Auntie Pus is a name that not many will be
familiar with, but for a small following, he is regarded with a genuine
fondness. First emerging onto a public stage during the early days of Punk
Rock, Auntie forged an erratic career with equally erratic performances and
received much of his exposure touring with his friends in The Damned and The
Ruts. He released only one 7” single back at the time, the legendary ‘Halfway
to Venezuela’,
before gradually disappearing from public view, although he has recently
re-emerged in various guises to charm the faithful once again.
Having met him briefly when he played at the 12 Bar last year, we finally arrange a telephone interview,and at last, it’s time to recount the True Tales of Auntie Pus…
You’ve become known as the Public School Punk Rock Balladeer… the story goes that you were actually thrown-out of a Public School…
‘I was expelled from a Public School, that’s right. Since I’ve been doing this kinda come-back, I’ve been using that ‘Public School Punk Balladeer’ tag, but it was the Sunday Mirror who first called me a Public School Punk and it was my first manager, David Scott, who gave me the moniker of the Punk Balladeer. I’ve just been sticking those two things together lately, but I was never really a Punk Rocker and never have been. I just wrote these weird kinda Syd Barrett-y, off the wall songs, and Punk Rock gave a license to people who were doing weird, different things. I wasn’t really a Punk Rocker, nor did I know much about it, other than my old mucker Chris Millar was in this band called The Damned who were quite famous. I mean, I never saw the Pistols or anything. I’d heard a couple of records and read some of the press, but mainly just about The Damned, because my old mate was playing with them and I was intrigued by it. Funnily enough, me and Rat had made a bet at one point that one of us would have a record in the Top Ten within three years… it was just a joke, really, for a tenner or something, but then he won it within nine months ! I couldn’t believe it really. But, anyway… David Scott got me my first gig with The Damned at Hastings Pier. That was through him promoting a gig for them and then chatting to Rat and finding out that he already knew me. The gig came up and I didn’t have a clue of how to dress-up. I’d always been a bit theatrical and a bit of a performer… that’s why I always liked The Damned. I mean, people would knock them say they were a bit of a Vaudeville band, but I think that’s what made them great ! That’s what made them wonderful in my eyes ! So I looked at these pictures, you know, Captain in his nurses’ uniform, Vanian looking very gothic, and I thought, maybe I should wear my old junior school uniform, which I could still just about squeeze into, with my quiff coming out on top of it. And that sorta caught on. The only reason it didn’t catch on anymore was because I wasn’t focused enough, really.’
Was it after you got expelled that you went to another school and met Rat…
‘No, I knew him already… I got expelled from a Public School in Wimbledon, and then went to a Comprehensive in Putney, and I went there because I already knew Rat and a couple of other dear friends. There were two brothers who were in a band at the time, one on guitar, the other on bass and Chris on drums. When I got kicked out of Public School, there weren’t many other schools that would’ve had me, but this one was local, plus some of my mates who were already in bands went there, you know, so that’s why I went there. In fact, I think Rat actually left the school around the same time I started, but the other guys were still around and I also met Arthur (Arturo Bassick) while I was there. I was a bit of an armchair Socialist and I used to knock around with these lads in the Young Communist League. One of them told me about Arthur and said he reckoned we’d get along because he’d also been expelled from his previous school. So I met him, we really got on well, and we still do.’
Having met him briefly when he played at the 12 Bar last year, we finally arrange a telephone interview,and at last, it’s time to recount the True Tales of Auntie Pus…
You’ve become known as the Public School Punk Rock Balladeer… the story goes that you were actually thrown-out of a Public School…
‘I was expelled from a Public School, that’s right. Since I’ve been doing this kinda come-back, I’ve been using that ‘Public School Punk Balladeer’ tag, but it was the Sunday Mirror who first called me a Public School Punk and it was my first manager, David Scott, who gave me the moniker of the Punk Balladeer. I’ve just been sticking those two things together lately, but I was never really a Punk Rocker and never have been. I just wrote these weird kinda Syd Barrett-y, off the wall songs, and Punk Rock gave a license to people who were doing weird, different things. I wasn’t really a Punk Rocker, nor did I know much about it, other than my old mucker Chris Millar was in this band called The Damned who were quite famous. I mean, I never saw the Pistols or anything. I’d heard a couple of records and read some of the press, but mainly just about The Damned, because my old mate was playing with them and I was intrigued by it. Funnily enough, me and Rat had made a bet at one point that one of us would have a record in the Top Ten within three years… it was just a joke, really, for a tenner or something, but then he won it within nine months ! I couldn’t believe it really. But, anyway… David Scott got me my first gig with The Damned at Hastings Pier. That was through him promoting a gig for them and then chatting to Rat and finding out that he already knew me. The gig came up and I didn’t have a clue of how to dress-up. I’d always been a bit theatrical and a bit of a performer… that’s why I always liked The Damned. I mean, people would knock them say they were a bit of a Vaudeville band, but I think that’s what made them great ! That’s what made them wonderful in my eyes ! So I looked at these pictures, you know, Captain in his nurses’ uniform, Vanian looking very gothic, and I thought, maybe I should wear my old junior school uniform, which I could still just about squeeze into, with my quiff coming out on top of it. And that sorta caught on. The only reason it didn’t catch on anymore was because I wasn’t focused enough, really.’
