From right to wrong: Deacon Friendly [with parrot], Ian Martini [in ducky shirt], Stacey Bedlam, Randy Shafter-Bolt, Joey Jones, and Charles "The Elbow" MacSheene.
"Comedy group?" Don't believe it. The Felix the Cat (Dog) Postcard (Post-Impressionist) Band were a team of old-fashioned entertainers. The announcers on German Pop shows and labels of CDs, bootleg and otherwise, billed them occasionally as a comedy team, and usually as a rock group. They were, of course, at heart, neither. They performed jazzy 20s tunes in the turbulent 60s, with brilliantly bizarre visuals you'd never see on the album. That in and of itself earns them an eternal place as, as Meat Loaf Aday would say, "ROCK LEGENDS (in hell)".
"Felix the Cat (Dog) Postcard (Post-Impressionist) Band,"
Typical track list, from their second album, "Yakhouse" --
Xanadu (added to US release, with album retitled "Xanadu")
Sound Engineer Symphony
Chew Me Judy
Esher
(Call Me) Mr. Apology
Wobbly Jelly and Pink Blancmange
Look at Me, I'm Terrible
Cheers to Eunice
(You're the) Rural Squawkbox
Short Song
Pissy Mint
The Old Innie and Outro
Dueling Trombones
A Little Flat in Kent
A-B-O/Just My Type
Flush.
Cheers To Eunice
written by Rutley C. Frontloader (Stacey Bedlam?)
performed by Stacey Bedlam
from "Xanadu"
(speaking)
You know, there's always one girl, isn't there? The one that gets under
your skin like a splinter, the kind that breaks off and you can't get it
out, and it just keeps throbbing and throbbing....
(singing)
Cheers to Eunice
How I do miss
You when when you're not here
Every time you're near
Love surrounds us, dear
Cheers to Eunice
Note the newness
Of my suit and tie
I'm a happy guy
You're the reason why
Others may say
That I'm no good for you
But they don't know the way...
(big smile)
Cheers to Eunice
No, not boo, hiss
My heart's set on fire
Sonnets you inspire
You're my one desire
There will be those
Who say I'm bad for you
Please, take off your clothes
And let's show them a thing or two
Cheers to Eunice
When us two kiss
Fireworks galore
Please let me explore
It's you I adore
Yummily wheee
Yoodely rut
Yespleaselet's mmlalala
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A-B-O/Just My Type
written by Rutley C. Frontloader
performed by Stacey Bedlam
from "Xanadu"
Sing a song of sutures
The white cell count is low
My feelings hinge
On that syringe
And where it just might go
Play a game of plasma
A pipette's dream come true
The needle thrills
A test tube fills
With liquid me and you
A is for aorta
Believe me, veins are ripe
Oh, bay ay ay ay yay-ee-yay bee!
(beat, beat)
Just my type
It doesn't matter what they say
Just tighten up the tourniquet
And woozy with me down
To the ground
In a faint of love
The rubber glove
Just helps my feelings move along
A is for amoeba
Believing all the hype
Oh, bay ay ay ay yay-ee-yay bee!
(beat beat)
Just my type
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pissy Mint
written by Rutley C. Frontloader
performed by Ian Martini
from "Xanadu"
Covered and coated
Away sails the main
It's easier then
to mask, oh, the pain
of it aaaaaaaaall
When the outer is over
It's clear to the tongue
That life's just a pissy mint
wasted on young
It's apaaaaaaaaal
ling to sing of things you know
are gone, the song is down below
It's wrong, but hey
Shut your mouth!
Pissy miiiiiiiiint
Sweet for the moment, enjoy
But soon you will find it's a hard playing toy
For when you get into it
That's the real sin to it
You are of one mind but yours is wrong
The stretcher awaits
for the taffy like seizure
of brain matter hatters
when things here don't please ya
You can run, but you can't hiiiiiiiiiiiiide
It's already insiiiiiiiiiiide
It just hasn't come out yet.
