David Gedge's Barmy Army (On tour with The Wedding Present part III)

Back at the hotel after the gig, we bought a large case of lager and settled in at Kirk's room for a music quiz ending to the night. I was teamed with Harry and fell asleep, I think we lost.
We set off early from Portland the next morning for the long drive up to Canada.
Along the way we stopped at Jessica's mums house and picked up mine and Kellie's missing passports, after I skillfully out manoeuvred our "follower" on Interstate 5.
The next port of call was lunch, we stopped at a wonderful Mexican restaurant where despite his hatred of cheese (mentalist) even even Peter enjoyed his meal. It really was one of the better meals of our entire trip, and thoroughly enjoyable as we say there ate, drank, chatted and chilled for a couple of hours. The owner was delightful as well and graciously snapped photographs for us tourists. I think our large group expanded his daily takings in a big way and we left him a generous tip for his efforts.

VANCOUVER, BC. CANADA.

Upon entering Canada we were pulled into the customs office to explain our large travelling group, not too much hassle except it was here I discovered that I "might" have problems getting back into the USA because my green card wasn't with my passport. Doh!!!!!
My options were:
A) Stay in the States.
B) Enter Canada and take a chance on not getting back in.

I elected to choose option B. There was no other choice really, I didn't want to miss the show and obviously as the van driver it was my fucking duty. Oh yeah, danger is my middle name.
We finally made it to Vancouver and the City was quite beautiful, we passed a stadium where the soon to be MLS team Vancouver Whitecaps were playing. The streets were filled with fans and I was quite impressed, just a pity we were short on time, I would have actually liked to have gone to watch Peter Beardsley's old team in action.
Our hotel was a right dump, definitely the worst one of the entire tour and situated in a shady part of town as well. Some dodgy homeless bloke was wandering the corridors checking the doors to guests rooms. I reported this to the desk clerk and he seemed completely uninterested, the twat.
We all rode to the venue in taxi's as I fancied a drink on the last night, big mistake, the first pint I sampled was a watered down Guinness. It was so foul that it put me off drinking for the rest of the evening.
The gig was ace, Earlimart thanked us for our support, we gave Aaron a barmy army shirt which he wore onstage. TWP paid tribute to us onstage and after the gig, we chatted with both bands and everyone posed for photo's.
We met legendary forumite Revs at this gig, he politely greeted us but we didn't see him again which was a shame, nice bloke, but I just think he was a bit shy. I'm sure (and hope) our paths will cross again one day.
The next morning we tearfully said our goodbyes. Harry, Kirk, Peter, Ian and Steph were flying out of Vancouver, while Cait, Keg, Kellie and I were driving back to L.A.
We hugged, took pictures, shed a few tears and then drove the "Jambo Coloured Beast" off in the morning sun, southbound back towards the USA.
At customs I embarrassingly confessed that I had forgot to bring my green card along on the trip.
My take on the matter is that they could just easily look me up on the computer, compare my CA ID, social security number and passport with my green card file and say "Oh yeah, that's you alright" and let me go, it would literally take 5 or 10 minutes.
Well that wasn't their take on it. We were "imprisoned" in some scruffy DHSS type office for three hours while I was bollocked, tortured and interrogated. Then I had to sign a form saying that I was a naughty boy and wouldn't do it again or I would get a massive fine.
Oh well, no harm done, at the end of the day if they had made it quick and easy I would have no motivation not to forget it again in the future and I realise that they were only doing their job.
Needless to say, I won't ever forget my green card again.
The plan was for me to drive through without stopping but by 1am I'd had enough and we booked into a cheap motel just outside California. Fortunately the room had three beds so Keg and Cait didn't have to bunk up.
I got us up all early at 7am and we were soon on the road again.
The drive home was fucking mind numbing, luckily for the passengers the DVD player kept them entertained.
We finally arrived back in Simi Valley at 9.30pm on Sunday night completely knackered.
The next morning I dispatched Cait and Keg off at LAX, we bade each other farewell and with that the barmy army tour was over.
I was kind of relieved that it over, all the driving had taken a bit of a toll on me, I was shagged and it was a bit stressful being somewhat in charge of 11 other adults.
But I was also extremely sad, we had a wonderful time, travelled with great people and had loads of fun. The shows were excellent as both bands played their hearts out.
I was even gutted to see the van returned, I had grown fond of that massive fucker during the previous two weeks.
I'd like to take this opportunity to thank Jessica and David, Terry, Chris and Graeme of The Wedding Present for making the tour possible and putting us on the guest list.
Earlimart for also welcoming us and being exceptionally friendly to us during the tour. Maybe they were scared of us and thought we were a group of middle aged stalkers not to be trifled with, either way they never let it be known. A special mention to Aaron for his piss poor British accent and for wearing a barmy army shirt onstage.
Thanks to the lovely people at Bandago.
A shout out to the many forumites who greeted us on the tour Kia, Nall and his lovely girlfriend, Fergal, Revs and anyone else who said hi, but I forgot about.
But most of all a big thanks to Kellie, Ian, Steph, Cait, Peter, Kirk, Marc, Harry, Keg and Phil. Thanks for coming along for the ride and contributing to the most enjoyable two weeks ever. The gigs were great but the best times were the touristy ventures, eating, drinking and just hanging out with you lot.
Fingers crossed for an east coast tour in 2010.

