Ainslie Henderson <ainsliehenderson>


www.ainsliemusic.com
www.myspace.com/ainsliehenderson

Bookings, press, etc, please email ainsliesite@gmail.com or call 07092 878649

i was not always like this. i dont know when it started. when i was a kid my mother made me wear a pair of leather school shoes with pointed toes ,i hated them. they were an embarrassment, all the other kids had trainers, i remember trying to explain to my mum that the shoes were too 'posh'. she wouldn't listen, so one day on my way home from school i took them off and threw them into the river. i told my mum they had been stolen. she spanked my arse.

Ainslie Henderson says:

"are you the farmer?" (87 weeks ago) me too! | Reply
Genre
Acoustic
Indie

Label
Amphibian Husbandry
Self Published

URL
http://www.bebo.com/ainsliehenderson

Profile Created
November 2007

Profile Views
1208 times

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  • we are their midges, we are their mice.

    The latest drunk mum album starts with panting and whooping and the noise of me and jos conjuring dizzy excitement. and then out of the noise of time in an artery comes a clowns' birthday party. sheep eating magic mushrooms and having a telepathic argument. one sheep is telling the other about the abattoir and the other sheep is saying 'you don’t scare me'. piss off. and then a pop song from outer space. a senile tambourine. Everything goes white grey, white, grey. and two train tracks sing an imaginary harmony. the power lines that shoot alongside you like laser beams when you're travelling on the train at 100 miles an hour, staring out the window, and they dip and weave and zip for you, like dolphins swimming alongside your boat. then for a few bars are as perfectly still in their moving as a well centred pot turning on the wheel. they plunge into the ground. Cells yearning. Swifts catching insects. Trees aware of us and our lives, blip. blip. blip. the life span of a human passing in what to them seems like days. We are their midges. We are their mice. The sound of fingernails growing, a microscopic microphone gathers and steals it, simmers it down and amplifies it a 1000 times, it tries to escape quickly back into the deep and is caught in a distortion box. like a fat slippery fish in an angler's hands. a radio remembering its first words, or finally escaping all stations and finding its own voice. Running over a frog with a lawnmowERRRRR. and having renewed faith in vegetarianism. Envy extracted from a heart like a tapeworm being wound round a pencil. a cow's nightmare. the ambition of an acorn. The noise of coca cola on children's teeth. well. well, a calendar asking when will tomorrow get here? a genetically engineered new emotion. monkey love experiments. the place that we find at about 24 minutes. god bless drunk mum. is noise unordered music? are drunk mum the greatest band in the world ever?, ever ever?, I heard someone say that art is paying attention. Yesterday a bus on a wet road passed me, I almost said out loud, 'oh, that sounded lovely'. It went ccccccaashhhhhhhhh. sssss. sssssss. sssssss. Like as above, so below at the end goes bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
     zz. shh.

    1 Comment 43 days

  • my bedroom smells of bonfires.

    This time last night I was lying in the woods, in the rain, in layers of warm clothes, staring at the opening of a badger's den. Thinking that it might mask our own noise, we were thankful for the sound of rain. I don't know if it wasn't enough, but badgers never arrived. we'd heard from a reliable source that wild animals are blind to light shone through a red filter at night. Maybe an eerie red light glaring from through the trees could seem discouraging. it was a good excuse to go sit in the forest in the dead of night and be reminded what the world sounds like really, underneath our audio litter. I'm still a bit travel sick from the bus ride home. sick four hours there and four hours back. like a right of passage to and from the underworld. My friends' little hut on the west coast. It's one of my favourite places. Like a tree house on the ground. no electricity. or running water. just a log fire and a gas cooker, and a water pump for pumping water that collects in a barrel from the roof. and a view like the most fantastic flying dream. Tree tops and water, land far enough on the other side to change through Scottish weather like songs shift on the radio. log baskets that must be filled. there are primal things of lifting and chopping and burning normally stolen from us under illusions of short cuts and conveniences. Dials or push buttons. but I do love my laptop. and digital camera. and pizza sometimes and coffee. and stuff. yes I love the stuff too. what do we do? sit in the mud and say I have rid myself of worldly desire. want for nothing, wait for enlightenment? there is a lot I can do without. and there's something about cutting up wood and putting it on a fire. to warm water. to cook. that stuff. we planted oak trees that will be growing 300 years after I'm dead. When it's so hard to be sure of anything, it's comforting to think 'planting trees is a good idea'. and to spend a weekend tending those you planted last year is a good idea too. it's dawning on me too that this record that I've started making, like the spindly oak trees in plastic tubes, is really another seedling from the hut on the west coast, and what a lovely place for a record to be born.

    http://i61.photobucket.com/albums/h5...
    http://i61.photobucket.com/albums/h5...

