So, the album’s landed and here’s the first video, including the cops busting us, on the magic roundabout in Splott (warning contains footage of a stray dildo on the loose):
to own the full album ‘Fuckbuddies’, which includes ON THE GOULASH, and NINE other techno folk tunes (all the rest are in English)… donate anything from 1p to £1million (go on) and you will receive a download of the album in your email TODAY!
thank you…. click:
heres the new single CHEAP BACCY:
last minute? yes…. 4 days i gave myself to organise the Tantrum Birthday party. well, 3. Why don’t i just plan ahead? I don’t know… things keep getting in the way, and i can only really do things of pressing importance. Make sense? no? i know. fucknose…
Anyway the doors opened bang on time… the projector looped our Norris Nuvo birthday video huge above the stage, which was ready to go and there sat a FAT PA hired in for the night from Crocker the Tantrum resident bass-expert. The place was draped in old school rave decor from Ian The Decorator and Nettie had added a load of birthday stuff and the place looked fucking wicked.
I was due on at 7pm, so running between the door duties and trying to play i pumped Flapsandwich (LIVE) and tested the rig. Never before had Koko Gorilaz attic sounded this banging. but were people going to turn up? Fucknose. i hope so coz i don’t have a penny to pay for this set up and my landlord told me he is taking me to court if i don’t cough up my £1,100 arrears by next wednesday…
A few mates were gathered on the roof-top shish garden smoking and chatting… then people started turning up… from miles away… excellent. Shaun Llewelyn took to the decks and got the vibe nice, followed by another pumping, mixer-weilding, throbbing set from producer-extraordinaire Slamfish. The place was beginning to fill up and Nettie took over door duties thank fuck.
Cosmo played a short set and set the scene with some words about the whole Tantrum thing, he then introduced Dr Conker on stage to say a few words…
Tommy Tank spun a few fat tunes and then Sicknote took to the stage… playing a riot-inducing set which led to half the crowd trying to squeeze onto stage, off their chops, hands in the air, some almost fully naked… the place went nuts.
Audio-Hertz up next turned up the heat and brought a banging rave vibe to the dance-floor with MC N.R.G. Followed by a kicking back-to-back set from Tommy Tank and Shaun.
Happy birthday to Tantrum, Kath Allen, Sam McCallum and Shani!!!!!! xx
i stuck round for a while then we grabbed some chips and fucked off home.
it’s ok i thought. Filth had booked a hire car the day before… he’ll be on it i thought…..
i facebooked him, and he went off line and by the time i got hold of him it was 11.26. expecting it all to be sorted he said he had done fuck all and anyway the car-hire place closed in 30 mins, and he didn’t even have the money in his bank (which he had told me he was going to do yesterday). “i was waiting for you” was his excuse.
“can’t you do fuck all without me?!?!?!? i just spent 4 fuckin days organising last night,… you booked car.. cant you get the money in and pick the FUCKER UP WITH OUT ME?!?!?” i spat.
“fuck you” he wheezed as he hung up on me.
so i tried phoning back… but he wouldnt answer. i thought well, to get the money in the bank and get up to the hire place was unlikely unless we pulled our fucking finger out like NOW!! but he would not answer.
I belled Doghouse, he said, “Filthy said he won’t be talked to like that from you, and now he has popped out to pick up his drums from Koko’s”.
I said “we got 20 minuted to sort the car or this gig is OFF and i’m fucking OUT if we fuck this one as i been looking forward to this BEZ thing for months”.
then conker belled me “im not interested in doing this gig as Dog and Filth turned up at 6am with 10 people and have kept me up ever since, so fuck the cunts”.
So i belled the car hire place, There was no car reserved. And there was no cars available. ANd filth got back to dog’s way after the hire-place was closed. He didn’t want to do the gig, and just wanted to go home to his misses for a cwtch. i couldn’t think of any other explanation. He still wouldnt answer and Dog said he was talking of getting the bus home to his misses. Fuck this i thought.. if my band aint up for it then im fucking leaving, im fucking out. i tried loads of people i know to see if any of them could help me out, most were in bed, didnt answer or simply said fuckin NO. i was fuming. time was ticking.
