October 2008
By Akira The Don on Friday, October 31st, 2008


— By Akira The Don on Friday, October 31st, 2008

By Akira The Don on Friday, October 31st, 2008



This is as great as you think it is. Tony always brings the ace.

He’s not the first to do this (sheeet, I did it back in ’04) But he’s the best.

DOWNLOAD: Ghostface Killah – Computer Love

Spotted at Nahright.

— By Akira The Don on Friday, October 31st, 2008

Friday, October 31st, 2008


Due to popular demand (I love saying that, especially when it’s true) I’m bringing back a limited run of Thanks For All the AIDS T-Shirts.

These will be in blue and red. A guaranteed conversation piece at any polite gathering!

Preorders will last but a week, and all come with one of these awesome Batblob badges.

38 millimetres, square.
Strong metal parts, with a steel pin back.
Distinctive, curvy surface that makes your image stand out.
Amazingly detailed, sharp print quality.

They arrived today, they’re beautiful.

The T Shirts cost £14.99. We take all major debit and credit cards, and ship worldwide.


To remind you why this is a good idea. Here for you, is the original album version of Thanks For All the AIDS, with the Chris de Burgh sample intact. Dude’s lawyers refused clearance, not dude. Dude told me himself.

Download: Akira The Don – Thanks For All The AIDS (NY Master)



— Friday, October 31st, 2008

By Akira The Don on Friday, October 31st, 2008


Sheet, this is gonna be crazy. Everyone needs to buy thsi book now, Jeff Wells is the greatest dot connector on the planet.


— By Akira The Don on Friday, October 31st, 2008

Friday, October 31st, 2008

Ola gang. Here’s an article I wrote for The Guardian on the train yesterday morning, that ended not going the Guardian as the editor was having a grump/meeting/cry/something and didn’t get to the right people until a day after it was written, by which time it was deemed obsolete. I  Deem it RELEVANT and NECESSARY, but I would. Anyway.


By me.

Due to a death in the family (that of my not-so-trusty PC) I’ve been forced outside, and onto public transport for much of the past week. An unfortunate circumstance, and one made all the more risible by my forced exposure to national media, in the form of God-sized Orwellian tele-screens in train stations, and the ubiquitous trash “newspapers” that litter afternoon and evening train carriages like so many shrieking turds.

Armed with fine literature, I have managed to avoid reading these things, but the images on the covers, and their accompanying hysterical headlines have burned their way into my subconscious, and my soul is all the filthier for it.

Here in the United States of Britainny, the great unwashed public are being whipped into a righteous frenzy – a terrible wailing and gnashing of teeth fills the air, and tens of thousands of our good people have used their telecommunications devices to call our institutions of outrage to demand justice. Overpaid nitwits have crossed the line, and the people want scalps.

And who are the poor, hapless recipients of this percolated rage? The bankists who’ve cursed our housing market, trashed our share prices and doomed our economy?

Of course not.

Once again, the rage of the populace has been queerly diverted, this time in the direction of a pair of comedians. Well paid, public-funded comedians. It has been decreed that quaint Limey chuckle-gatherers Jonathon Ross and Russel Brand are to suck up our national rage and sorrow, to take the fall for the crimes of the moneymen.

For my foreign brothers and sisters, and those who do their best to avoid such nonsense, here’s the skinny: a shit-storm of Biblical proportions has erupted this past week, over a practical joke made on BBC radio, in which the aforementioned comedians informed a fellow comedian, Andrew Sachs – Manuelle from Faulty Towers, no less – that legendary lothario Brand had bedded his granddaughter, a  burlesque dancer from the previously-unheard of Satanic Sluts troupe.

Sachs was very upset by this, and our proffesional media outlets decided that we should all be deeply incensed. Why, even our beloved prime minister felt it necessary to express his disgust at what he deemed, “inappropriate and unacceptable behaviour”, and demanded an immediate investigation.

