I’ve added a bit of advertising to the Crawling Chaos site and other linked and relevant sites to see what happens. I was in two minds about this but after some investigations I’ve decided to give it a go as I can easily pull it if it’s too crap .

I’ve only set it up for adsense so far. The Yahoo bit can wait for now.

Because it’s a niche I don’t expect too much of it, but that is why it’s important to try the process and see what happens. Scalability is easily achieved by creating more sites tailored to whatever. If it works here, it’ll work anywhere.

Strangely Perfect

Code: FOETUS 0001

What’s Your Noise

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Fuel For The Blonde Ethiopian

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Taste Of Honey

A fairly straight rendition of a classic. Loads of 7th’s.

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Mummy’s Tummy

Doomage creation with Mackie vocals. I don’t think we ever did it live.
Fast flanged vocals, fuzz bass, large depth VCA’d keyboards. Pretty daft. More a vehicle for Mackie to relieve himself of some bizarre fantasy.

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Valium B

School hymn reworked - why not?

Paul sung. The rest is normal Crawling Chaos fiddling. We did have plans to do a few more as a package to upset the “Songs of Praise” mob.

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Ashen

Ashen fay-ace!

Basic structure was a Doomage invention, worked up by the other band members.. Single note keyboards on top with bass & drums. Unusual musical phrasing. Haircut words. The words in Ashen are based on Haircut and Holly’s observation of the bartender in a pub in Backworth called “The Deuchars“. The barman had really greasy, lank straight hair that clacked when he bent over to collect empty glasses. The Deuchars pops up in a few places. We never did get the Dyke Neuk fitted in anywhere. Anyway, it’s too posh now.

Ashen was in the set for quite a few years.

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Tom’s Bum (There’s)

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Stinging Gnats

Doomage inspired. The essence was to have each instrument do a closely related, simple and repeating phrase, each on a different time signature but in the same key. Every so often the music is in phase and true harmony. This is broken up with a standard block chord middle eight prompted by Gazza on drums so each “verse” is of indeterminate length, done on the nod.

This was in the set for years.

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Heavy Lovin’

E.F.S. -which nobody can deny, which nobody can deny.

Heavy metal piss-take. Includes all the usual crap like riffs, solos, namings. A key part of the sound was Strangely’s use of a long hallway at “The Pits” with a cheap guitar amp at one end and a mike at the other. This was the Echo Chamber. Strangely gave it a go after reading how studios did echo in the old days.

The live feed was fed through the amp and re-injected into the mix from the mike. Then this was continuously varied to get a live feel of the audience moving around and the PA mixer guy constantly battling against feedback. It is exactly what gigs sounded like at the “Mayfair”, Newcastle in the 70’s. They’re still doing it now in the pubs round here. Anth played on this and thought it was real.

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The Mongolian Steak Bar

Strangely created. Comes from the verse intro of the Rod Stewart song, “If You Think I’m Sexy” mated to a few key Rachmaninov key changes. Fizz guitar works but Holly’s bass doesn’t. I just don’t think it should be a bass guitar, that’s all. Will redo bass part with a breathy bass saxophone and low bass keyboard rumbles.

When this tune was named, the name seemed pretty wacky. Since then there has been a Mongolian Restaurant down on the quayside in Newcastle for some years. However, at the time of recording, you went down “The Side” to the Quayside at night in pairs at least and there were only the “Crown Posada” and my auntie’s pub, the “Newcastle Arms” right under the Tyne Bridge. The back alleys were really dodgy. Now they are trendy housing developments. You should see it…

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Voedoux

Joint creation of Doomage and Strangely. Each had virtually the same effects. Importantly, a VCA/VCF with separate input and output for the internal LFO VCO. Also, a VCA fuzz box so that an input voltage would modulate the degree and tonality of fuzz.Each persons VCO LFO output was connected to the other’s VCA/ VCA-fuzz input.
Then the VCO speeds were set to be close but not exact so that long period beat frequencies were initiated. The input sensitivities were turned right up to amplify internal noise. Then the outputs were sent through the mix with lots of cross-echo for each heavily panned source and a bit of extra bass to get a better thump noise…It is a helluva good rythmn. The plan was to do loads more like this. Percussion and screeches/shrieks were added on top to add a bit more atmosphere. The name is a pseudy rendition of Voodoo, pronounced the same.

