Sunday, June 20, 2004


The Casio SK1 was the first sampler I ever owned; bought one when it first came out in the mid-Eighties. Not sure what year...maybe '86...I was living in Ivel Court at the time. Dave Workman came round a couple days later, got stoned, sampled himself saying "Clayface from Stalbridge" and spent the whole evening sat merrily listening to a grungey 8-bit low-end playback of his voice. The phrase had something to do with Rocket Ron, but the connection is lost on me now...I thought Ron originated from Thornford, not Stalbridge.
Now, you probably neither know nor care who Dave Workman or Rocket Ron are...suffice to say the Workmans were five brothers from Yetminster who were obsessed with the (at the time) final Iggy & The Stooges tour in 1974 that was documented on "Metallic KO" and a number of cassette-only bootlegs, while Rocket Ron was a dustman whose mental development was severely arrested when, according to Dorset rural legend, he was hit by a milk-float at the age of 12. Locals still speak in hushed tones of the time that Ron performed a 15-minute version of "Wild Thing" with members of the Workman Clan in a village hall after being plied with cider, speed and a bottle of gerkins. The Workmans are living legends in the West Country; the only people I know who've been on benders with Alex Higgins and Oliver Reed.
Years have passed and the Workman Brothers have scattered to the five corners of the earth, but, no doubt, like The Stooges, they'll probably reform a few years from now for one final apocolyptic tour and Ragnarok, The Twilight of the Gods, will be re-staged as an all-day cider-binge. I still see Ron in town occasionly; he married some in-bred troll from Sherbourne and was last spotted working as a toilet-cleaner in a local supermarket. As for my SK1, well, it retired to the conservatory where it still gets sonically abused nearly twenty years on. Only, this time, the culprit is my 3-year old daughter.

I think there was a point to all this. But what was it? Oh, yeah... this

I never knew there was a pink pseudo-Barbie version of the SK1. Or a plastic carry-case. Wow. And sound-fonts too...


A rare mid-Fifties copy of Leg Art magazine recently rescued from my garage after a house move last year. Amazing to think this was published at a time when America was going nuts for Abstract Expressionism...the lo-fi art scene that it documented was far, far too late for Dada, and a tad too early for Pop Art or Fluxus (of which it seems to almost be a logical precursor).
(Click on photo to enlarge, though I can think of no sane reason why anyone would want to do that) Contents to follow. Maybe.