Was it after you got expelled that you went to another school and met Rat…
‘No, I knew him already… I got expelled from a Public School in Wimbledon, and then went to a Comprehensive in Putney, and I went there because I already knew Rat and a couple of other dear friends. There were two brothers who were in a band at the time, one on guitar, the other on bass and Chris on drums. When I got kicked out of Public School, there weren’t many other schools that would’ve had me, but this one was local, plus some of my mates who were already in bands went there, you know, so that’s why I went there. In fact, I think Rat actually left the school around the same time I started, but the other guys were still around and I also met Arthur (Arturo Bassick) while I was there. I was a bit of an armchair Socialist and I used to knock around with these lads in the Young Communist League. One of them told me about Arthur and said he reckoned we’d get along because he’d also been expelled from his previous school. So I met him, we really got on well, and we still do.’
What sort of things influenced you when you
started playing your own music ?
‘Well, there’s lots of things I was into, but I’m not really sure if they came out in my music. Hendrix was my biggest thing, ever since I ever bought ‘Smashed Hits’. In fact, I was recently going to a gig in a car, and the young bloke who was driving was playing ‘Smashed Hits’ as he drove. I was telling him, ‘This is great, I know every note on it ! This was the first album I ever owned !’ I can really say I enjoy it as much now as I did when I first bought a copy, so what does that say for the album ? But having said that, I don’t think any of that music came out in my playing. Syd Barrett was a big influence, definitely. Although when I listen to his records now, I realise that he wasn’t as arrhythmic as I used to think he was… but he was wonderful and I adore those records. It was really people from that genre that I got into and who probably influenced me. Kevin Ayers as well, things like Soft Machine, Henry Cow… although again, they probably didn’t reflect so much in my music, maybe the lyrics ? I also loved Nick Drake, but I don’t think my music was influenced by him at all, and I adored Caravan, but I don’t think they came out in my stuff, even though I loved their lyrics. I was also influenced by writers like William Burroughs… in fact, when I went to University, I did a critical theory essay on Language & Media and I wrote all about Virus and the Discourse of Addiction, even using some of his cut-up technique… I got some good marks for that ! But, you know, music you enjoy doesn’t necessarily influence what you do, but it can still inspire you to do something of your own.’
How did you end up with the name ‘Auntie Pus’… it was hardly destined for commercial success ?
‘I started getting called ‘Auntie’ just after I’d left school. We used to talk in opposites all the time, you know, ‘My friend’s moved into an attic downstairs’… things like that, just nonsense really. One of my mates had a son who was born in 1975 and when the boy was starting to talk, he’d say things like ‘Say hello to your Auntie Jools’. So it eventually became my name in the boozer and whatever… Then it moved on to early 1977 and I was filling-in the forms for a contest and me and my mate Rick Green were smoking a joint thinking-up all these names like ‘Auntie Sick’ or ‘Auntie Shit’, you know, all these stupid things, and suddenly he shouted out ‘Auntie Pus’ and that was it ! I just thought it had a definite ring to it, so that’s what went on the form.’
You became quite involved with The Damned over the next few years, was that mainly because you already knew Rat ?
