#26 Citizen Suit

Did you know, 40% of the world's surface is covered in bands You Have Not Heard of? The other 60% is mainly taken up with U2's sense of self satisfaction. Citizen Suit are most definitely in the lower, but undoubtedly more eco-friendly of the two percentiles.

Citizen Suit are one of those new 'Eco-bands' you have been hearing so much about from this blog entry. They are the next big thing to come out of Swampy, the Polecats Riots of the 1980s and having too much time on your hands not to buy a car, watch Top Gear, and think the Jeremy Clarkson should really be the next Prime Minister. After all he talks such sense.

Randall P Dusk, Trevor Hope Lennon and Cosmic Daphne are our fearsome trio, who are in fact just one member short of a quartet. Interesting. The name, 'Citizen Suit', is somewhat of a sly misnomer on the part of the group. They pride themselves on never having warn a suit (except for that time when Trevor got sick all down his only Thundercats t-shirt and had no choice but to don jacket and tie). They also refuse to exist as "citizens of a country which persecutes the barn owl and threatens the very existence of natterjack toads of the West Drayton area by the expansion of that new Lidl".

Despite their clearly defined moral stance the band weren't always this green. Sure they used to turn their washing machines down to 30° and ensure their humvees were taken off standby but, frankly, who doesn't? Some argue that they are now cashing in the good intentions of a population. A population who have been duped into thinking the end is nigh if they don't swap their existing frying pan for a plug and play, energy saving model. Their fans on the other hand would argue that the band, and Dusk in particular, have a higher calling to educate and nurture the world's population to a better future, in harmony with ourselves and our little vole buddies.

The rarely bathed trio started out in a flat in London with a pair of bongoes and, that staple of all fledgling musicians, the Early Learning Centre kazoo. They would busk day and night in Covent Garden, earning literally pounds for just an hours work. The group quickly became fans of the obscure ethnic instrument, and the more ethnically obscure the better. Each member of the group is well rehearsed in the use of, amongst others, the Didgeriflute from the Former Yugoslav Republic of Pakistan, the Bass-a-ma-panpipes from Argentania, and a copy of New Internationalist magazine played with a violin bow, from all good newsagents.

To this day they live like trendy urban nomads, setting up camp in a new London village each night. At first it was a daily struggle against the fat cats, who would sneak into their camp late at night and eat all the cornflakes. Who would have thought something so orange could be so girth augmenting? By the summer of 2007 that they had created a name for themselves in the deprived West Kensington slum area of London, and formed collaborations with other groups who were also exploiting the area. Of particular note are their efforts with both local panpipe heroes '¡DeepPan!' from Guatemalia and 'Pan on Pan Action' from Peruvia. "I'm like Francis of Assisi, Doolittle wants to be me, the sea creatures they all love me, 'Cos we all need a Porpoise" they would chant in unison.

Several unquestioningly positive things have come out of the band's existence. Their 'Hug a Badger Programme' for young offenders and their 'Recycle to Work Scheme' to name but a few. And, of course not forgetting their 'Deport Alan Titchmarsh Petition' - not so much to save the planet, but a good idea nonetheless (if only for his novels).

Their first and only disc is a concept album on which they decided to parody the Amazon rainforest and it's contents. The quirky and quip laden thirty minute ethno-fest pokes fun at everything from loggers (effeminate lady-boys) to Japanese whalers (dubbed the al qaeda of the seas on track three - 'I can't believe they Nine-Elevened a Narwhal'). "Treefrog, greenfrog, your feet stick to the big log" they gibed. Inspirational if true. The album 'Tropical Satire' was released on 2 March 2009 and is available direct from the band only - infront of them as they busk (just put a donation in their Sitar-a-phone case). I give the album three thumbs up out of fourteen, and that's despite the fact that every purchase comes with a free bag for life.

Citizen Suit are currently taking a gap year rearing young pygmy goats on a farm just outside Staines, West London. In their place other bands have sprung up hoping to benefit from the early groundwork laid by Citizen Suit - Tribe of the Savanna from Hounslow and Children of the Mangrove from Musgrove, to name but two.

So, for those of us left wondering where this whole eco-band phenomenon is taking us I implore you to watch this. Ok, so that didn't have alot to do with new music but hey, at least we can all sleep soundly knowing that the size of a whale is the exact distance between a toddler's raised hands. And that that kind of knowledge is well celebrated in Philadelphia. And after all - isn't that all that really matters in the end? Isn't it?


