Need a gift for a gifted musician?
When Ike and Leroy, Dogliani brothers split with the garage rock group Baghdad scraps after the summer reign that mobbed Camden of its self conscious nose picking with a series of 15 gigs over the a two month period, a risky manuver that only the most reckless & niave kids are capable of, it was during a personal space invading rock out at Camdens notorious monarch that the boys from Baghdad hit it up in the window, writing phallicies in tongue and breath at street spectators…an angst fuelled ike strutted about like a manic show girl, drawing a crowd for all the wrong reasons with a revealing rip in his hot pant crotch and sporting a nippleless yellow wife beater… exposing pink teats and bared teeth to the entire high street. Ike had an apefany that that maybe it was time to get a real band and some music worth listening to.
In the months that followed the brothers scouted high and low for a guitarist capable of making people dance, laugh and cry. Word had it that Brighton was home to a dangerous dude and on the night of guy fawkes, our young hungry bass player scouted down to the south coast where a Mr Stephan palmer awaited Ike with a busted water mains and flooded candle lit bedsit. An array of musical instruments included a les Paul and a sitar showed that this cat meant buisness. The night was unrevealing and heavily sedated. The following day expressed itself with a bottle of lefie and a note on the door suggesting that the nights jam session was not as Cosmicly radical as had been intended…: “There are children sleeping here! He used to be such a nice boy… he used to cut the grass…” it wouldn’t have been such a problem if the drumming hadn’t been so shite!! Heres a bottle of booze for the guitarist, now turn the Fucking music down! thankyou xxx”
Palmer was more than the boys had bargained for; a wild child lone wolf sporting an 80’s distaster for a hair cut and an abilty to call on mystical spirits with his excessive use of the Whammy bar.
stay tuned for Mother's Love!