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First there was Skydrive, the only band from Oxford ever to use the line 'touch my willy' in the middle eight of one of their songs. Skydrive ploughed a lonely furrow in the Oxford music scene of the early 90s with their skewed take on American-hardcore-influenced punk/rock. In fact, so skewed was their take that years later it became apparent that Nigel (twiddly guitarist) had based a guitar riff from one of their unreleased songs almost wholesale on a tune by seminal 70s funk/soul act The Meters. Not an act widely associated with hardcore.
Several years of gigging together and sporadic recording followed, the highlights being a month-long tour of Europe focusing mainly on the squats and bars of former East Germany, an appearance on now-legendary compilation 'OXCD'and a self-released four-track single. The tour was a harem-scarem 28 days of excess and camaraderie, with hospitality that the band could only dream of when gigging back at home. They were fed, watered, accomodated and offered plentiful supplies of pretty much anything you could care to mention. They even got paid. In money. At one stage they received a welcoming gift from the kindly residents of Zurich in the form of a brick through the windscreen of their vintage early 80's Transit van while they slept in a nearby squat. However, to come back in profit from a month playing music and having the time of their lives would probably have been too much to ask.
So intense were the bonds formed by a month away in a smelly old van that Skydrive split up shortly after their return to the U.K. The aforementioned Nige decided to go his own way, as did drummer Rich, leaving Stef (vocals), Griz (bass) and Tim (less twiddly guitarist) in a quandary. They'd decided that being in a band was a right laugh, and having not killed each other after a month away together decided that actually maybe they should carry on making an unholy racket despite the departure of two key members. They could manage with one guitar, so long as they turned it up a bit, but they were short of a drummer. Then as if by magic Toby appeared, wielding a set of unfeasibly small looking drum cases (he's about 6' 6'') and after just one practice playing through old Skydrive songs (which Toby seemed to know better than the other three who had actually been in the band) the new line-up was cemented.
After recording their first demo and playing their first few fledging gigs Callous were honoured to be asked by the good people at Lockjaw Records (home of noisy young pups Tribute to Nothing: presumably still noisy now, but not so young) to contribute to a compilation CD entitled 'Helping You Back to Work'. This CD was notable for the first general release of a little-known band called Muse. As a result, this CD now changes hands for upwards of £50, presumably because of the Muse track rather than our own or Vest's. We've got a few copies stashed away that we might be prepared to part with for the right money...
After this, Callous settled into a steady pattern of regular gigs in Oxford and the Home Counties, but sadly there was no be no repeat of Skydrive's exploits in mainland Europe as their promoter (Stef's cousin's boyfriend) had by now moved onto bigger and well-deserved better things. Occasional covers nights like the now-legendary 'Your Song' provided an entertaining diversion for band and audience alike, as the band took on and beat into submission such unlikely targets as 'Three Lions', 'Rockafeller Skank' and 'Swords of a Thousand Men'.
Although Callous's songwriting had definitely developed from the Skydrive era, and the band would probably feel that the songs they wrote were among the most interesting and powerful they'd created, the pressure to create on a regular basis eventually told, along with the usual and very dull 'musical differences'. Callous called it a day in 2000 following a triumphant final appearance at Truck Festival.
And that was that. Until one drunken evening in late 2006 when while on a night out taking in a Swiss Concrete gig at Oxford's Port Mahon Tim (egged on by drunken nutcase 'Cheeky' Ben Miller) suggested to Griz that maybe they should have a go at doing another gig somewhere, and that those kindly Swiss Concrete fellows might oblige with an offer. Griz was up for it. He'd had a few drinks, mind. Half expecting Stef (now resident in Malvern) or Toby (about to become a father) to say 'naah, done with that', e-mails were exchanged. This in itself was remarkable as the last time any band arranging had to be done, e-mail barely existed. And more remarkable still, they all said yes. Fuelled by this success former Skydrive guitarist Nigel was contacted to see if he'd fancy guesting on a couple of songs. Despite hardly having played at all since Skydrive split ten years ago, he also was up for it.
Practices commenced in November 2006, after a happy reunion upstairs at the Duke public house in St Clements to remember what everyone looked like. Griz, Toby and Tim initially dusted off their amps, drums and guitars at Soundworks in Blackbird Leys, marvelling at the weirdness of it all and attempting to remember what their hands and fingers were for. Amazingly to all concerned, they remembered pretty quickly, but not quite quickly enough to make any significant progress before Toby had to disappear for a couple of months to get used to the idea of having a baby daughter. Aaaah! However, undetered, Griz and Tim carried on regardless, without drums or vocals to assist them. Somehow this stripped down line-up made significant progress on relearning the basics of the Callous set, and the twosome enjoyed many happy hours of head-scratching, bum notes and general confusion, writing stuff down in a primitive and unique form of musical notation as an aide memoire and continuing to marvel at the weirdness of it all.
Thankfully, Toby returned in early 2007, and things really got going. Songs fell back into place remarkably quickly, and after a few months things started to sound vaguely similar to how they were all those years ago. Nigel also re-entered the fold for Skydrive songs 'Ulcer' and 'Virus' (they never got round to writing 'Hernia', the final part of the trilogy). His achievement was even more remarkable than the others': having barely picked up a guitar for over 10 years after the split of Callous' predecessor he fell back into it like he'd never stopped. Practices became as regular as possible given the various responsibilities acquired since the last gig: Stef overcame the difficulties of living over 100 miles away by practicing his vocal lines in his van while driving to work, and turned up to his first practice a bit rusty on the first run-through, but pretty much spot on on the second. As Motty would have it, quite remarkable.
To be continued...
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