Anyone whose ever had anything to do with musical collectives will tell you that one of the biggest stumbling blocks in the 'getting the act together' process is finding and agreeing on the name. I've known potentially exciting combos that never got out of the rehearsal room because they couldn't agree on what to call themselves. Looking back across my involvement in music I've always been reasonably happy with the chosen titles (the ones in bold are my own efforts):
Dr. Syn: The village band I was a part of during my teenage years. Playing covers of popular hits during the time of Glam.
Wet Licks: A band I was recruited into from the nearby town of Harrogate. Playing Dr. Feelgood type R&B tunes.
625 Lines: The punk band I formed after seeing the Anarchy In The U.K. tour.
Neural Circus: The post punk electronic band I formed after the demise of 625 Lines.
The Mighty Red Fish: Four guitarists and a drum machine. I'm told we sounded similar to the 3 Johns (whoever they were).
Moo: The last 'serious' band I was in. Playing complicated Jazz Fusion type tunes around York while I shouted in tune over the top of them.
The rest of the band wanted to be The Meters. I wanted to be The Pop Group but we ended up being compared to Talking Heads mainly because I insisted on wearing a big suit I think.
The Interceptors: A Rock n' Roll revival band that stopped me writing my own songs for two years and ended up falling apart in acrimony.
I still use both 625 Lines and Neural Circus for various sonic experiments.
Which brings me to the new ensemble I've helped create.
Beheld: A vehicle for my most recent songs and The Girl On A Wire's love of Alt. Country songs by the likes of William Oldham (she may want me to adjust that description but it's the best I can come up with).
St. Anley is a died-in-the-wool fokie and a little confused about what's going on at the moment which doesn't matter in the slightest as the contribution he makes with his concertina sets the backdrop for The Girl On A Wire and myself perfectly.
After the Wukulele Festival has passed I hope to put together an E.P.
This will come as a surprise to The Girl On A Wire and St. Anley as I haven't told them yet but the most important thing is we're all happy with the name.
(Should I add the definite article I wonder?)
11 comments:
You avoided 'Behowl', then.
i'll have you know i do not 'howl'. ever.
jane
You've got to admire Mr. PSM's ability to type with both his bullet ridden feet in his mouth.
Ms Mouse: I prefer it when they howl- it upsets the people next door when they realise that you're having a better time than they are.
OSM: I am amazed daily at the number of things that I can do, which mostly excepts the things I really want to be able to do (play guitar, play badminton, act, sing, ...).
Being in a band is the best thing ever. I was in several in my youth, namely:
Sketch for Summer
Red Hot Orgy of Decadence
The Mighty Jungle Beasts
The Mighty Jungle Beasts actually made an EP even though we never actually played a single gig. Happy Days...
'Behowl' is from Shakespeare*. Did he have bullet-ridden** feet in his mouth, then? 'Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams'.***
* A Midsummer Night's Dream Act 5 Scene 2
**Note placing of hyphen to indicate definitively that there are no bullet feet nor ridden feet here. A useful adjunct to clarity, punctuation, I always think. Still, OSM, you did well with the apostrophes.
*** W. B. Yeats 'He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven'
Life is a learning experience I always say.
If it isn't, you're b*gg*r*d.
Surely, 'learning' is available to all.
Unfortunately, there are those who sabotage others' learning by insisting on trying to 'teach' things like English grammar.
Such people use vaguely disguised Anglo-Saxon expletives beginning with 'b', followed by asterisks and ending in’d’.
Then they go on to pompously invoke classical literature.
Tread softly, my friend!
Today I learned the chord construction in the musical key of A-major.
Nobody taught me …
“I worked it out!” (Stephen Hawking)
Wait. Who is "parkingspaceman?" Is he the same as "Outa_Spaceman?" I don't get it. Nothing new there. I do get Inconsequential Nonsense, though. In fact, it is my life. And next, I am going to go peruse Sundry Mortifications, because those 2 words could pretty much sum up my experiences in the larger world these past two years. So PSM shot himself in the feet? Did I miss that? The thing of it is to always ACT like you are having more fun than the ppl next door... even if, really, you are just behowling in order to be a show off. I am trying to get my jug band, Les Petites Sangliers de la Ruche, to perform at The Partridge Hill Poultry Palace, but I am STILL the only member of the band, which is yet another Sundry Mortification. Like spelling... and pretending to know French... and rambling randomly in comments that are better kept short. I like Shakespeare, and Stephen Hawking. And Yeats. I like A-major but I am more fond of A-minor. A major and a miner walked into a pub... note the use of "pub" rather than the more American "bar." Somehow I think this is all going to become another Sundry Mortification.
Le,
PSM is certainly not OSM.
Let's call him, for want of a better description, my bargain basement nemesis.
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