‘Well, to start with, as I was saying, it was just one of those serendipitous coincidences. David Scott, who was managing me, was also promoting their gig at Hastings Pier, and vaguely knew in the back of his mind that I knew Rat. He was chatting to Rat, asked if I could support, and he said ‘Yeah !’ Although, as it turned out, I only did the one gig with them at that time, because Rat left them quite soon afterwards. Although I did do a little show supporting the Heartbreakers at the Vortex, with him and my bass player… that was just after Rat had left the Damned and was forming the White Cats. I didn’t get to do anything else with them until The Doomed tour in 1978. That was my first experience on tour with them… all of the tours were horrendous, but that one in France really was the worst. That was Algy’s first tour with them… he’d already been in The Saints, but he was still only 19. He’d done very well for himself, but they were outrageous ! I remember going to Rock On Records in Camden to meet them with Trigger (Rick Rogers) and from the moment I walked in the office, they just didn’t stop. In fact, they didn’t ease-up until Rat and Algy got arrested after the Cattle Market gig in Le Havre and were incarcerated overnight… Then Captain quietened down a bit, played a game of pinball with me, and he told me that he had this admiration for me because of all the stuff I’d put up with over the past few days ! I think we got thrown-out of five hotels in four days ! Two different hotels threw us out on the first night of the tour, then one each night over the next three days… I remember watching Vanian swinging on the curtains in Paris. We were supposed to be staying in three twin rooms, but it turned out to be this dormitory with six beds in it. It was a lovely room with a balcony overlooking a fancy old, Parisian street, but we were like, ‘We’re not staying here !’ I can’t remember who it was, either Rat or Captain, grabbed a big, upright chair and it went straight through the French windows and out onto the balcony… People often assume that Vanian was the quiet member in the band, but that wasn’t always the case. Actually, he used to do these great Hitler impressions… he’d comb his quiff forward into a forelock and put the comb over his upper lip and do these great impressions ! He was often the quiet one because Laurie used to come on tour, you see. But she wasn’t on that French tour… Actually, I remember getting thrown out of another hotel, in Leicester or Sheffield, I think… it was -4.00 in the morning and we’re getting back on the tour bus, and I sit down next to Laurie, who was looking as immaculate as always – as did Dave, come to that. And I vividly remember saying to her, ‘You poor girl, how do you put up with this ?’ And she just looked at me and said, ‘How do I put up with it ? How do you put up with it !!!’
‘Well, there’s lots of things I was into, but I’m not really sure if they came out in my music. Hendrix was my biggest thing, ever since I ever bought ‘Smashed Hits’. In fact, I was recently going to a gig in a car, and the young bloke who was driving was playing ‘Smashed Hits’ as he drove. I was telling him, ‘This is great, I know every note on it ! This was the first album I ever owned !’ I can really say I enjoy it as much now as I did when I first bought a copy, so what does that say for the album ? But having said that, I don’t think any of that music came out in my playing. Syd Barrett was a big influence, definitely. Although when I listen to his records now, I realise that he wasn’t as arrhythmic as I used to think he was… but he was wonderful and I adore those records. It was really people from that genre that I got into and who probably influenced me. Kevin Ayers as well, things like Soft Machine, Henry Cow… although again, they probably didn’t reflect so much in my music, maybe the lyrics ? I also loved Nick Drake, but I don’t think my music was influenced by him at all, and I adored Caravan, but I don’t think they came out in my stuff, even though I loved their lyrics. I was also influenced by writers like William Burroughs… in fact, when I went to University, I did a critical theory essay on Language & Media and I wrote all about Virus and the Discourse of Addiction, even using some of his cut-up technique… I got some good marks for that ! But, you know, music you enjoy doesn’t necessarily influence what you do, but it can still inspire you to do something of your own.’
How did you end up with the name ‘Auntie Pus’… it was hardly destined for commercial success ?
‘I started getting called ‘Auntie’ just after I’d left school. We used to talk in opposites all the time, you know, ‘My friend’s moved into an attic downstairs’… things like that, just nonsense really. One of my mates had a son who was born in 1975 and when the boy was starting to talk, he’d say things like ‘Say hello to your Auntie Jools’. So it eventually became my name in the boozer and whatever… Then it moved on to early 1977 and I was filling-in the forms for a contest and me and my mate Rick Green were smoking a joint thinking-up all these names like ‘Auntie Sick’ or ‘Auntie Shit’, you know, all these stupid things, and suddenly he shouted out ‘Auntie Pus’ and that was it ! I just thought it had a definite ring to it, so that’s what went on the form.’
You became quite involved with The Damned over the next few years, was that mainly because you already knew Rat ?
