It's really just the sound of a few mates failing to take seriously the fact they they've got an l.p. to make. It seems VERY early eighties now, but you must remember that there was a LOT of crap for us to clear out of the way in those days.

Ever wondered what Max and I get up to away from the glamour of the modern stage? No, probably not, but let me tell you that there is nothing we like better that to get our teeth into those Big Questions.

Ever wondered what Max and I get up to away from the glamour of the modern stage? No, probably not, but let me tell you that there is nothing we like better that to get our teeth into those Big Questions.

Having ended up on Creation Records, which I took as a bit of a validation, I was keen to get as far away from all those "w" words that had followed my group around. The sessions were chaotic and funny. What disappoints me is that it came out sounding so SMOOTH and tidy. But I like Fishcotheque; I wish there more records as good as it.

This record collects together the various singles that have been issued in England to date under the much-abused name of the Jazz Butcher, to wit: me. I rather like having them all in one place like this - it makes for a nice, noisey muck-it-up sort of disc that is ideal for leisure time at home, on the beach, in you local club.... hell, ANYWHERE!!!

This record is all about love. Don't let the psychic molestation syndrome get to you. This is our loudest record to date, which is something to do with the elephants.

An attempt to force a meeting between the steaming tropical jungles of Bangladesh (where the tigers live) and the frozen stepps of Siberia (where the Siberian tigers live).

Acoustically and lively delivered cover tunes. Essential.

The Jazz Butcher and his group are not in the business of belonging; they are too old and too obstreperous to conform to some attention-seeking image or commercially viable formula. Rather, they bring their not inconsiderable talents to bear on whatever happens to be in the way at the time. The results can only be described as essential.

Early 1989 was, indeed a strange and desperate time after all that triumphalist Tory looting that had been going on. We listened to a lot of hip-hop and soul music at the time, and I think that we considered ourselves sufficiently HARD to take the whole fucker on in an l.p. Possibly with a more "clued-in" producer and a bit more self-discipline we could have come up with something like what we were looking for.

Real Men, the kind who never sit together on buses in case they get their medallions tangled.

Well, I'm back from America. We had a good old time of it, and by the end of the tour we had worked 5 songs off the new record into our live set. The title of the new waxing, incidentally, is Rotten Soul.

The Albatross. A record, I feel, of its time. We were young(ish) and cocky and I think it shows. I still haven't learned to sing on this one, which bugs me too. Still, it was cheap and cheerful, and it helped us to meet an awful lot of people.

Having exhausted the initial stick of JB songs, I was obliged for the first time to write about my life as it was at the time. I think that now we had started to learn about actually creating recordings rather than just recording the sound of a bunch of pals fooling around. This one I'd actually defend at length if I had to.

Recorded in the summer of 1983 in a place called Wellingborough, a small town in the middle of England where even the children are scarey!

Thanks for the money. We'll be spending it on weapons and drugs. The first thing that you have to understand about this disc is that it is not an L.P.: it is a single and a radio session nailed together for your amusement.