wise-crack. Adam wasn't having so much luck.

'Um, how many pieces of paper did you get from the machine dude?' he asked in a tone that hinted at the possibility that he had messed something up.

'Two pieces dude, how many do you have?'

'Um I've only got one.'

'Yeah man that's the receipt, you should have a boarding card as well - like this, see?'

We traipsed back towards the desks. I was quietly hoping that Adam would have to pay another 20 quid. It would make my own pain less severe. We walked over to the desk where there were people and Adam confessed his plight.

Disappointingly, he was able to get his boarding card at no further cost, and we spent our pre-flight time calculating how much money Ryanair were stealing, and how we would get even.

We reckoned firebombing one plane would just about cover it, and with revenge planned, we boarded the miserable Ryanair jet with its miserable unadjustable seats, and its miserable food at Waldorf prices. Arrival in 'Hamburg' Lubeck and another 9 quid to get to the city proper on a 75 minute coach ride.

55 quid extra to get there meant 55 quid to get back - 110 quid premium, in other words.

++++++++

The venue for the party was a steep-roofed red brick building accessed through a vast ex-army camp built in the 1920's to house tank divisions, and in its day it had been the officer's mess. We drove past walls stained black with diesel fumes, and it didn't take much to imagine the place heaving with men and machines on their way to war.

Nowadays it plays host to Lüneburg's ballroom dancing club, blessed as it is with a large varnished floor, some beer taps, and a caretaker called Carsten. Our challenge was to convert this enormous building into a venue suitable for a 170 strong party; we didn't have an enormous amount of period furniture to work with, and we didn't have much time.

So we set to it as best we could. Adam and I both have a history in event management so we were able to be useful, which was nice, as our hosts, the Fab 6 and Sabrina, organize wonderful parties every couple of years at which we normally only turn up and get drunk. It was good to feel helpful and I think we made a bit of a difference.

+++++++++

Party time, costumes on. The big lawn freshly mowed by Carsten, a task he had performed sitting on his mower with his legs hoiked up on the bonnet. We all liked Carsten, he was super helpful and even had his own vintage outfit to wear. He fitted right in.

The afternoon of the party was to be spent attempting to spend Reichsmarks. We were therefore all issued with 10k Reichsmarks, which we then spent on popcorn, candyfloss, penny sweets, cigars, and, most memorably, by betting on a sack race. In theory the money was going to buy a big prize of some kind, but in practice non materialised. As people realised this the value of the reichsmark disintegrated.

As an organiser I got to walk around with one of the penny sweet trays, and as a result talked to almost everyone at the party in my attempt to earn Reichsmarks. I charged outrageous prices - 5000 Reichsmarks for a small cigar. Bargain guv'.

Bartering is great fun, and I was interested to note that on the whole the girls drove a harder bargain. At a certain stage I met Kristina, who made me give her lots of sweets for free. She had the sweetest smile and beautiful big brown eyes and as I told her, I've always been weak in the face of beauty.

I wandered on, in my plus twos and Scottish bobble beret, beaming. Behind me were two green and white marquees dispensing punch, beer and cakes, staffed intermittently by girls wearing all sorts of beautiful period costume. To their right was a brass band playing jazz standards. Working round anti-clockwise, was a wooden frame which marked the end of the sack race. In front of me, a stall where people were throwing balls at cans, and finally, the start to the sack race between two stout trees, and the two Petanque pitches.

As soon as the sack race was announced the entire gathering lined the race course and gazed to their left at the assembled runners. The bookies did a roaring trade, and the strong favourite was an enormous German wearing a sailor's outfit. My money, however, was on the shortest man in the field, called Simon - I happened to know that Simon is a fitness fanatic who has calves like pistons. I confidently bet heavily in his favour.

I swear it felt like Ascot - bated breath under slinky hats, wild cheering at the off, and the comic thump of drunken men and women bouncing in Hessian sacks over the mole hills of this old German lawn.

And by God, could Simon bounce! His strategy was simple but brilliant - on account of his diminutive stature, he was able to tuck the sack into his trousers, thereby leaving his arms free to generate forward momentum, and two of his leaps happened in the time it took the enormous German to make one.

Rounding the bend, Simon was blatantly fouled as he crept and their were cries of anguish from his backers, who, to be honest numbered about 3. Miraculously he prevailed, stumbling in a cloud of dust over the finish line.

I was rich!

++++++++

Darkness fell slowly, and after a group photograph that caught the last of the light, we entered the ball room. On the left was a black curtain which housed a white screen, onto which were beamed various images of which I have no recollection whatsoever. In the left corner was a collection of black fake-leather sofas and some coffee tables where the drunker revellers would later seek respite.

