eyes pulsing with hangover madness

So tell me, how did monism2000 come about I asked as Bertie reached for his cigarettes. Bertie explained that we are not here to discuss this solo project and left it at that. Then it all went uncomfortably cold, for me anyway. Bertie brushed it off, as he turned round to listen to the latest work related escapade from his mate in the corner. The rest of the evening gets sketchy.

I recall leaving the pub and making our way round to Bertie’s house. There was a bit of ‘nosebag’ laid on, that is to say a buffet had been prepared. I helped myself to cheese, sausage and pineapple on a cocktail stick combo’s, the various crisps left out in bowls of which you had to try them to find the flavour and a large amount of half bun sandwiches. But, the killer was the booze. There was a large amount of booze. Mostly larger based booze but still lots of booze. And a copious amount was drunk.

I have a vague recollection of a quiz, which seemed a bit odd for a house party but was fun nonetheless. I got the feeling that all of those in attendance knew each other really well. A group that would meet regularly and have the same stories to share. I remember collating a large amount of childhood stories about Bertie from people who had known him since he was a child but then sadly I lost the notebook. At least I think I lost it. I have certainly not ruled out the potential for sabotage but then again I could have been messing with the future of one of Britain’s musical greats. I would not have been able to live with myself had I inadvertently brought mONKEYs fOREHEAd to its knees.

My next memory was waking up on the settee to see one of mONKEYs fOREHEAd’s friends’ stirring near the fire, which had been left on all night. He appeared to wake like an animal, cold from hibernation, slowly and subconsciously made his way to the warm place and fell back to sleep. It was at that moment, through eyes pulsing with hangover madness that I surveyed my surroundings. Soon mONKEYs fOREHEAd will be too big to live in a suburban street. Screaming fans will be at their every door. Their anonymity will be ripped open at every place they seek solace. I looked over at Skinny Boy as he rested his party burned head. Sleep a good sleep for soon you will…and at that very point, he let out the loudest fart I have heard in a long time. They are humans after all.

breaking through the underground

I returned from the bar on my third occasion in a row having bought a round. I was of course chastised for not being able to carry more than three pints in my ‘kiddie hands’ as Bertie called them. I was able to manoeuvre myself to get a seat that allowed me to face mONKEYs fOREHEAd. From this position I turned on the tape recorder and just hoped it would pick up the pure, unadulterated brilliance in vocal form that I was about to transfer to cassette tape.

“So what does the future hold for mONKEYs fOREHEAd?” I sat and waited for Bertie to complete the lengthy draw on his cigarette.

“Dunno” he answered.

“What did you say?” asked Skinny Boy who was attempting to breathe out smoke without it going in his eyes by slightly tilting his head. Bertie stubbed out his cigarette and glugged about a third of his pint. He let out a loud and somewhat impressive belch and then leaned forward.

“If mONKEYs fOREHEAd had the same level of motivation we have as both talent and drive we would be pushing for the stars. However, as with any creative’s you sometimes find your self stuck looking at the stars when you should be walking among them…as stars. You know what I mean?” I sat in disbelief. This guy could inspire the most inspirational.

“What did he say?” added Skinny Boy.

“Do you ever see yourselves as stars in the public eye? Breaking through the underground,” I asked. Bertie lit another cigarette and paused in thought.

“Our creations aren’t born, they are created. We can sit staring at a screen for hours and then Skinny will just play a couple of notes at the high end of the keyboard, coz that’s the end he usually sits at. Then I will do like a bass line at the low end of the keyboard. Coz that’s the end I sit at. It will then just melt together and perfection will form. A creation will be born”. Again, Bertie drifted off and I sat feeling as though I had missed another crucial moment to explore this mind. He could pull quotes from the air like God created stars.

Unperturbed I pushed for more information regarding a solo project of his called monism2000 and the six-track ep he created. So, I asked, where did monism2000 begin?

genius with this ability is rare

I have found that a Bertie is not to be taken literally or with frequent seriousness. A Bertie is touched by true greatness, which as such, can manifest in rapid topic changes, arguments over minor infractions and a vocal speed to rival a horseracing commentator on speed. This Bertie, who opens up with booze like an increasingly hungry clam, once told me that he thinks a lot faster than he can speak or indeed write. With alcohol-loosened lips, this is accentuated and affects his topics of conversation. I have found it easier to tape record him and attempt to decode his prose later in my office.

Skinny Boy on the other hand is exactly the same. Although he does appear quieter around strangers, he too can be easier to pry open than a well-thumbed porno mag when he is soaked with lager. This, in my opinion, is what makes mONKEYs fOREHEAd gel together. When their surroundings are challenged as was the case this New Years Eve they make no attempt to rationalise the situation. At no point did I hear either of them console the other with the fact that this is a once a year occurrence. When listening to them you would have thought someone had opened their grandmother’s grave and laid a man egg in the coffin. Their ability to feed each other is the foundation of their greatness. Without this, they would have never created mONKEYs fOREHEAd.