Rest In Peace Billy Mays.

Somewhere up in heaven Saint Peter just bought some Oxyclean.

David Gedge's Barmy Army (On tour with The Wedding Present part II)

Tour Set list: (It was pretty consistent with possibly a song change at 2 or 3 dates)

Kennedy
It's for you
Gone
Don't take me home until I'm drunk
You should always keep in touch with your friends
Lovenest
Blue Eyes
Palisades
Sports Car
Spiderman on Hollywood
Crawl
You turn me on
Granadaland
Interstate 5
My Favourite Dress
Nowhere Fast
Model, actress, whatever
The thing I like most about him is his girlfriend
Dalliance
Dare
Flying Saucer
Boo Boo

So on day 4 of the tour we had a day off, which gave me time to show the barmy army around and give them a Wedding Present type tour of Los Angeles/Hollywood.
Obviously we drove down Interstate 5, I took them onto Sunset and Hollywood Blvd, took Fountain and after a couple of pints treated them to some Santa Ana winds of my own. We also drove to the hotel featured on the cover of El Rey and the locals must have thought we were mental as we all stood there snapping photos of some shitty motel. As a treat we visited Amoeba Music where Harry spent about $500 (just kidding Anne) and then posed for a photo outside the Cinerama dome. The it was a drive by of all the venues TWP/Cinerama had played in L.A. and despite driving to Sweetzer and the Cat and Fiddle there were no Morrissey sightings for Ian and Steph.
We also tried to tour the Hollywood Forever Cemetery but it was closed as they were showing movies, only in Hollywood eh?

SAN FRANCISCO, CA.

The drive up to San Francisco was pretty uneventful, although we did finally suss out how to work the DVD player in the van.
The sensible amongst us checked into the Grant Hotel while the others were in a nicer hotel nearer to the venue. Unfortunately for them Peter had booked them in for wrong year, After much confusion and extra cost they eventually sorted it out.
The Great American Music Hall is a beautiful venue situated downtown in a complete dump, it made Brixton and Moss Side look posh, it was well dodgy.
Fortunately no one of us were really arsed and found some run down bar that even Charles Bukowski would have avoided. But the locals were friendly and very welcoming and insisted that we returned after the show, which we did.
The show was excellent, David jokingly remarked that the venue was a dump and I had probably the best night on the merchandise table. The San Fran locals sure like to buy stuff, must have been the ruggedly handsome sales person.
This was the gig that we first met our "enthusiastic follower" Green Beetle, she certainly kept us entertained on the road and took a real shine to Cait and especially the bass player from the Container Drivers.

We had another day off so we took in the sights of San Francisco, we took the cable car down to the wharf and paid for the Alcatraz tour. Obviously we all felt at home on a prison island (some more than others though, eh Cait?)
Afterwards we found the holy grail of all bars, an Irish pub/Indian curry house with a satellite jukebox that carried tons of WP and Cinerama and the place was called Kennedy's. We pretty much spent the rest of the day in there, thrilling the locals with our jukebox picks. The lads got pretty drunk and even tried there hand at chatting up some 18 year old beauty who was in there promoting St Pauli beer. Obviously none of them were successful, silly drunken old farts....

EUGENE, OR.

