Hey, hey, hey, back to the old typewriter to save ma poor wrist, which is, as a matter of fact, feeling much better, thank you very much. Now’s a Friday, another week rushes by. It’s great to be at home, even if this house doesn’t feel much like home, at least it’s not at work right? And it’s a shame the poor Broni has to leave me each morning to go to her work but I get up at the same time too and organise myself.
Broni did try and leave me lists of things to do but I’m proving to her that I am a domesticated little bunny anyway and even presented her with a delicious curry meal last night that I slaved over in the kitchen (not true really, I just picked some recipe and cooked ’em, this cooking business is a piece of piss if you’ve got all the ingredients – that’s the hardest thing to organise I reckon and I remember zip from doing Home Economics at school).
We got into our heads we were going to get on a train and travel around Scandinavia until Wednesday when Broni got home from work early and we dashed into town to find out info when it dawned on us quite how expensive it was going to be and how little time we had to organise (time and organisation – keywords in my life right now). So we walked across the street into a travel agent and booked us a ticket to Rhodes – just like that, no messing about here. No time, no organisation!
We both talked to Rob for ages that night as prom music blasted out from the TV – Cool! I typed up my column for the STE Bulletin next day which was my first use of a normal typewriter in a zillion years, can’t beat computers. Hopefully, it will stir a few people up. You know, sometimes I write down some stuff and just run along thought processes and end up with some really enlightened stuff, stuff I wouldn’t normally think of. I wonder how I can run that process without having to write it down. It would be a definite advantage to be able to analyse the situation immediately but my mind’s always in such a blur of speed (not the drug) that thoughts get lost before they’re even thunk! Broni calls me impulsive, which is probably nicer than what some people would call it!
Five days is often too long a period of time to recall some events and with the blur of the weekend that passed, anything beyond is lost without a struggle, ‘cept I remember Broni had the Friday off work and we went into town. I remember the bookshop and that’s it! Lettuce and coriander also trigger those memory cells. Aha – recall we got stoned in the evening and a bottle of sparkling wine! Needless to say, we fell asleep after that!
On Saturday we found ourselves back in Southampton with the intention of sorting through poems with Rob but we got diverted by music and cooking for the bands playing tonight’s gig. Time flies by with some way cool conversation concerning certain columns for the next S.T.E. gig bulletin (and Rob’s cool one for the current bulletin).
Me and Broni go via Selinas to drop off our gear then give her a lift to the gig. Lots of people, lots of noise, standard gig by the S.T.E. standards, unfortunately, no bands really shine out except maybe Thirst who now sound much fuller with Phil moving over to second guitar and Crispin coming in on bass. More practice and confidence and they’ll be cool for sure.
Sooner or later (and me much drunker) we head back to Selina’s with support band Travis Cut in tow and things start to liven up and develop into a mini raging party with various people dancing round the dining room table to Rocket from the Crypt. The last time I see a clock, it’s about 2am, I’m sure I crawl up onto a bed in the middle of a conversation and curl into the fetal position only five minutes later but find out next day it was nearer 4 o’clock.
Awake at nine we find Rob crashed at the top of the stairs, no blanket, no nothing – mad boy! Rich at the bottom of the stairs claiming victory over sleep with a 6 o’clock touchdown after chatting to Selena through the last couple of hours. Johnny on the floor, who I take pity on by farting in his sleeping bag, much to Rich’s amusement and poor Johnny got relegated to the floor cause I wussed out on his bed, Broni joining me soon after apparently – I was out for the count!
Time doesn’t stand still for us anyway and before you can say Canned Heat we’re on the road again, this time too Welham Green, a tiny pretty village near St Albans, to meet another of Broni’s cousins, Purdy, her boyfriend, the strong silent softy Duncan, along with Piers and Isobel. We are zombied to some extent and the day takes on a very relaxing shape with a salad and quiche in the quiet garden while next door’s racing pigeons practice circle manoeuvers overhead and little ones running around keeping us entertained.