What harm will one more sheet of paper do? Go on, print this blog entry.

#25 Fit Female Bassists

Sometimes it's hard to be a woman. Never more so than in the macho world of twee indie rock, where women are frequently used only as eye candy, bassists or sleepy backing vocalists. Fit Female Bassists came to change all of that. Their success was limited, but the unexpected outcome was some sweet-natured musical moments of musical happiness.

Our band was formed when the women realised they would get nowhere with the help of men; nowhere that is, except to be left holding a bass guitar or a baby. The 4 members hired a flat in Monkton and set about trying to destroy the male dominated music industry. Diana Trent, the permanently elected spokeswoman for the group also played the electric guitar in normal tuning. Jane Edwards produced the literature and played the electric guitar in drop C tuning. Marion Ballard concentrated on long-term strategic vision and played the acoustic guitar in whichever of Joni Mitchell's tunings she saw fit at the time. Sarah Snow provided 2nd tier logistical support and played the cymbal.

The first record "women deserve more than an hour" came with 4 posters, a 107 page manifesto, an equal opportunities monitoring form and instructions on how to get the album in 18 different languages, braille and in large print. It also advised listeners that "If you need any assistance in understanding what this album means, please seek help from your local Citizen's Advice Bureau or other advice agency before doing anything else."

The manifesto -whichever language you happened to read it in- would have been more help if it wasn't just a sequence of unexplained and poorly linked together three-letter acronyms. One particularly excruciating sentence read "We shall look to link BIP with BAP in line with further strategic objectives of GAP, TAP, WIP and FIG, looking further to SWQ the XCV parameters."

Luckily, the album itself had some musical gems. "Bulbous Lobes" told the story of one woman's struggle against mastoiditis, "UVA UVB UVme" is an impassioned call to remain pastily skinned in summer and "Diaper Factory" is about a diaper factory where women make money to spend on their children. Throughout, the different tunings and lush arrangements make the band sound like BIS on horse-tranquillisers, or Sonic Youth fronted by Jean Sibelius in a particularly wistful mood. With their accidentals pock-marking the passages and duelling guitars managing to endeavour through a prism of non-competitive games, the band make a melodic but arrhythmic 45 minutes of joy. It's frankly -and I say this as a man- stonking stuff. Enjoyment of it is tempered by the need to fill in an online "Tell us what you think" form every time you listen to the album; you have to rate Timbre as either well above satisfactory, above satisfactory, satisfactory, below satisfactory or well below satisfactory. To be honest, timbre doesn't change much on multiple listens and we'd appreciate being asked once and once alone.

This would all be very much in the YHNH field of experience only. But there is something in the back of your mind thinking "I'm sure I've heard of these women before." You'd be right, but that shameful story is almost too heartbreaking to tell. I do so only on the precondition that you have box of tissues awaiting your tears.

At a quorate meeting of the 4 members of the band it was decided that they would move forward by asking real women for their views. In a mix up attributed by the band to anything but committee thinking, the questionnaires were sent to Colleen's Real Women, who -God help us all- responded and CCed the questionnaire to Loose Women: TV's answer to the question "what are Lynda Bellingham's finances looking like?" The responses received from the questionnaire revealed that 'real women' are interested in:

• Why their husbands always leave the car keys in different places,
• What is the best way to marry a footballer,
• Has anyone seen the new Batman film? I loved the makeup,
• Why does the lady that brings the tea think she can have a conversation with us?
• What do I do all day when my husband is at work?
• Doesn't everyone agree with me? Girls. you agree with me, yeah?
• And, last and oddest of all "let's have a revolution!"

Feeling bound to these responses, the group could do nothing else but produce a poor pop album where women's oppression was not understood, merely felt. Although they tried to reconcile this with a project they assumed they would do at some point in the future, they were sad that they had not been able to delineate the groundings of a woman's condition before they told anyone how strange it must be to be The Woman Destroyed. The circumstances forced them to the corner and they bravely fought it with all their hearts. Still, this would be a bizarre little story to tell if it were not for track 6 on the album "The Octopussycat Molls".

Whilst actually a slightly strained reference to about 6 different things at once, the track was assumed by all and sundry to be an attack song on the Pussycat Dolls. The Dolls themselves, always open to some free publicity and to get in a fight (let alone to fight a common enemy to prevent any more internal friction) released a 'response'' song "Unfit for porpoise, porbass or portcullis".