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Tell Me Why

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East Of West Allotment

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Suck

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One More Peso

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There’s no order or sense to all this. It’s as it comes. All the music anecdotes are being moved to accompany the tracks as an entity, hopefully making a bit more sense. After that, this page will be repository of stupid things and remarkable feats - in other words, anecdotes, which will be added to over time.

Music:

Composition:

Info:

Loofas

A Nothin’ originated tune. The only significant difference is the addition of keyboards by Strangely, especially the start which is G major and G Dim alternating chords terminating with a Bflat major then B major chord.Apparently, one day Holly and Shieldsy were going to put some flowers on his grandad’s grave. On the back seat of the bus they were travelling on was a bag containing a loofa. The bus was the 442*** (Ashington to North Shields via Deleval). They loofa and flowers were left on the grave as a gift together. Nice.***the 442 is no more since 2007. It’s now the 12 and doesn’t go as far. This means if the words are changed it’ll be crap.

Gigs & Happenings:

Location	Info
Strangely Perfect memory of the Leigh Festival.This is the text of a posting I made here.	Angst in East Lancs Wasteland This was the banner headline in NME I think for the gig at the Leigh Festival. Either that or Sounds and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t Sounds. Two things stick in my mind about the gig apart from it being freezing cold and there being no-one there. On the bus there were no toilets but there was lots of beer. So the empty tins were getting filled with piss (I think the bus only did one piss stop on the journey). Jeff had just filled one and Billy Connolly (Gordon) asked if he could have a drink because he was thirsty. So Jeff gave him the can and Gordon drank it remarking only, that it tasted warm The second thing is the fact that Crawling Chaos had a song called “Merry Christmas, Prince Charles” which Jeff and me wrote in my bedroom in 10 minutes and embellished over time. The song started with a long monologue from me backed by mournfull keyboard and guitar sounds and a few cymbal splashes. The gist of the “speech” was about a fictionalised personal meeting between Strangely Perfect and Prince Charles which I always made up on the spur of the moment. Leigh Festival had some toilets (I’d just been and they were to the right when viewed from the stage) and I fitted them into the monologue. An hour or so later, when we’d finished playing, this beautiful girl came up to me and started talking about the Prince Charles song (I thought I was in there as I naturally thought she was chatting me up…). She said “You know you mentioned the toilets where you saw Prince Charles?” “Yes?” I feverishly replied…. “Well can you tell me where they are ‘cos I’m bursting?” she deflatingly retorted with her question. Apart from that, we didn’t stay to see Joyce Division but we saw OMD and their spinny tape deck (we had one similarly but kept it out of sight)
Visit to Tony Wilson at Glossop: This is the text of a posting I made here	In this review of the 24 hour party people film, the author, Miranda Sawyer states So, the Tony Wilson of the film is constantly saying, ‘I’m a Cambridge graduate, you know,’ which the real-life Wilson doesn’t. ..er. That’s not quite true from my recollection , you know. Before “Sex Machine” was released by Factory we made a surprise visit to Wilson’s house in Glossop, (not the one in Palatine Road, Didsbury - that was another time when we got scowled at by everyone there except Erasmus and Wilson). Initially, Wilson wouldn’t let us in. But we knew he was in, by the car, smoke from chimney, etc. He popped his head through a chink in the curtains to see who was there, and when he saw it was a bunch of scruffs, let us in. It was a nice little cottage on the side of a hill and was a lovely sunny day. He told us “sorry… but I’m a bit worried after the Louis Edwards expose I’ve done on “World in Action” “. He presented/investigated for the show corruption in Manchester United and he thought the big boys were coming round to do him in. We got the picture from his end, this is someone’s view from Man U Trust. After that, we got chatting and smoking. He had a huge video collection with all the “So It Goes” tapes, which was nice. He was especially pleased to show us some old Tiswas stuff which he droned on about. During the stay, Jeff and him started comparing degrees e.g. “wot you get - oooh, a first! Where d’yu geddit - oooh Cambridge, oooh Newcastle” etc etc. At this juncture, some of the lads got bored and went to play in the fields. Me, the bleeze was too much and I passed into neverland. The point of all this; well he did go on about his degree and he was immensely proud of it.
Gosforth Hotel, Salters Road, Gosforth, Tyne & Wear	Site of early gigs on roster with The Noise Toys (TNT) etc. This is the pub where Chris Donald started his Viz mag.
The Russel Club, Mosside, Manchester	Site of the Gratton “joke”. JD didn’t play too bad. There were a lot of really scary black guys wearing floor length fur coats looking like they were packin’. I remember “Echo Beach” being played a lot between bands. When Crawling Chaos found that Joy Division weren’t going to drink their post gig pile of “Pils”, we stepped in and drank the lot. This was when Curtis came up to me and said: “Well, I’ve tried to speak to you lot, but I just can’t get on with you…” in a very gay way.. Curly Jhon gave him the ritual tirade of “Joyce! Joyce De Vision!” whence he walked off. Two weeks later he hung himself.