And here we got our first wedding gift – a beautiful blown glass bowl that we can only guess the expense of – amazing subtle colours that sparkle in the sunlight. And then, after Piers and Isobel depart, we walk off our lunch across fields, woods and streams, sun glorious in its life-bringing, the fields open up and reveal the earth and its true freedom (imprisoned and abused by man for most of us). Life couldn’t be simpler and lost I was in the beauty of it all.
And now as I write and in my dreams last night, one phrase repeats round and round my head, “If ugliness is all you see you can just tear out your eyes” (Flag of Democracy).
We get home after a 2 1/2 hour drive and slip-slide in the warm soothing waters of our bath before dozing off into dreamworld. Our minds reliving each second of each day to try and catch a memory and keep it and hold it forever (save writing it down), lost in the blur mostly. Write your book of dreams, friends.
“Another landmark & eventful gig for us! One evening I took a phone call from a bloke called Stuart asking us about a Joiners gig for HUGGY BEAR! Now as this was not too long after the height of the Riot Grrl media exposure & HUGGY BEAR had made a high-profile appearance on ‘The Word’ (Channel 4’s then flagship music show) my initial reaction was to suggest that he spoke to Mint about doing a Next Big Thing gig but Stuart was adamant that they wanted to play a D.I.Y. gig & that he knew all about the S.T.E. When I met Stuart at the gig it turned out we recognised each other from London gigs & he was a friend of Sean from WAT TYLER! So we did the gig & there were no problems at all with how things worked – as per our usual way of working there was no contract or guarantee. There were a couple of surprises though – the first was that a band from Plymouth called PERSECUTION COMPLEX turned up & ended up playing. The second was that Graham Coxon from BLUR was going out with one of HUGGY BEAR then & he accompanied his girlfriend to The Joiners. Afterwards, when he heard that Coxon had been in attendance, Rob Turl exclaimed that he would have decked him if he’d known! THIRST! opened & their ‘Friend’ 7″ was out at this point (the very first SD Records release). This was also the start of a long & wonderful friendship with the guys from TRAVIS CUT (Chris Evans, Mac Cut McDonald). We’d met them at a JAWBOX gig in their Harlow hometown earlier in the year & got in touch, loved their debut ‘Waking Hours’ 7″ & when Nottingham’s BOB TILTON, who were originally billed couldn’t do it (we’d have to wait for their first S.T.E. gig), they were an obvious replacement. Afterwards TRAVIS CUT stayed at Jonny, Selina & Dave’s house in Maybush, me & Rob joined them & it was a wonderful evening. The next day, just as TRAVIS CUT drove home to Harlow, a beautiful cat turned up almost as if he’d jumped out of their van. He stuck around & it seemed inevitable to call him Travis (Cat). I immediately struck up an affinity with Travis & a year later when Jon & Selina moved to a house where they couldn’t have cats, Travis moved in with me & lived with me for the next 14 years of his long life until his passing in 2009. R.I.P. Travis. Sadly, Stuart the guy who booked the HUGGY BEAR date passed away some years back too. The flyer backdrop photo was of a Japanese or Korean musician that I again purloined from The Observer or Guardian newspaper.”
5th Jan 2024 – I was selling off my records at the back of the room throughout this show and though I remember little of the supports, I was really into Huggy Bear’s music but at one point their hyperbole made me wonder what their point was as it was a little lost in the mess of noise coming from the stage. From the back of the room, I shouted out ‘Who are you and why am I here?’ to which Bronwyn shushed me. I thought it was quite a valid sentiment though not sure if anyone was paying attention really. And it really didn’t stop me from enjoying them at all.
The last 2 S.T.E. gigs at the Joiners have really impressed me and I don’t just mean band/music-wise. Being a long-time friend of the S.T.E. Collective, I feel reasonably comfortable at the gigs and the Joiners where most have been in the last 4 years and I guess I know pretty well what to expect.
