KID SHIRT

Saturday, April 22, 2006

SHOE-LANTERN SPEED-THIEF

THE W*DDING

It goes w/out saying, of course, that Kate and Dom Zero’s wedding was the social event of the epoch. Kate looked fantastic and Dom’s tie was virtually luminous, but…but, wanna know just how cool they really are? I’ll tell you how cool they are: the bride walked down the aisle to Johnny Cash’s Sunday Morning Coming Down.” They’re gunslingers, them two: that’s how cool they are.

And they had Rilke for the reading, and after they were hitched, they walked back down to the theme from “The Magnificent Seven” because they exhibit more style in any given hour of their lives than most puny humans do in an entire lifetime. I wish them eternal celestial happiness and Buddha-like bliss. On their wedding-cake they had a miniature Bobba Fett and a Buffy, the Vampire-Slayer.

And how fucking fantastic was it to see Mark Webb again. Mark Webb aka John Webb aka The Skipper aka The Lilac Butcher…The Skipper’s just back from 3 weeks in Antartica…he’s a friggin’ wild-life photographer, fer chrisake. I hope you’re all weeping w/ shame at how boring your lives are. I know I am.

The Skipper’s moving to Bristol soon…he’s gonna be back in the West Country, so start praying to whatever foul, blasphemous Elderly Gods you worship that you do not offend him, mortal, for this is a man who once supported The Butthole Surfers while wearing a bacofoil bib and bonnet. “That was your idea,” said The Skipper at Kate & Dom’s wedding reception. No it bloody wasn’t, Mark…it was yours! It must’ve been: it has your MO is all over it. I’m pretty sure my only contribution was walking across Newport w/ you to find an Asian corner-shop that actually sold tin-foil. Then, later, I fell off a table that I was dancing on and hurt my back. “Ciderdelia” by Dadi Janki (1986?)…what a fucking great album.



(Skipper Webb, as depicted by Kid Kid Shirt (not to scale))


All the planets must’ve been in conjunction, or else there was a Black Anti-Eclipse that night because Dom’s wedding also saw an unlikely reunion of the infamous Crucial Four: the West Country’s most important Punk/Post-Punk Collectiv, who went on to form the far-too-far-ahead-of-their-time group Spare Cells and publish the nefarious (and incredibly collectible) Human Debris fanzine. This is the first time these four (the clue’s in the name, see?) post-human ultrastars have all been in the same room at the same time for at least a decade or two. Our various careers as anarcho-filmmakers, theoretical physicists and award-winning glue-artists have scattered us to the seven corners of Hades for many millions of your human years (though to Timeless Ones such as ourselves, it has been just a few heartbeats since we last met…) Ha! What tumultuous tales were told that night of our preposterous meta-adventures in Post-Time, while Dom’s specially-compiled w*dding CDs pumped out the theme from “White Horses” and “Drastic Plastic" by BeBop Deluxe. The Crucial Four (plus guests): Heroes all! Skulls were cracked and wrist-bones broken as Lurch tried out his uncannily accurate Steven Seagal impersonation on hapless waiters and bar-staff. Thus, it is only right and proper that we, The Chosen Ones…the Killer Elite, were the last ones still standing at the bar at nearly 3am , while the hotel staff openly cried for lack of sleep and scourged themselves in our presence w/ specially-commissioned brillo-pad whips. Aye, ‘twas a wedding of immortals indeed…we spared a few humans so that they could witness the alcoholic carnage that transpired that night. In years to come, outrageous myths and legends will grow and twist until they become whispered bedtime fables used by peasants to scare their naughty children in gloomy, fire-lit crofter’s cottages…



The Crucial Four from L to r: Kid Shirt aka The Anonymous Spectre…Dom Zero aka Gothic Raymond…Stodges aka Ben Trendy…Lurch aka Dupe C. Average. (Jeez, more pseudonyms than The Wu-Tang Clan! - click to engorge)

And let’s not forget that The Crucial Four also created the Void Jazz label/imprint wh/ has now been in lo-key existence for well over 25 years. Incredible to think that it first started life as a Yeovil/Chard/Burnham-based bedroom tape-label that provided an outlet for our collective musikal phantasties, but now, all these years on, our logo (designed by Lurch and based on the Ralph Records logo, I seem to remember) has popped up on the other side of the world.

I know that The Crucial Four and all the other Void Jazz members (Trendy Brendy, come on down…) will be as chuffed as I am to discover that it has taken on a life of its own outside our own heads….witness: it is now part of a full-on murial painting in Australia (many thanks to Helen for the photos and for, well, taking all the time and effort to incorporate our post-teen totem into her own work…what can I say: cheers! You’re now an honorary Void Jazz-er…it’s like being a Mason, but, uh, more wooden…)

None us of could have ever possibly imagined, half a lifetime ago in an era before the internet, that our own twisted W. County tape-label (launch-pad of such wannabe classix albums as “At Home with The Fluid Men”, “Banzai! Jesus, Blow me out the Door” and “Wank me Daft (in The Phantom Ranch) live on Byrd’s Island, Antartica”) would also grow up, leave home and find its own place in the world.

“Live on Byrd’s Island, Antartica”: see, conceptual link there…only 22 years too late, but, shit, we really should’ve got The Skipper to have done the cover while he was over there.

But, yeah...great, great wedding. But what the hell was that in that punch...