The history of The Veggies
The Django story begins with two bored schoolboys, Paul Morris and Peter Simmonds. Driven to distraction by the tedium of teenage life in an inconsequential provincial shit hole, these hormonal hombres, like so many before them, idly dream of picking up guitars, forming a band and strumming their way to freedom and riches. Ideally with lots of girls.
The first tiny step towards fulfilling this shared dream comes with the arrival of a skinny bloke called Gareth, who not only has a guitar (an electric one!!!) but can very nearly play it.
Inspired by his modest twiddlings our two impressionable young heroes start learning to play alongside him - Morris is on vocals/guitar, Simmonds on bass (or rather, behind it).
As time wears on the toothpick Welshman's reliability (and willingness to buy a round) dwindles and our two intrepid three-chord tricksters decide to set off down rock's long and winding road alone. The legend begins to take shape - only very bloody slowly.
At this stage the Django we know and love today is a long way off. So are things like barre chords, solos, full arrangements (Percussion? Fuck that shit!) and any prospect of recording. There is also a succession of bizarre and totally shit names:
Perfection, Yeovil Road, Konigsohn, Amber Junction among them. Though Yeovil Road does have a nice folksy twang…
The pieces begin to slowly fall in to place when the dynamic duo head to record their first demo after a week holed up on the North Peckham Estate "rehearsing". The resultant mushroom cloud of smoke can still be seen on a clear night in South London.
Unsurprisingly, the demo turns out to be shite. However, far too stupid to be put off by their achingly obvious lack of talent, Mozza and Simmo (The latter now gamely twanging on six strings as well as four) decide to plough on. A series of occasional demos follow, yielding the odd success as the boys begin to show a modicum of song-writing ability.
Occasional new band members come and go - including loveable Scouse (well, Birkenhead) teddy/man Neil Roberts (drums) and posturing preppie Pip Rolfe (vocals and crap mike dancing - though he was supposed to be playing violin) - but it's the Simmo/Mozza axis that continues to keep the bandwagon staggering vaguely forwards.
Progress is slow as the two young men try to make their way in the world, and the music is very much on the back burner as they enter the worlds of education, beer and work.
However, two new factors add impetus to the development of the band, by now sporting the knob-achingly dreadful moniker Vegetables At Last. Firstly, Paul saves up his pocket money and invests in a four track recorder and secondly, towering (to Pete anyway), titian-haired keyboard-tickler David J "Ginga" Reakes joins the band in a dandy swirl of quintessentially English good-blokishness. Hoozah!
At this stage the chaps are living Monkees style in a north London house-share, the exquisite sometime guest artiste Rod "Phone/Ted/Ploppy" Smith making up the domestic quartet. Much fannying about ensues but the game trio - or Paul to be more specific - start learning to properly understand the recording and arranging processes.
The boys decide to make an album and do so over the course of a year at Music City in New Cross. They are unbelievably fortunate to encounter engineer Chris Mansell at their first session. Chris, an extremely knowledgeable and bloody charming fella, goes on to produce the whole album, providing much invaluable technical instruction in doing so.
The result is Get Here Get Kissin With, an uneven record to say the least but one which contains some undoubted highs. Bunny, You Used To Be Cute, Slow Time and You Make The Tea raise the Veggie bar considerably, while the classic Spend is a fixture in any live set.
After the non-stop joy of the first album the second, Imagine Not Drowning, proves a bit of a chore. A fucking pain in the arse actually. It seems to take years to finish. Largely because it does. Again there are some real treats on the record, but it is really a learning curve for the boys as they get used to recording themselves, and at times it shows.
Album3 is a doddle by comparison. Morris is by now set up with sufficient recording equipment and expertise for the boys to finally create music the way they have always dreamed of - comfortably and with lots of beer. The record pops out in next to no time.
'Alan Cowsill', named after the band's longest-standing and most loyal (and not far short of only) fan sees The Veggies reach previously un-scaled heights. All of this is aided by improved musicianship and a more savvy approach to writing and arranging. Then suddenly, as if by magic, 'It Should Have Been Mega', arrived - an LP boasting some 25 tracks (although 8 of them were re-workings of tracks from the un-loved 'Imagine Not Drowning' LP).