Then Doghouse phoned with some news, a friend of a friend he had never met was to turn up in one hour (2.30pm) to chuck us in the back of his van and get us to the gig. “who is it?” “fucknose” I got round dogs and planted a big kiss on filthys featureless bonse as he worryingly stared at his iphone (as he has done for 3 months now). we waited, wondering who and what the fuck was gunna turn up for us, and being that the gig was a 6 hour drive and our set was 6 and half hours from now, i was worried…..
a cool geezer called Stevie Gee turned up, a short dude, sharp as a razor, a party head and air sports enthusiast… he was an older geezer and totally up for it, he seemed fuckin on it….. and had a wicked Mercedes van… with sat nav.
“right, if we going to make this gig then you need to get the fuck in the van now”, he softly announced as he poked his round calm head into the living room.
OFF WE GO!!!!!!!!! Ady HD phones in to check on Johnny . Ady: “Where are you?” Johnny: “In the van” Ady: “Yes, but where?” Johnny: “In the middle”……
6 hours later we pull up in Crook AFC. to a warm welcome from promoter Vince Vega (yes) and a bunch of smiley northeners! “Shithouse!!” someone shouts, “its’ Doghouse you twat” replies her mate. “fuck me its Take That” says another large orange woman dressed in what appears to be a sequinned flannel.
we get our shit together and lob it back stage. beers and chilli are thrown at our starving mal-nourished orifices and we stroll around to check out the festival. small but fucking great with 3 nice banging dance tents and the main stage which is the marquee from Thimbleberry that we played in in 2008. nice system, 15k and lots of weird and wonderful people smiling and dancing. WELCOME TO EW FEST 2011!!!
We pop up the club house so Johnny No-Cash can check out the Champions league match between Manchester and Barcelona. “Get your fucking swedes out of the fuckin way of tele!” screams some wide boy Manc from behind us… we turn round and there is Bez. wearing shades, sucking a cocktail with a few birds draped over him..
Two guys then buy me a drink as they say i look exactly like their mate.. like, EXACTLY! they keep shaking my hand and looking at me for too long, shaking their heads, chewing and gurning away, they dont wanna let me go.. i’m like their new pet…. “you look just like our mate.. he tried chopping is own leg off last weekend with a blunt machete after too many acid” ….after pointing at me and showing me off to half the clubhouse and getting photos of themselves with me i finally escape.
We get on stage, the first gig up north in a some time. And bang… we are on form, it’s all clicking. Conker enters stage left and the place goes nuts. all people from all tents and the clubhouse, including security, soundmen, bouncers, bands, Vince are now bopping as we smash our way throught a banging set… with, for a change, just CONKER dancing on stage…
theres something much more powerful about our stage show when the stage isn’t covered in people dressed up and all fighting for attention..
The power of Johnny’s visuals with The Filth sat below smashing away on his kit. me and Johnny either side- the techno-geeks. and then Doghouse up front delivering his manic message with his eyes closed sweat dripping from his head. and then Conker next to him miming out his fucked up interpretation of the BOLT of techno / punk that blurts throughout this tent and fills the air with hedonism and chaos.
Last song, ‘Righteous’. my new favourite. and there he is, Bez. dancing on stage. shame he brought about 20 people with him as i wanted to see him and Conker either side of Doghouse going for it.. but still, the place went nuts and the stage was rammed.. I had to hold my laptop in the air as my stand was bouncing like fuck and i thought for a minute the whole entire stage was going to collapse…..
we headed back to Rave Heart’s house for a little party…. you know him? well he is probably the most insane fan we have ever attracted.. I’ve never understood one word he has said…i think he’s a geordie.. but i can’ae be sure… the guy’s fucking nuts…he needs his own story in itself, which i believe Doghouse is going write up on the brand new ‘DOG BLOG‘ due in a week or two… i’ll link you up 😉
Stevie Gee gets us back home and tucked up in bed by the next afternoon.
This was a great weekend.
normally i try to write up a blog for the adventures with sicknote, but considering we just got a camera here at HQ i thought that we would try and capture it……..
So, here it is: 48hours with sicknote!!!
The phone rang on Thursday night and it was Jo the excited promoter, for our big Brighton debut in a squat tomorrow night… he was banging on about a 15k rig and how he needed to know our tech spec so it was all in place… i said as long as your sound man knows what he’s doing we can go with just a line-check…
Then i phone Dickie Balboa, the Bosshog and sicknote driver, i had heard he was pissed off and fed up, and that he had had a titful of us cunts. He said upon answering, “I want out.”
