The Monochrome Set were probably one of the first, and certainly on of the best, of that pick n mix bunch that are now known as postpunk bands. I bought their first single- Alphaville/ He’s Frank, in 1979 and saw them perform at Leeds's Futurama festival later that year. A big part of The Monochrome Set’s arch and angular charm is the quixotic guitar playing of Lester Square.
Last year, Lester announced that he was putting together a new LP. An instrument/ spoken word affair called Taps, with music from Lester and spoken word performances from respected writers such as Lucy O’ Brian, Nicholas Blincoe, Toby Litt, and, shockingly, me!
My yarn is entitled Killing Rock and Roll, and below is the text, if you fancy. I personally hate the sound of my own voice- I always think that I sound like James Mason when I’m more like Sue Pollard.
Anyroads, you can listen to Taps at Spotify or purchase it from Bandcamp. there’s a lot of it about!
FLASH FICTION: KILLING ROCK AND ROLL BY PAUL D. BRAZILL
Well, I blame the parents myself, I really do. I mean, calling your son Roland is more than somewhat dubious idea at the best of times- he was guaranteed to be nicknamed Rolly Polly or Swiss Roll or Roll in the Hay at school. Now, by the time Roland’s little brother burst into this mortal coil, you’d think his parents would have learned their lesson but Roland’s father – who was a few spliffs short of a Woodstock- took it upon himself to name the little tyke Roquefort because he was a fan of the stinky French cheese.
What the mother’s thoughts on this matter where I have absolutely no idea since she barely said boo to a goose. Of course, the youngest brother was also the victim of relentless teasing and bullying- even when he decided to call himself Rocky. Now, a bit like the Johnny Cash song ‘A Boy Named Sue’ the preposterous names did mean that the brothers got into a few scrapes and subsequently, in their later teens, become proper hard knocks, even working as minders for Jimmy ‘The Jewel’ Diamond who had his grubby fingers in more than a few nefarious pies. Moreover – and I have no idea where, when or why- the lads decided to call themselves Rock and Roll and developed a bit of a reputation amongst London’s grimy underworld. And things were going pretty much tickety bloody boo for the brothers. And it might have trundled along that way ad infinitum , if it hadn’t been for the bleedin’ postman.
You see, once upon a time, communities were close, even in cities like London, and everyone knew the ins and outs of eveyone’’s business- and they certainly knew the local milkman, paper lad and postie. But times changed and peoples lves became, well, more transient. Most people wouldn’t even recognise their next door neighbour if he kicked down their front door and shot them in the face with a sawn off shotgun. You see what Rock and Roll didn’t realise was that their neighbour , who was indeed a postman, was also working undercover for Mossad. He was keeping an eye on Jimmy The Jewel and all of his known associates since the old crook had been scamming the Israeli intelligence service. Not exactly an Einstein of an idea, for sure. So, the postman was eventually given orders to extinguish Jimmy The Jewel and all of his cronies, which he did with great aplomb, it must be said
But as the years have trundled on, I’ve often thought of Rock and Roll and how much easier their lives would have been of they just changed their bloody names.
© Paul D. Brazill.
Yes sir. I graduated H.S. in 1972 and had a massive vinyl collection dating back to my junior high days - the mid 60's. Slowly it dwindled, through giving them away, or selling them, or never getting back the ones I loaned out - or whatever. If I had now what I had back in '72, like many others, including you probably, I would be sitting on a musical gold mine.
"I always think that I sound like James Mason when I’m more like Sue Pollard."....another hilarious line. A beauty! And man, can I relate to sounding different than what I expect. I sound like a convict who barely made it through 7th grade.