Our manager, Uncle Keith – known to friends and nephews as “Uncle” – has a long background in music biz. Just to give you an idea, here’s a quick look at his résumé:
early ’70s: Mick Jagger’s lipstick importer
mid-to-late ’70s: combing and mowing Robert Plant’s chest hair
february ’79: Joe Strummer’s dental hygienist
mid-80′s: Morrissey’s gardener
1989-1993: teaching Paul Weller how to tell jokes in between songs
After the turbulent and in the end completely fruitless days at the last job, he’s had a more hands-off approach. But even though his time in the limelight looks all but over, Uncle Keith is never more than a radio wave’s length away. Hear him Tuesdays on Rocket FM (95.3), “the Rockholm of stock home”.
It’s Valentine’s Day, and Markus woos and wins his girlfriend with an interesting rendition of “Seasick”.
Repertoire: “Sad Animals”, “Lucky”, “Do the Seasick”
Spot: Campus dormitory kitchen
In attendance: Nine?
A good day’s work entertaining a group of foreign exchange students at the local university, introducing our music to the people of Morocco, Spain and Iran, though the real objective of the evening – as our generous host Amir was quick to point out to us – was for us to bed one of his more persistent admirers. We’re always glad to do social function gigs.
Beneath the cobblestones of Gamla stan, in the basement of an Irish pub, Uncle Keith had gathered his closest allies and associates for a great big birthday bash. Comedians and comediennes, deejays, television personalities, children’s book authors, a former roadie of Arthur Lee – anyone who’s anyone in the murky corridors of showbiz was there to pay tribute to the great man. As were Trots, performing a batch of songs in honour of our manager, despite him getting us lousy gigs. (Wink… Wink.)
Repertoire: “Ghostbusters”, “Do the Seasick”, “Animalistic Duties”
Spot: University cafeteria
In attendance: 200
Billed as the Animal Liberation Front, wearing our trademark militia vests and robber masks, we took to the stage to the tunes of “Mary Had A Little Lamb” against a homemade backdrop showing one panda. Carnivores choked on their pork chops, vegan girls swooned, and it nearly came to blows with members of the Front of Animal Liberation, who had got wind of the gig and turned up to discredit us. After the show, we signed records and handed out pamphlets.
On a cold night a few months back, our katzes and katers gathered round the Trots family organ, resulting in this little ditty. Technically a house reworking of a song predating Trots – Markus wrote this ode to animality when he was fourteen.
(Anyone in possession of a less dreary dancing cat image will be roundly rewarded. Pictures of funny cats are hard to come by these days.)