Over the time, one gig sticks out as being particularly good and that was seeing Green Day play around the time of Rich’s birthday. Green Day, as you probably well know, are good fun blokes and raised many a moshing smile that night, dragging Rich on-stage for a rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ amongst other mad moments.
I got to meet and talk to Larry Livermore which was way cool and everyone there was smiling and talking to each other and having fun. There was a sense of achievement and a spirit of one-ness (Rob thinks he’s got the monopoly on taking hippy shit!). Fuck, you know what I mean, don’t you?
Anyway, I got that feeling again last week, while seeing Thirst/The Harries/Rhythm Collision. I was stuck most of the night behind the record stall but it gave me a great vantage point to look and watch everyone and get a good feel of the atmosphere. It was good to see many happy faces and excellent to see new ones (and Rocket From The Crypt t-shirts!) and girls too seem to be coming forward more and more into the gigs, which is great. Gigs can still seem intimidating sometimes.
Thirst played a good set, getting better all the time and always getting a reaction one way or another from the crowd! Both The Harries and Rhythm Collision play music that’s not really to my taste (I don’t like Green Day much either) but it’s got that foot-tapping happy tone to it, that makes you feel good inside.
Many people hung around afterwards and chatted to the bands and with friends and as I was talking to Rhythm Collision’s guitarist, it suddenly struck me that what’s going on here is bigger than all of us (though made up by us).
There I was talking to a complete stranger about my forthcoming trip to Oz and finding out we both have a mutual friend there. I’ve heard it said that hardcore is the second biggest underground organisation in the world (next to the Mafia!). Who knows if that’s true but it seemed cool to me that I have friends all around the world, who I’ve never spoken to, written to or even met yet. The main thing that draws us together being music (and sometimes politics).
The second gig – Thirst/Zimmer Frames/Bedlam Hour – proved even more so, the trust and respect that us punks give and take from each other. Bedlam Hour toured without any equipment (relying on being able to use other bands’ when they got to the gig) and organised their whole European tour themselves from names and addresses in ‘Book Your Own Fuckin’ Life’ magazine.
Here they were in Southampton, thousands of miles from home, welcomed into our friendly atmosphere. They were the most friendly, admirable people you could ever wish to meet.
The one thing that got the crowd going being a magnificent rendition of Minor Threat’s ‘In My Eyes’ sung by Queer Rob. From then on, everyone was convinced. I saw guys at the bar looking on, thinking ‘Who the hell is this band?’, who were now jumping up and down and sideways, with their pals.
Girls not sure about the huge bulldozer bass player with udders were now laughing along at the absurd fun everyone was having.
Note should be made of Queer Rob’s Art Deco dancing (too much Big Breakfast methinks!) to Thirst and The Zimmer Frames great sets.
These gigs were certainly events to be proud of and now let’s look forward to the next gig and all those to come in the future. Sharing our music, our friendship, proud in the knowledge we are part of something bigger and that we are making a difference.
Shorthaired Johnny was being as obnoxious as ever, talking dicks and innuendo, Mr Entendre. Stomping around in bovver boots and his white T-shirt freshly laundered tucked into his jeans, new tattoos still scabby and iridescent. His big grin splits his head in half like the smiley planet from Moonshadow, and always attached to one hand or the other a can of lager (sometimes substituted for Guinness, sometimes tequila).
His eyes wide in a mad amphetamine haze, brain desperately taking in information like a wide angle lens but concentration is still good, unlike wife Selena whose strange tangents I cant keep up with, and mouth in fast forward, all else too drunk to get their words in edgeways, so while pondering her last statement she’s off again on the next story (which, we all laugh, all start ‘one time, when I was drunk’). She’s in black I think, hair wild, rocky horror and while we slam tequila she fills her glass with it and pours in some wine for good measure and sips slowly between stories, my guess that one drink lasting all night.