I listed to his reasons and couldnt really argue with any of them
-waiting round for fucking hours for the band to stop partying after gigs
-being ignored when he phoned ready to leave
-arguments over cash
-too old for it all
-cost of the sickmobile was crippling him
-wanted to get back into his own art
-just had enuff
-given from the bottom of his heart for years
-need his time from himself
He said he would take us one last time so as to not leave us in the shit.
I got up early, hired a motor and texted Dickie: “all sorted Balb, I love you.”
We got in the car, tunes pumping and flew to Brighton in no time
WE laughed at each others hairstyles, then Doghouse tried to tell me to answer my phone and i told him to FUCK OFF, the we drove up and down the same road about 14 times until we found it……
We walked in to the squat and was greeted by Jo, he showed us to the gig room:
we stepped inside and there were 5 crusties, a dog, a mad man jumping around with his top off and a PA that looked like it was set up for a karoke in your local pub…
WHat…… THE…….. fuck.
a friendly bunch brought us food and made us feel comfortable…
slowly the place rammed out with anarchist punks, young chavs, old acid casualties and big sweaty dogs.
before we knew it we couldn’t move, rammed. people fallin over each other all over the place
I got friendly with the sound man, and he seemed to have the soundsystem tuned to it’s finest for a while, which made me think we might just be able to pull this one off….
Big heavy anarcho-punk bands slammed out their sets to a massive mosh pit, spitting cider all over each other just below a collapsed ceiling with bare wires hanging out of it….the atmosphere roared and stunk. Their big amps made it possible for them to sound pretty fucking mean, and only the vocals were coming through the actual PA, i’m thinking i gotta pump my tunes through this vocal PA after this, we have no amps…. oohhhhhh fuck.
the buzz is huge for our Brighton debut, and i’m thinking this is fucked.
I look over and our only hope of pulling this off, Jamie the soundman, was clinging on to a mic stand, with a can of special brew in his hand, eyes in the back of his head…… and then…………… BANG he fell off the stage onto the dance floor and was struggling to escape what looked like a black hole, no mind a k-hole…. “OH SHIT”
The Autonomads took to the stage and performed their Ska routine, and got the place bumping….
our good friend and London DJ, Sugarlump turned up with a bag full of t-shirts for the band, and a nice fLapSANDwitch one for me, wicked,.. he took one look at the PA and said “You’re Fucked!”
Louise Disgrace turned up with a friend but i think i was too worried to even be slightly sociable…
So, we took to stage. At this point the soundman was collapsed over the Amps balancing his body on one toe and licking the back of the amp, which incidentally was connected to the speaker leads with a Kit-Kat wrapper…. i shit you not!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Doghouse had managed to rope in a friend and sound engineer to try and make sense of the complete fucking disaster…. he managed to get us on…. we kicked off with Ectoplasmic and the place went fucking mental….
people jumping, and moshing and screaming, various nutters were grabbing the mic shouting “God Save the Queeeeen” or “Squatting is finished” … people were falling onto the stage… then we dropped Burden and BANG! the right hand speaker blew up!!! we carried on, the crowd a sea of fucking insanity spilling onto the stage….. i looked behind me at our munted engineer, he was now turnin all the knobs on the desk and amps, with his eyes shut tight and toungue hanging out…..
then BOOF, fuck all…. we were cut off completely… people were screaming…. i dragged the soundman off stage and half way across doghouse belted through his megaphone:”Ladies and Gentlemen, The Sound Man!!!” i held him up and the crowd screamed their appreciation……
a friendly topless lad grabbed my hand from the mental crowd and shouted “FUCK IT MATE, Dont stress!! we fucking love you!!!! i came from manchester for you’s and i fucking love it!”
