iamasherx-blog

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My first ever track. I've come so far since this. 2017 and my EP will be released soon. I am facing challenges, growing and getting better. I am becoming Asher X, or Asher X is becoming me.

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Dam hot girls

I never felt awkward atall. There's loads of girls, old and young passing through and the red lights made my skin look nice. I walked through all the tiny passages with girls of all shapes sizes and numbers out of ten. I went to a sex show which was a bit dear for what it was and the 2€ peep shows which basically has a girl spinning on a microwave plate in her underwear. I was just getting more curious and wanted to know how it all works what are the girls lives like? Are they sex slaves or what? I had an enlightening convo with a girl who use to work in the district in a coffee shop just off the main strip. So, prostitution is obviously legal in dam. But only in the buildings which are assigned and all of these are in the red light district. Girls are generally not human trafficked, I'm sure it was different back in the day and I'm sure a few slip through the net but most of the girls need a working visa and n.i number. To become a prostitute in Amsterdam (if you are thinking of a career change) you have to register yourself as a working girl at the town hall and become certified as self employed in this sector. Next find a chair, there's plenty to rent on some streets CHAIR FOR RENT was on every other boothe. Once you've got your place you have to work out your shifts and, because behind the curtain is just a small cubicle with a bed in it and nothing more. You have to bring your own "prostitute pack" - Johnnys, lube, towels pillows and anything you like. You can of course claim this back on your taxes. These are business women and they it as seriously as they want to. #nophotos 💷💷💷

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Buckie

Buckfast, Get ya fucked fast Rot ya gut fast. It was a mission to buy a bottle. None of the big supermarkets sold it, one lad told me it was banned back in 2005. A small Indian corner shop was where I found it, and it weren’t cheap either. The sign on the window read “BUCKFAST IS SOLD UNDER THE COUNTER DUE TO JUNKIES STEALING IT.” He went all David Copperfield on me and abracadabra- two bottles that are slightly on the small size and quite dear for an anti-social youth drink. £8.99 each, I might have got ripped off but even if it was half the price it’s nowhere near as cheap as a bottle of turbo white or even a pissy white wine. Buckfast has the ultimate good gone bad tale. It was born to the drunken monks of Buckfast abbey which take no responsibility to the actions of its Glaswegian drinkers. It became popular with Celtic fans and it does taste like church wine. The Buckie made me do it. The drink was mentioned in 5,638 crime reports in Strathclyde and 33-year-old Tracy Meikle from Glasgow was jailed for life for murdering 36-year-old Lorraine Foy while under the influence of Valium and Buckfast. One alcoholic spent £25,000 a year on Buckfast, that’s all he drank. The potent syrupy tonic wine contains of caffeine the same as 9 cans of coke. So let’s just say a bag of speed and a bottle of ginger wine. What’s that gonna feel like?What do the monks of Buckfast abbey do with themselves after a bottle of the stuff? Because Glasgow fight. An evening in autumn in Glasgow is beautiful; fresh and cold and clear and dark. Chapped faces, numb fingers. Scarves and wooly hats are already on. I start swigging, it’s easy to drink, and it’s sweet and a bit like sherry. One down, one to go. It’s a Thursday evening and not many people about, but it’s still rowdy. I’m feeling that uncomfortable weed induced paranoia mixed with a bit of acid reflux- not off to a good start. I find a little waterfall by the river in the middle of the city. Neck a couple of Rennies and crack the other bottle open, a gypsy and his girlfriend are sitting on the rocks behind me. Space cadet. My eyes are well alert. Wired is the word, my teeth are jittering and I’m confidently swaying. Wavy and gurning. Yes-I’m- gurning-off-alcohol. I do feel a bit agitated but I’m not at ASBO level yet. We head back into the central, I definitely feel awake. Wide awake and drunk. I could walk around all night but you won’t get a decent conversation out of me and I’m well past tipsy and chatty. Far gone. I walk over the bridge and end up below an abandoned tower block. The wind through the cracked windows make all the doors slam inside and it sounds like there’s people running through it. There’s a man sat on the floor smoking heroin off some foil and a couple of goths drinking beer on the burnt out park. My head spins. It’s a new feeling. A new drunk. The fresh cold air turns greasy from a joint selling battered mars bar, snickers and deep fat fried pizza. I que up, sheepishly. Mate keeps telling me I’m being too loud. I still feel fresh though. I get a battered snickers and a bag of very oily chips, plenty of salt and vinegar. The lights are too bright in there. Outside I take a bite. I look like a vegetarian eating a roast dinner. Fuck me I can’t even swallow this, I’ve got dry mouth and vie lost my appetite. Two bottles of Buckfast and I’m hungry but can’t eat, tired buy can’t sleep, pissed and wired, nervous and hyper. It’s only 9pm, my mate wants to go back to the hostel but I feel like staying out all night. Buckfast does get ya fucked fast.