‘Well, to start with, as I was saying, it was just one of those serendipitous coincidences. David Scott, who was managing me, was also promoting their gig at Hastings Pier, and vaguely knew in the back of his mind that I knew Rat. He was chatting to Rat, asked if I could support, and he said ‘Yeah !’ Although, as it turned out, I only did the one gig with them at that time, because Rat left them quite soon afterwards. Although I did do a little show supporting the Heartbreakers at the Vortex, with him and my bass player… that was just after Rat had left the Damned and was forming the White Cats. I didn’t get to do anything else with them until The Doomed tour in 1978. That was my first experience on tour with them… all of the tours were horrendous, but that one in France really was the worst. That was Algy’s first tour with them… he’d already been in The Saints, but he was still only 19. He’d done very well for himself, but they were outrageous ! I remember going to Rock On Records in Camden to meet them with Trigger (Rick Rogers) and from the moment I walked in the office, they just didn’t stop. In fact, they didn’t ease-up until Rat and Algy got arrested after the Cattle Market gig in Le Havre and were incarcerated overnight… Then Captain quietened down a bit, played a game of pinball with me, and he told me that he had this admiration for me because of all the stuff I’d put up with over the past few days ! I think we got thrown-out of five hotels in four days ! Two different hotels threw us out on the first night of the tour, then one each night over the next three days… I remember watching Vanian swinging on the curtains in Paris. We were supposed to be staying in three twin rooms, but it turned out to be this dormitory with six beds in it. It was a lovely room with a balcony overlooking a fancy old, Parisian street, but we were like, ‘We’re not staying here !’ I can’t remember who it was, either Rat or Captain, grabbed a big, upright chair and it went straight through the French windows and out onto the balcony… People often assume that Vanian was the quiet member in the band, but that wasn’t always the case. Actually, he used to do these great Hitler impressions… he’d comb his quiff forward into a forelock and put the comb over his upper lip and do these great impressions ! He was often the quiet one because Laurie used to come on tour, you see. But she wasn’t on that French tour… Actually, I remember getting thrown out of another hotel, in Leicester or Sheffield, I think… it was -4.00 in the morning and we’re getting back on the tour bus, and I sit down next to Laurie, who was looking as immaculate as always – as did Dave, come to that. And I vividly remember saying to her, ‘You poor girl, how do you put up with this ?’ And she just looked at me and said, ‘How do I put up with it ? How do you put up with it !!!’
You played with The Damned during several
tours between 1978-79, and then also became involved with The Ruts. Did you
meet them through your involvement with The Damned ?
‘Yeah, there was one gig at The Friars in Aylesbury, I think, but we didn’t really talk too much there. But then just as ‘Babylon’s Burning’ was coming out, one of the things that really broke The Ruts was the tour they did supporting The Damned… that was the one with the infamous horse manure incident. I was also on the tour and I ended up really getting on with The Ruts and spent a lot of time with them. The last night of the tour was in Bristol and I did a short rock’n’roll set with Shanne from the Nipple Erectors playing bass and Ruffy playing drums… We drove back to London and The Damned were all pissed and rowing all the way, and when I got back to London, I was supposed to be staying at my bail-address, which was Arthurs’ place, but of course I’d skipped bail to do the tour. So I just figured that I’d go back there, get up at 6.30 in the morning to go and score some gear. But unfortunately, at 6.00, the Police turned up. Obviously, they had nothing else to do, so they got the old Warrants out of the drawer at Earls Court nick and popped around. So I ended up inside for a while… I was at Brixton for a couple of weeks and then got taken to Pentonville. Within a couple of days of being there, I got chatting to a couple of people and when they asked what I did, they were saying, Oh, you’re a punk rocker ! We had another one of them in here the other week… And it turned out that it was just after Hugh Cornwell had been inside. But, anyway, three months later, it turned out that ‘Babylon’s Burning’ had charted and was doing really well. When I got out, I ended up in another spot of bother fairly quickly and was in the same situation again, so I thought, I need to do something about this. I knew The Ruts were on tour, so I decided to go and see them, thinking at least that would take up a couple of days. I got a bus to Victoria and sold a couple of electric drills that I’d acquired from Woolworths to an Evening Standard seller at the Coach Station. Then I went into WHSmiths, bought a Melody Maker and looked up where The Ruts were playing. They were due to play in Nottingham so I bought a ticket for the next coach. Once I got there, I talked the Security man into letting me backstage so when they came back from their soundcheck, I was sitting in their dressing room, thinking, I hope they’re pleased to see me after all this aggro I’ve been through ! I was worried that they’d just say, ‘Hello Pus’, and then ignore me, because I’d come a really long way and god knows what I was going to do if I ended up stuck in Nottingham with no money ! But they were delighted to see me and insisted that I came out and played a couple of numbers to introduce them at the gig. So I did that, they gave me some beer and it was all great. At the end, they all went in a huddle and Ruffy, who was always the kinda spokesman, came and said, ‘Do you want to go on the rest of the tour with us ?’ Of course, I was up for it, so he said, well, we won’t be horrible to you like The Damned are, you can share our rider every night and we’ll give you a fiver every day so you can buy your own lunch, and we’ll figure out a way for you to share one of the hotel rooms… I thought that was brilliant ! They didn’t make me lay on the floor of the van so they could spit on me or stuff like that, we’d just smoke joints and tell jokes. It was just fun, really, a breath of fresh air after The Damned ! I mean, I’d been getting abused all day and all night, really. On stage, that was a different thing, because I was deliberately going out onstage knowing that could happen with the audience… I wasn’t going to do the old Billy Idol thing, you know, ‘if you don’t stop gobbing we’re going to walk offstage…’ That never does you any favours, so I’d just do funny things like going onstage with a cardboard box over my head. There were ways to do things with it to make it into part of the theatre. But being made to lay on the floor in the van and being spat-on doesn’t do much for anyone’s confidence or self-respect !’
