Blood and Roses by Lance Hahn
Before he died in 2007, Lance Hahn sent me some chapters from his still unpublished book 'Let the Tribe Increase'.
This is one of them.
(SOME)
LIKE IT HOT
The
Story Of Blood And Roses
By
Lance Hahn
Blood
And Roses are one of the most underrated bands in this book. Forging
their own direction, like many other uncategorizable groups, they
paid the price for their unique (but surprisingly accessible) musical
vision.
Their
story starts with Bob in Australia, a kid who’s teenage depression
becomes a teenage dream with a tendency that seemed inevitably on a
collision course with punk. But I might as well let him tell the
story.
Bob
Short, guitarist, “Ultimately,
it’s a bit funny talking about why you got into punk rock. The
thing is, it just kind of reflected who you were. It was like falling
in love and you don’t ask why you fall in love. But why do you
fall in love with one person and not another? In the case of punk, a
whole lot of it came out of what you didn’t want rather than what
you did.
“That
probably means you are about to cop a far bigger answer to than the
question you asked. What follows amounts to a standard response
to this question that I just cut and paste. I get this question with
every email interview I get asked to do and no-one has been
interested enough to use any of it. The same goes for parts of my
replies to questions two, three, four and five.
“For
me, my interest in music started with Suzi Quatro of all people. As
you may imagine, with the hounds of puberty snapping at my crotch,
the sight of this leather clad Amazon prowling the confines of my
parent’s black and white television was quite an eye opener.
Nothing had had quite this effect on me except for perhaps Catwoman
and Batgirl in the sixties TV show. How was I to know that Suzi
was barely five foot tall? She strode the neon tube like a
colossus. Her musical legacy may have been limited to a rash of early
singles before her fearful decline into “Happy Days” and
balladeering hell but she left her mark. There was something in
the frantic pace of the music. (I later found out that the producers
sped up the tapes to make them sound more exciting).
“Most
importantly, there was a kind of power in the simple combination of
drums, bass and guitar that made everything I thought of as ‘’real
life’ up until this point seem bland and unimportant. Quite
literally, I fell in love with the sound and I fell hard. By the
way, I cannot stress how bland the world seemed to me at that time. I
lived in a bland little bubble with fear at the door.
“I
grew up in Wollongong which was a red neck blue collar steel working
town about eighty kilometers south of Sydney Australia. To me, it
felt that I was living on the geographical equivalent of the biggest
hemorrhoid on the arse hole of the world. Though this conviction was
unshakeable, I think it was shared by a great many people in a great
many different locations. The arse hole of the world seemed to
spread from Glasgow to Leeds and London and then into Europe and
America and all points beyond.
“I’d
fallen under the influence of a mob of born again Baptist
Christians. My parents had wanted the kids out of the house and,
what better place to send us than church. Especially since the
church was quite happy to pick us up. Whether I like it or not
(and believe me I don’t), this was hugely influential on my
life. Just as there is no non smoker more vocal than an ex
smoker, there is no atheist quite like an ex Baptist.
“These
people were, quite literally, insane. They pawed over the Book
of Revelations pulling proof that the end was nigh from every verse.
China was preparing to destroy two thirds of the wall but no-one
needed to fear because Jesus was getting ready to suck us all up to
heaven if we only would believe. Their eyes were dead behind
their Osmond’s smiles. They saw devils behind every
action except those perpetrated by their right wing leaders. What
if Nixon was a thief and a liar? It’s better to have him than to be
overrun by a bunch of godless communists. If this sounds familiar, it
rings alarm bells for me too. I seriously thought this nonsense was
dead and buried until the recent rise of George Dubya. Once
again, fat hypocrites talk of the end times and the four horsemen.
“This
was all pretty powerful imagery to be laying upon a child. They
told me the world was riddled with sin and inequity. The
inequity was obvious, the sin less so. If the world I was living
in was riddled with sin then sin was far less interesting than they
gave it credit.
“Right
away, you can probably see where a lot of my lyrical concerns were
coming from. Incidentally, I seem to remember Lisa telling me
that her father had been a minister but she didn’t talk a great
deal about her growing up. She, too, did not seem overly fond of
Christians.
“So,
into this drab world came a little Suzi. Whilst her talk of a
“48 Crash” being something like “a silk sash bash” (?????)
failed to ignite any kind of political revelation, she did however
start a little revolution in my head. She brought friends to the
party like The Sweet playing “The Ballroom Blitz” and T-Rex,
Alice Cooper, David Bowie and Slade. The guitars were loud and
distorted and the songs were short and alive. The most beautiful
thing I knew of was a seven inch single. Hey! Puberty was
still snapping at my crotch. It hadn’t stuck its teeth in yet.
“Then,
as if by magic, I came across the first record to really change my
life. My parents had literally forbidden the purchase of any
David Bowie related material. They had seen him on television
and he looked dangerously homosexual to them. Whilst Mr. Bowie
hadn’t caused the warm tingling sensations that Suzi had provoked,
even I could spot that his song writing was a step or three up the
evolutionary ladder from my beloved Ms Q. And, as I have said,
it was the music I had really fallen for.
“So,
there I was in a second hand shop and what did I spy sitting on the
top of a pile of used vinyl? The New York Dolls first album
clearly played once and dumped in disgust. I looked at the cover.
Jesus! If my parents thought that David Bowie was terrifying, wait
until they got a load of this. All this could be mine for two
measly dollars.
“Now
as soon as the needle hit the groove, I was changed. There was
nothing in the world like this. It sounded like a train crashing
through the house. Friends told me it sounded like the Rolling Stones
sped up. The Stones were something out of the dark ages as far
as I was concerned. I think I may have heard the song “Angie” but
that had failed to move me anywhere.
“The
Dolls were all flash and explosions from the howl of “Personality
Crisis” to the machine gun drumming of “Vietnamese Baby”. And
the words! How could anyone make songs up about this stuff? The
words spoke to me so directly. I might not have had to worry myself
about girl friends overdosing in bathrooms (that would come
later). That feeling of alienation was easy to associate with. I
knew exactly what it was like to feel “like a Frankenstein” or a
“Lonely Planet Boy”. This was a kind of poetry that I could
understand. There were guys at school who liked stuff like Led
Zeppelin. They told me poetry was stuff like “Stairway to
Heaven”. “If there’s a bustle in your hedgerow, don’t be
alarmed now. It’s just a spring clean for the May Queen.” Do
me a fucking favor, John.
“The
next album that really affected me came courtesy of my science
teacher, Miss Campbell. It was an indirect path to be sure but that’s
what I was saying about influences. Well, if you were going to
have a crush on any of your teachers, you might as well have a crush
on the one who talks about going to see Lou Reed play. Who the fuck
was Lou Reed? I hadn’t heard either Walk on the Wild Side or the
Transformer album that had probably led Miss Campbell to Mr.
Reed. They didn’t play Lou on the radio. I went down to the
record shop to investigate.
“Sitting
at the back of the Lou Reed rack was a scrappy looking black covered
disc. Years of reduction stickers had bought the price tag down to
one dollar and ninety nine cents. Okay, I could afford that if I
skipped lunch for the next week. I certainly could not afford the
more recent full priced discs. Suddenly, I was in possession of
White Light White Heat by the Velvet Underground and I didn’t even
know what I had. It had clearly sat there on the shelves since its
initial release, unwanted and unloved. Just my kind of disc.
“Whilst
listening to the New York Dolls was to take a new glimpse at this
world rendered anew, hearing the Velvet Underground was like looking
down a very deep hole into hell itself. How these discs crossed
my path, I can’t explain but of all the record collections in all
the world, they walked into mine.
“Politically,
Australia was going through some pretty major changes. After an
eternity of conservative rule under the “Liberal/National Party
Coalition”, the Labor Party had taken the reins of power. Australia
pulled its army out of Vietnam. A national health service was
introduced for the first time. The whole country seemed to be
being dragged out of a post war time warp kicking and screaming.
Maybe there was just a chance that the world was going to get better.
“This
feeling of change and hope was short lived. The coalition
controlled senate blocked supply to the government’s budget. The
Governor General (who is the Queen’s representative) stepped in and
fired the government and Australia went tumbling back into the
nineteen fifties. Imagine what would happen in the UK if the
House of Lords refused to pass the budget and Queen Elizabeth sacked
her government. There were demonstrations that did little
against this establishment closing of ranks. Most Australians
didn’t really like all this change that was going on. The
cities protested but the great rural centre shifted back to the
right.
“The
protests did, however, mean I met people who claimed to be anarchists
for the first time. They were older than me and so I didn’t really
get to hang out. Most of the protests came from Socialist and
Trade Union groups. Whilst the socialists talked exactly like
the Baptists, constantly reciting from received dogma, the trade
unionists had the typical arrogance of old men who thought youngsters
needed a haircut and a kick up the arse. The anarchists at least
seemed alive and funny. This was 1970s Australia, however, and
they were a little overly obsessed with notions of rural communes and
decentralization received via the doctrines of Chairman Mao and a
cloud of dope smoke.
“Meanwhile,
even the music sucked. Abba held endless reign over the
charts. Their single “Fernando” held the number one spot for
sixteen weeks. Glam vanished up the Bay City Rollers
collective backsides and what a tartan clad atrocity that was. The
hip kids listened to America and the Eagles and that mind numbing
heavy metal crap played by show ponies in strutting flares. Once
you’d listened to “Sister Ray” a few times, Deep Purple
prancing around singing “Smoke on the Water” was patently
ridiculous. I did not want to go through the desert with a horse
with no name, visit the Hotel California or take a trip to the Dark
Side of the Moon.
“Now
one thing I have learnt is that the world can’t stay that boring
for long. My first hint that things were changing came when I
saw the Runaways on television. Say what you like about Kim
Fowley and his media manipulations, the “Cherry Bomb” video was
incendiary. Not just because of the all female band but because
of the energy. Almost immediately, you started hearing about
bands like the Ramones and local bands like the Saints and Radio
Birdman. Then, obviously, there was the Sex Pistols and it all
gets a little obvious after that.
“But
really, it seems everyone attempts to deny the influence of the
Pistols, The Clash and their ilk but that is just ridiculous. Whilst
the Pistols without Lydon were an embarrassment of such epic
proportions as to all but taint reputations entirely, no-one could
deny the power unleashed by “Anarchy in the UK”. The kind of
anarchy that was being advocated may have been little more than
drunken nihilism but there was at least a modicum of political
awareness and education behind it. The tabloids may have written
the scene off as morons wallowing in their own vulgarities but the
interviews told a different story.