We set off early for Eugene as everyone wanted to see the Golden Gate Bridge and I had a brainwave that we should also take in the Redwoods.
Unfortunately this was where little scouse Phil and the group went their separate ways. Hugs, kisses and no bodily fluids were exchanged as dropped him off at SF Airport and dashed to the GG Bridge.
We stood around like tourists do, taking pictures and buying touristy shite like Golden Gate snow globes, Golden Gate ties, Golden Gate postcards, Golden Gate shirts and Golden Gate thimbles, they clearly saw us coming.
After a few hours we found ourselves at the Redwoods and ventured through the drive-thru tree, unfortunately the van was too big and wouldn't fit so we had to walk-thru.
This tourist attraction was run by the worlds meanest old woman, strangely enough though, they neglected to put that on the brochure.
Driving up to Eugene seemed to be taking forever and after calling ahead we found out we were three hours away with the show due to start in two hours. Of course this was estimated for a person driving at the legal speed limit. Well I didn't want to disappoint my guests so I basically drove the van like Sterling Moss on crack averaging a speed of 85 mph in the pitch black. We eventually got to the venue just before the starting time, parked up and walked through the doors just as Earlimart took the stage. I felt quite proud of myself until Kellie told me that we had forgot to bring our passports with us and wouldn't be able to get into Canada, oh bugger.
Anyway a quick call home fixed that and arrangements were made to have them sent via UPS to Jessica's mums house in Washington. So that was sorted, or so I thought, but more about that later.
The John Henry was a tiny dive bar and not even half full, maybe 60 people in there for the show. But I'll give them credit, once the barmy army got going they all rolled their sleeves up and joined in making for a really enjoyable gig.
A couple of our group thought they had copped off with some attractive young ladies, but met up with them later on only to find the chicks were looking for suckers to buy them drinks, as if we couldn't have guessed.

SEATTLE, WA.

We set off for Seattle the next morning stopping off first at Wanker's Corner for lunch (No really), we used this as a photo op, but we were a bit upset that they didn't sell t-shirts of the landmark.
Seattle was wonderful, we lucked out and ended up in a great hotel. Prior to the gig Harry, Kirk, Kellie and me went to see Irvine Welsh at a book signing, it was very entertaining but because it was getting late I blagged our way to the front of the line to meet him and get our books signed, the natives were restless.
At Nuemo's we met fellow forumite the charming Fergal, he gave us a few pointers for tourists and I even had the night off from merchandising as Jessica's mate took over for me.
It was a nice change and I actually got to enjoy the entire show from the foot of the stage, a cracking one it was too.
It must be mentioned at this point that Earlimart had really grown on us, they were a great band, lovely people and Aaron had taken to mentioning us each night onstage while using a fake British accent that seemed to get worse with each show.

PORTLAND, OR.

Due to a mix up in the tour schedule Portland and Seattle had to be switched which was a bit of a pain in the arse and cost us valuable gas money and less time to spend in Seattle.
But we still found time to have a little walk around and and visit the Space Needle before having to bid the BBC name dropper Marc goodbye. It was sad to see him go, but the bonus was with him and Phil gone we certainly had a lot more room in the van. We also the Cinerama movie theatre in downtown Seattle and all bought t-shirts, vowing to all wear them for the show that night in Portland.
The pecking order now in the van was that everyone got a chance to sit next to me in the passenger seat, although I preferred Ian because he was the best at giving directions. Directly behind was what became referred to as the "Ladies Lounge" where Steph, Kellie and Cait could sit closer to the screen and have a better view (ie: the back of my head). The lads in the back could now stretch out and have more room to avoid each others farts.
After a further mix up at the hotel which was fucking miles away from the venue, we had a little bit of tension before setting off for the gig. Once found parking was sparse so I gave some fat bloke on duty $20 to let us park in front of his motel.
The Doug Fir was easily the nicest venue on the tour, it was like a posh log cabin, the food was the best we ate the whole time there and the show was tip top as ever. Keg went missing for a while and we all worried that he had been chopped up and was in the trunk of a Volkswagen. We found him in one piece though and thankfully alive.
Portland was also the last time we saw forumite Nall and his lovely girlfriend, he had pretty much showed up at most dates along the way, the ladies in our group loved him because he is a hottie and the lads loved him coming along because his girlfriend was equal in the eye candy stakes.

To be continued...

David Gedge's Barmy Army (On tour with The Wedding Present)

September 2008 will forever remain dear to me, it was the month that I had helped to organise a trip involving nearly a dozen Wedding Present fans to follow the band the length of the West Coast on their North American tour to promote the "El Rey" album.
Due to band connections we were added to the guest list at all but one show, with me and the lovely Steph appointed the group leaders.
After months of planning the 17th of September finally rolled around and I was dispatched to LAX to excitedly pick most of them up.
The pick up was long and tedious, but the job was done and everyone piled into the van and were suitably impressed, especially Kirk as it was a nice Jambo colour.
I crammed them all into the smallish "Kirkham Towers" and after a night of drinks, gift exchanges and chatting we finally hit the sack and got some much needed sleep.

