Pablo Neruda, Patty Hearst, Jean Genet, Huckleberry Finn, our dear Mother, Andreas Baader, Ulrike Meinhof, Cagliostro, Henry Miller, Anais Nin, Casanova, Howard Hughes, the Comte de Saint-Germain, Madame Blavatsky, Mae West, Voltaire, Gurdjieff, Robin Hood, Jesse James, Dick Turpin, Leopold von Sacher-Masoch, Calico Jack Rackham, Anne Bonney, Mary Read, Neal Cassidy, the Artful Dodger, William Burroughs, d'Artagnan, Beau Brummell, the Hooded Claw, Oliver Reed, Timothy Leary, Fusako Shigenobu, Napoleon Bonaparte, Admiral Nelson, the Marquis de Sade, Jack the Ripper.
"Guaranteed to entertain" - London Lite
"A unique mix of indie-rock, heavily influenced by a decadent London lifestyle via a trip through gypsy land" - Camden New Journal
"One of London's most thrilling live bands" – BaseAd
"With individual musical influences as disparate as their wardrobes, they are a motley crew who boast a raw energy in their music, which is as indefinable as it is inimitable" - My London Your London
"These boys play unadulterated rock and roll and have the energy, passion, talent and attitude to make Johnny Borrell eat his own shoes" - Rockbeatstone
The Furies have now finally imploded, in a blinding flash of light, and no longer exist, except in our memories. Thankyou to everyone who was kind to them. They are dead. This myspace page will remain as a timeless memorial to their occasional moments of brilliance...
Born in the wagon of a travelling show, the Furies were raised as orphans by the silent nuns of Hackney. Escaping the clutches of the cruel nuns at a tender age, our four friends began their travels around the world, stowing away on steam ships, living up trees and in rubbish bins and suchlike. A bit like Huckleberry Finn, or something.
Times were hard, until they were miraculously taken in by a kindly and extremely well connected old spinster, a millionaire duchess dowager of ancient and aristocratic line, who took pity after watching them dance jigs for stale croissants on the backstreets of Marseille. A period of decadence followed, a wild, hedonistic, technicolour blur of champagne, limousines, crystal chandeliers and Louis Quatorze four-poster beds, chateaux, yachts, debutantes' virginities, Saville Row suits, opium, absinthe, dancing girls, dreams... We would divide our year between New York, Paris, London and Monte Carlo, skipping through the moonlit streets in our top hats and tails, seducing heiresses and jeering at the proles. It was a right laugh, but the dirty fingers of tragedy were never far away. After the sudden death of our wealthy protectress (whom we still fondly think of as our own dearest Mother) in a tragic motor racing accident, our luck soon began to turn.
Below you can see us as we are today, at our new home in Shoreditch Churchyard. Pictured with us are our eccentric uncles, Bonzo and Doug, who threw away the last of the family fortune on the gaming tables of Shanghai. Bastards. Rags to riches to riches to rags, scabies, methadone, special brew, fleas... Rock and Roll is our only salvation now ladies and gentlemen, so please give kindly, and spare a thought for the Furies as you sit in your nice clean houses, safe and warm. But doubt ye not, we will rise again, like Orpheus crawling from the Underworld, Like Lazarus back from the dead, and our pockets will be deep and our reach will be long, and our largesse will be legendary, so till then can you lend us a tenner? Cheers. xxx
ciao eli, un salutino da piggì dove finalmente sembra essere iniziata la vera primavera :) solo una domanda: ma che fine ha fatto la foto di copertina del vostro space??? è scomparsa solo a me? ciao un bacio
oh my goooooood!!! ho letto solo ora il fatto dei "The Furies are dead" non ci posso credere... che diavolo è successo??? why??? what's happend??? tell me that it's just a joke!
i feel such of empty now. what happened!? ... well, eli, gimme some news please... è il minimo! e fammi avere un tuo indirizzo e-mail.. e cribbio... ti ho trovato per culo e che faccio, vuoi che non mi interessi alla tua salute di tanto in tanto?!
I wonder if you could send to a poor french girl some lyrics? Especially Clean Living and Pure Thoughts? Cause I'm complitly addict to that fucking good song. And I miss some words...
A fat arse Happy Birthday to the artist formaly known as 'Suroj: Guitarist to the Furies'. The band might be dead... but you aint even middle aged baby! Now thats worth a drink! xxx
I can't believe what I've just red! Tell me you're joking!! Don't tell me I won't be able to see The Furies performing live??? I'm so desappointed... At least I hope you're all fine, and I wish you good luck for the futur!! Love ya guys! xxx
ciao eli... tutto bene è da un pò che non passavo e ho deciso di farti un saluto. a pasqua sono stata in quel di riva ma devo dire che il divertimento ha lasciato a desiderare... è diventata un oasi di pace per vecchietti... cos'è successo... oppure è sempre stato così e non me ne sono accorta aiutooooooo.
You must be really desperate for friends if you add me...
You have to make a statement in this world- go for gold! What are you marketing about yourself that is different to everybody else. How would you like the world to remember you???
And I will be very surprised if you take the time to answer me!
ey hey you just passed your space again and im still loving the money song so much hope you had a nice eastern and lots of choclate and buz stay cool and i hope to enjoy an other show of yours soon X