“Likewise,
The Clash may have jumped on the CBS bandwagon with a clutch of
lyrics that merely spewed venom back at the vileness of the world but
their involvement with Rock Against Racism set the political agenda.
“But
the rise of these (and lesser known) groups did something
else. Suddenly you realized that there have been a whole lot of
people all over the world thinking the way you think, listening to
the same music and sharing the dreams that you have. If there is
one freak in every school in the world, that adds up to a whole lot
of freaks in the world. And when those freaks got together, there was
going to be a hell of a party.
“I
had been spending my nights in pointless acts of vandalism. Well,
not pointless. There would always be a plan. The idea was
the important thing. Looking back, I think I should have applied
for art council funding for these little events and installations.
These included building walls across suburban streets with
bricks plundered from local building yards; relocating cars between
trees (you had to get a group of five or six people to pick it up and
carry it); systematically scratching every copy of Abba’s Arrival
at the local K-mart; casting down a storm of milk crates on the local
bowling green and pouring petrol over a local creek and igniting it
(you want to see Smoke on the fucking water?).
“Whilst
these acts seem ridiculous in hindsight, it is only now that I
realize how interconnected they are to my later “artistic”
pursuits. I don’t think I was particularly special or unique in
this. Certainly, a lot of the anarcho punks engaged in vandalism as
part of their identity. For example, Martin of Faction had a personal
crusade to superglue the locks of every butcher shop in London whilst
graffiti was considered our only legitimate means of communication
with the masses. What tight suited bank clerks made of anarchist
slogans is difficult to say. One would probably guess that the
only influence such messages had was entirely negative.
“My
t-shirt collection had been getting me in trouble at school long
before I’d even seen the works of Westwood and McLaren. The
sacking of the Labor Government inspired my hand drawn “Fuck the
Monarchy” shirt which had earned me a beating courtesy of a Vietnam
Veteran PE Teacher. Not deterred in the slightest, I came back with
my masterpiece. The Sunday Telegraph was proud to include an
Abba iron on T-shirt transfer so you could make your own Abba
t-shirt. I discovered that a pair of scissors and a little
rearrangement of heads and letters could work wonders. The “Abba
are shit” t-shirt was born. To my teachers, this proved beyond
a shadow of a doubt that I was in need of psychiatric help.
“The
fact that I’d gone to war with the English department didn’t
help. Asked to review Orwell’s 1984, I had described it as a
satire of post war Britain and political allegiances. The
teacher told me I was wrong, called it a dystopian fantasy and gave
me five out of a hundred. It didn’t matter to her (or indeed Crass
for that matter) that Orwell had initially wanted to call the book
1948. I was wrong and she was right and war was declared.
“The
next book up was Jane Eyre which I figured there was no point in
reading. After all, the teacher was going to hand out notes on
what she thought the book was about so I based my next review
entirely on that document. Suddenly I had a mark of ninety nine
out of one hundred and a pat on the back.
“’How
did you improve so much?’ she asked in front of the class. And
so I told her the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I
ended my reply with ‘thus proving my original assessment of the
book “1984”, QED.’
“Now
I had my very own school psychiatrist who would come and make weekly
visits. He would tell me not to worry. I wasn’t crazy but
they were. This was mildly reassuring though slightly
disappointing. Everybody else who got sent to him ended up with
scripts for all manner of mind altering goodies.
“Finally,
my English teacher decided it was time for drama. She beseeched us to
act out an escape. (Was she asking for trouble or what?). Kids
huddled around walls under the gaze of imaginary spotlights. They
crept under tables. They pretended to escape whilst escaping
nothing. It was my turn and - you could feel everyone was just
waiting for what I would do (the English Teacher War had been long
and bitter) - I stood up, smiled and waved and walked right out the
door - and out of the school - and out of Wollongong.
“It
was 1977 and I was going to be in a punk band.
“The
Sydney scene was pretty much dominated by Radio Birdman who mined a
musical vein somewhere between the Stooges and the MC5 whilst lacking
the nihilism of the former and the political edge of the latter. That
shouldn’t be taken as any kind of criticism. This was a band that
had decided to do what it was doing without the input or constraint
of peers. They picked an unpopular road and beat their heads against
it until people started listening.
“I
particularly liked the way they thought. No-one will book us so we’ll
start our own club. No record company will touch us so we’ll
do it ourselves. Whilst that became a fairly standard avenue to
follow over the next couple of years, these were amazing ideas at the
time; the notion that you didn’t need to wait for permission.
“In
Brisbane, the Saints had pretty much done the same thing. Their self
pressed “(I’m) Stranded” single hit the shelves the day after
the Ramones LP. The UK bands at the time were all hanging out
for major labels. The only place the Saints could play was in
the front room of their house. Nobody would have them. Live,
they were amazing. I remember sitting outside a hall listening
to their sound check. Just the sound of the Bass drum sent
shivers down my spine. Finally, they hit the stage and just
ploughed through their set. They stood there looking like men
braced against a storm, screaming feedback against the wind.
“One
of the biggest influences on my life has been this notion that you do
what you do no matter how many times you’re told to fuck off and
die. You don’t do it for fame or recognition or money. You
do it because you don’t have any other choice but to do the work.
“Arriving
late from Melbourne came the Boys Next Door but their initial
appearance in Sydney was met with howls of derision. They
arrived as the headline act of a Melbourne New Wave package tour for
Suicide Records. One of the majors had decided to cash in on the
punk boom and create a specialist imprint. The resulting
compilation was everything you’d expect of a corporations idea of
what punk should be. The one exception was the Boys Next Door’s
version of “These Boots are Made for Walking” which wasn’t
without charm. I wish I still had my copy because the band’s famous
singer is so ashamed of his murky past that he refuses any chance of
re-release.
“Live on stage, things weren’t quite so rosy. Singer Nick Cave (for it was he) copied every Bowie gesture he could think of including miming his way through the invisible wall. To make matters worse, two of the support acts had had their singers attempt to pull the exact same stunt already that night. If nothing else, this provided a good lesson in what not to do on stage.
“Having
said that, when the Boys returned a year later, they were a different
- and spectacularly original band. A year after that they would
wash up at The Rock Garden in Covent Garden under the name The
Birthday Party and I guess the rest is history.
“The
turn towards more political bands was slow in Sydney. Johnny
Dole and the Scabs flirted with Clash like political lyrics but their
set was bogged down by pub rock style covers. They played more
Rolling Stones songs than originals. Towards the end of their
run, they had cut most of the flab and packed a considerable
punch. They never quite rose above their less than fabulous
beginnings.
“X
(no relation to the similarly named Los Angeles outfit), sung songs
about low lives and the shit that rained down upon them. Somewhere
out in the Western Suburbs, The Last Words cut a single called
“Animal World” that seemed to come from a world somewhere between
the Jam and Sham 69. My favorite band were the Psycho Surgeons
who played like a feed backing chainsaw let loose in an abattoir.
They had songs with titles like “Crush” and “Meathook”. Their
set lists were just a column of single words. Radio Birdman
singer Rob Younger once gushed that this “represented the kind of
minimalism that the Ramones could only dream about.” He wasn’t
far wrong.”
With
the backdrop of the crazy outlaw days of early punk in Australia, Bob
began playing music in a series of confrontational punk groups.
Bob,
“The first band I was in was called Filth. I’ll let someone
else write about us. I don’t know who wrote this. A friend who
collects fanzines came across it and it seems to come from the inner
sleeve of a CD. I don’t know what CD it is and neither does
he... It originally had a rather fetching photo of me revealing a
scratched up chest but - as I posses a photocopy of a photocopy of a
photocopy, there is little point in me scanning what is left of the
image.
“‘Spewed forth from thin air (no-one really wanted to own up to aiding and abetting them) were Filth who took their moniker from the spectacle of a deserted table in McDonalds covered in half eaten food. Featuring guitarist Bob Short, barely in his fifteenth year, and vocalist Peter Tillman who would later front the Lipstick Killers so commandingly. Filth had to do only ten shows or so to make it into the history books. Arguably the most anarchic, downright dangerous band to take a stage in this country, reports circulated widely of gigs dissolving into violence, with audiences on the receiving end inelegantly thrown mic stands.’
“All
this is basically true except for the McDonalds story. Having
decided to form a band, we went to the family restaurant in question
to work out a suitable name for our little ensemble. This proved
more difficult than I had given such things credit. I began to
amuse myself by safety pinning the disposable tinfoil McDonald
ashtrays to various parts of my anatomy. (Hey, don’t get the
wrong idea - none of them went south of the Equator.)
“Suddenly an irate woman came running towards us, grandchildren clenched tightly to her side. “You’re Filth!” she cried and who were we to disappoint? As for being anarchic, the anarchy was more nihilist than anything else - though there was a definite political consciousness developing in my songwriting. To me, the songwriting was the most important thing. Learning to play guitar was a way to let off steam. Writing songs was something else. Something (and I use this word advisably) magical. I figured if something could just appear in your head like that, you had a duty to share it with others.
“The
first song I wrote was called “In Love” and it appeared like a
gift as I was walking down the street. By the time I got home,
it was all worked out and it didn’t really bother me that it
sounded like something rescued from The Velvet Underground’s waste
paper bin. The lyrics, however, were a bit of a worry. I
wrote several versions - some in which I was in favor of this love
thing and others that were not. Later on, it evolved into “Fall
Apart” which Blood and Roses would play but not record.
“Responding to my poor showing in the lyrical stakes, the next song I managed to pull out of my hat was called “Do the Harold Holt”. Now I was getting somewhere. Harold Holt was an Australian Prime Minister who went for a swim and didn’t come back. Here was something that didn’t sound like somebody else’s songs. It didn’t matter to me if it was shit or not. It was my shit.
“I
followed on with songs like “America get fucked”, “Curse on
You”, “Thalidomide Child” and “The Law is your Friend.” It
was only when I wrote “Jesus” that I had a song bounced back at
me. I couldn’t understand why people took such offence to
slagging off religion. It also pointed to a greater schism within the
band.
