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Lost Psychedelic Classics
 
by Phil Thornton
 

 

 

Uncle Ernie’s Ingrowing Toenail Trifle Band – Journey Through Black Into Blue And Beyond (Gnnnnnaaaaarrrrrr!) – Conch, 1967

 

Ernesto Klimt aka ‘Uncle Ernie’ was a Swiss linesman who visited Swinging London as part of the 66 World Cup tournament. After a night out with various other linesmen in which they visited the infamous Flying Saucer club in Leicester Square, Ernesto took his first LSD trip and got turned on to three month long sitar solos. His linesmanship literally went to pot and he soon gave up his flag for three way sex with Austrian albino amputees and rodents. This LP was released in the summer of 67, on Klimt’s own Conch label and disappeared without trace after Ernie left London to travel around Sudan with his trusted sidekick and trombonist, Tall Geoff.

 

Sadly Ernie died after a rogue camel kicked him unconscious at a waterhole 300 miles from the nearest village. It was Tall Geoff who found his friend and lover’s body six months later and he was later charged with his murder and stoned by an angry mob. Journey Through Black Into Blue remains one of the strangest records of the era with Ernie pioneering the use of industrial machinery in a musical context. The double LP is infact one long track consisting of a single note produced by a specially adapted trombone welded to a lathe. Now regarded as a minimalist masterpiece, the LP sadly only sold four copies upon release all of which were purchased by Ernie’s biggest fan, Nobby Stiles.

 

The Terence Pluto Sound – Solar Texas (Olde Salop, 1969)

 

The TPS were originally a trad-jazz sextet featuring Jelly Roll Haughton on piano, Dizzy Cavanagh on trumpet, Art Custard on drums, Pharaoh Sausage on alto sax, Mr Acker Milk on clarinet and Terence Pluto on mouth organ and violin. Originally called The Deaf Dumb & Blind Boys From Douglas, Isle Of Man they were a permanent fixture on the P&O ferry circuit. However, after catching a young Jimi Hendrix playing All Along The Watchtower at The Nag’s Head in Peel, Terence Pluto ditched trad for psyche and the TPS was born.

 

Disillusioned with the band’s new direction, Jelly Roll, Dizzy, Pharaoh and Mr Acker all left the band leaving Pluto free to recruit his new band, consisting of five boss-eyed Bulgarian brothers; the infamous Bukar Boys. Solar Texas, a weak pun on Solar Plexus was inspired after the band went to see hit movie, The Alamo and its innovative use of Mexcian Tijuana with free jazz and Bulgarian folk music caused a sensation in the underground rave clubs of Douglas. The band soon became ambassadors for the so-called Swinging Manx Scene and even played before the island’s parliament at a prestigious homosexual birching ceremony/charity gala supper.

 

However, the Bukar Boys became resentful of Pluto’s autocratic manner and stowed away on a deep sea trawler one misty night in 1970 never to be seen again. Rumour had it that the trawlermen traded them as sex slaves to a crazed cult of pagan Faroe Islanders who sacrified them to Thor. Others believe they were abducted by a rogue element of the Icelandic navy and used as human torpedoes during the Cod War. Whatever happened to the Bukar Boys, Pluto never got over their desertion and tragically died when a TT rider ploughed into the back of his mobile chippy in 1983.

 

Romulus Jones & Friends – I Can See Your Dead Soul Baby (Mauve Tonsil, 1968)

 

Mauve Tonsil were one of the hippest of all San Francisco’s psychedelic labels and, although bands such as The Dinny Skippers, Spoongut Footrot and The Cilicon Sidewinders became more successful, it was Romulus Jones & Friends who were the real love children’s favourites. Gideon Goldberg aka Romulus Jones was a practising rabbi and sometime stand-up comic at The Sacramento Stitch-In-Time club owned by legendary mob boss, Giancarlo ‘The Finger’ Guto. It was after an argument with Guto over a routine that poked fun at various pasta dishes, that Goldberg fled to San Francisco and changed his name.

 

Hiding out in the basement of The Snaggle Toothed Oyster Bar, the newly named Romulus Jones teamed up with the bar’s resident country and western band and moulded them into a hippie version of The Surf Kids. Effortlessly fusing ancient Hebrew rabbinical tracts with tight vocal arrangements and way-out ‘moon music,’ The Friends were THE Haight Ashbury house band. However, with a bounty of $10,000 and a lifetime supply of cat food placed on his head, it wasn’t long before The Finger caught up with Jones.

 

At the time all the evidence pointed at Mike ‘The Well-know Anti-Semite’ McTavish, the band’s Mississippi born slide guitar player but ‘Country Mike’ always denied being the ‘Judas’  who kissed Jones on the cheek in return for thirty pieces of silver (and a life-time supply of cat food). Jones’s head was found in a garbage bin over 1000 miles away in Seattle whilst his torso was discovered under a dead cow in a field in Oregon . No-one was ever charged with his murder but Country Mike alluded to his part in the slaying in chapter 13 of his autobiography ‘Booze, Broads, Beeds & How I Set Up That No Good Kike, Romulus Jones’ (Snitch Press, 1983).

 

I Can See Your Dead Soul Baby is more of a comedy routine with musical interludes than a musical recoding interspersed with comedic intros. Tracks such as Yogi Shmogi, Enough Already & The Pope’s A Fag may have been controversial but at their heart is black core of outright misanthropy. This is shmychedelic as only Jones could do.

