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P Williams
Experimental / Electronica / Glam

		Northampton, Midlands United Kingdom Profile Views: 7117 Last Login: 11/13/2008
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http://www.myspace.com/wattspilgrimm

P Williams: General Info

Member Since	3/2/2006
Band Website	hinterhoff.com
Band Members	Sister Rotunda: Tim Harries, Ben Castle, Martin France, Leo Abrahams, Paul Williams & others...
Influences	Steven Jesse Bernstein, Stevo Mathewson, Steve Westfield, Chris Derrico, Anthony Braxton, Derek Bailey, Mary Halvorson, US Maple, Bobby Conn, Weasle Walter, TeEr, James David Hasler, DJ Edel, Laeton Ward, Stau, Rudi Sass, Spaten, Uncle Smukal, Johnny King, Curtis E Johnson, Tim Harries, Michael Holloway & Mrs Pilgrimm... and so many more
Sounds Like	eimer music
Record Label	Hinterhoff Records

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sophie williams

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Front Porch Productions

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Elk Force

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P Williams's Friends Comments

Displaying 45 of 45 comments ( View All | Add Comment )

I LOVE SARAH	Nov 10 2008 5:11 PM hey paul thanks for befriending us! we're releasing a new vinyl beginning of february and are doing a uk tour from 20 to 28 february... interested? hope all is good in northampton! bye bye jeroen
Oxford Improvisers	Nov 9 2008 2:32 PM
the black eg	Sep 11 2008 11:22 PM We can doing this. Friends of internets.
Rüdiger Saß	Aug 27 2008 6:48 AM I am just a tune in a loo - and I do not ask why
eloui	Jul 12 2008 9:18 AM ....we rocked the rocks in Sitzerland... Vienna rocks, too. Hope to see you sometime soon. *eloui + Thomas
theunert	Jun 12 2008 8:25 PM it was great! many ideas...let's do the show. miss your wine,...bring you some next time from here!
Rüdiger Saß	Jun 2 2008 2:50 PM Well, I had a real bad shit today. (Goethe)
eloui	Jun 1 2008 9:19 AM ...oh, we'd love to come and play there, that would be superb! And don't forget: Vienna waits for you. *eloui
Rüdiger Saß	May 31 2008 4:01 PM La Baumwolle est morte - vive le Schwefeläther (Shakespeare)
eloui	May 29 2008 5:33 AM Thanks for the nice concert in Vienna, it was beautiful. Hope to see you soon. *eloui
	May 3 2008 6:08 PM Are we doing a gig then?
Sue Marchant	Apr 16 2008 9:24 AM Good to meet you! Sue x
Charlie Beresford	Mar 31 2008 5:39 PM Sonic mess finished...... Patter of tiny feet yet?...How screetches the four wheels?
Charlie Beresford	Feb 1 2008 12:04 PM Rear wheel splender evoked only by the towelled larynx.........???????
Charlie Beresford	Dec 20 2007 5:39 PM Joyeux Noel..... The Pilgrimm the household..... More japes in the New Year I hope....!!!!!!!
Charlie Beresford	Nov 14 2007 2:16 PM How did the sonic atom bomb fayre in Numpton's poissons palace??????
Ben Castle	Nov 14 2007 2:30 AM Extremely ashamed to say that the lure of the British dollar tore me away from your show last weekend. Hope it was spectacular x
Pat Fish	Nov 12 2007 8:11 PM Good to land here 'pon your sunny beach. Saturday night was absolutely superb. Congratulations!
Charlie Beresford	Nov 9 2007 6:41 PM B****r!!!!! I would love to be there, but I'm in Birmingham......... When's the next one due so we can hopefully synch it.....?
Charlie Beresford	Nov 9 2007 1:15 AM I see you burn the midnight also...... How did the night go at the Fish Marche.....?
The Institute of Ape Culture	Oct 25 2007 9:50 PM You are the bolts, I am the nuts.
The Institute of Ape Culture	Oct 12 2007 4:03 PM You are straight from the tar pit!
The Institute of Ape Culture	Oct 12 2007 2:26 PM Justice!
Charlie Beresford	Oct 8 2007 4:58 PM If only all business plans were that funny,.... how large is your leg????
Charlie Beresford	Sep 27 2007 11:23 AM I will be floating about Numpton at points this weekend due to the old BV.... Might see you!!!!
Skinny Fat Bloke	Sep 14 2007 6:04 PM A maglight plumed: Maggot wrestler hails folk wheeler dealers which cling and wurdle his Majesty at the pork solemn trot polka! After, Sausage courtship craves cockle baskets often crunching existential forcep mileage. Frisk bedraggles and horrifies the wind blender. Clocking the bun pessary, Monk holly pricked into ball chokings, frosts a cow nipple peg and seizes Trondheim. Waste crotch and daffodil moments, all creepy on worsted kneecap stitches. Hostile man wedge undertakes the turnstile hornets.