Unable to take the pressure of fighting a very different group with a very different ethos, and, frankly, slightly sick of each other's moralising, Fit Female Bassists look like they are on the way out. They just need to wait until the AGM to make that decision.

#24 Hearing Cape for the Mute

Everyone knows capes are cool. Capes are this year's raccoon skin hat. Everyone knows being mute is cool. Being mute is this year's being blind. So a cape that makes mute people hear is super cool! Hearing Cape for the Mute are the epitome of cool - dressed head to toe in tailored fur suits. However, as you may expect from a band who come from a country where the sun always sets and reindeer are your feudal overlords, their music is on the relentlessly grim side.

Above right - Geoff Capes in a cape (not in Hearing Cape for the Mute)

These Finnish alt rockers offer more shoegazing than if Ride and My Bloody Valentine organised a joint day trip to the Clarks outlet shop at Lakeside. Unfortunately when you spend so much time looking down you tend to walk into lamposts or make debut albums so poor even the NME don't like it before not liking it or vice versa.

The trio started out in downtown Helsinki in a student bedsit, eating pickled herring on toast and listening to Weather Report albums for years on end. Tove Hattifatteners, Jansson Pietilä and My Hemulen all found themselves working in the local Old Fashioned Sweet Emporium. The band practiced regularly but never took it too seriously until Tove, in a pickled herring stupor, had this great idea for a book in which an underwater paradise is populated by people with snorkels on their heads. Thus 'The Snorks' was born and went on to become a hit TV show, and not just in Belgium. Interestingly, you would never see a Snork surface for air and Tove never did explain why they needed snorkels if they could breath underwater already. You'd think the greedy bastards would be content with gills, but no.

Using the funds created by his venture in to the world of animation Tove relocated the band to London in 1991 where they met up with their good friends, and Finnish musical counterparts, HIM. At the time the members of HIM were working as usherettes at the local picture house. 'Salt or sweet?' they enquired and 'Show you to your seat guv'nor?' they would quip. The two bands shared a flat in Pimlico because they liked the way it sounded - PIM-LICO. Brilliant! they thought.

However, the good times and the money didn't last long. The group had bought so many Weather Report records that they could literally no longer move in their flat (and their herring contingency fund had taken a battering). HIM got a bit angry, moved out and became the goth rockers we know and detest today. So, being migrant workers Tove and his buddies popped down to the jobcentre to pick up their state supplied standard issue mobile phone, keys to their mini mopeds and brand new leather jackets. They spent their nights playing Wolfenstien on LAN and chuckling to themselves about how after five years in the country they could collect the leather trousers to go with that jacket.

Around the same time they had a residency at Copa Capybara in Camden and were gigging nightly. On the back of their minor live success they released the 1996 album 'Take You Down To Chinatown'. The morose self indulgent depress-fest was nothing if not terrible, or 'clappen trappen' as the Finnish press dubbed it.

Amazingly, the band are still going and you can catch them playing the odd gig at Copa Capybara and even The Pink Flamingo in Marylebone (yes, they liked the name of this one too 'Mary the Bone'? Crazy! they thought). Tove is currently working on a screen play for an historical love story based on the 1858 conflict between The Snorks and The Smurfs. Set against a backdrop of infighting, inbreeding and mass genocide the love of a Snork and a Smurf is quite something to behold. 'Blue is the Colour', which sees the Smurfs depth charge the Snorks back to the stone age, is under option with at least two high school film and media students.

#23 My Granddad

My Granddad may not seem like the kind of person we'd be reviewing on this site. Sure, he may have the air of a rock and roller, but what septuagenarian does not? I'll tell you this, the first thing I remember My Granddad telling me was, "You know the cover of Abbey Road? That was a veiled reference to me."

I didn't believe him; I thought something's about medication and the nonsense My Granddad often told me. He claimed to have an invisible dog and once even that he parachuted into Scotland in 1941, in an attempt to sue Churchill for peace. That all changed one day in 2005, when a scruffy Dostoevsky-alike arrived and frogmarched him to a studio. Taking the facts as they have shown themselves to me, I am now able to present the jigsaw in it's original form.

My Granddad did not immediately have an interest in professional musicmaking. First he was a child and then there was a war. After that it was teatime and then he thought about playing the guitar. First he had to learn and given that times was austere it took him until 1949 to really consider forming a band.