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Written by Asher X Graphics and layout- Anna Karakeava for our new zine: Collective

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New stickers

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My new tattoo: MARDEH. Mardy written phonetically in a Leicester accent. Dedicated to my newest track, but first..... Where does this word originate from? Oxford dictionary: Sulky; moody. Origin Early 20th century: from dialect mard ‘spoilt’ (describing a child), alteration of marred (see mar). MAR.. impair the quality or appearance of; spoil. "violence marred a number of New Year celebrations" synonyms: spoil, ruin, impair So we say mardy as moody, but moody don't cut it as I suppose MARDY is also spoiled, mood, sulking and brattish combined. Keep an eye out for my new track called Mardy which will be featured on HQ Leicester's LION BARS Raaaaaaaa "Mardy if I don't get attention Mardy little shit was always in detention." "I was a mardy kid Cartoon Network all night till heavy eyelids."

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WOW

Women of the world festival coming up for International women's day. I will be performing with the amazing Deborah Debris Stevenson on a track she has asked me to feature on. This is exciting stuff, and Deborah is amazing to work with. I'm use to slouched shoulders and mumbling lyrics but this girl is on point and a refreshing contrast of professional and absolutely sick. I had a session with her at the Curve theatre before December she is so organised and gave me some wicked advise: diction, technique, direction and using oxygen. Watch this space as we get closer to the event.

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Napoli Bally flick by Peter Dimola Jordan

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Photography by Peter Dimola Jordan in Naples... Roof top shoot

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Fuck that year

I never know whether I should be grieving the year before or celebrating the new year on this day what's so empty.

It’s been a proper journey this year and I’ve written two new tracks in just the last week which, once recorded means my EP is complete.

All tracks on my EP will be produced Dise Beats, mastered by Harri Georgio and released and recorded through HQ recording.

The first one which I wrote at the beginning of the week looks back into what I have just been through and the second looks on to the future.

Head Injury

I woke up on October 25th 2015 to a text from the police: ‘Please call Leicestershire Police urgently to do with incident number 67’

My heart was throbbing, my bfs phone was off and I was in London in our flat- he had gone back to visit friends and family on his mams one year death anniversary. A thousand thoughts flowed through my head as to what may have happened- suicide? Family row? Anti social behaviour, I hoped he had just been arrested and I talked myself down as I was a natural worrier, and always thought the worst.

I was put on hold for 15 minutes before I was told that my bf was in Queens medical centre with a severe head injury, blood clot, hemmorage and was currently being operated on- it was likely he wouldn’t make it off the operating table.

I threw up, spun out and somehow managed to get my clothes on and get out. I bumped the tube to the train station and bumped the train to Notts, I hid in the toilet roaring my eyes out for 2 hour journey.

I had no money and my phone had died after a few phone calls to his family who had let me know he was out the operation but it weren’t looking good.

I bumped a taxi to the hospital, I basically apologised before running out and straight up to the ICU.

There my bf, best friend, child hood sweetheart was lying on life support in a coma. A massive part of his skull had been removed to allow the brain to swell and he had tubes coming out of everywhere. The nurses kept checking to see if his pupils would dilate to make sure he hadn’t gone brain dead. I was petrified.

I felt so so sick, where are ya? I thought

That night was fucking horrendous. Me, his dad and cousin stayed in the family room but I couldn’t sleep I was hovering around the doors of the ICU like a ghost trying to look in to see him.

The next two weeks was long, he lay comatosed, he had a mad fever that wouldn’t cool down without a cooling blanket which is basically a massive cooling blanket lay on him, he had numerous CT scans as they thought he may have had another bleed, blood would pour out of his nose and he wasn’t able to come off the breathing machine.

The only thing that got us through was that he had so many friends and such a big family, people were sending messages like every minute. Sending pictures, cards and there were so many visitors, we definitely wernt alone.. But without him I felt it. Whilst he was comatosed he kept doing strange things which made me think he would wake up at some point. He kept trying to pull his breathing tube out and catheter so they put some huge mits on his hands and he were doing sparring with them in his sleep. One day I was holding his hand and I swear he started doing the action of one, two, three, four I declare thumb war!!! I more aless squatted in the broom cupboard (visitors room) until they finally clicked on that I never gave them the key back and they kicked me out. I started staying in a hotel in notts was strange going back there at night and seeing the whole city I never felt so insular.

Then one day he woke up- but it wernt like in the films. He didn’t wake up be say “what’s happened?” No, he woke up with post traumatic amnesia and delerium, he suffered delusions and severe confusion.