As the friends of mONKEYs fOREHEAd began to join them, I found it increasingly difficult to monitor what the main thread of the conversation was. It was only later in my office when I deciphered the tape did I realise that amongst the average of seven individuals, fourteen separate conversations were being maintained at any one time. I found this utterly remarkable and was at last beginning to piece together what makes mONKEYs fOREHEAd work. If they attempted to take on just one more solitary task, they would have forgotten to breathe. Genius with this ability is rare. My new mission was going to be tough. I am going to have to get mONKEYs fOREHEAd to stay on one point for more than 3 minutes. Mission accepted.

new years heave

The one thing that I found really annoyed Bertie was…well, I say one thing, there are a number of things that annoy him but the one thing that springs to mind right now is his utter detestation for paying for something that should usually be free. The classic example of this is the local pub that has the audacity to charge an entry fee to a place that is ordinarily free 364 days and 19 hours of the year. However, not when it is New Years Eve. It was due to this that Bertie was the advocator of the local till they charge then all round mine. So this we did.

I was suitably impressed with Bertie’s self-control for the early hours in that he impressively paced himself. The night was pretty much like any other only with a feasibly large amount of people standing around but I am jumping ahead.

It was of course a no-brainer that we would need get to the pub early to get the corner seat. I found it difficult to interview MF on the short walk to the pub as Bertie was clearly demonstrating the hastily paced walk of a man on a mission. A mission to get a chair at the same table that housed MF for the last number of uncountable years. But this time there was a challenger. A challenger in the increased numbers of New Years Eve revellers. This was the annual fight Bertie was prepared for. And with the timing of a fine Swiss timepiece, the mission was accomplished.

So the usual routine ensued. One to the bar, the others to the table to carry out any necessary adjustments to the layout that the non-locals just wouldn’t understand. Following this, the seating was sat on, the beer mats had beer glasses put on and the cigarettes and mobile phones were placed lovingly on the table. They had landed, again.

Once the pints were supped with perfect synchrony, the smoke tinged air sucked across teeth in appreciation and the pint glass parked perfectly central on the beer mat (something that I noticed was often adjusted with micro-precision) MF sat back in their seats and looked around the room. This is the precise moment the beer clear heads will speak rational thoughts and give clear opinions on those around them. Alternatively, as Bertie opened up “half these fuckers wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t New Years Eve”. At this point, I pulled out my notepad, clicked the nib out of its Parker shelter and prepared to start taking notes.

a dark age

And, sure enough, in true mONKEYs fOREHEAd fashion, they disappeared off the face of the earth for over seven months. Nevertheless, to be honest, being around their greatness did become somewhat overwhelming and my editor retracted me from the job until I recovered fully. I did not officially document what happened to me over the last seven months or anyone around me that I am aware. This became the dark ages of mONKEYs fOREHEAd. A dark age that only now am I ready to shed some light on.

The last I remember was sitting in the local pub of mONKEYs fOREHEAd around the Christmas period. It was the happiest of times, it was the…well you get the idea. Bertie was renowned for not being a man who would be sat in the bar with free hands. They would either be holding the glass for drinking or holding the cigarette for smoking. With no ties to bind, he would drink and drink and drink. It was not uncommon for him to finish the pints of those around him who would be ‘taking on water’ as he put it and thus unable to finish their own drinks before last orders.

Bertie confided in me quite loudly across the faces of the speaking others that he would hit a state of panic if he had finished his drink and was unable to purchase another at the bar. Therefore, two resolves that are more manageable were concocted. Firstly, a number of years ago a good friend of his would keep what he called ‘Bertie’s emergency fiver’ in his wallet. This was simply a five-pound note held in reserve for the inevitable moment when Bertie ran out of money just before last orders and then invariably ran out of drink. Bertie would borrow and immediately spend the said emergency fiver but always pay it back at the end of the night. In addition, of course, the paid back fiver went back into the friend’s wallet for next time.

With Skinny Boy, a new approach was adopted. Whilst Bertie was known as the drinker, Skinny Boy was known as the dodger. Closer towards the end of an evening Skinny Boy would stop buying himself a drink during his round and play catch up. However, the drinking buddies would continue to buy him drinks thus resulting in a ‘boozer buffer’. This was a buffer Bertie was very happy to assist in the clearing of.

As I sit and write this, what is coming back to me in drips and drabs is the new years eve of last year. How I wish I had still forgotten it.