ALL COD MONS "Gills Just Wanna Have Fun"
Fiend | CD 025

Says "fun" not "fin" on the Fiend list and my hand written promo disc but, well, you know how it is... "yeees, I know only too well 'ow it is. Confusing". Anyway, I'm back! I've been away Lloyd, but now I'm back! Xmas is over, thank fuck. What the hell was that all about anyway? Now they're all asking "did you have a nice Christmas?" and "is your hair natural?" and "are you going to Donnington this year?" To each and every nosey shallow enquirer I respond with an iron bar beaten swollen red and raw testicular... "FUCK OFF!!!" Thank you.

All Cod Mons 'were' Candi Nook (yum yum), Holly, Kirsty, Leah and 'S' (as in San D.K., I guess?) Now they've disbanded, like all the greats before them, Bros, Jive Bunny, Steps... thus making this a piece of Fiend history so to speak, like how things were, how they could have been and of what is yet to come.

Title track (or is it? I realised something was amiss when I discovered that track 4 is actually track 5? so track 1 must be something else? Don't forget it's all a hurridly written promo and so any errors or misunderstandings is just one of those things. We're not doing too badly I think? As if you care! Just sit back and enjoy the ride). 'Gills just wanna...' (or is it 'All cod mons'?) is lots of titting and clitting and flapping about by saying "All mod cons" this way, that way, sped-up, slowed down, sung to "on the first day of Christmas my true love sent to me...", it goes on and on and on and on, the sort of thing you yourself might have done aged 10 during your 'Genesis of child stardom' when Mummy and Daddo gave you 'My First Sony' tape recorder (er, as opposed to today's 'My First Sony Super Audio 7.1 Channel Surround Sound Dolby Digital Pro-Logic 500 Watts per Channel Recordable DVD Plasma Screen A/VSystem which, I'll have you know, is even more impressive than my 'big one'. Just.

And so here we are. Daleks saying "All Cod Mons", Pinky and Perky in on thee act too, onto act three, Candi & Co spit it all out, spit babies, spit, gob it out, clear your lusty lubricated throats of all that yellow and green bubbling warm seething spital, all flem and gunky and foaming frothed sputumic gullet shit... all over me, yeah, all 5 of you with a bucket load of this sticky nectar each, fermenting for days and a veritable beverage of the gods, over my head and face and bod and bits, smother me in that stinking dead honey of your glands, he whole fucking crying talking sleeping walking living corpse that I am! Cover, soak and marinate me in your nauseating trachearian throat muck! Ha! Only kidding girls. All Cod Mons isn't that good.

'Sirens' is better, you've got your B&Q D.I.Y. home security system alarm going woo, woo, woo, a little clarinete, a little 1960's Doctor Who/BBC Radiophonic Workshop sound experiments, the flight of a bee around a pomegranate one second before wakening up and the dream that such an event causes, distant drums or artillery shelling or both. What does it all mean? Can you use this as lurve-making musak? No, it's not for moi... Tangerine Dream's Phaedra was always my preferred choice in the game of the two-backed beast but, you know, some would beg to differ, and I'd like to see that. The begging and the differing. 'Home Videos' to the usual address. Please.

'Spellchecking' has the radiophonic workshop all fired up again with ghostly girly wailing, oohhing and aahhing along to gagging speech as if some mouthy and mothy chick is slowly and gently a' munchy-wunching on an elephants scrote sack, jawbreaker style, all succulant fleshy and juicy. Lucy .Walker. Not really but I like the idea. A pleasant enough piece, especially our five femme fatales cute little fake orgasms... if you can make it that far. (Fake orgs? I'm an expert. All two, of my women said that I would have made a great Anesthetist).

'Im/possibilities' sounds, on the outset, like kids TV picked up (heh heh) from another room. Then there's the overheard conversations, radio stations being tuned in and out, gentle beats, childish boyings and doyings, making smellies in the bath (as one does) and general amature sound experiments which tend to go nowhere. Not that there's anywhere to go but. personally, I enjoy the illusion of some form of destination. As it is with life in general, for example.

I don't know what this 5th track is? The number "5" is flashing away topless and 'titleless'. It's more of the above really so, unless it suddenly offers something new, I'll leave it there. God! There's that 'Churchill' ad. Bad move girls. Anyway, gotta go, I've left the kids in the oven. bye.

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Fiend Recordings
18 Canal Road,
Sowerby Bridge
West Yorkshire
HX6 2AY
ENGLAND
email: candi.nook (AT) ntlworld.com