Ha! Just you wait!
Pissy mint, indeed!
Two for you and one for meeeeeeeee!
That makes threeeeeeeee!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(CALL ME) MR. APOLOGY
by "Floyd Leonard" (Ian Martini?)
performed by Stacey Bedlam
from "Xanadu"
I refused!
To give you an apology
When I insulted
Your favorite star
I refused
To give you an apology
When I smashed in your house with my car
Now you won't give me your love
And life is getting cold
I don't think I can take it
I think it's time to fold
I don't want to end up depressed and old!
When love's apart
It's on your head
A frozen heart
An empty bed
You want to laugh
But puke instead
It's time to tell you I'm sorry
Call me Mr. Apology
I'm not too big a man to admit that what I did was rather wrong
Call me Mr. Apology
Dignity's my thing, but when love's been lost it's stupid to be strong
[Ian's attempt at a guitar solo, as you like it ... cor! What a waste of time.]
Though I'm not sorrier now
Than I was yesterday
I'll paint the words "I'm sorry"
From my headbone to my back
... and hopefully we can wind up in the sack! [laughs]
Call me Mr. Apology
I'm not too big a man to admit that what I did was rather wrong
Call me Mr. Apology
Dignity's my thing, but when love's been lost it's stupid to be strong
Call me Mr. Apology
I'm not too big a man to admit that what I did was rather wrong
Call me Mr. Apology
Dignity's my thing, but when love's been lost it's stupid to be strong
[I'm sorry, all right? I'm sorry I killed your gerbil Stanley. I'm sorry I called
your mother a harlot. I'm sorry, so sorry, so very very sorry about that. And
don't even get me started about that nuclear waste thing ...]
Call me Mr. Apology ...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A LITTLE FLAT IN KENT
by "Floyd Leonard"
performed by Stacey Bedlam
from "Xanadu"
I bought a little flat in Kent Kent Kent Kent Kent
To my eyes it was heaven-sent sent sent sent sent
No need to pay a landlord rent rent rent rent rent
I had a little flat in Kent!
And in my little flat in Kent Kent Kent Kent Kent
My deep desires I hoped to vent vent vent vent vent
Bought booze and women with every cent cent cent cent cent
I had inside that flat in Kent!
Guitar solo!
Oh, come on, you can do better than that.
That's better. Or worse. It's hard to tell.
I played my music very loud loud loud loud loud
'Til all around there grew a crowd crowd crowd crowd crowd
Told a policeman to get bent bent bent bent bent
And lost my little flat in Kent!
Now all alone inside my cell cell cell cell cell
I feel surprisingly unwell well well well well
But happy for the time I spent spent spent spent spent
There in my little flat in Kent!
The end.
