Somewhere in the depths of the earth there is a little pixie, who wears big red pointy shoes, a woolen suit and a large red, green and brown hat. Each and every day, the pixie wakes up very early. He has a wash, puts on his clothes and trip, traps down the rickety old stairs of his toadstool house which sits at the northern end of Piggily Poe Wood and makes breakfast. The pixie likes to eats his favourite food each morning (for he is a creature of immense habit); honey leaf bacon, scrambled river eggs, with toast and lashings of very sweet, very hot nutmeg tea. Once he has finished his breakfast, the pixie carefully washes up his plates and utensils and sets about his daily work…
…which is to f*ck me up.
The pixie is very good at his job and he goes about his task with industry, cunning and guile. He is an experienced F*ckup Pixie and his name has spread far and wide amongst the other woodland creatures of the forest.
No-one knows his first name but his initials are unpronounceable, which only adds to his mystique.
"There goes Simon's F*ckup Pixie." They would say in hushed tones, just quiet enough to be respectful but loud enough for the pixie to hear and make him smile inwardly. It's a good life he thinks, as long as one applies ones self diligently to the task assigned to you, the results justify the effort.
He smiles and thinks back to a few night previously, remembering how he got Simon to set off the intruder alarm of a strangers car by making him think it was his wife vehicle. Making a really sweet deal with the Rain god to get him thoroughly wet and miserable on his bicycle ride home beforehand and then turning off the streetlight so that nobody could see their hand in front of their face were touches that made him a hero in Piggily Poe Wood. He hadn't anticipated the heated argument between Simon and the neighbour, nor the bike/car chase that had ensued but he would happily take the credit for the additional woe. It all adds to the C.V. after all.
Sadly, the fly in an otherwise perfect ointment was that the pixie had a nemesis was called Lucky Lucy, the Hatton Pelican from just beyond Fortune Valley. As with all magic pelicans, you could never mistake Lucy's imminent arrival as every entrance was preceded by cacophony of flapping of wings and the heavy rustle of her big pelican briefs as she happily angled herself into one of Hatton's famous controlled crash landings. Even Lucy would admit that although she was not a creature of grace, like a £10 lottery win or a much needed trip to the toilet, she was not to be denied.
The F*ckup Pixie looked sullenly at Lucky Lucy as she clambered out of the cabbages behind Mr Chlamydia's allotment and dusted herself down. She beamed back at the pixie who pretended to be picking invisible fluff off the lapels his yellow jacket.
"Hello Mr Pixie, still up to mischief?" Beamed Lucy. The pixie sniffed and smiled frostily.
"Always Miss Lucy, why just the other day I…"
"Yes, yes, we've all heard about the car alarm" said Lucky Lucy as she waddled over to where the pixie sat on a burgundy toadstool by the Piggly Poe Village pond. "Are you still trying to hamper the recording of the Tinyfish album too?"
"It would be rude not to." Quipped the pixie. " I have joined forces with the Pixies who look after Jim, Paul, Leon and Robert to make sure that there are no gigs and no-one ever has any free time to record. I have been most through in this respect"
"Have you now?" The Hatton Bird sat down beside the toadstool and looked out over the pond.
"We'll I also have a few tricks up my sleeve, Mr Pixie. For example; unbeknownst to you, I have managed to arrange for three shows to be offered to the boys. One is on
Friday the 5th of December at
the Riga Club in Southend for the
Southern CRS Xmas Party. They'll be playing another one of their famous acoustic sets." The pixie's expression was frozen in place and Lucy smiled inwardly as she continued. "Oh and speaking of acoustic gigs, they will also be playing a lunchtime set down at
The Peel in Kingston on
Sunday the 21st of December." The pelican settled herself in place. "It seems that Simon's brother Jem will be letting
Frost* out to play the night before with
It Bites playing the Sunday evening. Isn't that nice? Many people are staying overnight to see both shows so Twang the promoter thought it might be nice to ask Tinyfish to keep everyone entertained and add a little something special to the weekend."
The Pixie sat motionless and went a deep shade of puce. Lucy thought that the colour did not go at all well with his yellow jacket but decided to keep this to herself. Suddenly his expression changed and the Pixie turned to the Lucky Pelican.
"Only two shows, I thought you said three? Oh such a shame!' He forced a grin onto his face.
"Oh I do beg your pardon, I forgot yes! Tinyfish will also be playing a full electric show at
The Peel on
Saturday the 10th of January as well. Thank you for reminding me."
You see? Everyone should have a magic Pelican. It's what I keep telling the local magistrate whenever I'm called up to defend myself in court but such pearls of wisdom rarely find a sympathetic ear.
Well it looks as if we'll be seeing the year out with a bit of a bang (which is nice). Naturally we all hope to see you down at the shows because otherwise, we're all just w*nking in the darkness. If things go well and Lucky Lucy flummoxes the F*ckup Pixie, we also might have something very special to announce at the shows as well. Keep your fingers crossed.
..
In other news, I wandered down to see Pendragon play last night (again at the Peel - it's amazing how that venue has become a veritable cornucopia of proggity prog over the past year). The guys are experiencing such a resurgence right now both musically and publicly and they were absolutely on fire. How many bands can say they have been in the game for 30 years and still have something positive to contribute to the scene? Ask me in 26 years and I'll give you my own personal answer (you'll probably find me in the local nursing home yelling at anyone who cares to listen about how the Kaiser wants to steal my string).
A really great night which was tinged by a hint of sadness as Martin Orford (the man behind much of the music of IQ) chose his support set to retire from the music scene for good. I stood there as he played thinking 'oh my god, I'm seeing the end of a little bit of our collective prog story tonight'. Martin was a very unassuming but magnetic presence on stage as he played both old IQ material and large swathes of his latest (and last) album, The Old Road.
It was a performance I'll not forget in a hurry and looking about in the audience, I wasn't alone. By way of tribute, at the end of Pendragon's set they invited Martin up onto the stage and collectively performed IQ's Outer Limits before opening a bottle of champagne on stage and drinking a toast to our Mr Orford departure.
We wish you well Widge and we'll all be worse off without you with us.
Last but not least, I must just mention that the album is going very well. Paul and I are spending almost every waking hour making sure that our meagre budget is stretched as far as possible. This is not an album of excess like our previous effort. Oh no, gone are the days of Learjets, fur coats and a wide selection of leather posing pouches. We have all learnt our lesson and have decided to concentrate upon the essentials that make an album work. Yes, you would be amazed what you can do without as long as you have a small studio, some guitars and a bunch of women dipped in chocolate.
As it stands, it is looking as if we might have enough material for a double album. Yes folks you heard it here first, a double album. Our current thinking takes us in the direction of an electric album filled with full on prog rockness and a second CD which will contain around 30 minutes of music made up almost entirely of acoustic, orchestral and spoken word songs that will detail the background story of the Big Red Spark. To add to the fun, the special addition CD will probably see few other numbers we have hiding in the vaults also placed onto the record for your delectation.
You have all been duly warned.
Lots of Love.
Tinyfish
PS. Watch out for your own F*ckup Pixie. He or she are just moments away from you. Beware slippery floors or loose fitting underwear at all times.