Assembling his war-buddies at the Woking Men's Club, My Granddad rated each audition in a way which would have been reminiscent of The Gong Show, had it existed at the time. If he thought there was no talent in 20 seconds, he would stamp his feet and they'd have to get out. If he let them play, he'd rate them, although he was known for his stern marking and propensity to stamp his feet when enjoying the music. Eventually, the band had been selected. Although most of the chosen few played instruments more in keeping with big band style recordings, My Granddad insisted on the band sounding and acting like a skiffle group. Exactly how you palm mute a saxophone is unknown, but My Grandad requested it and the Saxophonist (Ken Chapman, 1925-1999) managed to create a not too dissimilar sonoural experience.

Looking for a name that summed up their disregard for the status quo but attention to detail and self-preservation, the group hit on The Zebra Crossings. As My Granddad explained, Zebra Crossings were for everything new, including the Green Cross Code. To celebrate, My Granddad gave David Prowse (then aged 14) a ticket to their first gig. The young Prowse invited all his friends -of which there were many (who the hell wouldn't be friends with the future body (if not voice) of Darth Vader)-, and the gig sold out. The band soon sold out themselves, taking on a string of less-than-glorious advertising roles speaking against the mounting scientific evidence that jumping from a cliff was bad for you. "Jump from a cliff?" My Granddad shamefully said "full of flavour, good for your teeth and leaves a taste in your mouth for weeks to come!"

Eventually the touring schedule got to the 13 piece band, as did the living quarters where all but My Granddad were forced to share a bed. Referring to the conditions many of the band grew up in as a child, My Granddad opined that at least they had 0.08333 of a bed each. In order to stop the overcrowding and related virus-infestations, 5 members of the band left in 1962. Aware of the instability this created in the band -let alone the bed- My Granddad suggested that they changed their name. And so, in that Düsseldorf dormitory, The Panda Crossings was born.

Moving away from skiffle, the band settled on a form of industrial music that was not really of it's time. Sure, they had the right country for industrial music (and one very young paperboy by the name of Blixa Bargeld was definitely impressed) but they probably got there a little too early to be understood by the masses.

A new line-up change left just My Granddad from the original members and took the band in the surprising direction of chamber-rock. Part of this came from having such few members and part of it came from the liberation of having so few numbers. Suddenly silence could be embraced and the new name, The X-Ray Crossings, really added nothing apart from timely historical accuracy.

In 1969, tired of the emotional roller-coaster of name-changes and instore performances at Woolworths, My Granddad decided to go it alone and record using only a boombox. Always earlier than fashion, My Granddad had to wait until 1978 for the boombox to be invented for him to record anything new. When the new album "Bread, Dripping, Living, Workin'" finally did come out, My Granddad -who had called himself Pelican Crossing- was too busy picking me up from school every Tuesday to tour. Still, his remaining fans took their pension and bought the album, some Murray Mints and a teenth and got down to his noisily recorded acoustic tunes.

All this would be a footnote in musical history if it were not for one Trick Trubin, the number 1 Rick Rubin cover-producer in history (because we all know that technically Ben Folds does not count). Trubin's motto is, if people go to see cover-bands, why the hell not cover-producers? After a spell failing to act and sound like Bongwater heavyweight Mark Kramer, Trubin gave up, grew a beard, found an old man and started mimicking Rubin. With My Granddad signed up to the project Trubin requested that he record a cover version of "March of the Pigs", meditating on extreme old age, third rate industrial punk and, um, marching pigs. He played it to Rory Palmer, but he didn't much like it.

With that in the can, Trubin demanded the plane fare back to America and has never been seen again. My Granddad does not mind, at least he got to relive the glory days by making Trubin sleep in his densely packed and trinket filled cramped spare room.

! Planned Outage

YHNH will not be publishing any new items between 00:00 and 23:59 on Saturday 16 May 2009.

This is planned outage due to the annual and predictable rift in the reality-satire vortex. For more information about the rift and how it may affect your ability to tell bizarre humour from reality, please click here.

Eurovision 2009 Special!

Yes! It is that time of year again when Europe's finest pick their most talented to represent them at THE only premier Europe-based music competition in May. The quality is always high and it's a veritable feeding ground for those new music spotters out there. If there was an I Spy Book for bands You Have Not Heard this would be the time to purchase it/dust it down from the bookshelf/steal it from your local book emporium. Sharpen your pencil and prepare for some big fifty pointers!