You want to know how it started? Well, according to Ian Martini, he was in his youth an art student at some pitiful little college in Shropshire, England, wasting time to earn a four-year bachelor's degree in something or other he wasn't really interested in. He met Stacey Bedlam, a man with a girl's name who was playing nights in a jazz band, or rather playing along since he had no actual musical talent. Nor did any of the others in the band, as it turned out. They simply showed up on time and showed as much wild enthusiasm as they could muster, playing to drunken audiences in the tavern down the corner, who were generally appreciative. Befriending Bedlam, he came to see the act as a favor. Within the space of an hour he was playing piano. He had some experience here - two weeks of lessons when he was eight - and Ian fit right in. The band was actually founded by bass violinist Deacon Friendly and explosives expert Randy Shafter-Bolt. Also in the lineup: Charles "The Elbow" MacSheene, Fred Forks, and Dudley Bakely Cornwall Torquay-Huffingstein-Smith, esq. They called themselves the Felix the Cat Post-Impressionists. They might as well have been. It took three years of practice, but somehow they cut an album and became the biggest hit on the arty club circuit, with high marks for visual style, and a sound of music that showed quick learning, at the very least. They'd gone from jazz to an experimental sort of rock and roll. In early 1968 Mick Jagger caught the act in a London pub, or so the story goes. The story goes on to say he met the boys backstage and offered to produce their next album. All that can really be proven is that they fired their first producer, Martin Leach, and picked up a new one, for a single track, "Xanadu." The producer's listed name was Q. Atreides Frodobadebo, but any teenager on the street could tell you who it really was. So the story goes. The single sold like wildfire, for whatever reason. "Xanadu" was never included on the original albums in England, it took the Americans to do that. It wasn't their best song. In fact, it was one of their worst. It just happened to be catchy and infamous enough to sell. Such are the whims of success, and for a while the band had a lot of it. They appeared in a big-budget movie, with the biggest names in British rock. Unfortunately the film, when edited together, turned out to be virtually unwatchable, and the distributors sat on it for half a year before running it as a christmas special on Rediffusion. The reviews were harsh, but any publicity can be good publicity, and premiering the same weekend on Thames TV was a show called "Technical Difficulties," a children's comedy series on which the Felix the Cat band was a star attraction. That got good reviews, very good reviews indeed. With bad jokes and good timing, how could it not? Serious businessmen were rushing home from work to watch a kid's show. That's what we call a hit.
By 1969, though, the band was obviously on its last Theremin legs. There'd been fighting, and the headwriters of "Technical Difficulties" had closed down the show to create a new one, and left them rootless. The band broke up in 1969, again in 1971, and yet again in 1974. Despite their inability to work together for any length of time, the disbanded band had cut two more albums before they realized it. But the '74 breakup was final, since Charles had disappeared after a ten-hour session spent banging cymbals with his head. (He was found two weeks later, half-alive and chewed by squirrels.) Even the success of "Technical Difficulties" was forgotten when its successor, "Glenn Dibley's Cavalcade of Lies," won its following ...
Felix the Dog songs from other albums follow:
HI-FI PIRATE
by "Floyd Leonard"
performed by Ian Leonard
from: "Polliwoggles"
Hi.
Hiiiiii-fiiii.
You're a hi-fi pirate
Chomping at the beat of defeat
At the hands of an eardrum
Trying hard to shave the wave
of neo-symphonistic newfound newsound
Down inside a vinyl machine
It's not unclean
Hi-pirates try to catch the world in a crash
I'm just a hi-fi pirate fighting for a number one smash
Well, a hi-fi pirate's gone, turned-on
Whenever there's a backbeat, feet street
Feeling like the world's been changed
Into something strange
Hi-fi pirates lie, but when it's time to be king
You'll find a hi-fi pirate sailing for the latest thing
Yeah, the undergrown myth folks
Sing about what's gone inside their head in bed
A red letter day gone astray, turning gray
The ponytail can't sing and I keep thinking 'bout
What we've lost, what we've gained
I think it's time to go insane!
