BILLY CHILDISH & CTMF - A GLIMPSE OF ANOTHER TIME EP and THE BALLAD OF THE ST. JOHN'S TAVERN

Billy Childish last week released his 983^rd record in the shape of a new four-track EP on Damaged Goods under his current band name, CTMF. What makes this particularly waxing interesting to me is how the title track, ‘A Glimpse of Another Time’, pays tribute to a little piece of unsung London gigging history; that of the Wild Western Room at the St. John’s Tavern in Archway, North London.

“Friday nights, we would play, under the gaze of the IRA. A wagon wheel and a cowboy scene, the JCB man smiling at me. It was a glimpse of another time.”

The cover photograph by Paul Slattery shows Billy fronting Thee Headcoats in their deerstalking glory at the Tavern in 1991. It was an odd little place containing two very different scenes. The main pub was a smoky, tatty, weather-beaten old boozer which a few smoky, tatty, weather-beaten old Irishmen rattled around in. The back room, the Wild Western Room, with its wagon wheel on the ceiling, badly painted cowboy scene on the wall and a giant pair of bull’s horns stuck above the tiny tiered stage built into the corner was the domain, during the week, of a character who operated under the name Slim Chance.

“Slim’s hammer was under the table, […] the PA was on top of the table, some drunken idiot just pulled out the cable. It was a glimpse of another time.”

I never knew Slim’s background and thought it best not to ask too many questions but he put on hundreds of gigs in that place. He was quite a bit older than us, and a lot more lived in: he had faded homemade tattoos on his skinny arms and scraggly curly hair which made him look like a wirier Ian Hunter. The rougher and readier, the more garagey, the more punk, the more outsiderish, the better for Slim. He championed bands other promoters wouldn’t touch and was content to repeatedly book bands who didn’t have a hope in hell of bringing in many punters. Quite how much acts got paid, if at all, was subject to a baffling collection of variables that only Slim could calculate.

“The Armitage Shanks, they were there, the Riot Gurls with boy-cut hair, the Guaranteed Ugly were smiling through, the Fire Department and the audience few. It was a glimpse of another time.”

He’d put on mod type bands, and the 60’s pop-pysch stuff but Thee Headcoats epitomized Slim’s ethos and were the venue’s “star” attraction. It was no bullshit rock & roll, where spirit and attitude counted and musicianship was largely irrelevant. Thee Headcoats were one of only a few bands who drew decent attendances despite nights which featured three or four bands of roughly similar ilk.

My mates and I saw a lot of gigs there in the early to mid-90s and it was a definite influence on starting our own band. If these groups can get away with it so can we, was the thought. And that turned out to be the case with The Electric Fayre. I wasn’t a big fan of Thee Headcoats or Armitage Shanks (did like the Guaranteed Ugly though who we played with) but seeing crudely minimalist bands like that did provide inspiration, or rather courage, to learn three chords and stand there in public and loosely play them repeatedly.  

Almost the only time we played gigs out of Uxbridge was for Slim who was unfazed by our incompetence and was always encouraging. We played there every few weeks for a while; I think on one occasion to five people. Slim didn’t mind and still booked us. We were cheap I suppose. “Give it six months and you lot will be really good” he said once. A prophesy that remained unfulfilled. For reasons never explained one day Slim did a bunk. He dumped his contact book on Paul ‘PJ’ Crittenden, who was helping with the gigs now the nights had moved down the road to a bigger location at the Boston Arms under the Dirty Water banner, and vanished into the night, never to be seen or heard of again. All very mysterious.

Those nights at the St John’s Tavern didn’t feel like anything particularly earth-shattering and were taken for granted but can now - with the benefit of hindsight, and nostrils free from the stench of those concrete, freezing toilets - be looked back on fondly. London’s venues for bands starting out with little or no audience are disappearing week by week. It was, indeed, another time.

“Cee Bee Beaumont!”

I walked past the Tavern a couple of months ago and was pleased it’s still a pub but the IRA, the JCB man and fans of Cee Bee Beaumont would not have recognised the place which now serves “Trout fillet with Crayfish Sauce and White Chocolate Brûlé” instead of garage punk at such distorted volume. As for Billy Childish, his records don’t date; they exist in their own time zone. I’m not one to suggest they all sound the same but his latest EP isn’t a million miles away from the sound he made in the Wild Western Room; in fact it doesn’t even stylistically travel as far as Archway tube station. And that is bloody remarkable in so many ways.

A Glimpse of Another Time EP by CTMF is out now on Damaged Goods Records.

Lyrics quoted above by Billy Childish.

Typical Western Room gig list, 1995.

The Electric Fayre at the St John's Tavern, Photo by Sonia Cazzaniga

OCTOBER PLAYLIST

These babies have been getting a lot of love this month...

1.  Roy Brown – “Shake ‘Em Up Baby” (1955)

Jitterbugging and lindy hopping his way through monkeys, coconut trees, rabbits, shotguns, alley cats, hound dogs, roosters and chickens, Roy really does shake ‘em up.

