Wednesday 21 March 2012

When the red light is on all debauchery must cease

I was standing in the Lomax late on Saturday night, sweaty and not wearing any trousers feeling very pleased with myself, despite having cocked up the beginning of the last song, just like I said I would. Next time I might try saying “I will now play this song perfectly” and see what happens. Probably end up setting myself on fire or falling out of a moving vehicle or tipping scalding hot soup into my lap or getting my head caught in a bear trap.

The sound was brilliant, all the bands were superb, the crowd were lovely and we wiggled our fingers, flapped our jaws and waved our arms in the correct ways to get the music to come out. We managed to assemble a top notch-bill again and they all put in great performances. Well done Faded Gold, So Sexual and Dass Unser and also to Frank and his excellent team at the Lomax. Kings and Queens all.

Despite starting the musical preparations at about half past three in the afternoon and spending a fair amount of time walking backwards and forwards through the St Patrick’s Day revellers whilst carrying our heavy pieces of equipment, by the time I got on stage I was feeling remarkably chipper. I got my second wind somewhere between the stroke of ten and plugging in my guitar. Of course, if you had drawn me aside and offered me a comfy chair, a cup of tea and a slice of cake then I don’t know what would have happened but it wouldn’t have been rock and it wouldn’t have been roll.

What could be counted as rock and roll was the amount of hairspray I had used to keep my wayward barnet in good order. Earlier that day I had decided to get another haircut but, breaking with tradition, I didn’t go in, slump in the chair and express in exasperated terms that all I wanted was for them to make me beautiful. This time I went to a place on Picton Road run by a nice chap called Ken. I said “take an inch off all of it” and he did just that. Who would have thought it could be that easy? Satisfied with the job he had done I decided that I would get the damn thing to obey me for once, so I subjugated it brutally.

Another thing that might qualify was the colour of nail varnish I decided to use. Not sure of the name, but it matched my tie, which is the colour of lip stick worn by women of ill repute in BBC 2 dramas from the 1980s. You know the sort of thing, the colour of lip stick on investment bankers’ shirt collars and on the rim of martini glasses. Dennis Potter would probably have approved.

Reading back over those two paragraphs makes me wonder whether I have any repressed issues that need addressing. I’m thinking no.

Hairspray and red might make you think I looked like Robert Smith. I did not look like Robert Smith. Saw him on the telly the day after the gig and came to the conclusion that his hair isn’t quite what it used to be. It was all grey and wispy and I’m sure it kept going in his mouth whilst he was singing. I’m not one to ever say to or about another person that they should get a hair cut, but Robert, darling, I know this guy who’ll take an inch off it all and it will look faaaabulous.

So after the gig, back upstairs, getting out of my suit, I found myself trouserless , sweaty and pleased. Not in the way you’re thinking, I was by myself. And not in that way either. For gawd’s sake. I’m a human being not a lump of meat.

A lump of meat with a cracking ass. I digress.

When I came back down all the new EPs were gone, most of the people were gone and we had to begin the process of lugging stuff back round the corner to Crash Studios. Whilst I was carrying my guitar amp’s speaker cabinet I got stuck behind too slow moving lesbians with matching Mohawks. They apologised when they noticed me huffing and puffing behind them, which was very nice. The same can’t be said for the pile of botoxed and silicone boobed harridans heaped on the corner by the Lisbon who were swaying backwards and forwards and shrieking and shrieking and shrieking and shrieking and shrieking and shrieking. They just stood there swaying, an immovable Wall of Crass. I would have ploughed through the middle of them, but they seemed to tessellate so perfectly there was no gap or crevice to be seen.

As it were..

So I went around, stepped in a puddle of something icky and lumpy and cursed St Patrick and all his little wizards. Later that night I drank a glass of Château Neuf Du Pap and praised Satan for inventing the custard doughnut.

I think that sums it up perfectly.  

Wednesday 14 March 2012

I am inviting molestation wearing these dungarees


I have in my hand a copy of our new creation – Kompressor the EP. I’m very pleased. It’s a quality piece of merchandise for sure.

It would not be going too far to say that making it was the most enjoyable time I have ever spent in a recording studio. I don’t tend to like recording studios; they’ve never been the most welcoming of places I find. You do your turn and beetle off to a corner and do something unobtrusive until the grownups are finished. Thankfully Andy is nice and patient and even tolerated me taking forever to do simple things properly.

Looking back over the past 2 and a bit years we have produced a lot of stuff for an unsigned band. Including the Kompressor EP, we’ve recorded and released 19 songs, all beautifully packaged and presented. There’s not a lot of people can say that. Lots of videos on youtube as well. I’m proud of what we’ve done and I don’t say that lightly. Sometimes it has been a bit frustrating because it seems that we don’t get the attention I think we deserve, but then I am biased. You’ll forgive me for that, you always do and that is because you’re a good person.

That’s why it has been particularly gratifying to have seen some good previews for the EP Launch gig this Friday in the Lomax from Sevenstreets, Double Negative and Bido Lito as well as getting a mention on Dave Monk’s Radio Merseyside show and being unsigned band of the week on Chris Currie’s show on 7 Waves Radio. That’s more attention then we’re used to and it feels really good.

Hopefully people will come along and have a great time. It’s a top notch bill and you’ll be walking away with a lovely EP. What would be even better is if everyone who took a CD came and found us on facebook and soundcloud, downloaded some more music and let us know they were enjoying it. I don’t see anything wrong in saying we all need a little affirmation now and again. 


Of course, if you’re feeling generous or you just can’t hold it in I’m always open to adulation, worship and reverence. If you feel the need to touch me you can. I have healing properties. My bath water can heal the blind and cure dysentery. Doves love me, as do rabbits and ponies. Walt Disney based Snow White on me and I have a cracking pair of buttocks.


For all these reasons and more I urge you to come and do something worthwhile with your Saturday night. Come to the Lomax, feel the warm glow of my glory, bask in it. Maybe tell someone you love them and then kiss them, with tongues. Unless they don’t want to. Always a good idea to be sure. If you’re not sure how to be sure, Mashemon have a pamphlet available called:

“When people are interested in your kisses: Know the signs!”

I wrote it. I have a success rate of nearly 83% when it comes to kissing. What’s your success rate? If it’s over 50%, congratulations! You’re not evil.