On the right was the DJ booth and the bar, behind which hid three fridges rammed full of Becks and on which stood various bottles of spirits. Behind were the ballroom doors, uplit from the outside with yellow light. On the patio, gas heaters, and on the lawn, torches leading into a hidden distance.

It was spectacularly beautiful, and having charged our plates with hog and crackling myself, Adam, and our partner in crime known as Dan cunningly used benches to construct a table at which to eat.

I lit a fire in the fire basket I had prepared earlier, and before long we had a good blaze going. It was wonderful to have a fire at a party - not something I've managed before. Before long the warmth of the flames had attracted a good crowd and we sat companionably sipping our beverages, smoking, and talking whilst inside the dancers danced and the drinkers drank, and all of us lost ourselves in the eternity of possibility which all great parties succeed in creating.

+++++++++

My fire-starting activities had allowed my evening to progress gently, and I wasn't over-sozzled when I decided to take to the dance floor. My last outing in Germany had ended in acute embarrassment, and I was determined to pace myself and avoid this outcome on such a wonderful occasion.

So, I took it easy, danced gently with members of the fairer sex in a strictly ballroom fashion and generally attempted benevolence. Before long I found myself face to face with the very Kristina who had so enchanted me during my Reichsmark gathering, and being no great foot at ballroom I gingerly led her through a few moves before suggesting a trip to the bar.

Wonderful bars, bars where you can pour your own spirits.

Bumper gin and tonics, and a walk outside, where we were seduced by the light of the lanterns that led into make believe and the gentle touch of skin on skin.

And words lose their power - for none can do justice to the tenderness of those minutes spent side by side under the studded sky.

+++++++++

Adam got left behind at the venue - he waited at the wrong exit and missed the taxi. He arrived home having wandered drunkenly around for half an hour before finding a miracle taxi. He wasn't a happy boy.

The man known as Dan acted as timekeeper and reassured me as I fretted about the whereabouts of my passport. It did indeed turn up, but not before I'd spent a good hour wondering how exactly I was going to get home, and more importantly, how I was going to buy a new flight.

However, all's well that ends well and although Ryanair did indeed rip us off again - 20 quid to check in on the way back too - we were too hungover to blister about it. However, one comment by a fellow passenger sticks in the mind: 'they got us by the short and curlies here haven't they mate!?'

That and the sheepish German staff who were caught up in this robbery...

The Bike Crash

2009-06-22T01:40:00.000-07:00

Alex On A Saturday – Bike Crash

Saturday morning, 9.25 – nearing the end of a journey to Ladbroke Grove.

A nice morning, and a good ride. In so far as any vehicle with approximately 9 horsepower is going to be entertaining, the Vespa has been entertaining.

You find as a Vespa rider that there are things you can do which are much harder on a big bike – nipping through small spaces etc. This is entertaining, as all these guys with sports bikes are actually no quicker through traffic, and this aggravates them.

They always muscle in front when taking off from lights and then get screwed when things get tight. The emotion is a bit like driving a Mini Cooper through the gridlock in the Italian Job.

Unfortunately, stopping is a weak point, especially when combined with sharply swerving to avoid an old, elegant lady who steps out into the road in front of you.

I saw her and beeped, but alas, her reactions were too slow – and I can't help feeling that the shrill screech of the Vespa's horn might actually inspire paralysis rather than evasive action in some people. Our old lady, dressed in fur and sunglasses, peered myopically at me and didn't move.

Braking and turning is never a good idea. I felt the front end go and I hit the deck. Thought – right, I'm hitting the deck now.

Watch the bike slide away on the tarmac. No tinkle of broken glass – a good sign, I think as my slide comes to an end.

The old woman is standing there speechless. I ask her:

'What are you doing?'

My tone is one of surprise, pity – I'm not angry with her, and I don't shout or swear. I tut and shake my head. She looks like she's going to attempt some self-defense. I don't want to hear it – I'm calm and I don't want to hear bullshit and get stressed.

I walk off. There are of course bystanders. A group of lads wearing sunglasses. They ask me, am I alright? I consider – yes I'm fine, I say. I pick up my bike and pray it starts – its already cosmetically compromised, so I'm not really worried about the scratches.

It starts.

Sure you don't want to take a few minutes to chill out mate?

I consider – no I'm fine, I say – she just stepped out in front of me, I say.

I want confirmation.

Yeah mate, we saw it, it wasn't your fault at all, they say, nodding and tutting.

Thanks guys, I say.

I ride off.