You Been Punk'd!
THE SINGER'S a book you outta take note of, hell it's off the scale, THE PUSHER tracked down its London-based author, Cathi Unsworth to ask her about the tale, and one or two other things, kinda related . . .
The Pusher: First off, what's with the name? . . . I don't see no dude ending their name with an 'i' like Micki or sumthin!
Cathi Unsworth: But you don’t see no dude here at all, do you, Pusher? You’ve been getting high on your own supply, daddio.
TP: I betcha put those little smiley faces in yer 'O's too!
CU: Much too high on your own supply.
TP: Whoa, whoa . . . I like them, I gotta machine for puttin' them on a product a'mines.
CU: QED. You wanna lay off those things Pusherman. It don’t do to be so happy when you’ve set up for business down these Mean Streets, in the basement bar of the Heartbreak Hotel. Take some downers, please.
TP: Okay. Okay. Down to business . . . I been readin' y'book THE SINGER . . . quite a tale, lemme tell ya.
CU: It’s a decade-spanning pop culture noir epic about punk, post-punk, Hull, Camden Town, Labroke Grove, teenage kicks and mid-life crisis blues, good music, bad drugs, industry sharks and psychotic poets, Goth Ophelias and Rubber Dominatrices, the life-affirming force of music and the bloodsucking vampires of the music industry. It comes in pretty thick. You could maybe use it to keep some of your little lieutenants in line next time you’re outta phone books.
TP: I gotta ask, you ain't no punk are ya? You ain't got one of them things on y'head, looks kinda like a brush or sumthin', but like green or pink or whatever?
CU: I told you Daddio, lay off those things and take some downers. Why not just have a beer and calm down, you’re foaming at the mouth here.
TP: Okay. Now THE SINGER, I'm thinking, the idea f'the story musta' started growing in your head when you was writin' for Sounds, back in the day?
CU: Yeah, it’s been 20 years in the making, this mother. Everything that was good and everything that was bad went into it. You can be assured I have done my time going to three gigs a night busting my eardrums in the Bull and Gate and the Sir George Robey; sitting inside transit vans driving up and down rainy motorways, listening to the wisdom of roadies; drinking oceans of warm lager and eating far too much festival food to get the story the kids demanded. It’s no coincidence that my favourite bands are called Gallon Drunk, The Bad Livers and Therapy?
TP: The Not Knowing had a female lead, Diana Kemp, but The Singer's lead, Eddie, is male was that tough f'you . . . gettin' in the guy's head?
CU: No, you guys are so much easier to read than any woman. You might think you’re pretty cool and mysterious, but your one-track minds aren’t hard for us to follow. Besides, I spend most of my life watching Goodfellas, adding to my record collection, eating chilli, drinking beer, smoking and swearing — how much of a reach does it have to be?
TP: Eddie's drifting along, kinda gettin' on his girlfriend's nerves with his lack of ambition, you think that's what a lotta guys is like?
CU: You see, this is typical. One of the points of the book is how women get patronised and marginalised and treated like shit by guys who all love each other far more than their girlfriends. And straight away you are sticking up for the guy, calling me a ball-breaking bitch.
TP: Easy sistah, I ain't had a hosedown this side a'the joint! You know we dudes gotta keep together, don't you watch Trisha? Now, back on track, I dunt know much about Punk music, but I do know The Skids, I liked them, they made their mark.
CU: OK, you can start taking some more drugs now Pusherman. You need to.
TP: How about, I give ya a Punk test, Cathi?
CU: Do you feel lucky?
TP: I do. Alright. So here we go, I give ya some Punk lyrics
and you tell me who they is from:
1) “Cause I wanna be Anarchy it's the only way to be . . . ”
CU: That’s ‘A Wombling Merry Christmas’ by The Wombles.
2) “A boring job living day to day to day do something different try to break away . . .”
CU: ‘Timperly Sunset’ by Frank Sidebottom.
3) “Heal the world, make it a better place for you and for me and the entire human race . . .”
CU: ‘The Fucking Cunts Treat Us Like Pricks’ by A Flux of Pink Indians.
TP: Well, I dunno how that got in there . . . moving on. Alright. Now, I got the file on ya right here, Cathi - oh yeah, I got files on everyone - and it says you was more than just a journalist?
CU: Well, wow, you got me there Pusher, I wasn’t born in a newsroom, no sir. I’ve done some things in my time, like we all have.
TP: I know for a fact - and this ain't in my file, Irish Arty told me this - you was workin' one-time on a stall in London Town.
CU: Yes I was, and that’s how I got to see the inside of Kentish Town nick. But they had to let me go.
TP: So you was a regular Pauline Fowler, I'm right?
CU: It’ll be Murder Most Fowler if you carry on like that.
TP: But then you ran into some big time writer fellas and that got you into the biz, yeah?
CU: First I met Derek Raymond, when he was making a record with some friends of mine, James Johnston and Terry Edwards from Gallon Drunk. You know about Raymond, right? Used to run long firms for Charles Da Silva back in the day, used his Eton tie to fuck the squares outta their dues, wrote a book about it called ‘The Crust On It’s Uppers’. Then he turned himself into a Detective Sergeant on Unexplained Deaths. Changed the course of Brit noir with his Factory novels. He was the Godfather, capiche? I never thought I’d meet his sort again. But I lucked out with the Irish capo, Mr Bruen and he put it to me straight. Said I had to join his Family, write a novel, or else. And as you know yourself, we’re all one happy Family now.
TP: That's two of the best, I got to know Mr Ken Bruen some - Irish Arty has connections all over and he got me an early look-see at Ken's book, Cross, man it one killer tale . . . you read that?
CU: Of course. It was deep, dark and nasty, exactly what you want from Mr Bruen. It really fried my wig.
TP: Yeah, we like Mr Bruen he a goodfella . . . but tawkin' a'writers we like, Cathi, it's time I said thanks for the short you put up here . . . we got some good feedback from the readership! Hell, they want more - you gonna supply The Pusher?
CU: We don’t want to let the good people down do we Pusherman?
TP: Well, we gonna keep an 'i' on you Cathi! Thanks for dropping by.
CU: A pleasure. You’re a funny guy.
PUSH-UPS:
Cathi Unsworth gives The Pusher three of the best . . .
1) Martyn Waites, Bone Machine
2) Jerry Sykes, Lose This Skin
3) Stewart Home, Memphis Underground
"One of the points of the book is how women get patronised and marginalised and treated like shit by guys who all love each other far more than their girlfriends"
-- Cathi Unsworth