The Bridge Hotel, Newcastle	Site of first gig. Quite a bit was recorded here at various times e.g “Berlin”. First gig sucked Curly Jhon into into the fold. Doomage was really confident, so much so I was shocked by the looks on some audience faces. Strangely wore a home-made steel Viking helmet, borrowed from a biker bloke that lived in the flat below the Attic. He hung sanitory towels from the cheek pieces, dyed up to look used. It lasted two tunes as it was so fucking heavy; each time he tried to play keyboards it slipped over his face, bonked his nose and almost broke his neck with the weight of it. Last Exit played regularly there and thereabouts. One member was called Gordon Sumner.
Spectro Arts Workshop, Newcastle	Played a few times there. Nice and clean and white inside. This was the gig when Strangely realised that women didn’t hold all the sexual cards. As was normal at the time, Strangely would get his kit off down to his old man long johns. Whilst prancing around he became aware that all the women in the audience weren’t listening to the music, but just trying to get a glimpse of his willie if it popped out of the slot in the front (there were no fly buttons or other closure devices).
Guildhall, Newcastle	Played as part of a big “Rock Against Racism“/”Anti-Nazi League” event. Other bands included The Mekons and X-o-dus. The Crawling Chaos played and the next lot came on. After about 10 minutes, an infiltration of thuggish types charged through the crowd, poured onto the stage and backstage as well. Strangely was pushed backstage while trying to shut the doors and hid under a table. Dozens of police arrived. A burly copper replied to me when I answered his question with “It’s a rock against racism event. It’s supposed to be peaceful.”"That Peaceful!” It’s more like a bloody war zone here”. Fatso got hit on the head with a fire extinguisher although someone said they’d seen a speaker flying through the air in his direction. The legend continues. He got CIC money though.
Penmaenmawr, North Wales	Fuckin mushrooms and beer.On the way to play at a nurses home in Wales, the hire van broke down just north of Tebay (where the services are now, more or less). While waiting for a replacement, a field of magic mushrooms was espied. Everyone started collecting “for later” but most put one in the pocket, one in the gob. By the time the new van arrived everyone was spaced out, possibly ‘cos we woz threatened by a big guy with a shotgun at the old Tebay services . I have a lasting vision of Clinka strutting round lane one on the M6 with a cardboard guitar, getting nearly killed by the traffic.After stopping for (more) beer in Runcorn (luxury), we arrived at the nurses home, carried the gear up loads of stairs, set it all up and then went into a dark room for 12 hours without playing because we couldn’t see anything as there was too much spurious visual input.The next day we were still spaced out. I was shivering like mad in a crap seaside cafe thinking I was going to die. I think I took about 1000 magic mushrooms of the good firm snot-like variety, about a large handfull. It’s the only time I couldn’t tell if my eyes were open or closed, that night. A severe excess ? Fucking bad.
Durham	Crawling Chaos played a youth club in Durham and left the postering to other folks - fatal mistake, although they didn’t do anything we hadn’t done previously.However, the local burgers of that city haven’t quite forgiven the Viking pillagers from the North yet and so took offence at having various green GPO connector boxes, lamp-posts and walls plastered with our advertising (which included contact details!! (twit).In Wallsend, the local coppers paid a vist to Fatso and Harry and hauled them off to the nick where they gave their names as Doomage Khult and Errol Dynamic, amusing the desk sargeant greatly.He soon saw the ruse and we all ended up being charged, summonsed and then visited Durham Magistrates Court where I was told to stand up straight and take my hands from my pockets by the Clerk of the Court. The “Post Office Installations” figured many times in the charge sheets which were read out completely to each of us, to which we all pleaded guilty and were each fined £1 for each offence and £5 costs. That was £11. It seemed to take about an hour.So that was that then.
Hamilton Hotel, Whitley Bay, Tyne & Wear	This picture from this page shows a pic from an attic looking down South Parade. The Hamilton has changed names several times since Crawling Chaos got chucked out for being too loud.It was down on the left of South Parade heading towards the sea. The Rex Hotel is visible as the last hotel on the right before the sea. It’s still there.A gig was arranged and I organised a magician old school friend called Dave Brown to do a spot in between our two sets. Unfortunately, the owner woman found the music too loud and offensive (she should have guessed by our name, doh!) and called the police as we refused to stop playing until we were paid. A big burly sergeant turned up with a bit of backup ‘cos the place was pretty packed. I put on my diplomatic hat and arranged for us to finish with a couple of quiet numbers, then the magician to do his spot, and then we’d get paid and go. I remember Doomage and Fatso getting pretty fired up for an argument. We must’ve looked like good punk-bad punk to her, poor red-lip-sticked woman. The big old sergeant asked her if this was okay, in a reasonable voice, she aquiesed, and the agreed events passed by.So that’s what happened. Extra info here.