    2 Comments 56 days

  • do birds still use bird feeders in the summer?

    I miss my life. and I don’t know where it is. I am full of organic potato and stilton. my blessed little man boobs are coming on a treat. contentment threatens from the end of every finger. but old joys and new hopes loom like bindweed in the soil, stubborn and determined. it’s in the spring, like now, when the sun takes ages to go down, it darkens less and less. I wonder what was it that I wanted? what was it that I thought was on the way?, should I still be looking for that?, the shadow shape a dream leaves in your head. I lay in the same position in my bed, still because if you move to catch it, you lose it quicker still. I don’t know. maybe I should put some more butter on my potato and have a bottle of wine. I miss my life. where did it go. and what is this? funny fake film between me and it. search engine. someone said that hope is the feathered thing that perches in your soul. It's as easy to frighten as the birds that flirt with the feeder I’ve hung outside my window. do birds stop coming to feeders in the summer?, is it just a winter trick?. I’ve noticed them waking me in the morning less and less. and god knows I need as many things as I can get to wake me in the morning.

    http://i61.photobucket.com/albums/h5...

    1 Comment 83 days

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  • The Music Network
    The Music Network

    Hey! Come check us out. the place to be to network with people within the music community :D

    2 weeks ago
  • Sara
    Sara

    hey hey hows u??? i deleted my myspace, miss ur songs, theres always utube my fav videos are fine fine waitress, butcher, old men, n a letter to gordon brown!!! :L :L :L xxxx

    6 weeks ago
  • Michelle McLaughlin 8 weeks ago
  • Rachel
    luv Rachel

    Ainslie, when's Beanscene fun happening again?

    11 weeks ago
  • Amey Janey
    Amey Janey

    I did wonder where you had gone to Mr Henderson :) . Im still loving the songs :)

    11 weeks ago
  • Moonpig-Dot-Com.
    Moonpig-Dot-Com.

    Hi Ainslie!

    luv the songs on ur album! and the songs you wrote in the academy :D

    I Need Reminded and Dust on ur album are my faves :D
    Coming Up For Air is awesome too!

    Any gigs in Glasgow soon? x

    12 weeks ago
  • Natalie Swinfen
    luv Natalie Swinfen

    hey ainslie

    just wondering if u've got any gigs in glasgow coming up soon??? missed the drawing room lastime aaaaargh!

    x

    16 weeks ago
  • David
    luv David

    run away with me?

    22 weeks ago
  • Carol.
    Carol.

    Hey,
    :)

    Just had an urge to pop on and saying hello.
    Don't know why, just felt like it.
    Hmm.

    x

    29 weeks ago
  • Dominique
    Dominique

    Hi ainslie,
    i was wondering if you are doing any gigs in glasgow anytime soon?
    my little ears want to hear your lovely music live and its a pitty because it has been such a long time....
    it would be very kind of you if you could let me know if you are if aren't too busy.

    Dominique
    x

    29 weeks ago
  • Little Miss Sunshine
    luv Little Miss Sunshine

    Ainslie! I actualy loved u! My granny got ur signature in the jedburgh co-op, thats where i used to stay! My real dad also works beside ur mum in the kiltmakers, and u used to work beside my uncle chris! I also went to jedburgh grammer school...like u!! U were amazin at the fame acadamy tour stil hav ur sngs on thee ipod! U and malachi werf so funy, especialy as the old me! X x x x

    30 weeks ago via Mobile
  • Rowan
    luv Rowan

    If Braes basement won't take you...RoSeangle basement will ;)
    Either way, Dundee needs some Ainslie...

    48 weeks ago
  • Lanna
    luv Lanna

    OK I am slightly confused....

    On your official website it says your playing a gig in Dundee in October. I called the venue to see how to get tickets.....and they didn't even know about it.......

    HELP ME!! I want tickets!!!!

    xxx

    52 weeks ago
  • Yvonne G
    luv Yvonne G

    hey ainslie

    I no u said u never check this but thought i'd leave u a wee message anyway!! thought u were amazin last night (sorry for acting so stalkerish :L ) I am emailing jo whiley as we speak 2 get u in live lounge - would love that!! (but if u get on radio 1 because of my email u so need 2 come 2 my 30th next year :) :L )

    keep smiling and having fun - i'm off 2 order my mug now...make it a good yin

    xyx

    53 weeks ago
  • Natalie Swinfen
    Natalie Swinfen

    See u at sauchiehall street on the 22nd :)

    54 weeks ago