2.  Sonny Rollins – “I’m An Old Cowhand” (1957)

From Way Out West, with Sonny on tenor and dressed as a cowboy, Ray Brown on bass and Shelly Manne on drums. As Rollins explains on the sleevenotes, he wanted a “loping along in the saddle feeling… I want the cat out on the range all the way”, and on this hokey old tune (see Bing Crosby’s 1936 version) he gets it and it makes me smile every time.

3.  Roosevelt Nettles – “Heartaches and Troubles” (1961)

How could a record titled “Heartaches and Troubles” by someone called Roosevelt Nettles fail? It couldn’t. A right moody atmospheric barstool bastard. 

4.  Jill Harris – “Baby, Won’t You Try Me” (1964)

I heard Nick Beckett play this on his Dr Gonzo’s Medicine Show on Fusion the other Sunday and it blew my mind. Jill Harris leads the raucous call and response with Dee Dee Warwick, Cissy Houston, and Sylvia Shemwell on backing vocals on a track which has hands clapping in the church and feet stomping on the dancefloor. 

5.  The Seeds – “You Can’t Be Trusted” (1965)

This previously unreleased take, recorded on 20 July 1965, finally sees the light of day on a new limited edition Record Collector 45 and, especially when heard in isolation, highlights how utterly unique and ground breaking Sky Saxon’s wonderfully warped version of the blues really was at the time. They’d have garage imitators by the thousands but The Seeds were originators.  

6.  Ken Boothe – “Moving Away” (1968)

Being largely ignorant to rocksteady I was only familiar with Kenny Lynch’s version but must hand it to Kenneth, this is fabulous.

7.  Roberta Flack featuring Donny Hathaway – “God Don’t Like Ugly” (1979)

This caught my ear in the pub the other night so had to investigate. I actually thought it was a later release due to the production but the vocals are great and the melody stayed in my head, even after six pints of ruby ale and a couple of Southern Comforts.  

8.  Guy Hamper Trio – “Polygraph Test” (2009)

The Guy Hamper Trio – Billy Childish, Nurse Julie, Wolf Howard – are joined by James Taylor for a rollicking slab of garage-punk-jazz, the likes of which haven’t been heard since Mr Taylor’s earliest forays with his own quartet.

9.  Bob Dylan – “The Night We Called It A Day” (2015)

Bobby was in good form at the Royal Albert Hall on Sunday. A few things struck me: (a), almost everything was post 1997’s Time Out Of Mind; (b), because the set is therefore mostly what could be called “new” material (notwithstanding some is now nearly 20 years old) Bob doesn’t feel the need to wildly reinterpret them; (c), both these things are very welcome; and (d), the half dozen tracks from his recent Shadows In The Night LP – songs previously made famous by Frank Sinatra given a pedal-steel arrangement – provided many of the highlights, with the style suiting Bob who put notable effort into his singing. As I’ve said before, there’s Bob Dylan, then there’s everyone else.

10.  The Higher State – “(Consider It) A Debt Repaid” (2015)

Folkestone’s folk-stoned garage combo in typically disaffected mood on their new two-minute 45, complete with acidic tongue, swirly organ and a jangle so sharp it’ll cut ya soon as look at ya. Released, I’m sure to their delight, on 13 O’Clock Records out of Austin, Texas.  

SAY WHAT YOU LIKE MATE...

Rather than turning to Newsnight or Question Time for considered political analysis I go straight to Billy Childish, his poster technician Harry Adams, and The L-13 Light Industrial Workshop and Private Ladies and Gentlemen's Club for Art, Leisure and the Disruptive Betterment of Culture.
L-13.org

BILLY CHILDISH: UNKNOWABLE BUT CERTAIN at the ICA

Billy Childish has made over 100 albums. The ICA has a wall displaying 95. There must be someone, somewhere, who collects them. If you ever stumble across them in the pub, move away. “Fancy coming round to listen to my Billy Childish records?” No, you’re all right thanks. Can you imagine? Like being relentlessly bludgeoned with an old bicycle pump. I prefer to nibble away in more manageable chunks but as this major exhibition shows if you want to gorge on Chatman’s most famous son there’s an enormous feast to be had.

Oil paintings, poems, music, films, novels, woodcuts, homemade publications, placards and a bright yellow suit also celebrate the dogged determination, artistic integrity, single bloody mindedness and – let’s not forget – talent, of a true maverick treasure.

In the quality versus quantity debate it’s clear which camp Billy’s hobnails are in. Which isn’t to say there isn’t quality but there’s a restless air of stick it out there and move on to the next thing, which is part of the charm, even if it’s an often quickly forgotten one.

Billy Childish: Unknowable but Certain is at the Institute of Contemporary Arts, the Mall, London, SW1 until 18 April 2010, admission free.

BILLY CHILDISH - PENGUIN BOOK BURNING

The movers and shakers from the underground writing scene were out in force on Thursday for Billy Childish’s reading and book burning (see last Sunday’s post). Was good to meet the likes of Joseph Ridgwell, Jenni Fagan and Vic Templar, and reassuring they all appeared to have wandered straight from the pages of their books.