The competition has a habit of bringing new bands and artists to the attention of the fine peoples of Europe. Frankly, it's like 'You Have Not Heard The Musical' and this year's entries are no exception. Portugal are the early favourites. The group are Abracadaver, the song is 'Death by Keytar' and the performance is a macarbre affair which sees lead singer Ernesto Negro appear from a coffin made of parma violets to a slap bass symphony that just won't quit.

Hosts Russia look strong again this year with 'For Christ's Spake'. Moscow dynamo and former airport somebody, Jeremy Spake, will be strutting his stuff dressed as the son of God himself. His commanding perfomance promises to convice us to 'fish on the otherside' and will no doubt sway a few of those doubting Thomases. Oisky-poisky indeed!

The halftime show is currently a closely guarded secret. Don't expect any Irish dance stilt walker nonesense this year though. Early rumors that Silvio Berlesconi will be appearing on stage with performing the quick step with Randy Newman are largely thought unfounded. Silvio was spotted backstage at Tuesday night's semi-final but has since confirmed that he was simply talent scouting for the recently vacated position of Energy Minister in his cabinet.

So tune in on Saturday night, crack open some 9% Burgerbrau and a bratwurst and vote for your favourite. Alternatively watch 'Helicopter Warfare' (Channel Five at 9pm) or 'When Funeral's Go Bad 4' (Bravo at 10pm) The choice is yours!


Other notable entries in this years Eurovision include:

The Patrick O'Gold Singers -Ireland 5/1
Polska! Polka! -Poland 8/1
Bing Bang Bong - Ecuador 20/1
Plato's Potato - Greece 50/1
David Jason and the Mock Tudors - UK 100/1
Vous, Moi et Tim - France 250/1
Juego de la Carne de Vaca -Spain 300/1

#22 Nine2Five™

Now, we don't make a habit of these things but our next 'band' that You Have Not Heard are in fact a multi-sex pop group - Nine2Five™. The group conform to the the classic three girl/two boy combo that has worked wonders in the past for such acts as The Michaela Strachan Quintet, VelcroLuv and the Nolans.

Just in pure pop cliché terms Nine2Five do not disappoint. The group comprise Steven McBrandybutter (the one with the comedy surname and former MenyMen star), Sarah Tomson (the one of possible non-descript sexual orientation), Rich Davies (the up-himself, smug one) , Bryony Rangers (the token ethnic minority) and Rachel Galloway (the busty pin-up). Of course, clichés aside, who's to say that other members won't turn out to be gay, black and/or busty at some point in the future.

All five of Nine2Five appeared in the tv show of the same name, Nine2Five - their name coming from the process by which they were selected. Nine were hand-picked from modeling agencies, Hooters restaurants and kebab strewn gutters up and down the country, by music media mogul Flavio Jackanory. Week-by-week, fatal accident after fatal accident the nine were reduced to five, all under the perspicacious gaze of the public and celebrity judges Brian Blessed, Ainsley Harriott and Terry Wogan's gardener. In the early stages of the competition Nine2Five narrowly beat Norwegian novelty act PoopOnPop (so titled due to an administrative error) and F*email to the crown of MTV6's 'Band or Bust' title in November 2008.

The irony of their name is not lost on the group who fully admit to never having done an honest days work in their lives. Indeed, before joining the group three of the five were in office jobs where they would steal biros and paperclips. Steven on the other hand is effectively televisual royalty as his mother is the third cousin of Moscovite dynamo and love child of Phil Jupitus - Jeremy Spake.

At the end of 2008 the group quickly became synonymous with everything great about MTV6 - up there with the series one repeats of 'PimpMyRide Canada' and 'Michael Barrymoore's New American Best Friend'. The five loved the ready money advertising brought in and were soon endorsing everything from their own pasta sauce to air fresheners so sweet smelling Paul would be doing a poo at your house.

Their Christmas number one 'Let's All Have a Nine2Five Christmas' reached the surprisingly credible #53 position in the charts on 25 December 2008. It was just unfortunate that a nine to five Christmas would in fact be disappointingly short and would only leave one hour fifty minutes merriment following the Queen's speech. It is equally astonishing that the song placed so well considering the lyrics that suggested we should all go and 'Abandon your place of worship, it's worth it, take out an Amex, and buy a big Lexus'. 'You can't spell Jeezus without us!' they retorted.