Her friend Lisa, the spitting image, drunkenly believes everything she’s being told and confused sitting out the side for awhile. We’re round the dining room table within reach of the fridge for more beers, and the kitchen is right there too for food and coffees, Rich, sober Rich, sipping caffeine at the start of his straightedge kick, despite his sobriety he’s laughing and playing too, laughing at himself as he says ‘well at least you guys have got an excuse (for acting like we are) you’re drunk!’ This straight edge suits him but somehow seems out of place amongst this rabble of drunkenness.
Broni, sober till midnight, is ever smiling and laughing at the merriment, she sits next to Selena, so like the rest of us Selena is talking to, we don’t get words in. I sit there too with Broni, hardly saying anything, stoned as we are and getting immediately drunk with these slammers and beers now strewn across the table.
At the other end sit three guys out of the band that played in town that night, willing and capable comrades in this action. I know not their names but let me describe instead.
One is blonde and rough, hair stuck straight up in air, black denim dressed, drunk and with a broad Scottish accent, I have no idea what he’s saying but it’s fun watching him stumble round the room, confusing Lisa, but I see later they are talking more properly.
Another Scottish fellow has short cropped hair, an altogether more sensible looking man in jeans and T-shirt (probably), except that here we double-take, he lowers his head shaved into the crop is a question mark, which explains is great if anyone asks you a question you’re not sure how to answer, just lowering skull for the quizzer to make their own mind up, these amused our drunken minds immensely.
Last is an American guy who reminds me of American guys, only in looks not in actions, I talk with him some but now it’s gone to hangover land.
Finally Rob is flitting around the table making conversations with anyone and everyone, he sits and listens patiently and then talks directly back with earnest, occasionally lifting his finger to gently push his glasses back at the bridge of his nose, sliding down as they would in the heat of this madhouse. Rob has to be commended as we find out in the morning he was up talking with Selena, who is totally faced and he’s drunk at the start and sober by the end, he goes to sleep about 15 minutes before we wake him up again, willingly making us coffees.
And some tunes blasting out through all the madness, in the other room (into the hall and there) John is shouting out with his loudest three in the morning voice ‘kept in line with truncheons, rifle butts and truncheons, this is state control, this is state control’, no one else deigning to join in, but back in the kitchen we raise ourselves out to chair stupor to jive to the sounds of the Rocket from the Crypt, those guys know how to drink therefore they know how to make music for drunkers.
And it’s here and then, in this wreckage, I realise what great friends I have around me, from my beautiful sweetheart, gentle soul-searching Rob, sober Rich, whether you’re in trouble or just in need of a beer. My loss, and Broni’s too, will be great when we have to say goodbye to them as we leave for sunnier climes, but you can guess that on that last night is going to be one hell of a party!
5th Jan 2024 – Words from Rich Levine as I have little memory of this now and it seems I didn’t write anything at the time either:
“This was an emotional night. Steve’s memorial gig (there was also another remembrance gig around the same time at our old school Alderman Quilley in Eastleigh) saw his old band THIRST! continue with Philip Beevers from CHICKEN-BONE CHOKED joining. If we didn’t love the SHUTDOWN guys (Neil Cox, Christian Burton) already then them coming from Worcs to play this benefit gig for pretty much nothing cemented that feeling. FLAMING KATIE (Russell Pataki) played too & it was a night of both tears but also togetherness in friendship when this very close-knit scene came out to show their love and commemorate. Prior to his passing, Steve had planned to put out a poetry zine. In the aftermath, Rob & Shaun put this out as a tribute to Steve under the name ‘40,000 Reasons For Living’ (the title came from a line in the R.E.M. song ‘Texarkana’ which was played at Steve’s funeral) & the cover of the zine used the burning house photo that was on the sleeve of fIREHOSE’s ‘Ragin’ Full On’ LP. The same photo was used as the backdrop for this gig flyer.”