With hindsight it is not a particularly coherent LP, being merely 'the 25 recordings made between July 2004 and December 2005' but on the back of this disc, The Veggies decide to go 'on tour' (albeit without Mr Reakes, who by this time has relocated to Glastonbury on a permanent basis). It is at this point that the band's two longest serving (and founding) members spend an entire evening in a pub with a dictionary and the express purpose of finding a new band name because Peter "could not get up on to a stage as part of and band called Vegetables At Last". They settle on the excellent name 'Astronaut'.
Unforunately, so had Astronaut, the band voted best unsigned act by NME in 1996. Drat. Never mind, having spent five hours grappling over that name, the next one took 10 seconds. Which is probably why 'Django' is every bit as shit as 'Vegetables At Last'. Ho hum. Why do bands need names anyway? It's fucking silly.
Back to the tour: fate, it seems, had other ideas on that front. Firstly, the drummer we engaged for the project disappears and no replacement can immediately be found. Then, after two or three rehearsals, third guitarist (yes, of course we needed three!) leaves the band. Next, after just one (three song) gig, bassist Paul Brown decides to go and live in Spain. Left with nothing much to do except start a family, Simmonds does exactly that. Morris, utterly abandoned and alone, decides to hang up his guitars.
But there is one last song to record. A couple of years previously, pianist Simon Pickering had been approached regarding a piano part for a song. Apparently happy to help out, it nevertheless took two years worth of polite enquiries from Simon before Paul reluctantly handed over the dreadful demo of that song. Simon took no time in converting Paul's rigid, sequenced piano part into something quite splendid however, and a guest vocal by Paul Frederick later the fifth LP, 'N5', was begun. Paul Brown took over bass-playing duties from the otherwise occupied Simmonds and by July 2007 the LP was done and dusted. Actual Veggies drummer Neil Roberts contributed to four songs and even Mr Reakes make a comeback with some splendid work, most notably on 'Happy Now', 'Mary's Friend' and 'If I See You On Wednesday', a song written so far back in the past that 'the past' barely describes how long ago it was.
Early 2008 see Simmonds tentatively re-emerging into the fold and a new drummer brings the promise of long-overdue gigs. We shall see.
The first tiny step towards fulfilling this shared dream comes with the arrival of a skinny bloke called Gareth, who not only has a guitar (an electric one!!!) but can very nearly play it.
Inspired by his modest twiddlings our two impressionable young heroes start learning to play alongside him - Morris is on vocals/guitar, Simmonds on bass (or rather, behind it).
As time wears on the toothpick Welshman's reliability (and willingness to buy a round) dwindles and our two intrepid three-chord tricksters decide to set off down rock's long and winding road alone. The legend begins to take shape - only very bloody slowly.
At this stage the Django we know and love today is a long way off. So are things like barre chords, solos, full arrangements (Percussion? Fuck that shit!) and any prospect of recording. There is also a succession of bizarre and totally shit names:
Perfection, Yeovil Road, Konigsohn, Amber Junction among them. Though Yeovil Road does have a nice folksy twang…
The pieces begin to slowly fall in to place when the dynamic duo head to record their first demo after a week holed up on the North Peckham Estate "rehearsing". The resultant mushroom cloud of smoke can still be seen on a clear night in South London.
Unsurprisingly, the demo turns out to be shite. However, far too stupid to be put off by their achingly obvious lack of talent, Mozza and Simmo (The latter now gamely twanging on six strings as well as four) decide to plough on. A series of occasional demos follow, yielding the odd success as the boys begin to show a modicum of song-writing ability.
Occasional new band members come and go - including loveable Scouse (well, Birkenhead) teddy/man Neil Roberts (drums) and posturing preppie Pip Rolfe (vocals and crap mike dancing - though he was supposed to be playing violin) - but it's the Simmo/Mozza axis that continues to keep the bandwagon staggering vaguely forwards.
Progress is slow as the two young men try to make their way in the world, and the music is very much on the back burner as they enter the worlds of education, beer and work.