A few things he thought and said:

That Jimmy Saville was hiding in the hospital

That he had given birth to a baby called canderel ( artificial sweetener that the man in the bed next to him used)

That people were stealing organs

That I was his bit on the side

He wanted the nurses to pay him for being there

He thought people were having parties in the hospital rooms

And that his aunties fish and chip shop was at the end of the corridor

And that he could walk and run when actually he was paralysed one side down. I actually found him swimming on the floor one day.

He had fixations like obsessing about going to the toilet and asking for morphine.

The saddest thing ever was that he had forgot his mum had died and couldn’t retain it when we told him that she wasn’t here he would ask where she was every day for about a week and a half.

Eventually after two months stay in the brain injury unit and lots of vigorous physio he got better and was able to come home, he could walk better and no longer had delusions.

We got our own place early 2016 after a month at his dad’s house.

So for the last year, I’ve been worrying my ass off as been with someone who had half of skull missing, so fucking fragile, only one fall in the wrong direction and it could leave him brain dead.

What a head fuck-

I bubble wrapped the bed.

I went mental.

He was quite mental aswell, he’d run off or try and stab himself with a knife through frustration.

And then his next op came, it felt like had signed his life away when he put his name next to form that said chance of death, bleed, stroke…. But it had to be done.

And it was a success and my new year began then really. I was finally free of being a carer and could go back to being a girlfriend.

He got back to being a man.

So my first track was about the bad times.

You were my first luv my childhood. Cut arms swap blood The only one that understood. We were both no good Doctors and them dodgy looks My Baby’s been fucked up

And my new tracks about looking forward.

Right now could breath life into a mortuary Souls evolutionary I’m unlocked like padlock and key High notes like b4 before me, I’ve got the heavens opening like labour knees See my spark like lightening seed

Happy new year, I know it is for me…

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My Christmas day diary

Dear Kitty  Pussy,

Morning- Get woke up by a dog what didn’t even know it was Christmas but was well excited for the day, maybe she needed a piss?

Crazy ass kids came in and opened the wrong presents but turns out the lad likes a doll so we gave him that

Had a non alcoholic beer just to fit in. A morning 0 percent beer WOW

My diabetic Nana came round and ate a whole box of truffels before dinner

Nice munch, this year we ordered bare stuff from MNS and mam made a gammon, boiled in coke, the sugary beverage not nose corrode- you cheeky bastard. It was like crack tho

My dad forgot to pay for the Marks and sparks food, he aint that sort thought dont get the wrong impression, hes got a job

Me and my mother went out for a sneaky fag in the alley whilst my gran digested 

Now im stoned and that turkey is doing butterfly stroke in my lower intestines

Im going deep on everything. Jesus, films are well better when they’re watched on the TV Ive got this film on DVD but that feeling of togetherness like the whole nation is watching this together and when I wake up tomorrow I can go out and chat with the lass at the newsagents about it. “How funny is it on Inbetweeners when hes finger fucking that girl what fell asleep at the hostel?” “No?” “Not funny no?”

Nah, its nowt like that is it its cus you don’t have to go fiddling with scart leads and that at the back of the TV trying to put the DVD player on, hot breath on the DVD trick and all that. You lazy cunt

Dont forget its also Jesus’ birthday today.

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Anti-Christ Mas

Yuletide, a big fat fuck off to Santa? Or maybe Santa is just a big fat red anagram of Satan. Winter solstice, or Yuletide is when the sun meets 0 degrees Capricorn? Trippy or what…Like quarter past lampshade… Them Satanists be like: “we enjoy the richness of life and the company of people whom we cherish at Yuletide as we will often be the only ones who know where the traditions really came from!” Sounds spot on to me. There is a blood/ sex ritual involved though. Happy Christmas & Happy Yuletide.

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11 o'clock with Berkavitch

Just at the Curve meeting up with John Berkavitch so hopefully he can shed some light on the art of performance. Not like what I do on stage which is somewhat neurotic.

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Spoken word by me Photography- Inside Trelic by peterdimolajordan.tumblr.com

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Few years back, eyebrows skinnier, body skinnier, hair lighter.

But still I love the way he photographs me, candid camera he catches me in the moment that I have forgot his fat Cannon lens sticking out at me.

Love how fags pull in your cheekbones.

Hate how they make your breath and lungs stink.

peterdimolajordan.tumblr.com

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Performing my shit at Anerki, LCB Lesta. I performed "Grey" "Bleak" "Ghost" and "Dystopia" Check out my Youtube channel Asher X to listen to recorded versions of these. Not studio recorded mind you I'm talking phone in my car stylee.

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Not a snake you can’t charm me. I’m gold you can’t tar me. Worship me, kumari. Wavy, tsunami. 🌊

Asher X