Skinny Fat Bloke	Sep 6 2007 9:36 AM -eels which sag always depth charge dependent. Targus longs for rope burnt colostomy magnets. I must thus instill a nugget easel upon his mothers crow murdered doilies on the morrow. Drug philistines may slip on seal knapsacks but it is my cankered slipknots hanging tortured from my motherhood that must the toasted hum kipper be and I reveal here fang plaque axe marks as currency. Hors Doofus, Pickelchin
Skinny Fat Bloke	Sep 6 2007 9:35 AM I lovingly encrust you had a Cummerbund summer? Ourselves like dragon welts drove creations of man silt into fag-ended impish pox-pourri. The horn diver fancied the bung shoals though and as it dribbled they clasped little nipper holster giblets as though they’d undertaken daring runt raidings on bus receipts. Baked and biscuited, such caustic long walks frankly crisped in the dying ember groins. Ham strung makeup and all of it’s conkers grew shiny as historical dice spots turned to maudlin cheese dip. Astrung was that a pink house marten twixt thine knacker back plastic though? In time’s envy the creosote wall-tops which seamlessly seem harangued by wetless ants lay pendulous over Chaucer rich armies and guitar picks. I thought, admixed and unclothed. O’course mung beans ching dem’der bells as Uncle Munter dips his dread on a weevil curse, just as that four point stove clustered amongst the Rasta caves. His clogs precipitate fine Edam and his semen can crust a backward lung faucet but was that Clunkers reply? Mung’s portentous aardvark seemed driven to bristles and battled with loganberry blues. I resolutely lanced -I was like a red-titted soliloquy after tent pegs! Fanny batter would of sprayed off such masticated troll fat and spurned the saddle bank, and you know, if it weren’t for haunted Nuns and clammer stags, houghty signet wailers, even as a rubber girl those wasps indeed could have tidied me down in thick hog mystery. It creaks of tortillas though. The wind snorts and the cockerel is over. You blag, you slot, and we hoover such crinkles, but all the while overlords chug and heap twisted hotels into sticklebacked fanmail. Oh, and Runstable, the badminton mangler, can warble as though grapefruit miners stake out joystick circus meat - Seems Sam Hangtoe hustled himself queasy like pork rind, but wattle and paprika versus Runstable’s slag fat and hostile corks can keep bogus sailors from the dolphin farm, and instant insults yield sluggishly moribund eel
Misterlee	Jul 30 2007 11:07 AM Looking forward very much to The First International Kinky Judge Fair - featuring: Thomas Truax, Misterlee, Denis Jones, Hellset Orchestra, Um, Kararno Flaymer, Mrs. Pilgrimm, Joey Chickenskin, DJ Shane Quentin and card magic from Dave Vegas; BBQ & specialist cider bar.. and, AND... it's FREE ADMISSION! SUNDAY AUGUST 5th at FIREBUG, Leicester, UK. Doors 1pm - bar 'til 1am!!! ACES!! Venue tel: (0116) 255 1228
Charlie Beresford	Jul 29 2007 10:31 AM Numpton, Tuesday, Dark hat and floppy glasses?
A Mountain in a Fishmarket	Jul 25 2007 11:40 PM Mr Pilgrimm, can I have yr missus play on my east side? As a courtesy I thought I'd ask...
Skinny Fat Bloke	Jun 1 2007 11:07 AM Slit apart and released my melon is. Flood juice drains away cross the hospice darkness snapping at heels dressed in lavendar bags. All around monsters snort bubbles and unsticky snot appears as electrical ozone windscreen wipeage shot across an aching liver. The Wink cordons off clumps and sods of heated ant shit undercut and doused with my side oil. Weak, staggered cloth mutton flays corrugated testical flesh but bears a gift to a snake: This leather like coat can be. Frisk remembers flossy interludes in broken moped muck, nose to the kickstand and salt cakes on the tounge. Christ's steak varnished crisscross in uneaten maggot sick as smoking birds crash Faustian lineage to see the bristly slit as cankerous white chocolate. Deep blue metal baking in heat lamps, this bumper drives in thick 'pon the rainmac-ed scarlet rat meat guarded by an endentured helipad two inches north of the Kidney Whale feeding grounds; slack marking causes the wound to sperm. Forgive the sloppy silence after Frisky but lips are turned down round here like fifty year old fossil fuel.
Del Rubio Triplets	May 17 2007 3:02 AM Put on your gogo boots, pull up your hot pants, & get ready to Whip It! ... real good! Thanks for the support! -xo-xo-xo- The Del Rubio Triplets
j. peter schwalm	Apr 30 2007 8:29 PM is this you, paul? the voice on one of the tracks? sounds good! hope to seeing you soon! best peter