“Whilst bathing in the attention that arose from singing songs about the slaughter of politicians, singer Peter Tillman really wanted to sing about cars and girls. Preferably, the girls should be armed with chainsaws and drive converted hearses to the beach but you get the picture. And don’t think I’m going to knock him for that. His next band, the Lipstick Killers, were a damn fine outfit. I just wanted to pursue the lyrical course I was taking. I thought of the mayhem we were creating as a kind of cultural terrorism. We would do anything to get a reaction. Pete once said that this was a band that destroyed people’s (the audience) lives.
“It all came to a head when we went on tour supporting the Psycho Surgeons. After a performance of sheer noise attack and audience abuse, we found ourselves banned from all the venues we were due to play at. Everyone was getting on each other’s nerves and the Psycho Surgeon’s were desperately in need of a singer who could sing.
“Returning to Sydney after the debacle of the Adelaide gigs, I formed “The Urban Guerillas” with Andi, Ross and Johnny Gunn. There’s another band now doing the rounds in Sydney with the same name but have nothing to do with us. At this time I think we could have been described as an Anarcho punk band. The political themes hardened up. Anti war. Anti Government. Anti Religion. We called ourselves punks. We looked like punks. We were unified in that kind of identity. There was a kind of safety in numbers. Everyone looked at us as if we’d come from another planet (and not in a nice kind of E.T. way). The villagers would light their torches and start sharpening their pitchforks when we walked by.
“Whereas
people like Johnny Rotten mocked later punks as clones and copycats,
I always understood the need for an environment that allowed people
to express their individuality. Plenty of people involved in the
later day punk movement came out of dysfunctional families and
abusive households. They were orphans in a storm looking for a
family. The criticism by punk’s elder statesmen really arose
from the selfishness of their concerns. It was not as if they hadn’t
copped much of their style out of what had gone before them. Whilst
this was widely felt, I think it was poorly articulated.
“From
mid summer in 1978 to February 79, the Urban Guerillas pretty much
played a once a week residency at the Grand Hotel at Railway Square.
It was the only venue that would book us. Pretty soon we had a fairly
large, unique audience that really looked and acted punk. None of the
other venues really wanted them either. By the end, we were
playing to about two hundred people a night.
“Our
set included such songs as “Paradise”, “No Allegiance”, and
“Mummy”, all of which later turned up in Blood and Roses’
set. Other songs included “The End of the Western World” and
“Smash your TV”. To be honest though, there are about
fifteen to twenty songs from this period that I have completely
forgotten. At one stage I had a book with over a hundred and
fifty potential songs with lyrics and crude chord structures that
never got near a rehearsal.”
Having
at that point exhausted the punk rock resources and interest level in
Australia, like the aforementioned Cave, Bob relocated to England.
Bob,
“A little from column A and a little from column B. Whilst the
Urban Guerillas were probably a band that could have been successful,
my own self destructiveness was on the rise. If I caught sight of the
nose on my face, I saw no logical reason not to cut it off. There
were some personal problems that amplified everything in that
heightened teenage kind of a fucked up way. Relationships
fucked up. There were people I didn’t want to see.
However, whilst on one level I had the desire to run away, there was
also the desire to run towards something else. It was a match
made in heaven, literally, one day, I went to a party and I
just got bored. I was fed up of the same old faces and the same
landscape - not to mention the same fucking cops hassling me on a
daily basis. I should have got drunk but I didn’t think that way.
The next day I booked a plane ticket without even knowing how I’d
pay for it.
“I
had been born in England and I still had a British passport and
London seemed the logical place to go.”
Despite
some of the obvious similarities, London was a very different place
from anywhere in Australia. Instinctively, Bob was drawn in and
eventually drifted into the intense squatting scene of the late ‘70s
and early ‘80s eventually embroiled in the small p and capital p
politics implied by that lifestyle.
Bob, “My first impression of London was that I had discovered the fall of the Western world. It was like standing on the edge of some terrible maelstrom watching all the shit on Earth falling into oblivion. Of course, I always had a flair for a dramatic turn of phrase.
“London,
of course, was a very different world than Sydney and that was a very
different time than today. It was violent, squalid and down
right dangerous to know. The music scene was as it always
is. There are always a bunch of perverted money stealing morons
running the show and, if you want to get on, you are expected to kiss
butt with tongue. Talentless hacks get all the good gigs and the shop
is locked up tighter than a fish’s bottom. If you want to do
something, someone is always willing to help if you’re ready to pay
the price but there are always no promises.
“Business
remains as per usual.
“I
rolled up in London with a guitar and empty pockets. Ultimately
there was only one life style choice available and that was
squatting. People didn’t squat for any one reason. There were
older ex-hippy guys who squatted simply because they believed
property was theft. There were kids who had run away from home.
There were drunks, junkies, lunatics and the great and glorious
freaks of nature. If I had to choose one answer on a multiple
question test, I’d have to tick the box that said “I had nowhere
else to go”.
“Squatting was fun and terrifying, sad and boring. It was like living in an X-rated version of Coronation Street or East Enders. There was sex and drugs and rock and roll. There was also squalor, disease and death. I felt feelings of belonging and community I will probably never feel again but there were also times marked by emotional pain and loneliness. We had nothing but each other’s company but sometimes we hated each other’s guts.
“But
squatting firmed whatever you did into a lifestyle. There was no
dressing up at the weekend. There were no excuses like jobs,
families or pets. If you were going to something you had to do
it. I’ve always been a doer and now I was surrounded by
doers. There was people who didn’t talk to you like you came
from another planet just because you were different. There was no
place better to be.
“Different squats had different vibes. It’s difficult to, say, compare the Fire Station at Old Street with Campbell Buildings in Waterloo or Derby Lodge in Kings’ Cross. Different people, different music and different drugs. Two months was a long time in London. One day everyone was doing speed and listening to the Ants and then suddenly we’re all dropping Valium and someone upstairs is playing Public Image Limited’s “Theme” over and over and over again. There you are, too off your tree to go upstairs and change the disc and someone has crashed out with the bar on the record player up so it is on eternal repeat. Twenty four hour a day exposure to John Lydon wishing he could die can have devastating effects on the human psyche.
“‘We
have nothing to fear from chaos, we have always lived in holes in the
wall.’ It’s almost definitely misquoted and I forget who
said it but the point is obvious. Poverty is a great
politicising force. Whilst the working class were growing enough
enfranchisement to vote Tory at the general election, an
underclass was growing. In many ways, the system encouraged it. If
you were on the dole, private rental was not an option in London and
council housing was primarily targeted at families. If you were
young, broke and pursuing any kind of alternative lifestyle, the
system had no need or place for you. It wasn’t like there
were jobs going anyway.
“Besides, who wanted to work anyway? If you worked, you made someone else rich. You were just contributing to your own oppression. I am shocked at how alien a concept that sounds twenty five years on. Whilst it was not a popular opinion with those in employment, it was certainly common coin in the squats.
“Now
I wouldn’t want you catching any kind of notion that the squats
were one big anarchist utopia because they were not. The great
schism in punk at the end of the seventies was between the extreme
left and the extreme right. The choice was between a
society should be run by a consensus that respected the individual
(who we shall call anarchists) and those who believed the society
should be governed and governed hard against the individual (who we
shall call Nazi scumbag bastards).
“Prejudiced? Who? Moi?
“Fascism
holds an equally great attraction to the underclass underdogs. People
can find identity, family and purpose in it. Without a suitable
moral compass, many succumbed to this vice. The ill-defined rage and
nihilism of the first wave of British punk had all the advantages of
energy but its lack of clarity of intent bought about conflicting
ideologies.
“If
you set out to destroy past morality and offer a void in its place,
then that void will be filled. When Nietzsche declared the superman
who was beyond good and evil, I seriously doubt he intended Hitler to
invoke his philosophies whilst running extermination camps. When
Johnny asked “when there’s no future, how can there be sin?” I
doubt he expected that some would take it as license to rape, kill
and pillage.
“Then
again, I knew one guy who took the lyrical content of Crass’ Penis
Envy to mean that women essentially wanted to be beaten and
mistreated. Suffice to say, this man was not a close personal friend
of mine but his leather jacket was coated in the thick scrawl of
anarchy signs and dogma.
“Art
is a dangerous thing and the only way you can truly take
responsibility for your actions is to do nothing. (Which, of
course, involves making an active choice which means you are actually
doing something so you’re fucked whatever you do.)
“The
British Movement seemed to be the major political allegiance of the
skinheads. They considered the National Front to be too wet and
suggested its leader was a homosexual. This was an interesting
complaint given these men’s attacks on squats in Camden Town and
Kings’ Cross that, in addition to the usual carnage, involved the
sexual assault of men. Not to mention the fact that - some years
later when I went to see Test Department play at the gay nightclub
Heaven - I saw a fair few of these ex Nazi boys involved in quite a
different lifestyle choice. Funny that.”
Simultaneously
in the squat scene, Lisa Kirby (now Lisa Burrell) was getting
interested involved in music and other extracurricular activities of
a less legal nature.
Lisa,
singer, “I
don’t think I did get into music, it was always there. I can’t
remember a time I didn’t love music or dance make up songs. Well
the time punk came it fit me like a glove, seemed the attitude was
mine. Before punk had been into the black scene down the west end, at
15 I loved James Brown, Big Youth, Blues clubs was out all weekend
just dancing. They used to call me and my friends The Sunday School
Outing and they weren’t too far off the mark , all from an all
girls, High church of England school we were more used to
reeling off Latin chants every morning at assembly than doing The
Latin hustle down Soho (a dance by the way.) all weekend. I
loved the bass and rhythms plus the volume but the attitude stank
towards women and the white people with their fake Jamaican accents
made me laugh but it all used to wind me up as well. I was full of
rage but pretty insular, mucked about with Ouija boards, stopped
going to school, went sticksing with a couple of black guys I knew
(pick pocketing.) the sticksmen used to always wear burberry back
then, things don’t change much.
“Punk
came along and it was all brand new but far from shiny and scared the
record business into taking chances was brilliant. I went down the
clubs on my own as everyone I knew were still into the same old
stuff.
“The
first club I walked into was The Vortex down Wardour Street. It was
like walking down those dark steps was it. White faced, black eyed,
black lipped and black heart. Was like walking through a very warped
looking glass and it felt like home to me.”
Lisa’s
musical career started with a groups that existed in every except for
having a note of music. Perhaps post-modern in retrospect, it just
showed the desire kids had to start a band long before they had the
technical ability.