A hi-fi pirate knows
The show's all over for the square peg, peg legs
Work magnetic nine to five
'Til they're not alive
Hi-fi pirates die for what the music believes
With all the brains in the world
They're buttoning their lives on their sleeves
It's time to be a rocker, time to be a man
Time to go on prime-time with a revolution plan
It's time for something other than what used to be the hip
A record is a pirate flag, we'll spin it on our ship
You're a hi-fi pirate
Chomping at the beat of defeat
At the hands of an eardrum
Trying hard to shave the wave
of neo-symphonistic newfound newsound
Down inside a vinyl machine
It's not unclean
Hi-fi pirates lie, but when it's time to be king
You'll find a hi-fi pirate sailing for the latest thing
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
MR. FRIENDLY'S MONKEY
lyrics by Rutley C. Frontloader
performed by Stacey Bedlam
From: "Kitten Kong"
When Mr. Friendly's monkey comes to town
It's hard for anyone to wear a frown
We like to stroke his fur
and listen to his squeals
He loves to eat bananas and then
smoke up all the peels
When Mr. Friendly's monkey has to go
He doesn't care who does or doesn't know
He'll fling his poop around and 'round for days
'cause that's how Mr. Friendly's monkey plays
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THE THAT GUY SHOW
lyrics by Floyd Leonard (Ian Martini?), tune traditional
performed by Randy Shafter-Bolt
From: "Kitten Kong"
It's the That Guy show
Starring That Guy you know
From a lot of shows he did before
But things didn't quite work out
He didn't work for a year
And he's had a little trouble with his life and career
He seemed to have some talent
But the time wasn't right
So he's lowering his standards
And he'll be here tonight
For the That Guy Show
Starring That Guy you know
From a lot of shows better than this!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
EXUBERANT GOATHERD
by "Rutley C. Frontloader"
performed by Ian Martini
From: "Polliwoggles"
There once was a man whose name was Pete
Wanted sex, but couldn't score with girls he'd meet
He fantasized while tending to his flock
Realizing they could take care of his cock
Baaaaaaah!
It's Pete, the exuberant goatherd
Prancing up and down the hill
Anyone there who sees him says
"Oh, what a thrill!"
Once a day, okay, twice, well, maybe more
Only stops when he's feeling very sore
Behind a shapely goat, he'll scream till hoarse
'bout the joys of ruminantial intercourse
Baaaaaaah!
He's just an exuberant goatherd
Screwing up and down the hill
Anyone there who sees him says,
"Oh, what a thrill!
It's a sight to see
And not too hard to find
And the best part is
The goats don't seem to mind
From behind
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
PRE-PACKAGED MAN
by "Floyd Leonard"
performed by Ian Martini
from: "Bognor"
My face fell off today
I don't have anything to say
I'm lost in a world that I don't understand
I come in a box, I'm a pre-packaged man
What am I coming to? Where have I been?
You'll buy me in orange or aquamarine
I love you
And I'm cheap, too
I'm a pre-packaged man
You'll find me in a vacuum-sealed can
I give no advice
And I'll smile and be nice
In our virtue and vice, we stand
I'm a pre-packaged man
But love don't come in a can
I won't give advice
But if you think more than twice
The world will be nice again
We're living in a mind-control age
And metal skin is all the rage
Got no past and no future, I'm built without dreams
I think about nothing, and say what I mean
I love you
And I'm cheap, too
I'm a pre-packaged man
Surviving just the best that I can
My battery's low
But for now it's the show
That makes me your favorite friend
I'm a pre-packaged man
Just holding out my heart in my hand
My battery's low
But I don't have to go
Let's all fall in love again
I'm a pre-packaged man
But love don't come in a can
Take my advice
If you think more than twice
The world will be nice again
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
MUSTARD
by "Rutley C. Frontloader"
performed by Randy Shafter-Bolt
from: "Let's Give Up and Hate Each Other"
I went to the ballpark
And found my crummy seat
I left for the concession stand
To get a bite to eat
I waited in the line there
With trash around my feet
Everything was normal until after my receipt
That's when I asked them to supply
The condiment I'd soon apply
To my three hot dogs
Waiting in their buns
I got ketchup, relish, sauerkraut
Nothing else, I looked about
Searching through packets, I did shout
I really wanted mustard
To make my hot dogs gold and lustered
A crowd around me soon was clustered
'cause I was screaming really loud
"Yeah, yay yay
I want mustard!"
That yummy yellow matter custard
I want mustard
On my dogs
"Come on, come on!
What's going on here?
I'll get the mustard out
So have no fear!"
I proceeded to look for it under the sink
It wasn't there, oh where, oh, where'd I put it? Let me think...
Oh, no! I ran out of it yesterday
Now this crazy screaming looney's going to hit me with his tray
Hopping like a rabbit who has had too much beer
We haven't any mustard
What should I do here?
