Tweedy rider

After being interested in the combination of tweeds and bicycles for a while now, Lord Bassington-Bassington has finally become a pedal-powered gentlehound. His Lordship has acquired of an absolutely beautiful bicycle from Swedish manufacturer Pilen, who combine impeccable quality with small-scale manufacture and lovely, un-modern design.

Ladies and gentlemen, meet Cycelina!

With such a lovely means of conveyance comes a strict demand for matching clothing. And even if Lord Bassington-Bassington is know for being rather thick-headed, he still needs to protect his skull against falls. But as we all know, most bicycle helmets make you look like you've stuck a plastic bucket on your noggin. Luckily, there are exceptions, such as this model, which is definitely a bit more stylish. Even if the manufacturer's suggestion (as in the picture below) that one sport it without appropriate neckwear is, of course, abhorrent.

Yes, the helmet does make Lord Bassington-Bassington look a bit hydrocephalic. But for someone who has had Tod Browning's Freaks as a formative experience, this is not a drawback.

The question, though, is what sort of tweedy cyclist style to adopt. Should one go for a more subdued look?

Or should one go full tweedtard?

A lordly portrait

Lord Bassington-Bassington's dear friend Fraulein Frost isn't just great with tasting drinks. This is her portrait of a certain Lord. Who is currently galloping around Bassington Manor, all ears flapping with joy.

How can His Lordship not wear a bow tie tomorrow? One with little skulls, perhaps?

A toast to the sun

With Lord Bassington-Bassington's appreciation for Tiki culture, and penchant for creating drinks in honor of people that inspire him, it was only logical that His Lordship would start making drinks to go with his favourite bands. And as Lord Bassington-Bassington's favourite bands have a tendency to operate within the field known as neofolk, there were bound to be some strange things happening.

Neofolk and Tiki culture might not seem like natural bedfellows to most folks, even the rare individuals who happen know what both neofolk and Tiki culture are. But frankly, after enough rum-based drinks anything can be natural bedfellows.

And to Lord Bassington-Bassington, the place where national romanticism (a key ingredient in neofolk) and faux-Polynesian pop culture collide is a heavenly kitschy and very inspiring place. Call it - why not? - National Roman-tiki.

So it it with a certain pleasure (and a certain level of inebriation) that we here at the Lord Bassington-Bassington Chronicles present the recipe for the Solblot, the drink in honor of the band of the same name. As Solblot is possibly the most Swedish band in existence, the idea was to create a drink that was equally Swedish, but still recognizable as a Tiki drink.

Solblot
3 cl Blue curaçao
5 cl White grapefruit juice (freshly squeezed)
1 cl Lemon juice (freshly squeezed)
3 cl white rum (such as Havana Club Anejo Blanco)
3 cl Mead (preferably from Uppsala...)
5 cl ginger ale (with a real ginger bite, such as Fentiman's)
1 cl Bombay Sapphire gin
A pinch of ground rosemary seeds

Shake all ingredients (except ginger beer) in a shaker with ice cubes until chilled. Pour, strained, into a glass, transparent Tiki mug or reproduction 12th century drinking horn packed with crushed ice. Stir in ginger ale. Garnish with a slice of lemon in the shape of a Northern sun and various other yellow accoutrements, such as yellow rose leaves or teensy-weensy runes carved from lemon peel.

Drink while enjoying some appropriate listening and reading.

His Lordship would like to credit Fraulein Frost with the brilliant idea of adding rosemary - a perfectly Northern touch - to the Solblot. And thank Lady Mju for pictorial assistance, and the people who helped taste the drink while it was being developed.

A special thanks goes to the staff here at Bassington Manor who helped clean up the mess made by His Lordship. Basset paws are good for many things, but complicated shaking procedures are not one of them.

So - which is the next band that should be given the Tiki treatment?

On collecting Lovecraftiana

"Is this the final exorcism/Of an obsession"

As someone who, well, loves H.P. Lovecraft, and has a tendency to gather small topical book collections, Lord Bassington-Bassington has acquired a decent assortment of books related to The Gentleman of Providence through the years. So it shouldn't be surprising that there is a separate bookshelf here at Bassington Manor dedicated to Lovecraftiana: Writings by Lovecraft, about Lovecraft, inspired by Lovecraft and writings that inspired Lovecraft.

One could perhaps lay down the claim that this is the largest collection of Lovecraftian titles in Norway, and invite challengers to a geek-off. But the question is whether this shelf is something to be ashamed rather than proud of. There are plenty of times that Lord Bassington-Bassington has felt that his Lovecraft obsession was a bit of an embarassment.

One could, you know, become a minor expert on some author that normal adults have actually heard of.

Then after all, His Lordship didn't choose to become obessed with Lovecraft - Lovecraft chose him.

So perhaps this post is as much an attempt to gather Lord Bassington-Bassington's thoughts about collecting Lovecraftiana. Some thinking about this is a real necessity these days, when the market is flooded by books cashing in of the fact that the copyright to The Gentleman of Providence expired a few years ago. The growing interest in Lovecraft in popular culture (especially films) also contributes to this. Perhaps a few words about His Lordship's collection of Lovecraftian DVDs later.

The trick, as in so many other things, is to know when to stop. Much of what is released is, frankly, so Dogawful that it's a waste of money and shelf space to buy and store it, and a soul-killing effort to actually read it. The trick is to search out the gems. This will be even more important as the Lovecraftian juggernaut rolls on.

So there, dear reader, you have it. Lord Bassington-Bassington's shelf of shame. Or pride. Or whatever. Now let's see if something similar can be done with Lord Bassington-Bassington's collection of style books...

