Slow Life | 2 May 2009

I was in a heavy metal band once, kind of by accident, couldn’t help myself: said I’d play a couple of songs with them at a party and that was that, joined the circus. That band was called Zodiac Mindwarp and the Love Reaction and I loved them for many reasons: looked great; one really, really good song; guitar player was a karate black belt; drummer taught music at a high-security prison; the singer was a thoughtful and fearless vagabond king. They were all exceptionally bright and they got through a lot of bass players; some died, some ran away, but I was with them for ages, captivated by high voltage and high volume.

I still have the heavily embroidered denim jacket the band bequeathed to me. It’s the jacket all their bass players wore, next to the skin at every, sweaty gig. The jacket has never once been washed, a potent mess of provocation and stitched-on symbolism.