Mr. Sippy - Chronicles of Hoarsebox Week 2

Monday: Set up the gear in the studio that night upon returning from New Orleans. Tuesday: Worked on “Add it up.” We are in the main studio, positioned in a tribal circle with our instruments. Dennis leads the musical seance with a drum machine we call Space Monkey. Space Monkey wants Max’s job, it’s actually worse than that. It’s kind of Single White Female as Max had mentioned that he wanted to get himself a hair cut, a proper mohawk, and the next day Space Monkey was there with the oddest looking Mohawk you’ve ever seen on a drum machine. Dennis keeps him in line though and makes him work hard making deadly beats. “Add it up” is working really well and we’re happy. Wednesday: “Up” and “My grey pilot” get a good reworking. Our music will now alienate all the old people who like us but make our young target audience want to give us things like money and attention and praise and ten penny bags. Works for us. “Up” is all early 90’s Hip-Hop/R’n’B,  a la PM Dawn...”Ah ha ha, haaah, hah, I know this, much is, true-oo.”Dennis is breathing lots of life into the music and bringing out what’s best about what we do...well,  he’d better f*cking be, WHA?!!! Thursday: “I won’t worry” is next on the block. It gets its flares chopped off and is given a fancy “New Rave” grey scarf with flurescent colourdy splatters to wear when watching Skins on E4. It’s a euphoric dance number now with pretty melodies and an outro that’s leave pill-headz killing each other for the last drop of water in the house. Friday: “This Club” sheds it’s Katrina and the Waves face for a little more honky-tonk, handclap extravaganza. If you’re going to party, you might as well get the clap. It sounds great and has buckets of energy. Space monkey was off trying on Max’s underpants on the sly so the lads got to clap their hands and sing without being creeped out by his quite obvious attempts to kill Max. A few days later on Valentine’s day, Max awoke to find all his socks chopped up and glued together in the shape of a heart and a note reading, “walk a mile in my shoes, push my buttons  like I love you, turn me on and you’ll know my power...1...0....1...0....0...1....0....1....1.....1.....0.....Lot’s of love, a secret admirer monkey.” We just confronted him about it and he felt stupid so all that seems to have blown over. Let’s be professional about this Space Monkey. We’re all after the same goal. Chicks and floppy discs. Saturday: Our day off was spent doing very little. Johnny swam, Phil went to the barber’s next to the studio to get a wee trim and listen to the old lads, who were pretty much exactly like the lads from “Coming to America,” talk about their fear of flying and of boats. Barber: “WHAT? You ain’t never been on a boat?” Gent #1: “Hell no, I can’t drink that much water!” Philip looked dapper and had cleary laughed his hair off. Kieran and Max stayed home and pampered themselves by doing nothing. They hung around the house in their pygamas, eating marshmallows and telling each other secrets. Apparently Kieran fancies Miley Cyrus. Max is going to tell her.....when we win our grammy for Best New Song by a foursome in a supporting sausage roll. We struck a deal with Parrish’s Bar to play a set in exchange for beef stew and beer. That way we could test drive the newly reworked tunes in front of a clueless audience. We played some old songs and old people danced. We played some new songs and the young people danced. Simple. Although at that stage everyone was blotto and would probably have danced to the sound of ants crawling through their brains. Anyway, went to a party and were popular for a couple of hours signing some of our songs, then some classicly destroyed  covers like Beyonce’s “Crazy in love” and Peter Gabriel’s “Sledge Hammer,” but were asked to leave once we started doing our now infamous 90’s medly. “All that she wants is another baby...return of the mac...informer, ya no si de de ma deiiiiya, a lick ya boom boom down...!!!” Back to the house with some fun people, someone did the splits, human oreo sandwiches, Cameo’s “Candy,” Max bumped and ground until the lactic acid built up in his thighs and he had to be subbed off, lots of Budweiser, gospel singing and other other blah. Bed. Sunday: Johnny and Phil somehow got up earlyish and went into town for breakfast. They looked like zombie extras from Thriller wandering around looking for brains for brekky. Kieran woke Max up so he could fall down drunk in the shower. Subway sandwiches. Studio. Water, camomile tea, water, wee wee, water, camomile tea, wee wee...worked on “You lie, you get more.” Space Monkey saw that Max was struggling so he gave him a hug and told him to sit in the corner and enjoy singing the song while he took over drumming duties. Max got excited and just danced. Fun. The song sounds great. Dinner at Taylor. Fried catfish, fried chicken and fried shrimp. We did have small salads...good effort.  Good day’s work too.  Happy Valentine’s day.

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