Lisa,
“I was always into any form of expression; it was a necessary
release for me. Was a very quiet person until you got to know me and
that usually took awhile. I needed to release myself in other ways. I
drew, danced wrote words down just as a way of hearing myself think
sometimes. I think I sang out loud rather than talked out loud
because it didn’t seem as weird and for some reason I thought that
when people looked at me they could see that I was strange. At least
when I got into punk I could tell myself it was the clothes and make
up they were looking at. So I asked just about everyone I had a
halfway decent conversation with if they wanted to start a band.
“Me
and a friend of mine did such a good spray campaign people were
looking to interview us. We didn’t even have a band just a name.
The Necrophiliacs, we should have chosen something shorter, took too
much paint and too much time to write it.”
At
the same time, Bob had a theoretical group of his own happening. This
group would eventually evolve into Blood And Roses.
Bob,
“I
was squatting in a world of squalor, poverty, police harassment and
an undeclared war against Nazi skinheads. I met Ruthless (aka Ruth
Tyndall) at the squat in Old Street. She had a bass and I had a
guitar and a pile of songs. There was a guy called Jock who had
threatened to sing with us and his mate Beano could allegedly play
drums. A band in theory, yes. We could certainly wander the
streets of London and claim to be in a band but we never played or
rehearsed. Jock went off to join the bloody army which seemed a damn
peculiar choice for a skinny Sid Vicious clone. Time passed and
Ruth and I found ourselves washed ashore in Campbell Buildings SE1.
“This
was where we met Lisa (Kirby) and Richard (Morgan) and the band that
would become Blood and Roses really began to take shape. We began to
learn the songs in peculiar acoustic rehearsals. At the time we
called ourselves. We deliberately decided we would not have a name on
general principle. We had a symbol that was like a hammer and
sickle barred by a swastika and formed into a question mark. It
provided the opportunity to bombard a variety of sites with some mind
fucking graffiti but we were low life scum - literally street people
- and no one was going to let us anywhere near a venue.
“If
asked, I think we would have all called ourselves anarchists. I know
that I did. Richard’s notion of anarchy was probably a little
different from my own and probably fell more towards nihilism. He
was certainly the only member of the band who believed that getting a
record out would lead to ownership of the kind of automobile that
would make him “irresistible to the ladies”. I paraphrase there
but - y’know - he was the drummer after all.
“We
had no amps. Just instruments and no-one in their right mind
wanted to let us anywhere near there’s. It wasn’t like we
were going to fuck with them deliberately but I think our fellow
musicians looked at us in the same way as you wouldn’t give a child
a gun to play with.
“Finally,
at the start of 1981 we got a gig at a pub in Bethnal Green. We
were so dreadful that someone should have taken us out the back and
put us out of our misery. We plodded through about eight of our
ten song set, unable to hear each other. After trying to get it
together for a year and a half, we just fucked it. Ruth made the
sensible choice and left the band and abandoned the self destructive
lifestyle.
“It
took about another six months to pull ourselves together
again. Richard bought in one of his drug buddies to play
bass. He came from Clapham and his name was Clapham and we
musically, we improved for a while. We had started using a lot
more rolling drum patterns and spidery guitar lines. Clapham’s
lines also began to become more intricate and the music began to lose
cohesion. There was nothing to hold onto.
“We
would have worked something out but personalities began to
clash. Clapham was just too damn straight. I always thought he
looked down on us as freaks he could slum with until his real career
took off. I really don’t think the rest of us had anything
else we could do. We had dug ourselves so deeply into the life
we had, there was no turning back. We played one gig in Clissold
Park, Stoke Newington. They wouldn’t let us play without a
name so at the last minute I said call us “ABCDEFG” because the
Cramp’s song “Under the Wire” was playing on the stereo
(technically the mono) and Lux gurgled that line out at the
appropriate moment.
“With
Clapham ejected, Lisa found Jez (James) and he wanted to play like a
Ramones, I had no objections. Our first gig (under the name
Blood and Roses) was at the Anarchy Centre in Wapping on the first
Sunday in January 1982. Ten days or so earlier, on Christmas
Eve, a gang of skinheads had broken into the squat on a smash and
injure mission. Some things never seemed to change.”
Lisa,
“Myself
and some friends had moved into a block of squats in waterloo and
were setting up house, new people were moving in all the time, there
were plenty of flats and loads of different kinds of punks, it was a
really good mix loads of characters and a really good mix of music
came with them.
“Ruthless
and Bob turned up. Ruthless and I became good friends, and then just
got to know Bob too. They had a singer but things didn’t work out
and then I had a go.
“Was
very unsure of myself at first and after all those plans I had when
it came down to it I was petrified. Bob was brilliant though and he
worked with me through the songs I guess he must have known how
nervous I was because he was just really patient and gradually I
pushed a voice out.”
With
the band largely propelled by Bob’s will at the start, he also was
the one to pick the name.
Lisa,
“The name was nothing to do with me, Bob picked the name. It was so
much more Bobs baby in the beginning.”
Bob,
“The
name came from Roger Vadim’s 1962 film of that title. A
version of Sheridan Le Fanu’s Carmilla, I remember it mostly for
its hallucinogenic central section. Obviously, we were looking
for a different kind of a name than everyone else. I was taken by the
poetic sound of the phrase. To me it suggested not just a
darkness and a passion but a beauty too. There is an obvious
menstrual connotation there to which, hanging around “witchy
types”, I was quite drawn to.”
While
the only true title that can be bestowed on Blood And Roses is
“squatter band”, revisionist history often puts them as being
involved with the goth, death rock or Batcave scene which the band
actually preceded. What with some of the Crowley inspired content and
the often creepy crawly guitar playing not to mention the growing
interest in more tribal rhythms, it’s an easy mistake to make.
Bob,
“It would have been a little hard to set out to be a goth band or a
death rock band before these phrases were coined! In the end, it
doesn’t particularly matter what people call us. You
ultimately don’t have much choice about the pigeon holes others
will try to find for you.
“I
think we started as a punk band but that we initially sounded a lot
like a Sydney punk band as opposed to a London punk band. That
kind of set us a little apart right from the get go. Then we
just began to grow from the original seed into something else. By the
early nineteen eighties, there were a lot of different kinds of music
around to influence us. Perhaps we generally moved towards a darker
edge and if people want to call that goth or proto goth, I don’t
really care.
“The
only relationship I tried to have with the Bat Cave crowd
involved chasing women dressed like Vampira or Morticia Addams. Sure,
I went there but I also went there on nights where different club
nights were happening. I felt no attachment to the scene and I hated
the way thy would leave people queuing down into Dean Street as the
door bitches worked their go slow policy in the name of cool.
“I
think some of the Alien Sex Fiend songs are pretty funny but they
never really rocked my world. I thought of them more as a vaudeville
routine. I’m not knocking them. I quite enjoy certain vaudeville
acts. I don’t think Blood and Roses were a vaudeville act.
“We
weren’t entirely po-faced. “Curse on you” was kept in the set
because it was funny. Even when I had written it as an unpleasant
teenager, I probably meant the anger but expressed it with tongue
clearly pressed to cheek. Other material was very serious.”
With
that same sentiment, it would be hard to call Blood and Roses an
anarcho punk band in the obvious sense. But with their involvement in
the squat scene, their regular gigs at @ centres, their lyrical
content and Bob’s relationship with the Kill Your Pet Puppy group,
they were by default as involved as the Mob or Flowers In The Dustbin
or the Apostles.
Lisa,
“The
bottom line really was finding a place to live, getting water,
electric, food, drugs and music keeping on doing what you’re doing
and meeting others who pretty much did the same. As soon as someone
puts a label on something it creates a division.”
Bob,
“As
I said, I never referred to us as any kind of a band. I don’t
really think we fitted into any convenient package. Our first
gig as Blood and Roses was over at the Wapping Anarchist Centre and,
when we played there, we didn’t sound out of place. They were
without doubt the best gigs we played. That was where we felt at
home. They were the people we liked playing to. We were
squatting in the same squats and hanging out together all the time
and talked about the same crap. Andy Martin of the Apostles
lived just around the corner and the Mob were just a slightly longer
walk away in Brougham Road. I can’t see any reason we would have
thought of ourselves as out of place or different.
“It
is only in hindsight that people are desperate to work out who was in
what category.
“My
very favorite gig was at Centro Iberico when we got up at the end of
the night to play a short set because we were all there. We
played three songs and the whole place just exploded. In the gaps
between songs, the roar that came back seemed louder than the band.
It was like some giant animal roaring at us. That was cool.
“Playing
the Anarchy Centre was not without consequence. Whilst we got the odd
gig at the Moonlight and a few pubs here and there but the circuit
remained closed to us. Later, I was told that this was because
we had been one of the Anarchy Centre bands which had allegedly
pulled the crowds away from the Lyceum and led to it’s closure. We
had been black listed.
“Of
course, that story is stupid. The A centres rarely pulled more
than a crowd of two or three hundred people no matter what anyone
says. You wouldn’t have been able to fit many more people
into Wapping if you tried. Of course, these days, if some of the
tales I hear are true, the Anarchy Centre must have been double the
size of Wembley. The Lyceum’s decline was the fault of
management. When your premier acts are the UK Subs, The
Exploited and the Anti Nowhere League, you are really trying to run
an empire off of the laws of diminishing returns.
“Besides,
you would have to pay me to go and see the Exploited or The Anti
Nowhere League and you would have had to pay me well. I was not alone
in this notion.”
Bob
and the group were part of the anarcho scene almost by default.
Bob,
“This was where I lived. This was a scene that wasn’t there
to start with and grew up around the people involved and that
included me. This wasn’t something I sought out, I just found
myself there. It was a damn exciting scene to be in because it was
filled with talented (and some not quite so talented) people who
shared an enthusiasm to create something. We didn’t come out
of middle class art schools and nobody’s daddy was in the wings
paying the bills. We all started on the level playing field of
having less than nothing and it didn’t even phase us.”
With
this broad appeal, the group found themselves playing with a wide
variety of bands from the anarcho groups to the proto-goth groups to
post-punk units.
Bob,
“Oh, you know what it’s like. Sometimes you play good and
sometimes you play not so good. There wasn’t a whole lot of fold
back so it could be fairly difficult to work out what we played like.
From the moment we started playing, people started jumping around and
that was a good thing.