SAN DIEGO, CA.

We rose early the next day, picked up my long time friend Lori and hit the road to San Diego. Ian must have taken about 45 shots of various Interstate 5 freeway signs, I never found out if any of them worked or not.
After arriving in SD, we checked into the hotel and soon met up with the other two members of our travelling group.
We were now a complete group with Marc, Phil, Harry, Keg, Peter, Cait, Ian, Steph, Kirk, Kellie and myself all on board and we set off to the Shakespeare Pub for a quick lunch and a couple of pints, then I dragged them off on a day tour, we visited Coronado Island and took in the beach, where women could be seen visibly fleeing as we wandered around aimlessly.
When it was time for the gig we quickly found the venue and hunted down the band who were eating at a Subway across from the venue (No expense spared then).
We chatted for while and then moved to The Casbah where we discovered that one or two of our group had forgot to bring Id's with them and were refused entry. Also in the meantime Phil and Keg had wandered off and nobody could find them, Peter was stressing out big time over the latter.
While they dealt with this I drove the two un-named pair (Ian and Marc) back to the hotel to get their ID.
Once back in the venue, a pint or two seemed to calm everyone down and they settled in to check out Earlimart the support band for the west coast leg of the tour.
We were pleasantly surprised, they were very good which is a welcome change for US WP gigs. I had the added bonus of hanging out with the lovely Ariana from the band at the merchandise table, result.
The gig was tremendous, the band played a great set even though the venue was only about half full. We hung around, had a couple of drink with the band and helped them load up their van.
On a side note I sold exactly 6 t-shirts, four to Barmy Army members and one to Kellie. Good job I wasn't on commission.

LOS ANGELES, CA.

The next day we had a mosey around Balboa Park in SD, then drove straight back to Simi Valley. Some checked into a nearby hotel, we all went our separate ways to get ready and met up again around 6pm at the hotel.
By now we had added my mates Neil, Mossy, his son Keith and my son Liam to our ranks for the night.
After a quick burger we headed off to the historic Troubadour, this was the venue the Brits had been most looking forward to visiting.
I watched Earlimart and then headed into the bar to man the merchandise table before heading upstairs to sit with Liam and Kellie. I squeezed past the other occupants of the VIP balcony and took my seat next to Kellie. The place was obviously dark, but the bloke sitting next to Liam looked familiar, in fact he was the double of Keanu Reeves.
I turned to Kellie and whispered "Is that Ke...?"
"Yeah" she interrupted, "it's Keanu Reeves"
"Nice" I thought.
The gig was great as usual, I would periodically check out Keanu though and thought it was strange that while he didn't seem to know some of the more famous songs, he seemed familiar with more obscure ones like "Flying Saucer".
I'm not exactly a fan of his, but he was certainly into the show and seemed nice enough, anyone who likes TWP is alright by me anyway.
I got up during the last song in order to retake my spot at the merchandise table, as I did so I said to Keanu "If you come to the merchandise table I'll sort you out with a couple of cd's"
"Oh thanks" he replied.
I cleared this up with David and went about selling merchandise. We certainly did more business than San Diego, which wasn't too hard to be honest.
Eventually my new celebrity friend showed up.
"Hi" he said "so what do you recommend?"
I picked out Bizarro and Seamonsters.
"These are the two classic albums"
Then I passed him El Rey.
"Of course you're going to need the new one"
Then I selected Take Fountain
"And you really should have the last one as well"
"Wow thanks, how much do I owe you?"
"Oh nothing mate, they're on the house"
He looked a bit embarrassed,
"Oh no I couldn't do that, it wouldn't be right"
He did seem really genuine and I didn't want him to feel uncomfortable
"Okay, I'll give them you for half price, $20 for all four"
"Wow, thanks, are you sure?"
"Yeah"
With that he dug into his pocket and pulled out a handful of cash.
Now you may be thinking "Flash twat" and that I was referring to a thick wad of $100 bills, but you'd be wrong. Keanu pulled out a handful of screwed up bills mainly singles and fives, with a couple of twenty's in there. I was impressed that he carried his money in the same messy manner that I do, Kellie has bollocked me in the past for this, since then if she complains about it I just say "If it's good enough for Keanu Reeves, it's good enough for me"