“What’s funny about humiliating a lovely old man who has never harmed anyone in his life?” squealed the granddaughter, before heading off for another round of interviews, in which she demand the pair lose their jobs and get “no more publicity”. Ho Ho. As if dear Manuelle wasn’t a degenerate of the highest order, what with his gambling cover ups, rat stashing, corpse hiding antics (and how offended can a man whose drandoughter dances under the moniker “voluptua” in a bourlesque troupe called “Satanic Sluts” be anyway?). “Que,” indeed!

Regardless. There must, cry the papers, be blood! So Brand has been forced to resign, and Ross has been suspended.

The collections department at T-Mobile rang me to demand I pay my bill just now, and the man on the phone felt it necessary to inform me that Brand and Ross’ behaviour was completely unacceptable and wrong, especially as BBC employee Ross “is paid £6 million a year of our money to be obscene.”

Evidently, what we have here is a classic case of misdirected anger – like when Othello suffocated Desdemona with a pillow, instead of that rotten lying hyena Iago. As happens so often during times of extreme institutional fuckery, here we see a deceptively, and distractingly similar parallel narrative to what is undoubtably the most urgent story of our times.
Yes, our money has been misspent – on bailing out a crowd of lunatic, coke-fuelled, decadent greedheads, who no doubt at this very moment are rolling around naked in piles of damp red bills laughing until little bits of wee come out.

The actions of Brand and Ross are irrelevant – to even defend them is to miss the point entirely. Naturally, we are all sickened by the hierarchical greed and wholesale looting going on in this fair land, but we must not be distracted by false enemies. We must not lose sight of the true perpetrators of our woes, and they are definitely NOT comedians! Our foes are further from funny than a fourteen hour flight to Alaska with nothing but Little Britain on the tiny back seat television. They are Bankists and they Swine and their scalps Must Be Ours, and now!

So yes! Screw these rotten swine! Sack each and every one of them! Their behaviour is indeed wrong and inappropriate! Their bonuses must be revoked! Their parties cancelled! Their suits repossessed and made into blankets for the destitute! We must hunt them down like rabid curs and beat them like gongs!

Of course we must. Yet, madly, we are encouraged to demand the heads of a pair of broadcasters, funnymen. It is expected that after our five-minute hate we will feel better, and trudge on down to Iceland for our £5 meal-deals dutifully, until the warm fuzzy feeling bought on by public lynchings wears off, and we hear whispers of further real-life outrages, which will no doubt be offset by the revelation that there are paedophiles working in children’s television, then we can all go crazy again.

God forbid anyone whose actions have actual real world consequence feel our ire. Those people don’t need that kind of ugly scene – they have work to do. There’s still a few pennies left in the coffers to snatch.

— Friday, October 31st, 2008

Thursday, October 30th, 2008


I actually met Journey back in ’05 in a bar on Sunset Strip in LA. One of them came over and asked me and my producer, Danny Saber, and my A&R guy Jeff if we were a band. I said ‘yeah, kinda, how about you?’ Jeff was all like, shit dude, that’s Journey. They were like, ‘yeah man’. Well, it was guitarist Neil Schon and their singer, OG Journey genius Steve Perry’s replacement. I can’t remember his name. They were nice guys. We kicked it a bit. I was drunk and stoned on American Spirit cigarettes. The joint shut at 11 or something though, everywhere in LA did, that night. It was weird.

Anyway. Journey must have lost that guy somewhere along the way, because they’ve got another singer, the charming Arnel Pineda, and they found him on Youtube. This all happened at the end of last year, but I only just found out, and maybe you did too, eh? Here’s what happened, according to Neil:

I was frustrated about not having a singer, so I went on YouTube for a couple of days and just sat on it for hours. I was starting to think I was never going to find anybody. But then I found THE ZOO and I watched a bunch of different video clips that they had posted. After watching the videos over and over again, I had to walk away from the computer and let what I heard sink in because it sounded too good to be true. I thought, ‘he can’t be that good.’ But he is that good, he’s the real deal and so tremendously talented.

Check out this video of the guy doing Faithfully with his old band. It’s incredible.

— Thursday, October 30th, 2008