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angel

by andy matthews

/

about

Our director, Bill Easton (chap in the "Sheena" masthead) recalls: "This was the one with that interminably bloody cover shoot! I'd asked the photographer to make it look like the cat's head was spinning... He, a fervent nationalist and twot, had taken this to mean 'do whatever you must to make the cat's head spin', git that he was.
I popped in to see how it was going and there were cat giblets all over the parabolics, floor, everywhere. He'd put a drill inside the cat, cable out of its arse, which he was operating with a remote. Gory, but you have to admit, it worked. Never told Matthews, bloody yoghurt hugger"

Matthews himself has a different recollection:
"I had been looking into trails of popvolution as research for my book "Trails of Popvulution". It occured to me that i coukld understand these sequences more thoroughly by trying to replicate them musically. This was my Bowie/Eno/Disco/DuranDuran sort of a thing. I was quite proud of it, got increasingly desperate phone calls from the chairman of Mayfait white leather seatsniffers club who wanted to use it for some specialist video or other but one morning, looking at the cat's favce, I suddenyl realised what a terrible title "Trails of Popvulution" was for a book so all the notes went on the bonfire and this song sank into obscurity. All except, one assumes, for "Mr Sheen", PO Box 97, Hays Mews, London W1 who had it on cassette. i don't know if the video got made. No-one tells me anything, its one reason I became so jaded with the whole pop malarkey."

lyrics

She steps onto the glass like a skater onto Brimstone -
Her infuriating giggle bewitching all those whom it would hold hostage...

Angel - there you are
looking for a tiger i a Jaguar
angel, it's '75 - never have you felt more alive
hold on to what you've got - a tight set of buns and a forty foot yacht
don't you let go of any one thing,
don't wait to see what the winter will bring.
Angel!

(she coolly exchanges fire for schanpps with a candid flourish and her trademark sparkle - glorious and irredeemable)

Angel, dance on ice - never have the Swiss been so surprised
Fondues and coke in the secret south
keys down the back of your sofa mouth
Angel, pearls and teeth
laughing like a gun on a funeral wreath
Out like a light and onto the street
the car valet sniffs your white leather seat
Angel!

Angel, coppice aflame
never gonna race with the Turks again
Truculent legs, like a lightning tree
A cackling shadow in the night, that's me
Angel, don't be afraid
Chania and The Crimson love the marks you made.
Pick yourself up and take the mourners out
Emmentaler jugular insides shout.

she slices through the ecstasy of moonkissed magma like an ovation - her wake a million crystal shards and a devilish riddle - who was the Encoder?
The man inside whom she called, the Craven one.

credits

released August 11, 2004

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all rights reserved

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Ah! Records Nasty, UK

Ah! Records is officially the least successful record label of all time. Plagued for 30 years by bad luck, criminality, drug- induced recklessness and vandalism, only founders Bill Easton & Andy Matthews' belief in the merits of these releases have ensured Ah!'s continuity. Currently a toilet on a houseboat in Portugal, the office of Ah! introduces these gems to a new generation via bandcamp. x ... more

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