like getting locked up in Ashington nick because of the chalk and cheese
brothers….

like the chalk and cheese incident later on the same night with the van door
dropping onto a copper’s foot in Tynemouth….

like the pissed up gig at the Rock Garden in Covent Garden….

like the gig at the Moonlight Club that led to the ridiculous slagging off by Adam Sweeting (can he play anything at all?)….

like the fight at the Manchester’s Electric Circus as a clash of personalities erupted between guitarists (no beer spilt tho’)….

like the Manchester tour where at one gig Fatso forgot his drums so we just miked up beer trays and mats for him…

like the fight at the Electric Ballroom, London when Macky got walloped by one of The Monochrome Set . “And quite right too” - said Holly in a recent email to me (2 Dec 2007).

Sex Machine

I’ve got a brand new pair of genes

I’ve been to the doc, he’s got the means

He’s turned me into a Sex Machine

He’s given me a pair of enormous balls

That could even fill the Festival Hall

With schoolgirls *screaming* for more and more (*sometimes creaming or even squeaming*)

I’m going to the doctor’s

It’s easy you see

No need for operations

And you’ll know how it feels

Tomorrow I get my hands done

With fifteen fingers and a phallic thumb

I’ll rattle the girls till they come and come

The stomach lining change has really done the trick

It brews alcohol and give me kicks

And makes he have supersonic sicks

(Chorus)

I’ve got pricks on my toes and one on my nose

And some on my back that nobody knows

But the one I got first still grows and grows

I’ve got a set of clits hanging in my ear

I’ve been to the doc to get a smear

He told me I had gonorrhea

(Chorus)

I nuclear prick is hidden up my bum

I tried it on a lady who likes some fun

And she got blown to kingdom come

(Chorus)

(Explosion)

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Harry

I’ll send away for anything free

Coz coffee doesn’t interest me

Doo-Doo, doo doo, doo doo

I’m afraid to eat my tea

Oh! but I love saucers

Spinning on bendy sticks

Harry Secombe’s coming to tea (twice) (later changed to: Carry beacons
into the sea)