Dog’s mate managed to get the soundsystem to come back on in the one speaker… we blasted out Pikey Drum n Bass, probably the worst we have ever sounded, the place went nuts, half way through BANG!!! game over… there was fuck all left of it.
we chilled for half hour but i was so fucking knackered…..
we got in the motor and i sped back to Cardiff, toe to the metal, tunes pumping nice, listened to The Holy Trinity EP and was fucking chuffed with it, not listened in a while……
with a fat moon in hung in the sky guiding us to our humble homeland, a wicked track from Hank Williams III caressed our echoey heads… “3 shades of Black…” – we decided this was to be the opener track for future sicknote show to bring us on stage… what a tune…. it was about 8am, i chucked the keys to The Filth and headed to my pad, i spoke to my lady on her way to work and collapsed into bed.
DICKIE BALBOA RIP
WE LOVE YOU AND THANK YOU FOR THE GOOD TIMES
so we were all set to go for our first gig of 2011, i had two belting new loops loaded up and couldn’t wait to drop ’em tonight.. it was Dr Wrong’s lady’s birthday… and things get very messy when he’s in control of things!!
i had sorted a lift for Rev and Flake which had fallen through last minute, but no-one bothered to tell me. So after finding out literally a couple of hours before we left, La Joie showed massive generosity and offered me the car to take the lovely fuckers to the gig as it would be the last gig before The Rev goes in for his big op.
There was a spare seat as La Joie was still recovering from last week’s lurgy…
So we were flying up the M5 tunes pumping, Sat Nav nagging, Phil mumbling, Flake apologising and Katya scaring the shit out me at random intervals cackling at 4000db.
The venue was a pub in the middle of a scabby looking trading estate. The first room was an old school pub with open fire and old men drinking smelly ale. There was a stage in the garden with heaters and a pumping system, a gaggle of crusties swiggin cider, Dr Wrong’s massive demented grin poked me in the eye and Graham Sugarlump hugged me while bopping behind the deck’s.
Wicked people, wicked set up. Gayface was there with his crew and threw me a beer. Safe!
After a while i wandered round and found Shuddervision Soundsystem had a room upstairs.. with main man Digits McPhee dropping some seriously fat tunes i let the bass warm me up in that room for a while. I met a load of Spartacus’ Sikh bodybuilding guido-friends, and we named them ‘Sikhnote’. Nice blokes, bit mental.
Live music from Headgames and Stiff joints got people bopping and wicked DJ Graham Sugarlump kept it jumping inbetween.
I necked loadsa cococola as the caffiene keeps me awake and after about 3 pints i’m buzzin n twitchin’ like a chubby Wilco Jonhson as we take to the stage…
we smash the fuck out of it, ‘benefit cheat’ – nailed it for the 1st time, and the two new ones souding fecking FAT… especially ‘Righteous’ probably my fave Sicknote tune now…
think The Rev captured it on video.. but he’s in for the op now, so we might not see that 1 for a while.
The crowd bounce like fuck and a spannered Kat wanders on to stage with a pint spilling all over the place looking like a lost baby t-rex. she comes over to me with the sad pouty face and beers flying all over me laptop, completely oblivious where she is………. “FUCK OFF!” i scream in her face…..
she trots off and dances directly in front of Doghouse so no one in the crowd can see him, least of all the guy with the HD camera!!! then she hits the deck.
Four times she kisses the deck and get’s back up, i grab a sweaty Spartacus-in-a-dress and tell him if he calls himself Sickurity then get her off the fucking stage.
Done my box in. BANNED, lionel last week, Kat this week.
The place went nuts, and we played an encore of 3 tunes.
Philo Deranged screamed PIKEY at me and so we finished with Pikey Drum n Bass which seemed apt….
I got off stage, went to the car and some cunt had put the window through and nicked my ipod shuffle, Kat’s sat nav and jill’s monster munch. fucking gutted. the back passenger window was completely shattered. cunts. i was fucking fuming…
Dickie Balb helped me patch up the window. Katya had lostALL of her stuff and was now missing. Gayface had sent word she was safe with him. We fucked off home, with Flakey’s ipod plugged in treating us to some lovely wobbly bassed tunes, just the way she likes it. My anger disolved in the comfort that some fucker was dancing to my tunes on my ipod out there, and so what, a piece of glass, worse things have happened….. i Popped in theirs for a cuppa about 5 or 6am, then went to sort da window, got to bed in the afternoon….
Mission Accomplished. Slept like a dog.