Well, I really wanted mustard
I've never been so flustered
For those now joining us, you've just heard
'cause I'm still screaming good and loud
"Yeah, yay yay
I want mustard!"
All the cashiers were disgustered
I want mustard
On my dogs
On my dogs
On my dogs
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
UNTITLED #57
by "Rutley C. Frontloader"
performed by Stacey Bedlam
from: "Teddy Bears Don't Stink" (Stacey Bedlam solo album, now long out of print)
When darkness falls
Hushed tones
fill the silence of the night
A wild stab in the dark
is life and death
but feels so good
The waves on the shore
crash and surge
My head hears, but my heart is blind
Erosion is imminent
But somewhere else
something begins
Somewhere else
Heretic and bloody
Time is effervescent
The bubbles tickle my nose
But all too soon
your drink is finished
Whatever you're doing
Don't
Unless you are being nice already
Enjoy the part of the world that is still good
It won't take long
Add yourself to it
And take others with you
There it is
I was looking for that
Thought it lost
But it was there all along
That piece of my heart
you have
Remember
when life was good?
The wind was sweet, the sky so blue
Friends were dear
Fun was had
Oh, wait, that was yesterday...
I love to cuddle with my bear
Button eyes, and thick blonde hair
All secrets that I have, I share
And she with me, it's only fair
I take her with me everywhere
And tell myself I do not care
That people laugh and point and stare
I'm older than I used to be
Here it comes again
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FOREIGN POLICY MAKER
by "Floyd Leonard"
performed by Ian Martini
from: "Let's Give Up and Hate Each Other"
I've stared in the heart of political beasts
I've ordered ten bomb runs from the middle to the east
I speak with diplomacy, follow a plan
I'm known as the president's rightest hand man
Quiet force
I'm the king of closed doors
I'm a foreign policy maker-ah
I'm just a foreign policy maker-ah
Soon they'll see
Nothing's foreign to me
I'll speak with prime ministers, presidents and shahs
They'll know I'm in charge, though I'm never the boss
And if I offend them, a war is the cost
It's okay
Things are quiet today
I'm just a foreign policy maker-ah
I'm just a foreign policy maker-ah
There's no fame
But I'll never get blamed
With missiles the world's like a penny arcade
I'm here on the call in a red-alert raid
My hand's on the trigger, but don't be afraid
It's just me
I could start World War Three
I'm just a foreign policy maker-ah
I'm just a foreign policy maker-ah
I'm just a foreign policy maker-ah
I'm just a foreign policy maker-ah
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
PEOPLE
by "Floyd Leonard"
performed by Stacey Bedlam
from: "Technical Difficulties"
People
People who are people
Are people
I think
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
HEART OF MINE
by "Rutley C. Frontloader"
performed by Ian Martini
from solo album: "How Sweet to Have a Wank"
oh, heart of mine
please hold for me
sweet feelings held
in secrecy
the love that's here
one day shall be
allowed to fly
a bird set free
but till that time
my tapestry
of dancing joy
no one can see
the special thoughts
of us and we
must stay inside
and never flee
I beg of you
on bended knee
oh, heart of mine
please hold for me
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
POEM FOR MY FATHER
by "Floyd Leonard"
performed by Ian Martini
from solo album with The Grim Planet: "Stretchers"
You know, some folks call this a jaded world
Full of hate and apathy
People are afraid to dream
Their ambition's gone to sea
But the first man I ever met taught me
How to reach for the stars
So I'd like to dedicate tonight to my father
Keelo, the milkman from Mars
Now it's hard to keep a family together in this
Broken day and age
But my father, he was different
We had to keep him in a cage!
And when he broke out, he'd cause trouble
People knew him everywhere
He was ten feet tall, with green skin
And radioactive hair
Still he was the perfect father
Though his eyes shot laser beams
He taught me to stick up for myself
Coached my baseball and soccer teams
And in my school studies
He made sure I was never behind
It didn't hurt that he could also
Knock down buildings with his mind
He must have come from outer space
Or maybe Illinois
He abducted my mother one night
And she played him like a toy
They made my purple sister
Six squirrels, and a pie
And at the end they made yours truly
And I'm normal
Aren't I?