Billy was in charismatically jovial mood, wondering between poems what 19 year old Paul Weller would think of a 52 year old Paul Weller, what 19 year old Billy Childish would think of Billy Childish now, whether Charles Bukowski was a softie for moaning about working at the post office, and tales of fake moustaches and being the only punk in shorts.

Micheal from L-13 had chosen the pieces from Selected Poems for Billy to read, which meant a few different ones to those Billy usually picks. I’d had a few beers but I think he read: your golden hair, a sad donky and a fat man smiling, where the tiger prowls stripped and unseen, monkys in space, only poets piss in sinks, a mad noise like birds, fat nature, the snow, the bitter cup, hear i stand, the billy childish.

Then came the burning. L-13 did a fantastic job in making Selected Poems look totally like an authentic Penguin classic (managed to rescue one) so was sad to see them wasted. Penguin should have been proud to be associated with Billy’s work. But then, where’s the fun in that?

BILLY CHILDISH TO BURN PENGUINS

Last weekend I watched Julie Christie in Fahrenheit 451, the 1966 film of Ray Bradbury’s novel where books are banned and burned by the authorities.

It’s not a stance you’d expect from a book publisher but that’s the one being taken by Penguin over Billy Childish’s Selected Poems. The ungrateful suits have been none too amused by Billy’s contribution to L-13’s Infiltrations series. Copies of his book were produced in the style of an old Penguin paperback, given DH Lawrence’s ISBN number, and were to be snuck onto bookshop shelves. How did Penguin react to this generous act of homage and free advertising? By ordering their destruction, that’s how.

This Thursday you can witness Billy giving a send-off reading before the burning ceremony at the L-13 Gallery in Clerkenwell (click on flyer above). A limited, hand bound, Tangerine Press edition of Uncorrected Poems will rise from the flames.

L-13 Light Industrial Workshop and Private Ladies and Gentlemen's Club for Art, Leisure and the Disruptive Betterment of Culture

Tangerine Press

BILLY CHILDISH at ROUGH TRADE EAST

Unbeknownst to him, Billy Childish has been advertised as giving a poetry reading followed by a live set with the Musicians of the British Empire. He’s not best pleased. “I don’t like to mix it with my rock ‘n’ roll”, he says. “This young lady over here wanted to ask me what poets wear. All poets are vermin, that’s all you need to know”. But ever the honourable gentleman, if that’s what people have come for, that’s what they’ll get. Unprepared he only has his latest book of poems with him that he’d bought along to sell – not read. He doesn’t know them off by heart and doesn’t much fancy reading them, explaining that due to his dyslexia unless he’s read something hundreds of times he never knows the next line. “I can remember other people’s words; just not my own”. Not that it matters, Childish is such a charismatic raconteur that the poems read are in fact less entertaining than the chit-chat surrounding them, railing – comically - against everything from the Guardian, the Edinburgh Festival, promoters and audiences to poets.

One poem mentions a Walkman which Billy notes “really should be one of those, whatyoucallits, iPods. See, I know all the gear” he says with a grin and mischievous twinkle in his eye. He plays the role of man out of time wonderfully well and discloses that although he doesn’t own a mobile phone nor iPod, his wife Nurse Julie does and on Sundays whilst painting he has Beethoven playing from one. “Anyone listen to Ludwig van Beethoven?” Stony silence. “You should. One of the advantages of Beethoven is there’s no words to learn yet plenty of banging about”.

Along with Julie on bass and Wolf on drums it’s the banging about of MBEs that comes next. Being a relaxed afternoon session the band are in civvies rather than their normal battle dress with Childish sporting a 1940’s docker spruced up for an evening on the town look. With the safety net of his lyrics on the floor they set about crashing through a short, sweet yet predictable set. For someone with a back catalogue of over a 100 albums he repeatly draws from a small pool of songs and there’s inevitability about the set: “Misty Water”, “Joe Strummer’s Grave”, “A Quick One”, “Troubled Mind”, “Punk Rock Ist Nicht Tot” and “Fire”. Nurse Julie gets a ribbing for forgetting how to play “Troubled Mind”. “She’s got her pregnancy brain on. I might not remember words but I can remember chord sequences”. Such slap dash musicianship is part of the charm as the songs crudely crackle along fueled by their pure, honest and determined punk rock spirit.

Archive from 1959: the Billy Childish Story, a double CD set of 51 tracks spanning over thirty years is out now on Damaged Goods.

NATIONAL ART HATE WEEK

Black sheep of the art world Billy Childish, Jamie Reid, James Cauty and Harry Adams are up to their antagonistic best promoting National Art Hate Week which begins tomorrow.

What’s it all about? In part:

"NATIONAL ART HATE WEEK is a call for direct action against the mass acceptance of art as a false economy for the smug manipulative elite and their ensuing grip of control over culture as a tool for mediated emotion, market lead non-critical homogeny, and boring popularism."

Sounds reasonable.

For further propaganda see www.arthate.com

WILD BILLY CHILDISH AND THE MUSICIANS OF THE BRITISH EMPIRE at the DIRTY WATER CLUB

Billy Childish and co played their regular Dirty Water Club show on Friday. The above picture says it all.