It’s tuesday now, Kat got back safe, Dickie fucked off without the boys again, and Filth is home, but i think Doghouse and Johnny are stil up there loving the attention and getting trollied. ahah. I’ll wait for the call in a few days when they’re all depressed and skint. ahahahahaaaaa
SMASH THE EDO massive gig in BRIGHTON>>
info to follow
ooooh, just had a message off Phil, he’s waiting for a hospital bed, they gunna phone him, keeping him hanging there and stressed bunch of shit… in the meantime he uploaded the first play of ‘righteous’.. not the best sound.. but gives you an idea where we goin with this one:
after an amazing christmas time, i leave the lovely Lajoie in bed with the lurgi, crying, gutted she can’t celebrate the new year….
i head home and chill with ninjah for a while.
dickie balboa turns up, and off we go. there’s a WAG in the car!!! Miss Furry Muff, it’s against the rules, but we let Dog off cos he just got her back and he has never looked so happy.
I’m thinking about things in a weird wonky way, head not in the right place…
but fuck it i won’t bore you with the details…
After a few hours bouncing round in the car talking total bollocks we arrive at the warehouse in Shoreditch, and what a fucking venue! 1500 capacity, four fat rooms… we find the live room and catch a smiley Mr Dave Skelcey, the main man.
The tribe start to turn up, and everyone is hugging me more than usual and someone jibbers, “you’re such a people person” – think they taking the piss coz i aint hardly seen spoke to a soul since the last gig 3 weeks ago(!)
We chill back stage, behind the speakers, separated by a bit of cloth, it is fucking LOUD as fuck.. and pretty small, and uncomfortable. not ideal.
everyone gets a bit wobbly and then what the fuck’s this? It’s a line dancing band, live on stage… fucknose?!!!??! we slap our thighs and bosch more shite/….
Midnight strikes to mark the end of my favourite year ever. I grab Dickie and plant my quivery crusty lips on his unsuspecting beefy chops.
the warehouse fills up with weird and wonderful smiley people.
Some weird force seems to grip the tribe and force all their smiles upside down… summink is wayward…
coocoo what gwan
A burlesque dancer takes to the stage as our warm up act, and Johnny No-Cash is standing behind the stage watching her, he leans over to a guy and says… “What the fuck is that fat bird doing on stage?” and the guy replies, “Thats my girlfriend.”
How to Win Friends and Influence People Part 2 by Johnny No-Cash will be available on Tantrum Books in the summer.
Finally we are called to the stage….
WE play a blinder only spoiled by a few helmets on stage, and the prize peni Lionel Rich Tea who spills my entire can of cider all over my table so my laptop is fucking dripping mid-set and manages to dance in front of doghouse for the rest of the set. hmpf.
i drop the new ‘snowing’ drum n bass track i made in bed a while back and it’s lush to see the place go nuts.. fuckin loves it..
Flake gets a bit wonky and the tribe leave straight after the gig. A few weird fish throw some sweets and shrooms into our desperate brandy filled jowells, Filthy strolls off to a doorway area where hundreds of people are passing and mongs out….
i visit a few odd levels and before we know it we are all monged and the sun is up and no-one really knows what the fuck is going on. Well, I dont thats for sure
we leave thru a back door, and i lob myself in the naughty seat so i don’t have to communicate. as i’m incapable. several huors later i’m launched into a bustop full of shoppers in a busy street in Cardiff, with my trousers round my arse and a bottle of god knows what under my arm, my hunch back has sprouted again, and i drag my pathetic carcass across the gloomy afternoon city…
i launch the bottle into the nearest bin, and i’m busting for a toilet…
I make it to my front door, piss all over it, crawl upstairs and collapse in a heap.
a two day complete mental breakdown follows.
Johnny No-Cash and Dickie Balboa were in the front joking about my Marge Simpson hair do and i was calling them cunts. We picked up Doghouse, who took ages to come out of the house, and slotted himself in the motor with a bottle of vino and a smug grin…. think he may have got his end away last night, or was it dole day?
On the way to pick up The Filth we passed him walking down the street, screaming “KINNOCK!!!!” “CUNT!” “GAY! ” at him as we drove past. he caught us up and lobbed in the drum kit and off we headed to Swansea for our return to the Monkey Bar for WONKA VISION!!!!
we arrived early had a few beers and sound checked.. Crocker, our trusty bass goliath and sound man extraordinaire turned up as planned, we were in safe hands.