2009 album 'Poptronica' is expected for release at the end of June. Don't hold your breath though. Not only does it reduce the vital oxygen supply to your brain but it is thought that Flavio Jackanory has already moved onto his next project - Crufts on Ice. Each doggie competitor will not only have to display, among other things, a glossy coat and hocks of steel, but they will have to perform a three minute pairs routine. All on ice. The rumour mill continues to grind it's way to a miserable halt with the news that Sarah is thought to be appearing on 'Ukraine's Next Top Model 2009'. Whilst Rich is odds on favourite to host 'Animal Match-ups 7' in which the world's most fearsome beasts meet in a fight to the death. The seventh series is set to be the most interestingly gory to date with Tiger v Narwhal, 6 Squirrels v 2 rabbits and even some Zebra v Heron action.

The way forward is clear for Nine2Five develop or die. It's not about the music. Clearly it never was. It was all about unleashing raw young talent onto the nation in 3 minute musical bite sized pieces. Who knows what the five will be doing next? - perhaps one of them will appear on Holby City as impailed man number three or may even be filmed getting out of a car with no suitable undergarments on. Who knows and frankly who cares?
I'm off to deficate on Paul's doorstep.

#21 The Tendency Movement

Bad buskers bumbling through blithely; there was little to be said for the unassuming acoustic rockers Mark Umbers and Matthew Flynn. That was until one rainy Saturday, when they set their pitch up Barrack Way, Coventry and were never the same again.

Opening their soft gig bags and placing a small amount of change inside to act as a hint, they adopted the position you would adapt if you were to start to play a chord. Immediately a small group of polite people wearing lovely red badges approached them. One member of the group, older and more stressed looking than the rest explained that this was their spot, that they spend every Saturday here and that they had already erected their plastering table. This raggedy bunch of activists were not going to move and Umbers and Flynn decided to go somewhere else rather than be blasted by the "warning siren" mode on their adversary's megaphone . They were thanked and what appeared to be a newspaper was thrust into Flynn's open hand.

The next week, as the Unwaged Workers Party unloaded their leaflets on avoiding unnecessary paper waste, Umbers and Flynn returned. The group gathered, expecting another showdown. Umbers and Flynn however explained that they had taken the paper away, read every single word (including the Sport and TV Reviews (Crimewatch, 0/5 stars, no understanding of who the "Real Crooks" are)) and come to the conclusion that they had to join The Party. Quizzed on their motivation by Hugo Hands, they explained in length that The Party was referred to with capitals because it was a proper noun and that there was no apostrophe as The Party was for the workers and not owned by the workers. Accepted as equals they were told to get on with asking people to sign a petition calling on Lemon Harvesters to strike over the irresponsibly named Market for Lemons theory.

Weeks of struggle and invective followed, with Umbers being able to take to the microphone to explain to the passing shoppers that "Parliament was built on a dung-heap, and the best thing it can do is sink into it". Flynn managed to convince many of his passing friends to sign a petition supporting the Fifth Durutti Column in their efforts to liberate the people of Basingstoke from eating lunch at their desks. The local Party leader's noticed the pair's ability to mobilise their apparently huge group of friends and asked them if there was anyway they could think of to activate this into full-on support.

Umbers and Flynn pretended to think hard about this and the next week they suggested a gig where they could play. The Tendency Movement was born in Coventry's Motor Hall, compered by the legendary Motor "Mouth" Al. The firebrand new socialists played their hit-strewn set to their baying friends and comrades. Hits such as "On the edge of the Cliff", "Yigael remember you when you're gone" and "We'd all like to forget the idea of a permanent war economy." Not since the Salvation Army's own Joystrings did an ideological movement have such a cogent and well thought through pop band at it's side. Releasing they had to capitalise on this lucky fate, Hugo and the other leaders offered The Tendency movement whatever they wanted.

The Tendency Movement wanted the spot on Barrack Way.

Realising that they had been duped (but that the band had somehow subsumed their ideas into the music) the leadership committee appealed to the central command structure, known informally as The Core. As any member of the UWP party can tell you democracy is held in the highest order in The Party. In the Core election, each local group elects a delegate to the conference, who vote on a list of 10 representatives for the future Core chosen by the 10 members of the current Core. The delegates can either choose to elect this group or be thrown out of the Party. Like Winston Churchill said: "Democracy is the worst idea, until you consider that I'm a raving lunatic who should never have been elected in 1951."