The ‘Halfway to Venezuela’ single was recorded some time before it was released, wasn’t it ?
‘I recorded it in 1978, David Scott paid for it, before that Doomed tour, but he didn’t have a label or anything at that time to put it out on. But he did take it to a lot of majors for me, bless him… In fact, he even took it to Robertsons Jam, to try to tie it in with the b-side, ‘Marmalade Freak’. He arranged to see the Board of Robertsons Jam at 9.00 on a Monday morning, and they showed him into an office with a long, polished walnut table, with crystal decanters around at, and then these toffs came-in wearing their suits. David got out his little, portable cassette player and said ‘Good Morning, gentlemen ! It’s like this, that golliwog on your jars, you need to get rid of that and put my boy on there, instead !’ Then he played them the cassette to show them what I sounded like, and they called Security to show him the door ! But it was a brave move… he did try, but it didn’t happen, and eventually, The Ruts manager, Andy Dayman, put it out for me in 1980. I’d also done some other demo’s around that time, in a 24 track studio in Worthing, but the engineer was shit. I think he’d never heard anything like it in his life and just didn’t know what to do. I did get a few things done with David Scott, but it just never worked out. Andy Dayman tried to get me a deal as well. He got Virgin to agree to release one single and a follow-up if the first one did well, but then the bloke reneged on it, so Andy decided to help me set up my own label and got me a distribution deal with Spartan, who had also worked with him on ‘In A Rut’ for People Unite.’
‘Yeah, there was one gig at The Friars in Aylesbury, I think, but we didn’t really talk too much there. But then just as ‘Babylon’s Burning’ was coming out, one of the things that really broke The Ruts was the tour they did supporting The Damned… that was the one with the infamous horse manure incident. I was also on the tour and I ended up really getting on with The Ruts and spent a lot of time with them. The last night of the tour was in Bristol and I did a short rock’n’roll set with Shanne from the Nipple Erectors playing bass and Ruffy playing drums… We drove back to London and The Damned were all pissed and rowing all the way, and when I got back to London, I was supposed to be staying at my bail-address, which was Arthurs’ place, but of course I’d skipped bail to do the tour. So I just figured that I’d go back there, get up at 6.30 in the morning to go and score some gear. But unfortunately, at 6.00, the Police turned up. Obviously, they had nothing else to do, so they got the old Warrants out of the drawer at Earls Court nick and popped around. So I ended up inside for a while… I was at Brixton for a couple of weeks and then got taken to Pentonville. Within a couple of days of being there, I got chatting to a couple of people and when they asked what I did, they were saying, Oh, you’re a punk rocker ! We had another one of them in here the other week… And it turned out that it was just after Hugh Cornwell had been inside. But, anyway, three months later, it turned out that ‘Babylon’s Burning’ had charted and was doing really well. When I got out, I ended up in another spot of bother fairly quickly and was in the same situation again, so I thought, I need to do something about this. I knew The Ruts were on tour, so I decided to go and see them, thinking at least that would take up a couple of days. I got a bus to Victoria and sold a couple of electric drills that I’d acquired from Woolworths to an Evening Standard seller at the Coach Station. Then I went into WHSmiths, bought a Melody Maker and looked up where The Ruts were playing. They were due to play in Nottingham so I bought a ticket for the next coach. Once I got there, I talked the Security man into letting me backstage so when they came back from their soundcheck, I was sitting in their dressing room, thinking, I hope they’re pleased to see me after all this aggro I’ve been through ! I was worried that they’d just say, ‘Hello Pus’, and then ignore me, because I’d come a really long way and god knows what I was going to do if I ended up stuck in Nottingham with no money ! But they were delighted to see me and insisted that I came out and played a couple of numbers to introduce them at the gig. So I did that, they gave me some beer and it was all great. At the end, they all went in a huddle and Ruffy, who was always the kinda spokesman, came and said, ‘Do you want to go on the rest of the tour with us ?’ Of course, I was up for it, so he said, well, we won’t be horrible to you like The Damned are, you can share our rider every night and we’ll give you a fiver every day so you can buy your own lunch, and we’ll figure out a way for you to share one of the hotel rooms… I thought that was brilliant ! They didn’t make me lay on the floor of the van so they could spit on me or stuff like that, we’d just smoke joints and tell jokes. It was just fun, really, a breath of fresh air after The Damned ! I mean, I’d been getting abused all day and all night, really. On stage, that was a different thing, because I was deliberately going out onstage knowing that could happen with the audience… I wasn’t going to do the old Billy Idol thing, you know, ‘if you don’t stop gobbing we’re going to walk offstage…’ That never does you any favours, so I’d just do funny things like going onstage with a cardboard box over my head. There were ways to do things with it to make it into part of the theatre. But being made to lay on the floor in the van and being spat-on doesn’t do much for anyone’s confidence or self-respect !’