Standing in one circle

Lord Bassington-Bassington's title is, sadly, not recognised by DeBrett's or any similar registry of nobility. In fact, it's hardly recognised by anyone at all. So when His Lordship waddles around the Township of Little Storping-in-the-Swuff, where he should be Lord of the Land, the comments from passersby tend to be along the lines of "look at that silly dog!" and "eeeeew, he drools!" Shocking, of course. But such is the modern world.

Luckily, there are some people who have a certain fondness for their slightly eccentric Lord, and bestow upon His Lordship small token of appreciation. One of these exemplary individuals is Superfritz, one of the humans His Lordship really admires.

The principle of "Noblesse oblige" dictates that a Lord show proper thankfulness. So here is a small, Interwebular thank-you note for one of the most charming gifts Lord Bassington-Bassington has ever receives: A combination of three of his favourite thing in a pocket-sized package.

What do you get when you combine droopy-eared canines, that wonderful fabric known as tweed, and design by Jeremy Hackett?

You get the veritable trinity of joy pictured below.

Frolicking in fields of green corduroy. Also by Hackett, incidentally.

Thank you, Superfritz! You are a true Germanic gentleman!

Uncle Monty remembered

Rest in peace, Richard Griffiths OBE. While you were known for your many roles in blockbusters such as the Harry Potter series, there is one role in particular that has forever secured a place for you in Lord Bassington-Bassington's heart. Hence this tiny tribute to such a grand man.



For the record, His Lordship would like to distance himself from the anti-Felinic sentiments expressed by Uncle Monty.

A neofolk library

Lord Bassington-Bassington is rather fond of books, and has a tendency to collect small topical libraries. And as His Lordship likes neofolk music, it was only logical that the bookshelves here at Bassington Manor should contain a few books about, and related to, the genre.

So the following is simply a catalogue of His Lordship's small collection of neofolk books, with potted reviews of each title.

Looking for Europe: Neofolk und Hintergründe
By Andreas Diesel and Dieter Gerten
(Index/Promedia, 2007)

This huge tome (530 pages) is nothing less than the definite work on neofolk. Written by two fans, it gives an in-depth treatment of the music and the ideas that float around in it. Indispensable for anyone interested in the genre.

Best bits: All of it, really. This is the ABC of neofolk.
Worst bits: A tendency to shy away from problematic political issues.

Death in June: Verborgen unter Runen
By Aldo Chimenti
(Plöttner Verlag, 2012)

This big volume is the German edition of a book that was originally in Italian, and thus unreadable for Lord Bassington-Bassington, who lacks the most basic competence in Latin languages. This is surely the definitive work on neofolk pioneers Death in June, and contains a wealth of material about related projects.

Best bits: Fabulous design and wealth of pictorial material.
Worst bits: Overly florid writing (look who's talking...)

The Matter of Britain
By Keith and Matt Howden
(Post Romantic Empire, 2009)

Violinist Matt Howden, usually operating under the name Sieben, should be a familiar name to neofolk aficionados. What might be less widely know is that his father, Keith, is a poet. The Matter of Britain is a beautiful little book which contains a cycle of Howden the elder's poetry, dealing with Arthurian themes, and a CD of Howden the younger's music.

Best bits: Howden jr's recollection of his father finding him, age 15, dead drunk in a shopping cart.
Worst bits: The introduction is perhaps a bit academic in places.

Ästhetische Mobilmachung: Dark-Wave, Neofolk und Industrial im Spannungsfeld rechter Ideologien
By Andreas Speit (ed.)
(Unrast Verlag, 2006)

An anthology highly critical of neofolk, mostly from a leftist perspective. Published in 2006, it is of course quite outdated at this point, which. Case in point: One of the most criticised groups, martial industrialists Der Blutharsch, has since morphed into a psychedelic hippie band.

Best bits: An interesting attempt at an ideological critique of the neofolk environment...
Worst bits: ...which sadly suffers from leftist lopsidedness.

Above us the Sun
By Tony Wakeford
(Tursa, 1994)

Above us the Sun is simply a collection of lyrics by Tony Wakeford, the mastermind behind Sol Invictus and Twa Corgies. The book is housed in a nice little slipcase and comes with a 3-track CD. A true cult object.

Best bits: Wonderfully self-deprecating introduction by Mr. Wakeford himself.
Worst bits: Wonderfully stupid introduction by writer Stewart Home (who has since tried to dismiss his contribution as some sort of joke).

Death in June: Misery and Purity
By Robert Forbes
(Jara Press, 1995)

This account of Death in June is intensely personal and intensely speculative, which is fine for a few pages but becomes tiresome and annoying. This book is mostly a curiosity, really.

Best bits: Lots of photo sections and news clippings.
Worst bits: The author's endless exegesis of Douglas P's lyrics.

Blood Axis: Day of Blood
By Max Ribaric
(Occidental Congress, 2008)

A work solely devoted to the (in)famous neofolk outfit Blood Axis. A must for any obsessive neofolk fan. And is there any other kind?

Best bits: Lots of pictures.
Worst bits: Text in Italian, which Lord Bassington-Bassington can't understand a word of.

Sadly missing from the collection is David Keenan's excellent England's Hidden Reverse: A Secret History of the Esoteric Underground. The combination of being out of print for a decade and appealing to slightly – there's that word again – obsessive people has led to it changing hands for ridiculous prices on eBay and Amazon. Luckily, a reprint is planned and Lord Bassington-Bassington has it on pre-order.

But we advise you to not crack jokes about His Lordship's own obsessive tendencies. For anyone intimating that the bookshelves here at Bassington Manor have a few too many tomes of Lovecraftiana or titles about style might end up getting a taste of Lord Bassington-Bassington's jaws.