However, two new factors add impetus to the development of the band, by now sporting the knob-achingly dreadful moniker Vegetables At Last. Firstly, Paul saves up his pocket money and invests in a four track recorder and secondly, towering (to Pete anyway), titian-haired keyboard-tickler David J "Ginga" Reakes joins the band in a dandy swirl of quintessentially English good-blokishness. Hoozah!
At this stage the chaps are living Monkees style in a north London house-share, the exquisite sometime guest artiste Rod "Phone/Ted/Ploppy" Smith making up the domestic quartet. Much fannying about ensues but the game trio - or Paul to be more specific - start learning to properly understand the recording and arranging processes.
The boys decide to make an album and do so over the course of a year at Music City in New Cross. They are unbelievably fortunate to encounter engineer Chris Mansell at their first session. Chris, an extremely knowledgeable and bloody charming fella, goes on to produce the whole album, providing much invaluable technical instruction in doing so.
The result is Get Here Get Kissin With, an uneven record to say the least but one which contains some undoubted highs. Bunny, You Used To Be Cute, Slow Time and You Make The Tea raise the Veggie bar considerably, while the classic Spend is a fixture in any live set.
After the non-stop joy of the first album the second, Imagine Not Drowning, proves a bit of a chore. A fucking pain in the arse actually. It seems to take years to finish. Largely because it does. Again there are some real treats on the record, but it is really a learning curve for the boys as they get used to recording themselves, and at times it shows.
Album3 is a doddle by comparison. Morris is by now set up with sufficient recording equipment and expertise for the boys to finally create music the way they have always dreamed of - comfortably and with lots of beer. The record pops out in next to no time.
'Alan Cowsill', named after the band's longest-standing and most loyal (and not far short of only) fan sees The Veggies reach previously un-scaled heights. All of this is aided by improved musicianship and a more savvy approach to writing and arranging. Then suddenly, as if by magic, 'It Should Have Been Mega', arrived - an LP boasting some 25 tracks (although 8 of them were re-workings of tracks from the un-loved 'Imagine Not Drowning' LP).
With hindsight it is not a particularly coherent LP, being merely 'the 25 recordings made between July 2004 and December 2005' but on the back of this disc, The Veggies decide to go 'on tour' (albeit without Mr Reakes, who by this time has relocated to Glastonbury on a permanent basis). It is at this point that the band's two longest serving (and founding) members spend an entire evening in a pub with a dictionary and the express purpose of finding a new band name because Peter "could not get up on to a stage as part of and band called Vegetables At Last". They settle on the excellent name 'Astronaut'.
Unforunately, so had Astronaut, the band voted best unsigned act by NME in 1996. Drat. Never mind, having spent five hours grappling over that name, the next one took 10 seconds. Which is probably why 'Django' is every bit as shit as 'Vegetables At Last'. Ho hum. Why do bands need names anyway? It's fucking silly.
Back to the tour: fate, it seems, had other ideas on that front. Firstly, the drummer we engaged for the project disappears and no replacement can immediately be found. Then, after two or three rehearsals, third guitarist (yes, of course we needed three!) leaves the band. Next, after just one (three song) gig, bassist Paul Brown decides to go and live in Spain. Left with nothing much to do except start a family, Simmonds does exactly that. Morris, utterly abandoned and alone, decides to hang up his guitars.
But there is one last song to record. A couple of years previously, pianist Simon Pickering had been approached regarding a piano part for a song. Apparently happy to help out, it nevertheless took two years worth of polite enquiries from Simon before Paul reluctantly handed over the dreadful demo of that song. Simon took no time in converting Paul's rigid, sequenced piano part into something quite splendid however, and a guest vocal by Paul Frederick later the fifth LP, 'N5', was begun. Paul Brown took over bass-playing duties from the otherwise occupied Simmonds and by July 2007 the LP was done and dusted. Actual Veggies drummer Neil Roberts contributed to four songs and even Mr Reakes make a comeback with some splendid work, most notably on 'Happy Now', 'Mary's Friend' and 'If I See You On Wednesday', a song written so far back in the past that 'the past' barely describes how long ago it was.
Early 2008 see Simmonds tentatively re-emerging into the fold and a new drummer brings the promise of long-overdue gigs. We shall see.