The ‘Halfway to Venezuela’ single was recorded some time before it was released, wasn’t it ?
‘I recorded it in 1978, David Scott paid for it, before that Doomed tour, but he didn’t have a label or anything at that time to put it out on. But he did take it to a lot of majors for me, bless him… In fact, he even took it to Robertsons Jam, to try to tie it in with the b-side, ‘Marmalade Freak’. He arranged to see the Board of Robertsons Jam at 9.00 on a Monday morning, and they showed him into an office with a long, polished walnut table, with crystal decanters around at, and then these toffs came-in wearing their suits. David got out his little, portable cassette player and said ‘Good Morning, gentlemen ! It’s like this, that golliwog on your jars, you need to get rid of that and put my boy on there, instead !’ Then he played them the cassette to show them what I sounded like, and they called Security to show him the door ! But it was a brave move… he did try, but it didn’t happen, and eventually, The Ruts manager, Andy Dayman, put it out for me in 1980. I’d also done some other demo’s around that time, in a 24 track studio in Worthing, but the engineer was shit. I think he’d never heard anything like it in his life and just didn’t know what to do. I did get a few things done with David Scott, but it just never worked out. Andy Dayman tried to get me a deal as well. He got Virgin to agree to release one single and a follow-up if the first one did well, but then the bloke reneged on it, so Andy decided to help me set up my own label and got me a distribution deal with Spartan, who had also worked with him on ‘In A Rut’ for People Unite.’
When the single came out, it actually got
quite a good reception…
‘Yeah… it got Single of the Week in Sounds, although there may have been some mischief involved with that. Also, when Rat had been in the White Cats, they had the same management as the Rich Kids, so Rat ended up knocking about with Midge Ure. I went out for a drink with them one night and Midge gave me a lift home in his old Volvo. The following week, he was the guest record reviewer in Sounds, and they gave him a Patrick Fitzgerald record to review… He said something along the lines that, this was alright, but if you like this kinda punk, whacky singer- songwriter stuff, I met this bloke called Auntie Pus last week, and his songs are much more inventive… or words to that effect, which was quite touching.’
You seem to have acquired quite a reputation for your shoplifting talents from those years…
‘I think that’s because when you google ‘Auntie Pus’, you’ll find links to the first single on youtube and other things I’ve done since then, but there’s also a very prominent link to an old Record Mirror quote from Captain, who talks about me being a famous pilferer. He says I used to go up and down the queues outside gigs selling electric kettles to the punters ! But that’s absolute bollocks, I mean, they were all punks, they didn’t have any fucking money, and what would they be wanting with an electric kettle outside a gig ? I probably sold things to the road crew, for their missus at home, but I never sold things to the queues at gigs. I mean, I suppose I was a very good shoplifter for a while, and I pretty much did it for a living for ages, but I also got caught a few times… although not as much as you’d expect considering the amount of stuff I was getting away with. But, you know, it’s not really got anything to do with the music, so I can’t really see the point in telling everyone about how I had to get a taxi when I stole a tumble-drier from a shop, on my own…’
During the early Eighties, you seemed to disappear from the music scene. Was that a deliberate decision ?
‘No, I think that would be rare in anyone’s case ! I didn’t really go missing, I just started moving towards what I’m doing now. By about 1983-84, I was trying to do this thing that was more like Western Jazz. It was still my own songs, but more of a jazz-tinged thing. Like, fake-Thirties songs with a bit of rockabilly thrown-in… I recorded a single at Boz Boorers’ studio in about 1986. Segs played double-bass and sang vocals on one song, which was a jazz one, while the other side was Country & Western and Arthur sang on that one. It was under the name ‘Auntie & The Men From Uncle’, which was a name that Arthur thought-up. Bloody good name it was, too. I also had a band called The Black Devils, which was a kinda punk-rock’n’roll band, and we’d play just as many gigs as I’d ever done, but I just wasn’t phoning them into the press anymore. I had been doing a lot of gigs in places like The Moonlight or Fulham Greyhound, so they’d often get reviewed, but then I started doing most of my gigs around Chiswick and Twickenham, where I was living, so people didn’t get to hear about them.’