27th Dec 2023 – Again, little memory of this show though I do remember enjoying Useful Idiot and commenting to one of them that I could feel a slight Beefheart vibe in their tunes. Here’s some words from Rich Levine:
“This date was originally booked for the return of Bristol’s NESSUN DORMA but unfortunately they messed up & turned up a month early on 26 January! Luckily we managed to get them on the bill of the indie band that was playing The Joiners that night & sorted them out somewhere to crash too I believe! So we had the Exeter double bill of WORDBUG (Martin Edmunds) & USEFUL IDIOT (Paul Symes) & another support from HAYWIRE. This was actually WORDBUG’s first gig for us, though they had played The Joiners previously. It was USEFUL IDIOT’s 2nd gig for us. The flyer backdrop was from the SIDESHOW (Nebraska ‘Revolution Summer’ style stuff) 1st LP cover.”
Coarse and guttural one-syllable Anglo-Saxon with Mr Cynical
Hello again, bet you’re glad to hear from me again.
Time moves on, things change, people change. Not me, no way. I see all those so-called punk rockers wearing nice new clothes and brand new shoes and, get this, with their shirts tucked in!
I had the misfortune to actually converse with one of these working-class pretenders (baseball cap on backwards!). You know what he had planned? He was going to punk out at a local show, with so-called punk bands playing. No doubt going on to a bar later and dance to rave or somesuch! What are these people coming to? Let me tell you – it’s not punk rock is it?
You’ll never catch me in one of those places, even if Beki Bondage was naked in there. Punk rock is about rebellion and rejecting all those normal things. What do they think they’re going to change with their positive attitudes and smiling faces? Sod all – that’s what!
All those straights can’t be changed – they’re assholes and always will be – this isn’t opinion, it’s truth and I should know….
Shaun’s Shorts
Mr Cynical, miserable old git, eh?
There’s been a lot of talk in the bulletins recently, about friends, especially since one of our greatest friends, Steve Burgess, passed away. I too have been thinking about friends.
Friends, by nature, are friendly. They reassure you and respect you. They can also point out your faults without holding a grudge, or without putting you down so that you still feel good about yourself. They don’t hold you responsible for their own problems and they are willing to accept change.
Steve Burgess was sometimes disheartened by the punk scene, due to its lack of acceptance of change or new ideas, i.e. closed-mindedness.
What do us old-time punks do? The ones who were there years ago?
Do we disassociate ourselves from what is happening now and reminisce about the glory days, or do we put in our efforts and make those glory days again (and again)?
I think those wishing for the old days are closed-minded and unable to accept change. I also think that is their right but what I’m afraid of is the poison that can be spread. It is easy to criticise our scene – it is easy to criticise anything. It is also hard to ignore unconstructive criticism. Doubts start to nag, “Is it worth it? Why do we bother?”
Let’s reject those ideas – they are not for our scene.
One of Steve’s favourite sayings was “It’s all punk rock, innit?” meaning that whatever we did, whatever we do – it’s still punk rock. We are not trapped by the term but released from it.
How do you react to the loss of a friend? On the evening of December 28th, I got a phone call, it was Rob. Of course, as I recognised his voice, I gave him a cheery “Hello” + expected to be told when our next practice was. As if reading my thoughts, his next words were “We won’t be practising for a few weeks”, there was a pause before the hammer blow “Steve’s dead”. I was stunned, I just couldn’t believe it. Rob was understandably, in a bit of a state + after giving me all the details he had, he rang off. I just sat there in a daze, there were no tears, no overwhelming sense of grief, nothing, except that I couldn’t get Steve out of my thoughts. For the next few days, I would suddenly find that I had been sitting just staring into space thinking of Chrissy, Amanda + Rebecca, the band + then back to Steve again. It was like I was numb. I still couldn’t accept that I wouldn’t be seeing him again.
I had known Steve for years but not all that well. I’d see him at gigs, we might say “Hi” to each other but that was it. Then we started THIRST together (with Shaun + Shane) + as the band progressed + we got to know each other better, I’m pleased to say we became quite good friends. He would often say that, above all else, the band were all good friends + that’s what kept us together when we’d have bad practices + couldn’t find a compromise. We stuck at it + things got: better + because we all got on so well, being in THIRST became cool.