However, the local leadership had not counted on the sneakiness of the Movement, who had promised Core member Patch Snatch the drummer's stool if he backed them. Snatch managed to grab the initiative and convince The Core that the complaining rank and file members should be purged.

On getting his letter Hugo let a little tear fall down his face. Loyal to the last, he even appreciated not being able to appeal.

The Tendency Movement played on, securing a larger and larger fanbase and recording hits as diverse as "I disagrees with John Rees" and "Oi! Kinnock, give us back our raise!"

#20- The Gaffer Tapes

No Pub Rock band ever managed to accidentally mimic mid sixties New York minimalism quite as successfully as The Gaffer Tapes. Their uncompromising and rigid approach to chord, tone and timbre set them apart from even their more extreme peers and made their once-promising careers flounder and crash. Where once the band stood firm, tough and adhesive, now only a sticky residue remains.

Incensed by the neo-prog music of Bunny F and the flailing locks of Rick Wakeman (officially The Most Hated Man in 1970s Music 19 years running (Jees, even his website stinks)) Martin "Ron"Wheatcroft and Errol "Eric" Bamford set about trying to reconnect music with the average working Joe. Joe was from Conisbrough and had the added advantage that he could play most of the drums. Snares gave him problem but the group reconciled this by declaring the snare drum to be too hoity toity for them anyway. "The kind of thing you'd see Sea Scouts Rattling on," declared a drunk Bamford in an interview in 1973.

Looking for a way to present simple, easy music for simple men and easy girls, Wheatcroft hit on the National Readership Survey classification of social grades. The band talked frankly at only wanting to be of interest to people in the C2, D and E grades. Surely then -so the tortured logic goes- they could only use these chords in all of their songs. D and E were easy enough -they would just play the major chords- but a problem presented itself when the band realised that C2 was only a pompous (and therefore excluded) term for Cadd9. They would not be prepared to work with just a jumped up, one name not good enough, double-barrelled, "look at moi" chord and so decided that they would instead work with the much more working class C7 and C5. C7 minus C5 was, of course, um, C2.

With the correct 4 chords in place the band decided that they could create songs for the first album. Naming each song after the chord combination used within proved somewhat difficult (especially as C7 and C5 were taken as a pair and the group allowed no deviation) but they had just enough permutations for a short but intense 6 song album. The tracklisting can be worked out using Key Stage 4 maths, but for those unlucky enough still to contend with this, the tracks were:

1. C7 C5, D, E (2:13)
   
2. C7 C5, E, D (3:12)
3. D, C7 C5, E (1:32)
   
4. D, E,C7 C5 (2:31)
   
5. E, C7 C5, D (3:21)
   
6. E, D, C7 C5 (1:23)

The album was assisted by the engineer being slightly deaf. Placing the potentiometer a little too high on every take, the music was beset by rich overtones and bizarre ringing noises at seemingly (and actually) random intervals. About half way through making the album Wheatcroft began to complain that the others were not playing the same chords as him. When they explained that Bamford was rooting the chords on his bass and Joe was playing the drums, Wheatcroft pulled a fit and stated that he was very close to declaring them "musical" and therefore out of the band.

Wheatcroft's suggestion was for Bamford to play the same chord on his bass as Wheatcroft was on his guitar and for the drums to be tuned to the same set of notes, so that Joe could switch between them and match the chords. The result is that from track 3 (D, C7 C5, E) onwards the band were trying to play exactly the same notes at the same time. Waterboarded logic but actually a lovely way to make increasingly good music.

The working men's clubs and smaller pubs in the greater-Doncaster were not impressed and showed this by turning the fruit machines up to a very high level. Bootleg copies of one gig where this happened (at the Warmsworth Arms, Woolworth Street, Warmsworth) started appearing at the more popular underground noise fayres, jamberees and carnivals. People schooled on The Theatre of Eternal Music listened and considered the work B- at best, with the fruit machine's version of the Steptoe and Son music gaining the most positive reviews. Still, the band managed to sell a few albums off the back of the resulting confusion and it allowed them time to contemplate what to do next.

Ever eager to ostracise and denounce inanimate objects and theoretical notions, Wheatcroft decided that the next album should be so easy to listen to that there should be only one chord, played through the whole album. The rest of the band grudgingly agreed and tried not to look too bored when he said that "only the intellectual and the poseur are interested in change." The resulting album "Mrs E's Beautiful Booze" relied on the whole band playing E major for 76 minutes -just enough to get a double album out of it. This time there were no "problems" with the recording sound and this time the revellers at Rotherham's bawdier hostelries realised they were watching something immense. Sounding like a runaway train recorded from the drivers perspective, the amounting wreck was to change the group dynamic and put an end to the insanity.