You also got more involved with gypsy jazz and swing music, which I guess took you away from a lot of the people who would’ve heard you around 1980…
‘Yeah, well, I’d always been into Django Rheinhart… I mean, I’d never had any problems playing involved chords on my guitar, I just used to play out of time and no-one ever helped me address it. So it took a lot of time before I really figured it out. But now, I often play in bands without a double-bass player, and I’ll be the rhythm instrument holding it all down. I’m sure I still speed-up a little bit at times, but quite often I’ll get jazz musicians coming up to me and complimenting me on my playing. It’s just because I’ve put that extra bit of effort into it over the years…’
‘Yeah… it got Single of the Week in Sounds, although there may have been some mischief involved with that. Also, when Rat had been in the White Cats, they had the same management as the Rich Kids, so Rat ended up knocking about with Midge Ure. I went out for a drink with them one night and Midge gave me a lift home in his old Volvo. The following week, he was the guest record reviewer in Sounds, and they gave him a Patrick Fitzgerald record to review… He said something along the lines that, this was alright, but if you like this kinda punk, whacky singer- songwriter stuff, I met this bloke called Auntie Pus last week, and his songs are much more inventive… or words to that effect, which was quite touching.’
You seem to have acquired quite a reputation for your shoplifting talents from those years…
‘I think that’s because when you google ‘Auntie Pus’, you’ll find links to the first single on youtube and other things I’ve done since then, but there’s also a very prominent link to an old Record Mirror quote from Captain, who talks about me being a famous pilferer. He says I used to go up and down the queues outside gigs selling electric kettles to the punters ! But that’s absolute bollocks, I mean, they were all punks, they didn’t have any fucking money, and what would they be wanting with an electric kettle outside a gig ? I probably sold things to the road crew, for their missus at home, but I never sold things to the queues at gigs. I mean, I suppose I was a very good shoplifter for a while, and I pretty much did it for a living for ages, but I also got caught a few times… although not as much as you’d expect considering the amount of stuff I was getting away with. But, you know, it’s not really got anything to do with the music, so I can’t really see the point in telling everyone about how I had to get a taxi when I stole a tumble-drier from a shop, on my own…’
During the early Eighties, you seemed to disappear from the music scene. Was that a deliberate decision ?
‘No, I think that would be rare in anyone’s case ! I didn’t really go missing, I just started moving towards what I’m doing now. By about 1983-84, I was trying to do this thing that was more like Western Jazz. It was still my own songs, but more of a jazz-tinged thing. Like, fake-Thirties songs with a bit of rockabilly thrown-in… I recorded a single at Boz Boorers’ studio in about 1986. Segs played double-bass and sang vocals on one song, which was a jazz one, while the other side was Country & Western and Arthur sang on that one. It was under the name ‘Auntie & The Men From Uncle’, which was a name that Arthur thought-up. Bloody good name it was, too. I also had a band called The Black Devils, which was a kinda punk-rock’n’roll band, and we’d play just as many gigs as I’d ever done, but I just wasn’t phoning them into the press anymore. I had been doing a lot of gigs in places like The Moonlight or Fulham Greyhound, so they’d often get reviewed, but then I started doing most of my gigs around Chiswick and Twickenham, where I was living, so people didn’t get to hear about them.’
You also got more involved with gypsy jazz and swing music, which I guess took you away from a lot of the people who would’ve heard you around 1980…
‘Yeah, well, I’d always been into Django Rheinhart… I mean, I’d never had any problems playing involved chords on my guitar, I just used to play out of time and no-one ever helped me address it. So it took a lot of time before I really figured it out. But now, I often play in bands without a double-bass player, and I’ll be the rhythm instrument holding it all down. I’m sure I still speed-up a little bit at times, but quite often I’ll get jazz musicians coming up to me and complimenting me on my playing. It’s just because I’ve put that extra bit of effort into it over the years…’
More recently, you’ve been playing gigs as
Auntie Pus, again, and one of the notable tracks in the set is an updated
version of ‘Halfway To Venezuela’, entitled ‘All The Way To Venezuela’… so I
assume you finally got there ?