“We
played with the Mob and Part One. We played with the Apostles,
the Witches and Oxy and the Morons. We played with the Sisters
of Mercy and UK Decay. We played with The Sex Gang Children,
Brigandage and the Damned. We’d play with anyone who was happy
to let us share a stage with them (and quite a few who were not).
Once we rolled up to find a whiny little loser had nailed himself to
the front of the stage and was going to play regardless. He
turned out to be Billy Bragg. I’d like to tell you he was
brilliant but I got so bored that I walked into the other bar to
watch Culture Club on the Video juke box.
“Personally,
I didn’t care who we played with. I always maintained the arrogant
notion that when we had the stage it belonged to us. We were more
than happy to share it with members of the audience but we never
thought in terms of us supporting anyone or them supporting us.
“People
would turn up to see us and then either leave or cause trouble for
any bands that followed. This would further jeopardize pub support
gigs. Once we were playing at a pub near Earls Court supporting
the highly touted Playne Jayne. We played and left. The audience
demanded Playne Jayne get off the stage and let us back on. Windows
were broken and furniture smashed. It was a rare instance of
being banned from a venue even though we were already on the 73 bus
and half way back to Stoke Newington.”
Bob
was also getting involved in the aforementioned Kill Your Pet Puppy
collective. While the title “collective” may have been largely
bestowed upon them by the outside world, the group did revolve around
the fanzine of the same name.
Bob,
“I don’t think there was really anything you could really
describe as a Kill your Pet Puppy collective. It was more a social
group than a collective in the “Crass” sense. This is something
you should really talk to Tony D about because, although I knew
everyone who wrote for that fanzine and hung around with them
socially, I was at no point involved in the production of that
magazine.”
But
many of the interests of the Kill Your Pet Puppy group started to
come up in Blood And Roses interviews including revisiting punk’s
relationship with the Situationist International.
Bob,
“Well, I don’t think we alluded in interviews. I think we quite
openly discussed these topics and therefore they obviously affected
the music and the group. On one level, we were clearly affected
just through lifestyle and the social groups through which we moved.
We alluded to some of these things lyrically whilst other things were
sung about more directly.
“A
song like ‘Paradise’, though more poetically phrased than many of
its genre cousins, is clearly about what I disliked about ‘normal’,
nine-to-five, nuclear family wage slavery. It is a straight forward
text. A song like ‘Necromantra’ needs to be scratched at to
decipher meaning. A song like ‘Spit on Your Grave’ probably
needs a road map.”
While
these ideas were implicit with the group, Lisa found it best
expressed through the music and less through interviews.
Lisa,
“Ahhh!
Interviews, I always thought it wise to keep my mouth shut and this
is pretty much the first time I’ve ever taken the time to say
anything. You can probably tell by my grammar.
“There
was always much talk and it’s good to shift a few ideas around but
it’s like once someone has printed them you’re stuck with them.
And then someone sticks a label on you and puts limits on you.
“I
really just like to take each situation or day as it comes and do the
best with it that I can.
“Blood
and Roses were a group of four different individuals it would be
impossible to say that we were all on the same track; we made music
together and added to the mix until it had its own sound our
attitudes were tuned on that level and that’s pretty much all that
mattered.”
In
attempt to somehow label and therefore find a place in history for
this new generation of groups, the NME promoted the notion of
Positive Punk of which Blood And Roses were unwittingly involved.
Lisa,
“I haven’t got a clue. Positive Punk was probably something that
sounded good; I know I didn’t come up with. It was a title for a
piece in the music papers which we read then got on doing what we
were doing.”
Bob,
“Well
clearly something was happening musically as 1983 raised its ugly
head but it didn’t have a press agent behind it so the music papers
were confused. As the Bob Dylan song says ‘Well, you know
something’s happening but you don’t know what it is. Do you
Mr. Jones?’
“Basically,
I think it was the sound of punk moving out of the ghettos it had
allowed itself to fall into. Maybe it was the birth of Goth and
maybe it was just a tree branching out into a wider range of
possibilities. Richard [Cabut] North wrote his very passionate article
for the NME but its contents were overshadowed by those two dread
words on the cover.
“Actually,
it would have made a good cover for 2000AD with Judge Dredd pushing
the barrel of his gun up the nostril of some guy with a Robert Smith
hairdo. “Are you Positive, Punk?”
“It
was just a label that didn’t stick because those words are
essentially meaningless. The article itself is titled Punk
Warriors and that is equally meaningless. If a sub editor had
plastered the words “The New Noise Terrorists” across the cover
they would have probably had a better response even though such a
phrase would also be quite meaningless. It’s just that everyone
would be queuing up to be called a “New Noise Terrorist”.
“Maybe
I missed my calling in advertising.”
By
this time in 1983 the group had been together for some three years.
Though none of it was released until 1984’s “Life After Death”
cassette, the group had been self-documenting on tape all the while.
Bob,
“The first line up for the band was complete by early 1980 and we
recorded our first demo that year. We scraped some money together and
tried to record a demo tape at Alaska studios. The results were
dreadful - bad enough to make you want to throw your instrument in
the dustbin. Some guy from Essex actually stole the one copy we had
and we were eternally in his debt. I hope he recorded something
off of the radio over it.
“Why
was it so bad? Well, I’m sure some bad chemicals were involved but,
more importantly, no-one behind the desk had a fucking clue what the
music was supposed to sound like. They looked at us as if we
were the scum of the earth. Even 999 (who were rehearsing next door)
tried to hide from us. The management wanted us out as quickly as
possible. We recorded two songs (No Allegiance and Paradise) in
about fifteen minutes including guitar and vocal overdubs. Go to
whoa and no second takes or sound checks. Then they told us to
fuck off and come back the next day to pick up the tape.
“The
result was all heavily treated vocals and cardboard box sounding
drums. The bass was audible but the guitar was sweetened and
distortion free. They had made me plug directly into the desk
with the promise of adding distortion later.
“These
days, with a bit more experience, I know that it is difficult to
record this kind of punk music. The guitars present as a
constant barrage of chords which fight for the frequency space of the
vocals. A lot of the early punk tended to chug along on the
bottom three guitar strings but the stuff that we played let all the
strings ring out with a heavy treble bias. As I said before, I’d
taught myself to play by listening to ‘White Light White Heat’.
“Having
noted those difficulties in recording techniques, I am still certain
that a deaf gorilla could have done a better job than those guys at
Alaska. All they seemed interested in doing was separating bands from
their cash. They told you they’d do you a demo tape for about forty
five quid or something. This was when the dole was about fifteen
pounds ninety a week.
“Even
to this day, I think the largest part of the music industry is solely
designed with the purpose of preying on the musical aspirations of
the young.
“We
just cassette recorded after that for a while. Some of those
recordings can be heard on the ‘Life After Death’ cassette. I
quite enjoy listening to our version of ‘Louie Louie’ even though
it is decidedly lo-fi. It was certainly a better result than the
Alaska studio fiasco.
“In
1982 we went into Starforce Studios, an eight track at Clapham
Junction. The results were an improvement but the sound remained
quite thin. Too many engineers are fixated with clarity and it sucks
the life out of things. On ‘Life After Death’ you can hear some
of these recordings.
We
then went to Oxy and the Moron’s basement and recorded on a four
track Portastudio. We were much happier with the sound we got
there. The guitars were rougher and there was more spill. These
too are on ‘Life After Death’.”
The
first official release from Blood And Roses would be the “Love
Under Will” 12” EP on Kamera.
Bob,
“In fact, “Love Under Will” was released in 1983. Our low
budget demo recording had convinced us we needed better resources to
record so self financed releases were out of the question. Besides we
had no money. I can’t even hint at how little money we had. We
were all on the dole and the money was always gone the day after we
got it. Kamera offered us a deal and we jumped on it. Anagram
had also had their feelers out but that hadn’t amounted to
anything.”
Lisa,
“‘Love
Under Will’ always went down well at gigs, right sentiment. Crowley
from the little I know of him was another one looking for his own
way. Searching for something more than we are allowed to look for.
From whatever means possible he had the balls or insanity to go to
the extremes that sometimes it takes. whether he found it or not who
can say but bless him he gave it a go in a time when people were even
more closed up than they are now. To me it meant do whatever it takes
in your own way, under your own Will.
“Recording
it was great. It was the first proper studio and we were such a mass
of freaks. The two producers in there didn’t even want to share the
same room with us so luckily for us we got Ralph Jezzard to do his
producing debut and he got out of making coffee and tea all day. He
was only 16 but had his own ideas about music and was really patient
when one of the band would nip off to score or find a chemist or pub.
“We
were all well pleased and was the first time any of us had heard
ourselves before.”
The
four-song EP (the title track, “Spit Upon Your Grave” and two
versions of “Necromantra”) is a most auspicious debut record.
Driven by the great title track, something of a darker version of
“Breathless” with a Dolls-like drive, the record is most unique
for it’s imagery and cryptic lyrics and liner notes.
Bob,
“‘Do what thou Wilt Shall be the Whole of the Law, Love is the
Law, Love Under Will’ is a quote from The Book of the Law. The
mythology is that Crowley “received” the Book of the Law as a
holy text from his guardian angel but I prefer to think of this as
allegorical. This is the kind of thing one says when one thinks
about creating a religion and I am not interested in religion. That
doesn’t mean I am not interested by the philosophies represented by
these religions.
“The
song ‘Love Under Will’ however, has its origin in Crowley’s
novel ‘Diary of a Drug Fiend.’ In the book, an addict is cured by
finding a purpose in his life through following Crowley’s
doctrine. Now, I haven’t been a saint in the drugs department
but there was one thing I had noticed. The more stuff I was
doing with the band, the less interest I had in getting off my
face. I started working pretty hard with Blood and Roses and was
pretty much straight during the time I played with them. If we’re
talking about the period before or immediately after, that’s a
whole different ball game.
“Give
away lines like “Chinese water bites at me” may hint at both the
famous torture and certain extracts of the fruit of the poppy.
“The
sleeve notes are influenced diatribe but influenced as much by
anarchist philosophies as by Crowley. Certain magickal musicians
have described these notes as hippy drivel but these are the kind of
guys who are a little too overly enthusiastic about Norse mythology
for their own good – if you catch my drift. Once again, there
was an influence drawn from the linear notes of ‘The Psychedelic
Sounds of the Thirteenth Floor Elevators’ at work but, looking back
, the words are quite touchingly naive and passionate. I think
the music says it better but I’m certainly not ashamed by what’s
written there.”