I don't know where he came from
What my life's supposed to mean
He flew away eight years ago
And I don't know
Where he's been
Still I'd like to think he's happy
Eating out amongst the stars
And I'd like to dedicate tonight to my father
Keelo, the milkman from Mars.
Thank you.
In later years Stacey Bedlam became known for his "Sir Endlessly at Rambling Without End" series of apparently comedy albums, which were simply Stacey telling inexplicable long stories describing the eccentric British life of an eccentrically British old British eccentric, at Great Length. Deflating old-money British values with style and wit, the albums are described today as "brilliantly unlistenable." This, and his rarely-seen mid-80s autobiographical television special "Some Old Golden-Haired Guy," in which he discussed his childhood in an almost coherent almost musical almost fashion, can still be seen today if you happen to know some loser geek with no life but great taste in comedy who collects this sort of thing, like the, uh, webmaster of PythoNET probably. Or ianmartini.orgy. What is less know is that Stacey kept on writing songs his entire life. The problem was that he never recorded them or wrote them down and very few people heard them at the time even, as he was living alone on a houseboat in some lost coast of Britain, alone with his thoughts, paintings, family, pets, and friends who loved him. He performed these live on the radio, so yes, recordings exist if not CDs, and no we don't have copies of them either. In the 90s, Stacey spent his time dying an untimely and stupid death in a house fire. He is described by many as some sort of genius - poetic, probably - too brilliant to live, too blond to die.
Ian Martini recorded several solo albums you'll never hear anywhere but online, and performed for many years posing sometimes as a comedian, usually as a singer. He was, I suppose, both, though some years he couldn't make a living as either. Up and down his whole life, always surest to impress when it really didn't matter, Ian Martini pursued a highly successful career trying desperately not to become famous. Always turning out strangely beautiful melodies no matter what he did, he would gain huge legions of fans, which would ruin his whole plan not to become famous, and he would have to lock himself in his house and not come out for 6 years until people forgot who he was again. Thus his immense musical talent went, thankfully, unappreciated. In his later years he took to hosting birdwatcher's shows on Anglia television just to earn his pay and continue avoiding fame of any sort. Sadly, the kids on the world wide web are growing hipper to his tricks, and he may, sadly, become famous yet.
Bald by the time he was eight, Ian Martini's career was long and varied and always surprising. It's a surprise, an utter shocker, that such a man was born in this world, a surprise that he didn't become more famous than he was, and a surprise that his years of good music have lasted as long as they have. At any age he could just smile, pick up a beat-up old guitar and say "Good existence, gentlemen and ladies, I hope you're having a time. For what it's worth, and it's been a marvelous influence on me, thank you." He would then play, win a small mountain of applause, shake a few hands, answer a few questions, go home to the wife, have corned beef and cabbage and a little bit of tea, then go to bed.
People tend to overmention Ian's involvement with Glenn Dibley, just because that's the main reason everyone in the fucking world has heard of Ian. But his involvement with the actual Dibley team was minimal. The show was already in its fourth (and last) season before Ian was able to have anything to do with it. He appeared in one episode of the show, its last. (He blamed himself.) But his place in history was assured when he played the Wandering Scop in their film of "Beowulf," in an unforgettable cameo. When the Earwig team got sick of movies, they split apart and went off to do their own series, and Ricky Noble had Ian star in his. The show was entitled "Admirable Forces Television," parodying (sort of) the entertainment provided to troops in the British army. But the show went far beyond that, to provide Noble sketches as good as or better than any in Dibley, and Ian's song stylings. Sadly, the budget was so low, most episodes were taped in the BBC2 basement, with no director, no catering except a bag of airline peanuts, and no actors present beside Ricky Noble himself, who would just try to fill up space as best he could, often by talking about the peanuts. The reviewers were not impressed by the show, and though it ran two seasons before anyone got up the nerve to cancel it, the minute it was out of England's life she forgot about it completely. Recently, a few bootleg tapes of the never-seen-since-75 show turned up and were watched by no more than 2 total fucking internet geeks. And the webmaster of PythoNET.org. They immediately screamed in joy and declared it the greatest television program ever, and then the rest of the world looked at them funny because, to this date, only five people have ever seen the show, and one of them is Ricky Noble.