Skinny Fat Bloke	Apr 26 2007 5:41 PM My darkest Sand Wink Personal effrontery is an under-dogged parsimony in a nut cutlet. Can you care enough to totter and to wince, grabbing the horns and crying while stripped in brigands? Albeit erudite you saunter without breakfast. Collars of turkey draped in subtefuge, you parcel the minions unloosened with droolage however backward interlaced in this faux heaven. Granary Graham can teach a crash stacker when crumbs'll do, though crisply. Brief slacks bunched from the offcuts and whilst bludgeoning corked muck bottles, us sisters bungle beyond the overwrought dragoned bags and whoosh. I cannot appear often to stiffen the coffin so caustic though my downfall be, here is a locksmith. In loose under cloth, gluing witteringly the pastel laggard canopy nodules, measel stalks engage couped up in Robitussin finery like a kingpin of pies and mustard. All about us steel vapour whispering upchunks prove horticulture ought oft be blackened stiff with hoes . Ninny no at 10-1. ! Collage? Look bristling and clock the flagging bear rimmer - Ring clinking cheese awaybetwixt the fruhstuck slab. Could thy beseech indelible Hungarian pancake welders when a sting illuminates the crass huddleberries from the huddle patch? I ink: Stonified bassoon monkeys in crusty string ankle pants sip kinked mixery and waft Uncle Ocelot's fassbinder off the heated mutton slabs - Trout backward, Bay seal bunkum! Stumped, allow us briskly to dust the drain scissorings. Washbags of Calgary? Perhaps the sponge wetted yolks darken your wasp petals.... Hereby standing, castanets Frisk
Skinny Fat Bloke	Apr 11 2007 9:57 PM Fresh blankets soulful Monk, jugeared past doleful Crisp Riminy rancour Hallowed chain trinket stick Toes up curly uppity quick Frisk's shimmy he doo'dar spank her Frosted up black Lucy's Zipcar Mustard mange thrusts hoola star Thunk the think, now backt up Forward nach dem krankenfish Motherf*cker deep dang dish Dust jacket, warm toes, crackt up (cain't get enny funkier, no sar)
Victor Scott	Apr 2 2007 4:42 AM thanks y'all. I've been enjoying your tunes on the myspace. and uh keeping with the tenor of the comments around this joint: whisper witches, thorny commonplace apples ripping tragic materials gently.
Skinny Fat Bloke	Apr 1 2007 6:23 PM Frisk the man boy drop kick tons of it. All over him and he don't care. Swamping out his toungue to a full crane of intimacy drives a memory deeper and the grass remains like a chink, rasping a leathery bodice across grooves not yet cut. Ice cream syrup punctuates any fact his thorny collegiate just don't get it and ain't never gonna. Still, so slient, a thoughtful Sand Wink, subdued as ever in wrinkled helmet, entombs the corn as a trump or deck hand must but then such sullied notions obviate only drosser concerns and thumbing the latter obviates it. Aluminium breath crumbling the night sky, Frisk backs away and strips in jazz to the flourescent bungee combing a song. Tracklights wisp. After little time the stones mutter with each other, and festoonery with outboard tutelage as wrong-footed as any here slips and chills the unforeseen groaning until just then (then) which was until just then only partially carpeting the masonry. The hero's earhole shudders and shimmies and a horn's inter-flection cries lost lanterns. "Fry Frisk," she witters studding the sky's ramparts and breathing fuel bills. Foolish feet apatter in the mosque. Why and when are crispier pamphlets now and then later, she muses? Four walls to an oven, the Wink is undergone. Robe balancing a night time of hurt and it is Friskys turn to cry. Bluntly humming, a moorhen cranks this sluice of conceit receiving only rumblings on Seahorse Ave, sweet envy fussing those blessed of china-hot halter tops. Fat resistors are independent, seemingly, though trace filings cast limitlessly on fun tiled crimpolene and the steps leading back and acrest of the trinket strewn stairs give up the hand tackle. The nib of a duster pauses and the filthy hot tap structure breaks free as though it were not four years since either of them has lingered in such a sage and millet perfumery. Bilious, this conquered gate, fun fanny gas clacking it's clogs and ruminations dissolvi
Charlie Beresford	Mar 31 2007 5:03 PM I can report a well of mess!!!! How floats your junction? crackle crackle over and out.....
Charlie Beresford	Mar 30 2007 5:59 PM Broadsword calling Danny Boy......
Roy Dodds	Mar 27 2007 12:00 AM Yes indeed,very good to hear from you..luncheon would be great as well R

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