For
such serious content, the music seems almost contradictory being as
upbeat and structurally rock-n-roll.
Bob,
“Firstly, much of the early Blood and Roses material was in this
style musically. “Curse On You”, “Paradise” an d “Jesus”
all fitted into this style as did the cover versions we played like
“Strychnine” and “Louie Louie”. The rolling drums of
later material came further down the track. I think it is safe to say
that this was one of the few examples of this form we got around to
recording.
“Musically.
I hear the Thirteenth Floor Elevator’s “Roller Coaster” played
over a first album Stooges bass line and sped up to Ramone’s speed.
Throw in a Johnny Thunder’s guitar solo for icing and I think
you’ve pretty much got it. I’ve always wanted to do a version of
it more at a dirge speed.”
The
track “Spit Upon Your Grave” is credited as a collaboration
between the entire band while the title (as well as Blood And Roses’
predilection towards horror and b-movies) suggests the name of the
cult, rape/revenge film “I Spit On Your Grave” AKA “Day of The
Woman”.
Bob,
“In actual fact, I think a long like “Some Like it Hot” is more
an example of a song writing collaboration than “Spit on your
Grave” because the song writing credit emerges out of the fact that
the music was initially built up out of a jam.
“The
lyrics were written in advance. There was a fair bit of debate and
hysteria in the air about so called “Video Nasties”. A lot
of the pressure was emerging from right wing Christian groups and
Mary Whitehouse would have been their poster child if only she was a
hundred years younger and they had found a much larger sheet of paper
to hold her bulk.
“The
lyrics were constructed using a variation on Burrough’s cut up
technique. I took a newspaper article on one of Whitehouse’s
attacks on films like “Driller Killer” and “I spit on your
grave.” I found a paragraph on medieval witch hunts and wrote a
page of utterly pornographic filth. I cut them up and played
with the words.
It
wasn’t entirely random. I was looking to make connections with
phrases. I was hoping to make the song a kind of Sister Ray and so I
convinced everyone to jam a melody. The final form of the song isn’t
too different to the first jam session though I did add those guitar
riffs later to give it more form.
“For
the record, I don’t believe in the censorship of art. I don’t
believe in classifications. Despite their vile reputations, I
believe there is great artistic merit in films like “Driller
Killer”, “Cannibal Holocaust”, “Salo”, “Caligula
(Uncut)” and “Baise Moi”. All these films have been or remained
banned in various parts of the world. Unfortunately, I think ‘I
Spit On Your Grave’ is vile exploitation fodder of the lowest
kind. Over the years it seems to have gained some kind of
feminist credibility. However, I suspect the feminists in question
are really seedy old men whose only interest is masturbation and then
justifying themselves on the internet. Whilst I have no problem
with masturbation in itself, I do have problems with anyone who would
masturbate whilst this was on their television. Do I want the film
banned? Of course not. If I don’t like a film, I don’t have
to watch it. Besides, I might watch it again one day and see
something in it I didn’t see before. Perhaps I will see a
different sub text rather than the all too obvious cross referencing
of sex, violence and death. I doubt it.”
She
grips to silent paranoia
A
victim of the changing times
She
killed the girl her so called lover
And
drowned in seas of rhythm rhyme
And
as she lies in her death mask
I
spit upon her grave
Finally,
the cover art reconfirmed the lyrical sentiments.
Bob,
“That was drawn by Dave and Fod but I’d sort of told them
what was supposed to be in the picture. They kind of ran with
the theme. The central colour concept came as a tribute to the first
“Thirteenth Floor Elevator” album. In many ways, I held
that up as the central totem even though I don’t think anyone even
had a copy at that point of time. I wanted a semi mystical sleave
notes and a psychedelic cover but the printers shied away from the
exactly specified colour shades because they thought the original red
and green clashed too much and we must have made a mistake.
“The
dancing skeletons stabbing each other in the back were symbolic of
how the world seemed to be. It related to the song
Necromantra. You could take it as superpowers, businessmen or
lovers. The deceit of their actions had led them to mutual
destruction. The exploding clock suggested time was running out.
“The
front cover also contained the planetary symbols for Jupiter, Mercury
and Venus. (Jupiter because this was a commercial endeavor and the
success of the message was reliant on successful entry in the market
place. Mercury as the messenger and the creator of musical
instruments and Venus, of course, for love.)
“The
rear cover depicts a Golden Horus framed by the signs of the zodiac
and contained within a Yin and Yang symbol. Fairly straight forward
imagery, really, centered around a central theme of balance. A
problem on the front cover and a solution on the rear.”
In
many ways, the themes of this record further reflected some of the
other interests unique to the Kill Your Pet Puppy group.
Bob,
“I know a lot of people have trouble with this Magick and mysticism
stuff but it is probably best addressed in terms of a separate
language. Through the use of the short cuts of symbolism, I can
communicate a series of ideas far easier than I can through
conventional words. If I use terms like Bat Cave, Goth and
Anarcho Punk, I equally create a kind of short hand. If I’m
writing to you, you immediately recognise those terms and we can
convey broad concepts easily. With other people, If I told them
that The Specimen were a kind of Bat Cave band they’d think of Adam
West and Burt Ward.
“For
me, a great part of the appeal of Crowley’s philosophy came out of
what was lacking in Anarchist philosophies. Whilst Anarchists spent
much time identifying power structures and talked about the
corrupt nature of the system, there was very little thought about how
individuals could find a way to define themselves in terms outside of
the system. I think Crass’ overall popularity would have dipped
substantially if their set list had contained such titles as “Let’s
plant the crops”, “Together we can make a windmill” and “I’m
happy cleaning the latrine.” Ultimately, these are the your
major concerns when the revolution comes and they don’t fit into
the romantic fantasy.
“Crowley
talked about looking into yourself and finding your strengths and
developing them. If this sounds like the modern “literature” that
clogs up the self help section of your book shop, that’s not
surprising. These are ideas that have now permeated the main
stream but in a form that is driven towards financial rather than
personal reward.
“Do
I believe in spells and magic charms? Most definitely. But
not in the way you might understand the concept. To write
replies to your questions, I had to go through the ritual of setting
up my computer and gathering my reference material so I could make
sure I didn’t misspell anyone’s name. It is a spell to achieve a
recognized goal. Likewise, charms remind me of purpose and my
decision to take a certain path. They are tools to help me
achieve what it is I want to achieve.”
The
following year, the group released the aforementioned “Life After
Death” cassette on 96 Tapes, a cassette only label that released
music from Subhumans, Faction, The Mob and others.
Bob,
“Either Andy Martin or Rob had already put out a cassette with a
live performance at the Clarendon. The Mob were on one side and we
were on the other. It wasn’t like a contract thing. It was all
pretty underground. I remember being asked and I just said okay. It
was no big deal and there was no money involved. I just wanted people
to hear us.
“’Life
after Death’ emerged because I was being literally inundated with
blank cassettes asking for copies of demos. When it got to the point
that I seemed to be doing ten hour days answering mail and dubbing
cassettes, I think it would be fair to say I’d had enough.
“Rob
had been in a band called Faction with Fod (Love Under Will artwork)
and Martin who both lived upstairs from me. I can’t remember
if Faction ever got around to playing but I do remember sitting under
their rehearsals. Rob was already doing 96 Tapes and he offered to
take over responsibility. It wasn’t a money thing but a lot of
tapes went out and no-one was more surprised than me when the thing
got a five star review in Sounds.”
The
tenth release for this extremely successful tape label that would be
related to All The Madmen, the group had stumbled into the peak of
cassette culture.
Bob,
“I think we stumbled in by accident and found ourselves right at
the cutting edge. Cassettes were like how the internet is now.
It was a way to distribute music without the constraints of capital
or industry. Of course, the internet is becoming more difficult now
as it becomes more of a business thing.”
With
the success of their first 12” and a distribution deal with
Communique, the group released their 1985 follow-up single on their
own Audiodrome Records.
Bob,
“Essentially, we were Audiodrome records. The name came as a
variation on the title of David Cronenberg’s film Videodrome. In
the run-out of the original album, the words “Long Live the New
Flesh” are carved in tribute. The theory was we were creating music
that would bury its way into people’s head and change them
inexplicably just as the hidden signal on the television had fucked
with James Wood in the film. Whilst this is utterly preposterous in
reality, this is essentially the true nature and purpose of all art;
to make a connection between artist and audience that is some way
affecting I guess you could call Audiodrome Records an
allegorical record company. Because it targets itself directly to
emotions, I believe that music has the potential to invoke
a revolutionary change of mind and spirit. If Blood and Roses and
Audiodrome had a mission statement, it involved the breakdown of
the corporate control mechanism; the “signal” within the
music triggered a response that led to liberation, of course, there
was no real signal. This was a metaphor for what we perceived as
the spirit or emotional core of the music.
“Audiodrome
came about because Communiqué in Norwich was willing to distribute.
We simply did not have the resources to fund a record
label. Communiqué provided an advance to record and, based off
of that, they distributed a certain number of records. There was
supposed to then be further negotiations if they wanted to distribute
more. Despite watching twenty copies of it vanish from the
Virgin Megastore in Oxford Street in a day and it selling out
everywhere, it was never repressed even after it got a five star
review in Sounds.”
The
first release for this new label was the “(Some) Like It Hot” 7”
and 12” single.
Lisa,
“Love,
Sex, Drugs ,Pleasure, Pain. Whatever makes you feel. I suppose to me,
some like it hot means the extremes; obsession, possession. To drink
from whichever vessel you’re drinking from until it’s empty and
then move on.
“Very
vampiric in a lot of ways. Like a lot of things sometimes if you lay
things out too clearly about what you might be doing they wont
draw their own picture.”
Bob,
“Lyrically,
I wrote one verse and the Chorus so I’ll only talk about the bits I
wrote. You can ask Lisa about the verse she wrote.
“I
was fairly obviously writing about Sex; total mind fucking sex. The
kind of sex that makes you utterly oblivious to the universe. The
kind of sex where hours vanish and the desire to surrender to that
oblivion and the feeling of soul deep completion that creates. It
also touches on the darker side of those moments; obsession and
addiction.
“Hardly
world shaking stuff (unless you are in an environment where everybody
else is writing sexless songs about the state of the world). The
song is just called “Some Like it Hot” without stupid brackets.