 

WHERE ARE THEY NOW? # 1 – DAVID SYLVIAN

 

David Sylvian, the foppish singer with gender-bending New Romantic no-marks, Japan once had an army of admirers, both male AND female. With his Lady Di hair-do and amateurishly applied blusher, Delicious Dave (as no-one called him) symbolised all that was fey and frankly silly about 80s synth-pop. Who’d have thought that 25 years later the former pin-up boy for sexually ambiguous teenagers the world over would be the owner of one of the West of Scotland ’s biggest skip hire companies? ‘Syl’s Skips’ is based in the distinctly unglamorous town of Greenock, yet David handles his dealings with angry tinkers and corrupt council officials with the same mixture of girly charm and steely determination that marked him out as one of the unlikeliest hard men of 80s pop.

 

“Running a successful skip hire business with an annual turnover of over two hundred thousand pounds is not that much different from dealing with tasteless record company executives, greedy managers, drunken roadies and self-harming groupies,” the still prettily handsome star declares, with a coquettish flick of his still luxurious but greying fringe, “You’ve got to have a thick skin in this game which is why I wear three layers of foundation and regularly bathe in creosote.”

 

So how did Dave end up going from singing melancholic songs of isolation and loss to hiring out metallic dumps for household waste, industrial shite and asbestos sheds hidden under spunky aul mattresses?

 

“Well I’ve always been fascinated by the skip game, it’s been a passion since I first helped grandpapa empty his stash of kiddy porn into a small half tonner as a child. Even when I was sat on a stool singing haunting lullabies like Ghosts on Top of The Pops, all I could I could think of was owning my very own skip firm. Just to see one belt along the road 30 miles over the speed limit, scaring young mums with their toddlers as planks fell off the back would give me a semi-on. I’d dream about seeing my name on the side in flaking paint and suddenly ruining Smokey Robinson standards just didn’t have the same appeal anymore.  To be honest, I got bored with the music biz and this just seemed like a natural progression. At the end of the day whether you’re playing in front of thousands of adoring fans in stadiums across the world or filling in endless paperwork for the Department for The Environment, it’s all about the same thing; job satisfaction. I can honestly say that hiring out a ten ton skip to a local builder who’s desperate to shift some dodgy chemicals  gives me more pleasure than getting my dick sucked by a fourteen year old Philippino boy in a Copenhagen nightclub toilet.   Look, I never wanted to end up like Martin Kemp doing adverts for crap sofa companies or those losers on Hit Me Baby One More Time. Don’t get me wrong I had a great time living the pop dream but look at what I’ve got here; a four bedroom semi with a conservatory on the back, my own letterheaded paper and a fleet of Nissan Bluebirds from the auction.”

 

Next issue; Blancmange Fly Fishing Accessories                               

 

Swine’s Top 1000 DJs

 

Yes, it’s that time again folks when Swine collects all your votes to see who’s won our prestigious Best DJ In The Whole Wide World award. Once again our list has stirred controversy as allegations of vote rigging continue to be levelled against us, with absolutely no evidence. So, here’s our top 10 as voted by our advertisers, sorry, by YOU, the people who count, our loyal mugs, sorry readers.

 

1 – Arnold Van Muhren ( Holland ) Don’t say the Swine Top 1000 DJs list is predictable. Dutch trance daddy, Vim Van Der Tulip has been ousted as YOUR Numero Uno DJ-o, after 57 years at the top. Arnie, who has been numero deux for 78 years himself was said to be overjoyed at surplanting his one-time mentor and half-brother. So much so that he refused to play at our awards ceremony unless we paid him a cool millions Euros for the honour.

 

2 – Vim Van Der Tulip (Belgium) – it had to happen sooner or later yet the Vimster only lost by an incredible 300,000 votes (or 0.13 % of the total votes cast) and even the intervention as his manager Robert Van Mugabe couldn’t save him this year (although we predict he’ll back at number one next year if he plays our awards ceremony).

 

3 – Rip Van Winkle (Low Countrys) – RVW moved up 658 places thanks largely to his massive fanbase across squaddy camps in Germany . He really is the Forces Darling DJ.

 

4 – Denise Van Outen (UK) – The only female in our top 10 and the only naked drum and bass DJ to ever get in our top 1000. Junglists jump up or something!

 

5 DJ White Van Man (Scotland) – Myles MacTavish aka White Van Man is the Isle Of Bute’s electro-bagpipe mash-up master. See him at a Kwikfit by you soon.

 

6 Van Morrison ( Ireland ) – No 46 : Expert Tony arselicking skills; More reasons to vote for Van Morrisons. Later, Pete!

 

7 Luther Van Dross – (USA) – The king of booty-tech won many fans at Miami this year and is now taking his phat dead ass to Ibiza with Puffy and Felix. Watch out DC10 is all we can say.

 

8 Rude Boy Van Nistel-Roy (Argentina) – The don of Malvinas swingcore, Rudie’s been shaking up dancefloors all the way from Buenos Aires to Port Stanley and is something of a pin-up with sheep of all ages.

 

9 Van Dal Supreme (Norway) – Dark techno wizard of the frozen North, the Scando-perv drops five places after cancelling his operation for a record fifth time.

 

10 Dave Lee Van Travis (UK) – A whopping jump of 989 places for The Hairy Paedophile who has re-launched his career as Bland FM’s  token leftfield downtempo abstract click n’ broken beats DJ.             

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
   
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