Anyway David arrived at the table and I introduced him to Keanu, who was all over him chatting like a fan and raving about the show. The Wedding Present might not be the most famous band in the world but it was nice to see one of the most famous actors in the world singing their praises, if only for one night.
David later asked "How come you didn't just give him those cd's?"
"Well he seemed a bit embarrassed to get then for free, so I charged him half"
Then I added "But let me ask you this, did he give you any of his DVDs for free?"
"Nope" came the reply
"Well then, I rest my case"

In all a great night was had by all even Keanu Reeves who despite being a huge star was true gent, very courteous and extremely patient in posing for pictures with the barmy army. He definitely went up in my estimation (and a few other Brits) that night.

To be continued.....

Musical Obsessions Part One. Morrissey and Me

I have always been a massive Morrissey fan, I saw The Smiths twice and Moz solo over 30 times. I would spend countless hours as a teenager listening to his music in my bedroom in those ugly old houses dancing my legs down to my knees.
Morrissey's lyrics were the script to my life at that time and Marr's music was the soundtrack, a match made in heaven. Misery loves company and I couldn't get enough.
When I moved out to California back in 1988 The Smiths and Morrissey became pretty much my only connection with Manchester and I clung onto them for dear life.
I attended dozens of Morrissey shows here in the US and it would be almost a religious experience to find myself surrounded by thousands of like minded people.
I started buying Morrissey fanzines at his gigs, I became so wrapped up in them and the fact that I could easily find fellow Moz disciples that I eventually wrote a Moz zine of my own, "Arty Bloody Farty".
Unlike the typical US Moz/zines that put Morrissey on a pedestal, mine was an attempt at humour and would often poke fun at Morrissey but mainly his fans, I was one myself, so surely it couldn't hurt? A self hating Morrissey fan, now that's an original concept.
I eventually became connected with the L.A. Moz posse a group of younger fanzine writers, photographers and college students who followed him all over the USA. To them as a Mancunian I was connected to Morrissey by birthplace and therefore someone who really appreciated where he was coming from, they couldn't grasp the reality of growing up in a grey and filthy Manchester. To me it was normal and nothing special, to them it was a magical place.
But they were kindred spirits and gave me a real chance to finally meet the man, as they usually knew where he was at any given moment.
The first time I "met" Morrissey was when author Johnny Rogan was in L.A. to promote his Morrissey/Marr bio "The Severed Alliance". He was appearing at Book Soup on Sunset Blvd where he read an excerpt, answered questions and signed copies. Despite the controversial nature of the book and Moz stating that he hated it and wished an untimely death upon Mr Rogan the night was politely low key and going well.
Then all of a sudden as fans were lining up patiently to get their book signed, somebody screamed "Oh my God, Morrissey is outside"
Instantly chairs were knocked over, gladiola's flew through the air as young bequiffed Americans fought valiantly to get out of the store.
And there he was, sitting in the passenger seat (Where the leather runs smooth) of a convertible Mercedes Benz across the street in the Tower Records parking lot.
We descended upon him like locusts and the car was surrounded, various items were thrust at him to sign. I had him sign a copy of my fanzine.
"Are you here to see Johnny Rogan Morrissey?"
"Errr no", he replied coyly "Is he here?"
"Yeah" we all replied in unison.
"Oh, I had no idea"
(Of course nobody was buying that excuse but we all pretended to anyway)
"Okay, I have to go now"
And with that he had his driver whisk him off down Sunset.

We went back to the bookstore and Johnny Rogan looked a little embarrassed but he also seemed quite pleased that Morrissey had gone out of his way to upstage him, it gave his book the biggest endorsement possible.
The incident was reported a week later in the NME, but they said that Morrissey drove up in a Pink Cadillac for better effect. He didn't of course, I was there.

A week later I got a call from one of the L.A. posse saying that Moz was staying at the Sunset Marquis in one of the cottages. I drove down there and spotted the same Mercedes parked outside one of them. I staked out the hotel, staying for a couple of hours. It's embarrassing to talk about this now I'm in my 40's, but I was a lot younger then. To relieve the boredom I wrote a lengthy letter to Morrissey, boring him with such details of how his music changed my life, who I was, where I lived in Manchester etc, etc...
After a few hours it was clear he wasn't going to appear, so I put my letter in a big envelope along with copies of my "Arty Bloody Farty" fanzine and put them on the passenger seat of the convertible Mercedes Benz.
Later that night posse member Fawn Vu called me.
"Andy, I've just seen Morrissey on Sunset outside a coffee bar reading your fanzine"
"Fuck off"
"No really, he was reading your zines"
It took a while for this to sink in, but I never told anyone about me putting the fanzine in the car, so it might have had an air of truth about it. Besides Fawn was pretty sensible.