In the mastering studio, there was some concern this might be
confused with the Duran Duran spinoff band (Power Station?) single of
the same name that they’d mastered the week before. Cue stupid
brackets.
“The
run out on the seven inch vinyl bears the legend ‘No thanks to
DD.’”
Summer
screams of Soft Caress
The
mounting of desire
The
whispered breath of scented sweat
The
fuel onto the fire
Musically,
it’s one of their greatest results with Lisa’s perfect vocal
delivery exactly suited to the bouncing, demented rockabilly meets
Birthday Party riff.
Bob,
“Musically, the song began with what became the bass line of the
chorus. Ralph gave it to me and asked me if I could turn it into
anything. He thought it sounded like a verse riff. I was really
going for a kind of Glam/Rockabilly feel as I started to piece the
rest of it together. Initially, it was just going to be a big T-rex
meets the Stray Cats kind of thing relying on a verse riff with
chords in the chorus. That, however, did sound a little too like
the Birthday Party for its own good. That isn’t entirely
surprising given the fact that we grew up in a very similar
scene to similar TV and radio.
“I
wasn’t completely happy until I tried the abrupt minor 7th Chord
chops. I’d been listening to a lot of Chic and how they used rhythm
guitar to drive the song – not that you’d notice by the brutal
kind of chopping I employed.
“I
think the music really suited Lisa’s style of vocal delivery
perfectly and it shows in the phrasing of the words.”
Lisa,
“Once
again it was brilliant getting into the studio Every time we went in
we learnt something new and something new got added to the sound.
It’s like being given a big canvas to draw on with a totally
different set of colors.
“I
loved working out new harmonies and backing tracks. Had total trust
in Ralph and he was just part of the band. Bob could put extra
guitars over, exactly the way he wanted. Messing about with samples.
Drums cutting in so you can feel them all running like an engine with
the bass. Can’t speak for the others but I loved going in the
studio.”
The
12” version of the single included a cover version of sorts with
the band marching through the theme music from the film “Escape
From New York”. In their live set, the group had been known to do
other soundtrack material.
Bob,
“We’d
already been playing the theme from “Assault on Precinct 13” for
a long time. It had started as just a jam and somehow become an
intricate part of the set. We often opened with it and recorded
it for the John Peel show. We then included it on the
album. Quite simply, we did that because we liked the song and
you couldn’t get it on a record. The Pet Shop Boy’s Neil
Tennant (In his pre stardom capacity as scathing rock scribe)
described it as a toneless drone before ripping the tune off for a
Pet Shop Boys songs with no credit to the writer, John Carpenter.
“We
were kind of experimenting with synthesizers, a device we had no
access to outside of the studio. I had the rough idea of what I
wanted the music to “Enough is Never Enough” to sound like but I
wanted to try to recreate something first so I’d at least have
half a clue to what I was doing. It was done very quickly by Ralph
and I. He did the arpeggios and I did the rest. It only took an
hour or two and we thought it would be good as a B-side. I
still get a kick out of listening to it.
“How
did I get interested in soundtrack music? Shit. Isn’t that the
first kind of music any kid loves? They all run round the
playground singing the songs from movies and TV (and now Playstation
too). Soundtrack music is very evocative and that direct emotional
connection it draws from an audience is something a musician
will always be keen to plug into.”
While
actually covering soundtrack material only made a few appearances in
the group’s set, soundtrack music loomed large in the groups
approach.
Bob,
“On a personal level, I was very influenced by the music of Goblin
(who scored the films of Dario Argento). The music for “Enough
is Never Enough” came to me under the spell of there theme for
‘Suspiria’. Okay, it sounds nothing like it but I was trying
to write something that would have that same kind of inevitable
gravity. I’m talking about the recreation of an emotional response
so it is very difficult to qualify this in words. I do know that, if
you play “Enough is Never Enough” through some kick arse
speakers, everyone in the room turns and pays attention when
those first notes hit.
“You
wouldn’t have to look far to find touches of John Barry and Ennio
Morricone in the guitar parts. I’d never stoop so low as to go for
a direct steal but you can hear a certain essence in the solo of
“Tomorrow” and the unreleased “Sins of the Chimera” had more
than a touch of spaghetti western about it.
“Of
course, you don’t have to go very far into popular music to find
these influences but many of them are received third and fourth
hand. Whilst, the Ant’s Marco Pirroni obviously worshipped at
the shrine of Link Wray and Morricone, how many of his imitators (and
there were many in what became known as Goth music) were as
knowledgeable of their roots? Anyone hearing the theme to, say,
“The Ipcress File” would probably feel a twinge of familiarity,
few would name it and fewer still identify John Barry as the composer
even though it is absolutely typical of his style.
“The
opening section of the LP version of “Breakdown” is pure
soundtrack but not openly derivative of any obvious source.
It is music to create a landscape in the mind of the
listener. However, in another sense, I consider all of Blood and
Roses’ music to be soundtrack. They create a landscape for the
lyrics to inhabit.
“Since
Blood and Roses I have composed and performed musical scores for
theatre and independent video productions. I am particularly
proud of a soundtrack I wrote for a film called ‘Makers of the
Dead’.
“As
for soundtracks I currently admire, well Angelo Badalamenti’s work
with David Lynch is always tremendous and Howard Shore, whilst
somewhat tainted by his work on the Lord of the Rings, is great with
David Cronenberg. I love his score to ‘Crash’. I am a great fan
of Italian horror soundtracks but these often are counter pointed by
cheesy travelogue music that works to the detriment of the whole.”
The
cover art was once again striking and original this time coming from
Lisa.
Bob,
“Lisa did the cover art to the “Enough is Never Enough” LP and
the “Some Like it Hot” singles. Other than saying how much I
like them, I don’t feel I’m the one qualified to talk about
meaning.”
Lisa,
“The
cover was a drawing from one of my note books. We had to edit out the
lines when we took it in for print and then had it enlarged. I tend
to draw from my subconscious; I rarely have a particular idea in
mind. Sometimes it’ll be a pattern I see in the actual paper and
then go from there. That’s how that particular one started, then
kept seeing other things sprouting out of an eye or a limb, then
turned it upside down and saw a completely different character... It
was suggestive enough to use for the cover.”
The
quasi-surreal, psycho-sexual imagery worked perfectly with the themes
of the song though the artwork was entirely inspired out of Lisa’s
subconscious.
Lisa,
“Had been drawing, sketching, doodling as far back as I can
remember. I probably used a pencil before I could speak, was three
when I first started to talk and then they’d give me a pencil and
paper to keep me quiet.
“My
granddad was a Methodist minister. My Nan would give me something to
draw on through his sermons just in case I piped up in my broken
German accent. Being bald and bandy also I wouldn’t of collected
the cute vote either, so was strapped into my pram with special
straps that they, de got the blacksmith to design as I had a bad
habit of escaping most forms of bondage and charging off (apparently
sideways like a crab.) when things got a bit quiet. Unless given
something to draw with.”
That
same year, the group released what would be their final record, the
“Enough Is Never Enough” LP.
Bob,
“I
think all you have to do is listen to that LP and you’ll hear how
much we all enjoyed studio work. All modesty not withstanding,
I think ‘Enough is Never Enough’ is a tremendous record. It
far exceeds what I hoped it would be like and comes damn close to
what I dreamed it could sound like. I was working at a level that was
literally above myself. When I wrote the counter piano line for ‘Your
Sin is your salvation’ I was staggered by how well it fitted
together.
“Today
I listen to it and all I want to add is a 12 string acoustic on
Roles. And I would have liked to hit ‘Tomorrow’ at about
10bpm slower. Considering how much goes into an album, that’s a
fairly small list of complaints.
“Clearly,
there was a lot of experimentation going on. It was really
interesting and I wish I was doing it all the time. If there was any
kind of market for what I do, I’d probably want to pump an album
out once a month until I carc it.”
Lisa,
“That
is really hard to say. If I had it in front of me now to listen to I
mean I might be able to tell you. I remember that was one of my
favorite tracks and the lyrics which had been written separately
working really well with the music.”
Whatever
here it seems a little dreary
However
you feel you seem a little weary
Gotta
get, got to feel
Got
to scream, got to steal
Got
to know a little bit more
It’s
not enough
No
enough is never enough
Lisa,
“Once again really did enjoy it. Used more sounds and samples which
added more atmosphere, more keyboards really made you feel as if
you’d only just got started on what you could eventually achieve.
Once we left the studio we were all pretty happy with it and if no
one else liked it I don’t think it would have mattered. So happy
but knackered we piled into our taxi and then back to lay down our
weary heads.
“The
taxi driver then after about 10 minutes cursed under his breath and
the local friendly police car stopped him to check his license.
Fortunately for Mr. Cabby he had four sleepy(but yet still happy)
freaks in the back of his vehicle who looked far more a threat to
society than even our shabby cabby.
“After
much tucking and dropping and swallowing we were asked to leave the
comfort and warmth of the car to be searched and questioned by
the roadside and then had to wait for the van to arrive to take us to
the local nick, myself in handcuffs that were put on me after a brief
argument as to our destination. Then another disagreement over what
they now call a cavity search, I was given the choice of a women
police officer or two men if I kept complaining. I went for the first
choice as you can imagine. After several hours the not so happy went
home and to bed.”
Bob,
“I
laid down all the synth tracks for the song ‘Enough is Never
Enough’ in about an hour an half. I was so excited about it. I
thought it was just an instrumental. I thought it was perfect and
that it couldn’t get any better. The best bit was coming back
a couple of days later and hearing the vocals Lisa had written and
put over the track. Sometimes it is great to be proved wrong.
“Hearing
the playback of the “Some Like it Hot” guitar solo was pretty
good too. I just thought ‘I nailed that fucker good!’
“But
seriously, I just love that record from go to whoa. I’d have bought
it even if I hadn’t played on it.
“The
‘Love Under Will’ 12” had been a big disappointment to me
because it lost so much at the mastering stage. Listening to the
cassette that came off of the desk in comparison to the vinyl was
quite shocking. The drums sounded great but the mids had been
stripped and with them went the guitars. Saul Galpern bought it down
to a club we were playing and I was so enraged I grabbed the fucker
and put him over a table. I am not a particularly violent person so I
must have been quite pissed off.
