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| It's hard to tell which member of Bobby Gillespie's Hair - the Club Beer house band - we're scared of the most. Is it Mad Uncle Matty, the singer with the short hair and the cigar who looks like he's keeping several small children captive in his cellar? Or Fraser, the singer with the long curly hair, a former child star in New Zealand who makes a lot of a money as a Nicole Kidman impersonator but doesn't like to talk about it? Could it be "Mitch", the guitarist with no first name and unique social skills who makes Steve Albini seem like Ronald MacDonald? Maybe it's John Graves, bassist and bon viveur, a man who's been known to tear would-be off license robbers limb from limb with his bare hands. Or perhaps it's the Mad Bomber, Tim McVeigh, keyboard freak and Cornish man with a penchant for tinkering away in the shed late at night making mysterious banging noises. It might even be Andy Bean, drummer and man of action, a foreboding figure at the best of times. We don't know. We're too busy hiding behind the sofa and chewing our hands. |
| We asked them to write an amusing and exciting account of their time together and they did. Very good it was too. Thing is, I left it at work and this page has to go up tonight or the entire Internet will explode, so I'm just going to have to put in what I can remember. Right, then, um...they were formed in...erm...no hang on, don't tell me, I'll remember in a minute. Oh bugger. Well, they've been going for ages is the point here. I first saw them back in the early nineties at Syndrome where they were so offensive the sound guy came onstage to pull the show. Excellent. They play about once a year and only under the extreme influence of alcohol and haven't written an actual song themselves, preferring instead to butcher other people's. It's what they do best, after all. They appeared at the recent Bowlie festiival thing and did a mixture of "Atmosphere" by Joy Division and "I Love A Party With A Happy Atmosphere" by Russ Abbot. Pure class. They've also done "We Are The World" acted out with dolls. Or at least one of them said something about doing that when they were drunk once. |  |
| Anyway, if you see any of these people in your town, cross the road quickly is my advice. Do not, I repeat do not, approach and offer to buy them a pint, unless you want to be throwing up your lower colon in Intensive Care several hours later. And as for catching one of their distinctive shows, don't waste your time scouring the gig guides and social pages of Vogue. Like our Club Beer heroes The A-Team, Bobby Gillespie's Hair aren't in the phone book. But when you need a load of old shite playing inexpertly by a bunch of drunken fools, then don't worry...they'll find you. |
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