Well, not toxic, exactly... maybe just a little bit rank. But in a nice way. With a garnish.

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

killing bagpuss

If I wasn’t quite so lazy I would probably be a famous drummer by now, waving my arms around and sweating a lot behind a famous band.

Being the drummer in Killing Bagpuss didn’t make me rich or famous, even if you stretched the meanings of the words ‘rich’ and ‘famous’ to mean ‘not earned a pigging penny’ and ‘my Mum thinks I’m in Oasis’.

We played in SkankyAndy’s bedroom mostly and then, when our hearing started feeling the effects, we moved to the back of a church hall where the sound had further to travel before it bounced back at our poor, bleeding eardrums.

Ambition nipped apathetically at my ankles. I ignored it mostly. I vaguely wanted to be Lars Ulrich until I realised that the position was already filled, so I shrugged and wondered about becoming a marine biologist (I like penguins).

Luckily I was already the best teenage drummer in North Wales. Doubly fortunate, as my folks wouldn’t let me have lessons.

Killing Bagpuss was genius.

We called it Killing Bagpuss because we knew it would upset people.

Happily it worked – people were upset. It was amazing how much negative response you can get from suggesting the needless and violent murder of a fluffy toy.
The other benefit was that it was one of those names where people don’t expect much. Like Stryker or Armageddon… you know that it’s going to be a whole lot of noise and not necessarily a lot in the way of talent.
Or maybe we were really talented, who knows? Hard to say through all the feedback and internal-organ-busting screeches that came from SkankyAndy’s guitar.

We produced enthusiastic ear-splitting amounts of noise for a few months and practiced our growls. I got really good at sneering and glaring at the same time while SkankyAndy’s voice broke and the growls just got better and better.

Sadly for the nation, Killing Bagpuss broke up before the talent scout found us.

The neighbours complained and we both stropped off artistically, knowing that in a few years time these short-sighted philistines would switch on Radio One and faced with some crappy band that was "All noise – you can’t hear the words...", they would mourn the loss of the best Death Metal band that almost was.


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