“The
other problem with ‘Love Under Will’ was it was the wrong single
at the wrong time. It was an underground record that would have
sounded amazing without the hype but it wasn’t the kind of release
that warranted the front page of the NME and articles in the Face. I
had asked Kamera Records to hold back on Love Under will and let us
record something additional like Tomorrow as a fully fledged A-side
with broader appeal. A song like that would have rode the hype
better and gotten wider airplay. Kamera had the tapes they had
and just wanted to cash in on the unexpected bounty of media
interest.
“I’m
not saying that ‘Love Under Will’ was inherently a bad record.
Mastering aside, it succeeded in being what we intended for it to
be. It was not, however, a record that demanded overnight
success. We received our overnight success in between the time it
took to record the record and press it and the vinyl didn’t back us
up. They were too busy thinking about shifting 4,000 copies in a
week when they should have been thinking about shifting 400,000 over
a five year period. They could have had that with another 600
pounds worth of studio time that would have come out of our end
anyway. Probably the worst things about capitalists are they are so
short sighted and generally stupid. Even the smart guys are
stupid.
“If,
however, you listen to the John Peel session that was recorded a
couple of weeks later, you hear a band that could shake the world.
The Peel session provided me with enough courage in my
convictions to not run and hide. I think a lot of people crave fame
for its own sake but when you achieve some fame and you don’t seem
to have anything to back it up with, well… let’s just say it
didn’t sit very well with me. The Peel sessions were at least
some proof we had something to offer.
“Finally,
‘Enough is Never Enough’ felt like vindication to me. I can point
at that and say, ‘See, we were that damn good. It wasn’t all
total bullshit’.
“If
it hadn’t been for the LP, I probably would never mention Blood and
Roses to anyone. And the ‘(Some) like it Hot’ single was
fantastic. That thing really deserved some kind of success but I
don’t think it received one play on the radio ever. There have been
a couple of times that I’ve been DJing and, to satisfy my
curiosity, I’ve slipped it into a set between (say) T-Rex and The
Cramps and there was no sign of it clearing the dance floor. I don’t
tell anyone what it is or my connection to it. Whilst I do have a
monstrous ego, it isn’t that monstrous.
“Watching
people dance to it just makes me happy.”
Once
again, the unnerving cover art was supplied from Lisa’s work.
Lisa,
“The cover was the fallen angel. Contentment seems impossible
sometimes. If you’ve got it all what do you strive for? Why can’t
I eat that apple? What does it taste like? What’s going to happen
if I eat it? Paradise, Heaven if you believe those fairytales it
isn’t enough anyway.”
One
of the biggest failures of the group was the lack of touring. But it
wasn’t out of lack of desire.
Lisa,
“Ha! I wish we had toured more. Remember waiting for the van (no
tour bus.) to arrive on one little outing and then rather
dramatically smashing into the lamppost, looked into the window to
see the driver and navigator goofing out with something that ran on
foil. We piled into the back wall to wall people, mattresses and band
equipment. The driver chasing the dragon while the navigator
navigated the lighter under the foil. A kind of kaleidoscope of
memories, Northern graveyards, irate vicars, drugs in toilets,
students not paying so taking their equipment instead. I don’t know
it just didn’t really happen for us.”
In
fact, the drug issue was more and more a factor in the band leading
to the sacking of tragic figure Jes.
Bob,
“It
was always difficult for us to get gigs. When we did get gigs, I
tended just to get in the back of the van. The doors would fly
open and there you’d be at the back entrance of some pub somewhere
getting ready to play to two men and a dog and, quite often, the dog
had been left on his own.
“There
were also some problems with touring that not every band has. Jes
had developed quite a fierce habit and there were quite a few
occasions where we’d ended up sitting in a van waiting for him to
show up before we left. This placed us in a fairly limiting
position when it came to touring.
“It
gave me the opportunity to talk to journalists about touring being an
unnecessary ancient concept based on redundant Viking ideals of
rape and pillage. I talked about how the music video was making such
methods of promotion obsolete. It made me sound wildly
prophetic.
“Finally,
we were supposed to be playing Brighton and we couldn’t find him
anywhere. We had to cut our losses and it worked quite well. Ralph
Jezzard had been the engineer on the “Love Under Will” sessions
and we knew he played bass. He also lived half way down to
Brighton.
“Well,
it turned out Ralph played really well and fitted in. He could
play hard and he could also give a song space.
“I
think getting the boot was a bit of a wakeup call for Jes and he
ended up going into rehab and sorting himself out. Unfortunately,
it didn’t turn out to be the fairy tale ending it should have been
because he died in a traffic accident almost immediately after his
release. He had gone to the Hope and Anchor, gotten drunk and walked
into traffic.
“Jes’
piano playing on the extended mix of ‘Necromantra’ was absolutely
beautiful. He should have bounced back and become the musician
he wanted to be. He was very serious about what he did and what
happened to him was dreadful and unfair.
“Over
the years, I’ve heard lot of idiots talk about curses and try to
link it in with ‘black’ magick. The reality is that drink and
drugs can fuck with you big time. Most of us involved with this band
managed to escape the worst consequences of our actions. (The truth
is, most drug users do.) Last time I talked to Lisa, both of us
seemed amazed we were both alive, sane and generally healthy for a
pair of old buggers.
“Some
might say that Blood and Roses’ failed because of their involvement
with drugs but that isn’t really true either. As I have said,
I have only ever really got myself in trouble with drugs and drink
when I haven’t had anything to really focus on. The truth of
the matter is, I am ultimately quite work obsessed. When I set
about achieving an artistic goal, I will pretty much dedicate
myself to the task at hand.
“Likewise,
I believe the worst excesses of my comrades occurred in the fallow
periods. I’m not saying any of us were saints but it wasn’t an
impairment.”
A
later line-up got as far as the tracking stage with new material. But
the band eventually split before they could be completed.
Bob,
“There were some recordings made towards that end but they remained
incomplete. However, as Cherry Red are talking about doing an
anthology, some of these tracks might finally emerge. I haven’t
heard the tapes so I’m not sure what is there and what is not. I’d
certainly hope some of these songs are at least at rough mix level
that would enable them to be unleashed on an unsuspecting public. If
they’re not of a suitable quality for a CD release, I’ll see if I
can get them up on the internet for the curious.”
With
the middle part of the ‘80s being a jumble of different line-ups,
it’s hard to say when the band split if they in fact did split at
all!
Bob,
“Hmmm. I’m not one hundred per cent sure we have. Okay, back
in ’83 we called it quits because we had had all that hype and then
we couldn’t get ourselves arrested. In 1985 we got back together
without Richard to do the album. Parrot stepped in and
demonstrated to me that a band is no better than the engine you build
it up off of. Parrot ran a pretty tight engine. We toured
for a bit but then Lisa was pregnant and we had to pull back a
little.
“We
started work on the second album and it was sounding really
good. Lisa and Ralph were writing songs and they were really
good. Ralph kept showing me guitar lines and he was saying to
play them this way or that way and it seemed a little ridiculous so,
quite often, I just told him to play the lines the way he wanted to.
It wasn’t a really big ego thing on my part to be the guitarist. I
played on the songs I wrote but I moved into a different role.
“Parrot was gone and Kate stepped in in her place. Whilst she wasn’t as good a drummer as Parrot, she was such a fantastic human being that I couldn’t say a wrong word about her.
“There
was some talk about going to New York and I couldn’t see how we
would be able to pull that off. We didn’t have any money.
We weren’t rehearsed enough. I took a sideways step and thought
they’d go on without me but it didn’t happen.
“Ralph
and Lisa continued to record stuff including the amazing song
‘Heaven’. A few years later I was playing with Lisa again. I
can’t remember if we even thought about what name we played
under and we certainly played a lot of Blood and Roses material. We
did a fantastic gig to an empty room in Herne Hill. I don’t
remember anyone saying that was it. We just haven’t played a
gig since is all.”
Lisa,
“Things
just happened really and we found it harder and harder to get
together. Jez our bass player had died. Ralph was now playing bass
and that was fine. We had got together anyway and then I got
pregnant. For me it became pretty impossible after I’d had our son
J.J and so eventually Bob got on with new things and the band stopped
playing. We stayed in touch until Bob moved to Australia. Ralph and I
stayed together for 12 years and then Ralph got married and moved to
America.”
Bob,
“Well,
a lot of us kept on going to do a variety of things. Ralph went off
and produced EMF’s “Unbelievable” single. As you can
imagine, his services are now somewhat in demand. Rob from 96
tapes moved from running off endless copies of ‘Life After Death’
into a nice little music business career.
“I
continue to scavenge on the edge of the industry. I’ve played in
bands like Seksmisja, Junkyard Blues and Psychobeat. None of
them ever achieved any real measure of success but we played some
great gigs.
“These
days, I score videos and theatrical productions. I continue to play
in a number of bands but my favored musical project is Full On!. We
kick butt pretty big time and, last time we played, we finished with
‘Spit on Your Grave’ and ‘Louie Louie’ which might be an
interesting notion for people who used to go to see Blood and Roses.
Our original material is fucking stunning too and I refuse to feign
modesty. Unfortunately, we play on the edge of what used to be
known as empire so it might be difficult for anyone to come and see
us. You should, however, consider yourself more than welcome.”
Lisa,
“After
Blood and Roses I wrote and sang with Slabmatic. We were together for
a year or so and came out with some good stuff as far as I was
concerned but finally gave it up.”
Twenty
years later, there’s probably still a lot more to be said about
Blood and Roses.
Bob,
“These
days I generally reflect on the band through fifteen thousand word
responses to email interviews. Last year, I also wrote a book
entitled “Trash Can” and that gave me the opportunity to reflect
on a whole lot of stuff.”
Lisa,
“I
look back on that time with a lot of affection, it wasn’t just a
music scene it was a way of life. We were surrounded by creative
unique and very talented people in all different kinds of ways.
People all experimenting in different ways. Art, music, politics,
drugs, magick, sexuality. You name it there was someone onto it. We
created our own little community’s through squatting, gigs,
attitudes and basically just surviving it all. And of course there
was those who didn’t survive. But would not have missed it for the
world, it will always be a very big part of who I am now…”
Bob,
“No,
I think I’m done. Except I think it would also be good to
raise a glass to SOOoo who did backing vocals on ‘Necromantra’
and is also no longer with us. I hope everyone else is alive and
well.”
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