The Bowers fucked me up but good.

Posted in by CIVIL CIVIC | Edit
From Left: Evil Spencer, Liam the Giant, Philly G and Kit, the smart-guy who stayed home and was subbed by Nadine Supervixen.

...and so, once again, to Londonium, where the iron grey sky frowns upon unemployed, middle-aged dandies, feeding their Peter Pan complexes by riding day-glo, off-the-rack fixies at walking pace through the clotted traffic like so many drugged tropical fish infesting a dying reef of shitty brick buildings.

Here's me, skipping down onto the tarmac at LCA.
I was brought hence by the outstretched wings of British Airways, depositing me at London City airport in a magical cloud of civilised adulthood, so far removed from the school-bus depravity and rank incompetence of the filthy, wretched Easyjet and their drooling, retarded patrons. If only I could have enjoyed the experience, but my mind and body had been savaged the previous night by a small pack evil rockers from my homeland.

Yea, it was The Bowers who fucked me up.

They came and stayed at my peacfull pad on Calle Avinyo, to while away a rest-day in Barcelona before tackling the last leg of their short but frenzied European Tour. I was heartened to once again meet and hob-nob with the legendary Philly G, driving force behind many a rockin Melburn outfit. But the civilised Phil was acompanied by a crazed and destructive clutch of filthy bandmates, including Liam the Giant, Evil Spencer and Nadine Supervixen, the 20 year-old stand-in drummer with the face of an angel and the body of a stripper.

Want some coconut? No? How about something stronger??
After scoring a few grams of coke from some Pakistani no-good at the beach, these trouble makers proceeded to turn my humble home into a house of ill-repute, disco dancing lewdly to the MC5 and smearing their bodily fluids allover my nice couch. Then they took me out drinking, with predictably awful consequences. I remember Nadine (wearing a sleeveless red leather jumpsuit) spitting Cashasa at a Honduran bartender and Liam the Giant singing broadway showtunes as Evil Spencer and I heaped insults on confused strangers and scoped for easy pussy. Horrible. The night seemed endless.

They forgot to add "6. Crushing shame, 7. Suicidal depression, 8.Poo in pants"
You know those hang-overs that are so wretchedly bad, so physically punishing and infused with so much shame that you moan and weep and pray for death out-loud, even while in crowded public spaces?
It was with just such a burden that I rose early next morning and made the pilgrimage through the skies to Baaron Von Cupples dismal lair in the heart of Dalston (innit). The cold rain soaked my inapropriately Mediterranean attire as I lugged my heavy sea-chest full of delay pedals and romance novels through the shitty urban sprawl of East London. The thin rasping sound of Baarons buzzer seemed to mock and goad me as I waited for him to let me inside.

So now I sit with the violent and scampish Baaron, mixing "Lights On A Leash", our new tit-ripping prog smash, while outside on the street groups of viscious Jamaican drunks hurl rotten fruit at the window and the dispiriting London autumn serves up extra helpings of freezing wind and drizzle.
What went wrong? I was such a clever and sociable child. I should be wealthy and admired and ruling the fates of many. Instead I find myself balding and tired and squabbling with an anorexic sociopath over whether to put that 808 rimshot on the 2 or the 4.

Godamnit, you bastards better go absolutely bazonkers over this track. It is steeped in pain, conflict and failure and cannot help but make the casual listener think, with an involuntary shudder, "There, but for the grace of God, go I."

But no, really, it's a top notch ditty, suitable for parties and picnics, and we're just as excited as kittens on crank to start playing it at our hilariously entertaining live shows. Come on down for a bucket full of japes and good-timey sounds. Love to see you.

Peace.

11 Comments


  1. Rebecca says:

    "...whether to put that 808 rimshot on the 2 or the 4."

    Just leave it separate and let the listener decide where to put it. In fact, let us download the whole thing with the tracks still separate and make beautiful monsters out of it. That'll give you something salacious to blog about.

    Great simile in the opening there by the way.

    October 29, 2010 at 11:12 AM

  2. CIVIL CIVIC says:

    Thanks for the prose props, Rebecca.
    In the end the rimshot went on the 3-and and the 4-and. Double the fun.

    I'll put the mixing-rights-for-all concept to the Baaron, but I think it'll just make him angry.

    October 29, 2010 at 9:17 PM

  3. Rebecca says:

    Yeah it wasn't a serious suggestion - I imagine it could cause you no end of annoyance and distress.

    October 30, 2010 at 3:38 AM

  4. theyeti says:

    It's LCY, not LCA.

    Jesus.

    October 31, 2010 at 10:30 PM

  5. CIVIL CIVIC says:

    Every hour is amateur-hour around here, baby.

    November 1, 2010 at 12:31 AM

  6. Mike

    Screw London, what you have to do is to come to Portugal so I can watch you live!

    (you can come via easyjet!... not really, just rent a boat and try to resist the urge to drown Aaron on the way)

    November 1, 2010 at 3:26 AM

  7. CIVIL CIVIC says:

    London is already screwed, in so many ways.

    But roger on the Portugese angle. I'm all for it. Where could we play? Do you know some appropriate noise-making venues?

    ...and I have a good handle on my violent urges. It's The Baaron you have to watch out for when you're up on the poop deck.

    November 1, 2010 at 2:04 PM

  8. Ramy says:

    Hey guys,
    I just watched your interview with that semi-ditzy chick, and it was highly enjoyable.
    A couple of things
    1)the box is awesome. This is obviously the first time I've seen it, and it IS mezmerizing.
    2)I also tried learning Iron Maiden when I first started. It really didn't work out for me, and lead to tears and self flagellation. How about you, Ben?
    3)you guys are laid back as shit. If you're that cool during an awkward interview with someone spitting cliche questions you, I can only imagine your chillness in person. Mark my words--one day, there will be mass intoxication shared by us. it'll be amazing.

    cheers.

    ps. you guys are about to get fat, if things keep going how they're going.

    November 4, 2010 at 2:50 AM

  9. CIVIL CIVIC says:

    Amen to that, Ramy. You're buying the first 3 rounds.

    1: Yep, the box KILLS IT!
    2: "Git-syncing" to The Trooper in my room is perhaps my only happy childhood memory.
    3: Shucks. But we're Australian, and we have our national image to think of. If we acted uptight and egotistical (like we are)the Tourist Board would send out hit-men to clean us up.

    Nice to hear from you, hombre.

    November 4, 2010 at 10:29 AM

  10. Rebecca says:

    Git-synching? Is that something you have to be an Iron Maiden fan to understand?

    And yes, the interview was tops.

    November 5, 2010 at 4:51 AM

  11. CIVIL CIVIC says:

    Git-syncing is just playing along to your favorite shreds in your bedroom while your mother yells at you to take out the garbage. It isn't Iron-Maiden-specific, but Maiden are a mainstay of the git-syncing community.

    November 8, 2010 at 6:37 PM

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