Anyway, after "AFT" folded, Martini and Noble shook hands and parted ways, and Ian was broke again until 1978, when he got a call from a very excited Ricky, who had just gotten a movie contract in America! The idea was a comedy history of rock and roll. The goal was to resurrect the name of the old show, and do something much better so that people would remember it. "Can you do Mick Jagger?" Noble asked. And a legend was born. "The Shropshire Stones and Other Rock Quandaries" remains a cult favorite to this day. Even Mick Jagger liked it. So did the corporate owners of the Rolling Stones songs, who sued Ian Martini out of existence for writing his own. They made a lot of money. And today Ian Martini is, as usual, broke. Last we heard the rights to all the songs had been bought by Latoya Jackson.
So after four television series, one marriage, twelve different record deals and a falling-out with Ricky Noble, who is Ian Martini? A broke bald old Englishman with more talent in his left buttock than most people have in their whole asses. He would like to call himself an amusing failure. But if he was, I don't know what a success is. Ian Martini is described by everyone but himself and the general public as "wonderful and nice and fucking brilliant." He is still writing songs, and is not dead yet.
TEFLON SOUL
By Ian Martini
From the Shropshire Stones "Unnecessarily, but Also" 1999 reunion CD
I rolled into the record store
for the news on all things old
To hear the sounds that made parents frown
When vinyl was still gold
And figure out what the kids did
Before 1983
But the Eggman's dead, the cashier said
we only sell CDs.
I wasn't alive when Dr. Martin dreamed
When the kids made love not war
I can only remember bland old Bush
Hell, what was he fighting for?
Was there a time when things still mattered?
Besides Pokemon, I mean?
When social responsibility
was more than watching a tv screen?
Our history's been remastered, in 20-track DullBee
For 18 bucks you buy an artificial memory
It can't tell you why the students marched
It can't explain their cries
A CD's a kaleidoscope
But it hasn't any eyes
Don't lose your grip
on our sinking ship
Don't lose or gain control
you'll find these days
sometimes it pays
to have a Teflon Soul
Back up the beat, and we'll repeat
the end of the world again
we're runnin' low on pleasure
but at least we won't feel pain
I've been here since Reagan slept in his chair
and Michael Jackson started turning white
Since the world was owned by fifty men
And that was all all right
When our schools never needed money
That was for the military
And no one ever criticized anything
Except what was on TV
Now Hunter said history was hard to learn
'Cause of all the hired B.S.
I don't want to hear the 60s from NBC
And from Hollywood even less
The kids are bright, we know things aren't all right
With our MSUSA&E
Hey, you say you want a digital revolution?
There's gonna be hell to see
Hold my hand, and you'll understand
there are diamond skies above
If love is all you need, babe
then all you need is love
If we never stop getting angry
We can chase the blue meanies away
Yeah, the best defense is a picket fence
and Sgt. Pepper spray
Don't lose your grip
on our sinking ship
Though they might eat through your hull
you'll find these days
only money pays
In a world with a Teflon Soul
Back up that beat, and we'll all repeat
the end of the world again
we're runnin' low on pleasure BUT ....
at least we wo-on't fe-el pa-ain
Na na na na na na na na na ...
(Text and art by Garrett Gilchrist. Lyrics by Laurie Stevens and Garrett Gilchrist. With apologies and greatest respect to the Bonzos.)
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