For those of you that don’t know, I play guitar and sing in a band called Cassette Culture. We’re based out of Bristol in the UK and play fairly frequently in the local area.
One of my favourite bands is a band called the Wave Pictures.
The last few times they’ve come through Bristol we’ve been asked to support them. So once again I’m doing a bit of promo and got a little over excited and wrote my first meeting with the band in to a short story. Is it a fictionalised account? Well, as I think you’ll notice – it’s impossible to tell.
Here’s the full piece, with the promotional blurb too… obviously.
Cassette Culture will once more be sharing a stage with the Wave Pictures, a great band. Here – have a look see for yourself, a new song of theirs and everything.
Does that make you want to see them? I hope so. Luckily, you’re in luck, you lucky luckster.
The Wave Pictures are playing at the Louisiana in Bristol on 15 September, 2013.
Support comes from Let’s Kills Janice + Cassette Culture.
The door tax is £9. NINE POUNDS! Keep reading…
But, you’re in luck, luckily, you lucky bugger.
You can see the Wave Pictures for just £5! What you need to do is tweet @Andyy_P or email him on andyhprice[at]gmail[dot]com and tell him “Here’s my name! <insert name> please put me on the Wave Pictures cheaplist” and you shall be on the list . Just turn up on the night and say you’re on the cheaplist and give them your name.
Everyone wins. However, do Cassette Culture a solid and get there for 8pm – that’s our stage time because it’s a Sunday and the show finishes early.
But that’s not all – anyone that has read through the posts on this website will know I can’t resist a good story. Did you read how Cassette Culture spent their summer vacation?
This time round, I’m going to tell you another story. When Cassette Culture first met the Wave Pictures…
About two years ago Cassette Culture were asked to support the Wave Pictures in a show at the Fleece. We said, fine, okay. We can do that – put us down. So those guys at the Fleece added us to the bill.
Following this monumental treaty, there was a profound effect on the world. All wars calmed, the seas rolled back from their vicious erosion of historical coastlines, and dinosaurs ceased their bellows. A man at the time who looked around 124 commented on the sudden calm – comparing it to Christmas 1914, when German and English soldiers rose from the trenches to take part in a mutual truce and to take part in a game of football.
He noted the differences of course. That the war was over, that German’s were now extinct, and that one of the most devastating side effects of the calm was that the internal air pressure of every football on the planet found itself out of balance due to the reduction in the vibration of oxygen molecules due to the calm. They all exploded.
Of course, all the footballs left in factories, yet to be inflated, were immune – but the sheer aural force that came from the simultaneous explosion of almost 780 million footballs meant that each uninflated football imploded in on itself leaving minor systematic black holes in their place. Not only did this lead to chronic deafness amongst 85% of the global population, it also resulted in all football manufacturers’ factories and surrounding warehouses being sucked into those black holes. Industrial estates continue to slowly disappear to this day leaving millions out of work and a crippled global economy, something which is often passed off as the fault of bankers – an obvious scapegoat to the heroic work of Adidas.
However, Cassette Culture was in luck. The remaining population of Bristol that were either still in work, or retained their hearing purchased tickets to the show leading to an almost sell-out crowd at the Fleece.
As we loaded in at 6.30pm (about 10 past 7 in real terms), we bumped into Johnny ‘Huddersfield’ Helm of the Wave Pictures. “Hi, Johnny!” I said enthusiastically. “We’re Cassette Culture, and we are your support band for the evening!”
“But it’s just you,” he said. “there’s no one else to justify the ‘we’.”
“Correct,” I retorted. “You are highly astute,” I continued, before pausing, and then continuing. “Luke and Kim are late. Ha, Bloody drummers!” I insinuated, as if to say that all drummers are late, forgetting for a second that he was one of them. I was also aware that Kim plays bass. I guess I just chose to leave her out of the joke – I’m guessing he would have understood this thought process, and she’s only the bass player anyway.
“You have two drummers?” he replied.
Bloody drummers, I thought. “Yes, Johnny,” I countered, handing him a Mars bar as you would an obese child.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome,” I added.
“I said you’re welcome.”
“Sorry, I lost my hearing during the football explosion,” said Johnny. “I can’t hear a damned thing.”
“But we just had a whole conversation” I pointed out, exposing him for the liar he was. He didn’t respond, seemingly unable to hear my words. Bloody drummers, I thought.
The anticipation for the show was high. I was mildly ecstatic to meet a Wave Picture, having only met previously a visual representation of a mildy choppy lake. And that was almost ten years ago now.
I was only 11. My parents had taken me to Cornwall for the summer holidays. I spent every day out at sea, riding the waves, eating ice creams, learning the local lingo. But every time I went to take a photo of the sea, so I could forever remember my first encounter with a wave, captured forever in a picture, a figure, about five foot six, dressed in shorts and a balaclava would rush past me and snatch the camera from my hands before throwing it far out to sea. I got through 17 cameras on that holiday. The most traumatising 3 days of my life. They were only disposables though, so it wasn’t that much more than a minor expensive looking back. There was the inconvenience though, of course.
On the fourteenth time this happened, I chased after the figure in shorts and a balaclava. Did I mention he was wearing flip flops? No? Good, because he wasn’t wearing flip flops, he was wearing flippers. They looked like he’d chiselled them out of a rich mahogany and they clunked on the beach like wood on sand as he bounded away.
Naturally I was able to catch up with him. I was lithe, and he was wearing wood on his feet. Why I hadn’t tried to chase him down before I have no idea, it seemed so easy now.
“Hey!” I shouted as I caught him, ripping the balaclava off his face.
“You can’t take pictures man, you can’t take ‘em.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, before realising who it was. My god, I contemplated. It’s Johnny ‘Huddersfield’ Helm. Of the Wave Pictures.
“Oh, I guess I had met a Wave Picture before,” I said. “I guess this flashback was unnecessary, or at best negligible.”
“Well I can’t disagree with that,” said Johnny, pulling up his shorts that had unfortunately fallen down during a mild scuffle that I’d previously not mentioned had occurred. “It cost me £30 to get the bus down here, Andy,” he said, as if he was the only man to ever meet an inconvenience.
“You should have flown,” I offered.
“Cornwall doesn’t have an airport,” he replied.
“I’m not so sure about that, I imagine it probably has somewhat of an airstrip, but regardless I meant with your arms.”
“I see,” he replied.
“Like a bird,” I argued.
“Was that really ten years ago,” said Johnny as I ceased my flashback and returned my gaze from somewhere in the distance back to his face standing in the middle of the Fleece.
I didn’t reply. Because right at that very moment, in walked Luke and Kim, of Cassette Culture, and David and Franic, of the Wave Pictures. “Oh, Johnny – this is Luke and Kim,” I said.
“And this is David and Franic,” he replied.
“Hey,” said Luke.
“Alright, said David.
“How you doing,” said Kim.
“Yeah good,” replied Franic.
“So, have a good show I guess guys,” I said.
“Yeah, you too – I wish this conversation could have ended on a little bit more of an exciting tone,” said Johnny.
“Yeah. Me too. Me too.”
And that was the last we saw of Kim.