Our first: demo may not be perfect but the time we spent recording + mixing it was fun, we were having a good time + achieving something with our band, it’s a happy memory I will keep forever. Like me, he was a football nut + we were talking about playing for the same team, something 1 was really looking forward to.
Steve was really into THIRST, so Jon, Rob + I have decided to keep the band going, keeping the name + recruiting someone who knew Steve + who Steve liked. Rob will move over to guitar + we have Phil of CHICKEN-BONE CHOKED, coming in to play bass. I’m not sure how permanent this will be as obviously Phil has his priorities with CBC but we hope to record a single as a tribute to Steve, featuring a couple of tracks he played on, plus some new stuff.
So, how did I react? Just shock I suppose, I still find it hard to come to terms with, it’s just so sad to lose someone you liked + respected. Writing this, along with reading the obituaries, was the hardest thing I’ve had to do since he died, it’s kind of brought it all home to me but (as l write) the funeral is still to come + that will be worse.
Now our thoughts must be with Chrissy + the kids + in that we will always remember Steve. He was one of the nicest. people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I may not have known him well for as long as a lot of others but I value the time we spent as friends. Steve, I will never forget you.
Whenever I think about poetry, or friendship, I will think of things and many people I’ve met + Steve Burgess will always be amongst the first.
I want to write about friendship, about what I want friendship to be like with everyone who knows me now + everyone who may get to know me in the future. This is not just some throwaway waffle, which just says I’m revelling in my own insecure little daydream, ‘cos this column is based on a friendship given by Steve Burgess.
All the words here mean something to me + maybe you’ll agree with them but that doesn’t really matter; for what really matters (+ what I’ve found out to be so important, that it makes my eyes well with tears every time I think about it) is friendship. Friendship between people that actually means something real. You know, something which is alive, that makes us all feel that we can contribute something of value in our lives for free, to someone else, to help them realise that they’re great + that we’re inspired by them.
So, how the hell does this all get to be? I can only tell you of what I know + how I got to know Steve + just hope you might get something from it, ‘cos I’m writing this from the experience from my life and especially the experiences I’ve had over the last 16 months when I first got to know Steve really well (although I had known him for years just to say hello to through music).
First, let’s say something about friendship. Friendship, I feel starts with sharing a thought + talking things through + getting to know where other people are coming from + laughing, because of stupid things that we’ve been through together + being accepted – not because of what you wear, or of what you look like but because of who you are underneath your skin + what your dreams strive for. With these in place, in the end, you’ll respect someone for exactly the right reasons I would want somebody to respect me. I respected Steve for these reasons.
There’s just so many people in this scene (+ outside of the ‘scene’ for that matter), whom I only half know, maybe just to say “Hi” to at a distance + I just wish I could know them better. Like I got to know Steve. For I thought I would never start writing about my own personal circumstances, or about individual people because I want to write about subjects that people can think about. + about things that inspire me. Then Steve, who was one of the most sincere + inspirational people I knew, who always went out of his way to help you out, who I used to play in a band with, who never used to hesitate to talk about what he really felt inside + who we all loved, died of a heart attack at the tragic age of 24.
What I’ve written about is friendship + about getting to know people + about giving each other strength, which Steve gave to me in more ways than he will ever know + I hope + trust I in turn, gave back to him. There’s so much more which I want to say, about what friendship could be + what Steve gave but I’m running out of space, so I’ll just finish by saying I want to dedicate this whole collection of words, paragraphs + thoughts, to the memory of Stephen Burgess, my good good friend.
After thought: – Bronwyn said about when she, Shaun, Rich + I went around to Steve + Chrissy’s place, everyone seemed so open + you just talked about how you felt to each other. I can’t think of how I could have said that myself but I’m sure Steve would have been proud of such a description of his friendship
1994ever 