Dishpig, Bifter, Kay Ronenbourg, Glen Morangie, several other Glens when the mood takes, Motorised Electronic Computation Device.
Influences
Chris Morris, Cassette Boy, Robochrist, Osymyso, Salvador Dali, Monty Python, Rolf Harris, Terry Gilliam, The Beta Band, Madness, The Specials, Vanuatu, Prince Buster, Jamaican Ska in general, Beebop, Rock and Roll, Forties Jazz and swing, Early 78s, Music Hall, Dub, Psychedelic Rock, pretty much fucking well anything, Roxy Music, AC/DC, The Who, Frank Sidebottom, The Jesus & Mary Chain, Ivor Cutler, Anal Blast, The Beatles, Motorhead, The Stones, Arlo Guthrie, Half Man Half Biscuit, The Stone Roses, Vitalic, The Real Tuesday Weld, early Pink Floyd, Syd Barret, John Shuttleworth, Hawkwind, Black Sabbath, The Happy Mondays, Orbital, The Orb, Ladytron, Jim Noir, Misty's Big Adventure, Les Dawson, Belgium, Acid House, Trance, Happy Hardcore, Drum & Bass, Breaks, Techno, Listen With Sarah, Rap, Dancehall, Gabba, George Formby, Clinic, The Fall, Country Joe & The Fish, Gabba, ELO, The Quo, Queen, The Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band...can't be arsed to go on. Just about anything as long as it tickles my lug 'oils. It's easier to say what I don't like:-R&B...fucking hate R&B (apart, of course, from Massive R&B, which I does love!), and Celine Dion. And Mariah Carey. Fuck Off. not much classical. Kiddy Pop. Shite. But other than that, anything's fair game.
Legend has it that Dishpig was born of humble origins, to a breeding pair of psychologically bruised foxes. They are thought to have inhabited a tastefully converted hen barn, set amidst romantic looking heaps of knock off laminate flooring and a scattering of iron filings, sometime in the centre of the century before last.
Dishpig first came to prominence at a local primary school. Here, he revealed a hitherto unappreciated talent for cabbage hurling, winning numerous brassica based gymkana at both local and national level. Throughout a career spanning 6 decades, international success was, alas, to elude him; a failure that still bites at his shins to this day.
At one and the same time, it is thought that he was an occasional body double for one Arthur Scargill, leader of a popular miner's union some 100 years into the future. Though neither man acknowledges nor denies it, scratchy images from a well maintained though slightly dented camera obscura seem to tell a basic and somewhat maudlin truth. It is also known that he frequently refers to himself in the third person, and that he has sudden urges to unctuousness. Little more is known at the current time.
Who is this interstatial man of mystery? Interviewed beneath a local newsagents, he would only fart, wink and doff his titfer in a mildly contemptuous manner. Questions were asked, the truth was NOT revealed.
Who cares anyway? For as long as oats and beans and barley grow, we'll never be short of a listless hedgehog.
Here's to it!
Hector W. Ptarmigan III.
Self Publicist.
Porton Down. Wilts.
Mr. Dishpig, Your package arrived today. Please forgive the fact that I have not as yet reciprocated, obviously I am a useless tool. Nevertheless, I hereby vow to send you a collection of goodies and make amends for my negligence. Until then I hope this enchanted image will help keep the dream alive.
One million thank yous, I am exploring your mix as these words are being typed.
UPDATE: Mr reaks gig is IS in ripon, 3pm to 5pm, then he dashes off at some point to Wendlebury. I'm for meeting up pre-gig for a bit, going along and heckling and then i don't care too much as long as I can return, in one piece and without arrest, to my swanky £30 bedroom in H'Gate. Is this a goer? Or is the alternative being picked on by an oversize leaopard in Aylesbury. Your thoughts please. i have little time to plan alas. I am in Glasgow mid week then back to colder climbs for a day or so then whizzing by chariot to Cumbria for companionship and bed rest before tripping across the Pennines on the Sunday in question. On monday, very very early, I venture even further South, possibly into the great unknown. Livingston is dead but I presume will have left me his Stanley knife!
the cock-up is mine. I shall be wending my way on Sunday 28th and overnighting it in Harrogate. Name your time and place and I will arrive. Reaks is gigging, two times that day, once in the afternoon long after the cock crows and the other, an evening job in Wendlebury. I do not fancy Wendlebury. If it were to suit you better I could make Ripon any time PM be it 1pm or late into the night time. Only draw back is total sobriety would be required on my part owing to fear of the local constabulary's traffic department. Meantime, I will enquire further of Reaks, his afternoon session may actually be in Ripon. The devolved powers of lucidity sit unwashed on the banks of time, fearing as they do, the liquidity of the members of the Turnpike Trust. I reach the buttons on the lift by standing on a block of ice and wait for global warming to to me a rare favour. It's cold outside and medical experiments are about to commence. Apologies for my vagueness. But I will be there on 28th, hoping to see you then.
Sunday 28th would be most agreeable. I shall to my slumbers late that night in H'gate having availed myself from mid day for communion with thee, me and said Mr Reaks and the Lady R. And the swelling Lady of course should swelling permit or just be 'of a mind.' Shall we arrange it so?
Unrelated, thus far, rumblings abound deep underground in central Europe. The wheelchaired one may culminate in a big bang, his gang having long since deserted the cause. I leant him wellies and a Helli Hanson bib but he just dribbled and pretended to be a cyberman. The baloon, one day, will go up. Should beardy Branson be in it then hopefully it won't come back down.
Hi dishpig. I let Ashley know your idea for a possible hi ho in harrogate and will keep you posted. Sunday 22nd is the day and night I'll be down. Could make it the Saturday instead but at a push. How would you be placed? I could bring vine weavles and protective clothing if that would assist. Please advise. Elvis is staill dead.
Hello there Dishpig! How are you? Lovely tunes really close to some old NDW I really love..Beautiful.. Hope to listen more of you at the path of time ahead..!
dog brains? really. I'd like to nibble on a sea horse though. With John Tyrode looking adoringly up at me. He'd be on his knees of course, begging for clemancy and points. Greg would be well dead by then.
As for dates, well I work Saturday nd Monday and Wed here in Leeds, but thats up till end of June, then I hit Glasto/Europe, back mid to late July, which is when I wontbe in Leeds anymore, so anytime then dude man. Until then, pre europe, any odd shifts here and there you might fancy off let me know or if anyone is wanting hols, do get in touch and should be able to get it off in Leeds im sure. Hope all is swell, though.. keeping it tordafide x
College is almost done, week on Tuesday is the deadline. And then, well, as of right now I have no concrete plans until ideally September 2009.
Yup, one more 'gap year' is on the cards. Not even on the cards, garenteed (sp?!) I've come to realise that my university choices were quite 'lax, to say the least, with the best option being High Wycomb (gret course, poor city) so, long term and short term, I thought it best I re-apply and in mean time earn cashe/do a couple trips here and there/gain work experiance in design companies/get invovled in the whole art and design world/set up online portfolio/learn to play the guitar etc etc. So, dude man, any work would be very much appriciated. =]
Keep it away from microwave radiation based, please Teejster x
You take your a group of people who you don't really like to a Carvery for Sunday lunch. On arrival the waiter offers you each an enormous joint rolled by Bob Marley who is sat lifeless at table seven. Further, the waiter tells you that the soup of the day 'is a fluid' and gives it no further description but smiles a toothless smile and begins humming the tune to Night Boat To Cairo. You are almost certain the soup is actually nothing more than water in which a heron is bathing. Do you say to your companions "It's lovely here isn't it?" or do you say something else.