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Merry Christmas, Prince Charles (*Original Version. Remake will have currently relevant lyrics) - it’s got to be done coz he’s a twat

Christmas is coming

The pigs are getting fat

Gonna put some coppers

In the coppers hat

The kids all join the navy

They want a royal kiss

Peter, Mark, Andrew’s what they’re called

I’m so happy it’s Christmas

Merry Christmas Prince Charles

Merry Christmas Prince Charles

Merry Christmas Prince Charles

Merry Christmas Prince Charles

Our Captain rides horses

He also rides Ann

Puftas don’t make queens

They only make fancy men

Make sure you’ve got some money

Keep it all

Don’t give it to charity

Just to the Policeman’s Ball

(Chorus) followed by indeterminate length guitar solo and audience posturing when performed live

(Chorus)(optional)

You’ve got a father who’s no better

He’s just a greasy wop from Greece

The people all look up to him

And his Gold Award Scheme

Make sure you’ve got some money

Keep it all

Don’t give it to charity

Just to the Policeman’s Ball

(Chorus) x2 at least

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Loofas (track appears unlisted as what would be track 4 on LTM print of Homunculus Equinox)

I’ve got loofas at home in a bag

I’ve got loofas on the 442

I take loofas to my grandpa’s grave

I’ll bring loofas to you

Aaaaaah!

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Mummy’s Tummy

Sitting in my womb

Feels like I’m growing in a tomb

Cos she’s my mummy and I’m living in her tummy

Mummy’s tummy! Mummy’s Tummy!

Sitting in my womb

Feels like so cozy

Can’t breathe much in here

Connected by a tube

Sitting in my mummy’s tummy

Trying to suck my thumb

I’m in my mummy’s tummy

It’s mummy’s tummy

I’m in my mummy’s tummy etc etc etc etc etc

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Ashen

Ashen,

Ashen Face,

Ashen Face, powder white venture

Clack’n

Clack’n Hair

Clack’n Hair says things, clack! clack!

Roger’s okay

Roger’s alright

Roger’s just fine

Ashen,

Ashen Face,

Ashen Face, powder white venture

(chorus)

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Newspapers

I haven’t got time for the fashion pages

The dressed up tarts get me in a rage

The monetary men can leave me alone

‘Cos I don’t have money and I don’t have a car

Well the motoring column can stay where it is

In between the weather and the gossip columnists.

Oh the Marchioness of Sh-shit is doing all right

She’s off on holiday where the weather is “rather nice”

She fancies a singer who’s divorce is almost through

But he likes an old flame who’s inherited some glue.

I haven’t got time for the stock exchange buffs

In their pin-striped suits they’re a load of puffs

You’ve got to have money to make a bomb

So why the hell won’t they give me some?

It’s not for me that I whinge and moan

Just the good of the nation, I mean

I’m on the dole.

Oh I hate the tarts in their revealing skirts

They won’t show their cunts

What a load of flirts

Its’s all so nice

It’s all so cute

Here’s the new line for the spring that’s due.

Profitability is a sign of the times

You’ve got to keep on working for the rest of your lives

Now the tories are in ( Alt: If the tories get in)

It’s alright for the surgeons (Alt: It’ll be alright for the surgeons)

But us on the dole we’ll be cutting grass verges.

It’s true.

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The Outsider

Desolation could be gaining on me

It’s all fancy

Corruption around the next bend

Maybe.

The knife grazes the temple

Just glancing

I’m a clapped-out, stinking miasma

I don’t think Mary cares for me.

Well I guess I’ve just wasted my life

Flickin’ through magazines thinking I might

Gonna take out a nightmare trip

Do summat to find some kicks

Desolation could be gaining on me

It’s all fancy

Corruption around the next bend

Maybe.