‘Yes ! Back in 2009… I mean, when I originally wrote the song, it was just a phrase I used which sounded like a nice rhyme, so I wrote a song to go around it. In the end, I went there because I’d always wanted to go to South America, and I’d always been fascinated by the place… anywhere in South America, really. It just so happened that I ended up going to Venezuela because I had a contact there, through some friends of mine. People had been asking me, over the years, when was I going to get there ? I didn’t just go for the humour of that, but it was nice that it tied in, and it was a great place to visit. I was able to send postcards back to home, saying, ‘I’ve made it, lads, and here’s the documentary evidence !’
You also released a new single through iTunes, ‘Yolanda’s Dream’…
‘Yeah, my old manager, David Scott, helped me get that out. It’s about a young girl who has these terrible, disturbed dreams. I wrote it because it all just kinda rolled off the tongue. I just starting writing it and finished it pretty much in one go, one of those things. I was quite proud of it, although I wasn’t that happy with the recording. It was done in a little Community studio that I was able to get for nothing. Sometimes you have to take what you can get.’
When you played in London last year, you introduced one of the songs with the slogan, ‘Too Fast to Live, Too Middle-Aged to Die’… is that how you see yourself thirty-odd years after your first single ?
‘ Nah, but it sounded good, didn’t it ? It’s like I was saying, I’m a performer, so I wanted to make the most of it. That night, it was the first time I’d played a gig with Dick Clark for around 30 years and, who knows, maybe I’ll never get to do it again. Not to be depressing about it, but he lives on the Isle of Wight, so I was honoured that he came all that way to play a gig with us, for nothing ! That was fantastic…’
Do you have any other plans for the moment ?
‘Well, I’m still playing the jazz gigs and I’ll play the Auntie Pus gigs whenever I get the offers. In fact, I’ve been asked to compere at a festival in Crawley so I’ll be doing that, just playing a couple of acoustic songs on my own and introducing the bands. Hopefully, things like that will get my name around again and I’ll be able to do more. I just enjoy playing, and hopefully there’s a few people who enjoy hearing it !’
So there you go. Auntie Pus, a true character, with more than a few great songs to his name. Watch out for his gigs and, if you ant to enjoy further tales from the History of Pus, you are enthusiastically encouraged to investigate his excellent blog site www.auntiejools.blogspot.co.uk
‘Yes ! Back in 2009… I mean, when I originally wrote the song, it was just a phrase I used which sounded like a nice rhyme, so I wrote a song to go around it. In the end, I went there because I’d always wanted to go to South America, and I’d always been fascinated by the place… anywhere in South America, really. It just so happened that I ended up going to Venezuela because I had a contact there, through some friends of mine. People had been asking me, over the years, when was I going to get there ? I didn’t just go for the humour of that, but it was nice that it tied in, and it was a great place to visit. I was able to send postcards back to home, saying, ‘I’ve made it, lads, and here’s the documentary evidence !’
You also released a new single through iTunes, ‘Yolanda’s Dream’…
‘Yeah, my old manager, David Scott, helped me get that out. It’s about a young girl who has these terrible, disturbed dreams. I wrote it because it all just kinda rolled off the tongue. I just starting writing it and finished it pretty much in one go, one of those things. I was quite proud of it, although I wasn’t that happy with the recording. It was done in a little Community studio that I was able to get for nothing. Sometimes you have to take what you can get.’
When you played in London last year, you introduced one of the songs with the slogan, ‘Too Fast to Live, Too Middle-Aged to Die’… is that how you see yourself thirty-odd years after your first single ?
‘ Nah, but it sounded good, didn’t it ? It’s like I was saying, I’m a performer, so I wanted to make the most of it. That night, it was the first time I’d played a gig with Dick Clark for around 30 years and, who knows, maybe I’ll never get to do it again. Not to be depressing about it, but he lives on the Isle of Wight, so I was honoured that he came all that way to play a gig with us, for nothing ! That was fantastic…’
Do you have any other plans for the moment ?
‘Well, I’m still playing the jazz gigs and I’ll play the Auntie Pus gigs whenever I get the offers. In fact, I’ve been asked to compere at a festival in Crawley so I’ll be doing that, just playing a couple of acoustic songs on my own and introducing the bands. Hopefully, things like that will get my name around again and I’ll be able to do more. I just enjoy playing, and hopefully there’s a few people who enjoy hearing it !’
So there you go. Auntie Pus, a true character, with more than a few great songs to his name. Watch out for his gigs and, if you ant to enjoy further tales from the History of Pus, you are enthusiastically encouraged to investigate his excellent blog site www.auntiejools.blogspot.co.uk