Realising that this was not what they had signed up for, Bamford and Joe decided to enlist in the French Foreign Legion. Before they knew it, they were sent off to fight in the Chadian-Lybian Conflict, defending Ati from wave after wave of brave but ultimately underarmed FROLINAT fighters. Joe had previously wondered why the words coup d'état were in French. He was confused no more and he became demoralised by what appeared to be hollow victory after hollow victory. Eventually, seeing nothing left for the average man to do, he became a playwright, extolling world peace and brotherhood between men in increasingly poor plays.

Unable to cope without Joe, their "voice of the workingman, taken recently to offering intellectual and petit-proletarian solutions," as Wheatcroft sentimentally rebuked, the band had little option but to change their names and identities. Bamford took to cleaning windows with a very large pole, which was going nowhere until the recent high-rise housing boom. He is now a millionaire, but not a multi-millionaire. Wheatcroft shouts at pigeons in the high street and is often told to move on by the constabulary.

#19 Capeloaf

Having to make up a one word band name using two existing words is surely the last resort of any aspiring musicians and straightaway firmly places the band on minus 10 on the creativity scale. Not that it is an uncommon practice, even outside music, to conjoin existing words because you don't have the imaginative where-with -all to come up with something half-decent yourself.

Take the seahorse for example. Most mythical creatures have great names; the minotaur, the griffin...so why is the seahorse any different? Yes, I know it's supposed to look like a horse with the bodily functions and water based needs of a fish - sort of like a mermaid and yes, fair enough they exist (we have all seen Tom Hanks getting it on with one in 'Splash'). But has anyone actually seen a seahorse? No. So what do they know. Unfortunately music is no different.

There are plenty of examples out there, making music as we speak. Some of you may have even been to one of their gigs - to those people I say go wash yourself thoroughly.
-Wolfmother - no one is convinced that you suckled baby lupine whelps. Get a better name.
-Coldplay - just because your name is nonsensical that doesn't make you good. Worse still, rumour has it that Keane gave it to you, as they were going to use it, but get this - thought it sounded too depressing. Dear Lord!
-Supertramp - actually that's quite cool. Who can't identify with a super-hero hobo?

And so we come to Capeloaf.

Worst. Band. Name. Ever.

Ok, so it's not as bad as '...And The Pasties' or 'The Noon Landings' but it's definitely up there. To reiterate - completely nonsensical band names are fine (eg 'The Flugalitarians' or 'Transbestite'). Using two words to make a new one is not.

With that out of the way we come to the band themselves. And, oh dear they certainly lived up to the quality of their name. From 1987 to 1993 they consistently pedaled out nu-wave pop dross that would make every single member of the Inspiral Carpets' turn in their graves and REM's 'Shiny Happy People' sound like a 6 hour dirge in memoriam of a deceased puppy, as written by Joy Division.

The group never released a song during their six years together. Gigging exclusively in the Kirby Bedon/Swainsthorpe area of Norfolk they failed to live up to their early promise as respectable grunge-core rockers, then called The F Elevens. On the face of it it seems to be the old story of band gets more than twenty fans, band sells out to make it big. Unfortunately the F Elevens never had as many as twenty fans. They were therefore destined to spend the rest of their careers selling out, but having no fans who would care that it was happening. One might question just whether this is really selling out, given no one knew who they were in the first place. To them I say yes, yes it is. It took six years before the group realised that no one cared. Despite a good write up in the Norwich Evening News in 1989 and having offered free food and drink at every single one of their 2,986 gigs (including, at various stages, six different volauvents, a Mediterranean seafood buffet and a medieval banquet). No one came.

What can you say about a band that had nothing and threw it all away. Not alot. Other than that they should have considered a managed and sustainable recycling scheme for their guitar-based-indie-pop-tat. You only need to look at what 'In Stew We Trust' were doing in the early nineties - bitesized manageable slices of pop intertwined with noise solos and a cute female bassist in a short skirt. Just like the scraps you get offered on your fish and chips Capeloaf seem like a great idea at the time but there's really nothing to them and they are 63% more likely to give you a heart attack.

Happy guitar pop doesn't come much happier. Capeloaf on the other hand are frankly yeast-erday's news.