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All I Need is a Love that Burns (also called Pleasure)

All I need is a love that burns

All I need is a girl that’s hot

All I need is another day

Because that’s all I got

I’m not for you

I’m not for you

I’m not for you

I’m just for me……

…eaning what you say doesn’t bother me

Give me all your money and run away

Telling all your friends about a man you once knew

Running to your mummy like I just don’t know

Chorus

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Gygno

Like a Turkish Pirate

I fall lame

With every chance that I get

But the weals on my back make me forget

Never able to stand up

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Urbane Encounter

Crawling through the centre of the screaming souls

I can’t tell the time like the way I should

I can’t wait long I’m only twenty-two

By the time I get out I’ll be turning blue

And you know how it feels to be locked in a zoo

Well, I feel like a suicide’s death bed

You people step on me and you don’t care

You’re only rushing home for your tea

You’re only doing the same as me

I lean against a wall to collect my thoughts

I get swept along in the surging throng

I don’t use money I use credit cards

In all the shops with the security guards

I’ve gotta get out before the shops close down

I don’t want to get locked in the dosser’s town

Insane Domain, it’s crawling with bird brains

You can’t complain, when the place is a shit drain

You double your chances of catching the louse

When you walk out the door to the mad-house

Morbid thoughts rushing through my mind

As the people scratch past as they run out of time

The subways are packed right out to the seams

By a glutinous mob who’ve spent past their means

In boutiques, and cafes, and hi-fi stores

But let’s see you show me the dirty book store

There’s no reason for me to stay

Well, I didn’t want to come here in the first place

Well, I only came to buy a pound of pears

And I’m gonna be here for years and years, and years.

When the muzak starts I just can’t stop

Thinking about all the tunes of grot

And up at the bar where the sporty types forage

It’s eight-four pence for a pint of orange

The security guards stalk round and round

And it’s out on your arse if you don’t fit with the crowd

Strobe lights and fashionable bars

There’s no place to park your car

The smell of the cafes, it makes me want to puke

And you’ll easy get out if you’ll only look, well look!

* A Fifth verse, later ommitted, went as follows:

Santas on windows with sprayed-on snow

And plastic reindeer with nose aglow!

Velkom tir Nordski, all over the place

The money situation’s a shocking disgrace

And little children try to head you in the fly

And old ladies with umbrellas try to poke out your eye

This referred to the fashion at Xmas for Northumberland Street in Newcastle to be plastered with Norwegian slogans as well as the normal festive stuff. This was due to the then favourable exchange rate with Norway, so Norwegians arrived in their droves. I’ve included this verse even though it was crap because it features in one of the first live recordings. This will be in the streamed audio section soon enough. It WAS funny for a bit, though - like, you know.

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Worms

Get off your heart

Get off your soul

Win the race

Makes you feel small

It’s the end

Of a soul

It’s the end

Of us all

I can smell the worms coming

I can smell the worms coming

Coming

Yah!

Yah!

Repeat ad infinitum until satisfied, etc etc etc

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Jhonn’s Angel

Flies gather around

Her festering eyes

In the ferns where she lies

Sky aurial sky

Beltane Beltane

Beltane Beltane

Beltane In the Kingdom of flies

Turn alternate things

Those pesky ferns

In the smokescreen of wings

Saliva tentacle clings

Oh Ouiji-ji

Beltane Beltane

Beltane Beltane

Beltane In the Kingdom of flies

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Frauline le Moine

Vulnerable clocks keep turning

When the blue soul rises dilly-dilly

Pewter jugs rust in France

He used to say I’d lost my teepee

Danny Slater is bianco

Festooned in his mama’s blanket

Good lordy me! I’ll have to impale ya

Stab and burn your red regalia

Blokies wear hair laquer in the Deuchars, oh!

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Throwing Pins

I’m throwin’ pins, I’m throwin’ pins

I’m throwin’ pins all over the ground

I’m throwin’ pins, I’m throwin’ pins

I’m throwin’ pins all over the ground

Well I’ve been throwing pins now

I’ve travelled all around

I’ve been right up the country and then I came back down

I’ve never had such fun

In the whole of my life

And when I get more experienced I’ll go onto throwing knives

Chorus

It really is such fun

Throwin’ pins on the beach

Watchin’ all those people with those pins stuck in their feet

The pain those people get

It really is such a crime

And when I get more experienced I’m gonna take it up full time

Chorus

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