I called my friend and fellow Moz freak Chris and we arranged to go back the next day.
We arrived at the Marquis the next morning and sat on the sidewalk in front of Mozzer's cottage. After an hour or so Morrissey walks out and says hello. It was very surreal, the man you have worshipped for years, right in front of you within touching distance.
We start chatting, upon hearing my familiar accent he asks
"Where are you from?"
"Manchester"
"I know that, where abouts"
"Oh sorry, Middleton"
"Wow, have you ever heard of the Civic?"
I chuckled at the absurdity of the question.
"Yeah, have you been to it?"
"Oh yes" he replied, "I've seen many shows there"
"There's a famous tattoo parlour in Middleton" he continues "But you've probably never heard of it"
"Do you mean Louis Malloy?"
"That's the one"
Louis Malloy is famous tattoo artist from Middleton, all the rockabilly's in Manchester (and indeed all over the UK) would use him, I knew loads of people who had work done by him over the years. Maybe Moz took his band of rockabilly's or heard of him through Boz or Garry Day. Louis is more famous these days as the official tattoo artist of David Beckham, but even back in the 80's you would have to book weeks in advance to get one done.
We chatted further and then I asked Morrissey if we could take some pictures.
"Of course"
He grabbed my camera and inspected it, then set up the zoom ready for a shot. Chris and I each got pictures with him.
Then came the bitter sweet moment.
"So" he asked "what's your name?"
"Andy" I replied.
Moz put his hand on his chin, looked skywards and pondered.
"Gillespie? Andy Gillespie?"
"Yeah"
"Hmmmm" and with that he turned and walked away.
I was gobsmacked.
"Wow" said Chris "he knows who you are"
"That might not be a good thing Chris"
I speculated that he might have been offended by the content of ABF.
"Surely he can't be that sensitive" said Chris
"I'm sure he can be" I retorted.

I can never be truly sure that he was offended, 100's of Moz fans read it and loved the fact that it made fun of them, but Moz is an entirely different entity.

A few years later my friend Lori and I were at a Moz show in Thousand Oaks, we had front row seats. During the show Moz walked over and was shaking fans hands, he reached out to shake Lori's looked down, saw me, recoiled like he had just been shot and walked to the opposite side of the stage. Lori knew of my Sunset Marquis run in and blamed me for not getting to touch him, I suspect that over 10 years later she still hasn't truly forgiven me.

Casual as Fuck and other stuff.

Being a footy team started up mainly by like minded Brits, I thought it would be a novel idea to produce a team fanzine.
I have always fancied myself (as you might have already worked out) as an amateur writer and was a big fan of other footy and music fanzines. In a homage to the Inspiral Carpets "Cool as Fuck" logo I came up with "Casual as Fuck" and used Shaggy as the first Casual icon because we had so many pot smokers in our inner circle, it just seemed to fit. And so the first t-shirt and fanzine cover was born.
All the shirts I designed (usually with the help of Neil Eastwood) sold out and to this day players still ask me to make more.
The fanzines were a great format, sometimes offensive, I would also use it as my printed "soapbox" to air my views, but it was always funny, even if I do say myself.
My favourite issues were the ones featuring "grant kirkham letters" , under a pseudonym I wrote a bunch of strange and amusing letters to various people in the footy world, the responses were rare but often hilarious as the recipient was oblivious to the wind up.
The highlight of this experiment of mine was after I wrote one to Tommy Smyth at ESPN he talked about it during the live broadcast of the Champions League Semi Final between Man United and Juventus and even gave Paul Nicholl a mention saying that Newcastle United were after signing him for the FA Cup Final.
The shirts apart from the Inspiral Carpets were inspired by various things, I am a big fan of pop art/culture and "stole" ideas from that including Oasis, The Sex Pistols, The BBC, Andy Warhol, The Wedding Present, Eric Cantona, football hooligans, scouse band Cast, La Coste and many more. My literary idol Oscar Wilde once said that "Imitation was the highest form of flattery" I think he was onto something.
Anyway the above is a collection of some of the shite I produced over the years in connection to the Casuals FC.
Maybe I'll run a team again some other time and get creative again with a few more zines and footy shirts.