The Temple of Oofus Mosh

The first ever album I had, which was completely mine, was a cassette version of Iron Maiden's "Powerslave". I went through a bit of a metal phase when I was about 8-9 years old. I remember turning out to a school disco with my tragic mullet, combed through with glitter gel, headbanging to some song where headbanging was completely inappropriate.

I remember waking up in the morning with a stiff neck from all the metal action, glitter all over my pillow like I'd been sleeping with a drag queen, and the smell of boiled onions from the hotdog stand staining my 80's locks. Every single time I smell boiled onions, it takes me back to that school disco, to the glitter gel, and to the DJ with his mobile disco and four halogen lights inducing fits across the dancefloor.

It also takes me back to the even more tragic band I formed with one of my mates, and another lad who wanted to be in the band. He wasn't officially in, but we'd say he could be in, if he would do outlandish dares for our amusement. Kids are cunts, aren't they? We had him drinking a Panda pop bottle full of muddy rain water from where the fields had been waterlogged, and he did it, just to be in our band. I also remember another time when he ate a piece of my shit because he thought it was a Malteser. Absolutely shocking, I agree.

Around about the same time as us going through our metal phase, the Beastie Boys appeared on the scene. For anybody who doesn't remember, or wasn't around, this marked sensationalist stories in the papers and widespread car crime. Across the country, owners of Volkswagen's were reporting their VW badges missing, drivers were tying their VW signs on to the car grills, to stop Beastie Boys fans from stealing them to make necklaces. Other stories reported the Beasties visiting hospitals full of mentally ill children, with the Beasties poking fun at them and spitting at them. I had new heroes.

And so our band formed. We had one song. Although we had no music at all, it was basically a combination of rap and metal. It was called "The Temple of Oofus Mosh". I can't remember any of the lyrics, apart from the last line of the chorus, "We go to the Temple of Oofus Mosh". Fuck knows what it was all about.

Throughout the months leading up to the school disco, I'd go round to my mates house to practice our masterpiece. Practice involved sitting in his front room with a load of crisps and taking time out from rehearsals to play with his He-Man figures. I always had the one you could fill up with water and press his head down to make him spit at his enemies. Rehearsals consisted of me holding his sisters hairbrush and him holding the remote control, and the pair of us jumping up and down on his settee, pretending we could rap. If the other lad came along, who desperately wanted to be in our band, we'd give him a banana for a microphone and laugh at him. We both had lyric sheets, but the other lad didn't, so again this gave us lots of amusement. Again, absolutely shocking.

Eventually, the lad who wanted to be in our band was barred from coming round for band practice. It's sort of my fault as well. One day, I'd arrived round at practice and there wasn't anybody in. I trailed all of the way around, only to find nobody in. Believe it or not, I was just as bitter at 9 years old as I am now. I decided to wipe snot all over the front doorbell, then preceded to go to the back of his house and curl a massive shit out on his back doorstep. Needless to say, the lad who wanted to be in our band got the blame for both the snot and the turd. I think he was grounded by his own mother as well after receiving a phone call from a justifiably angry parent.

So the school disco night finally came. It had already been organised with the headmaster, that we would get on the microphones and do our rap. Thank fuckfully, it never did happen. And instead, we headbanged the night away to Rick Astley and the Pet Shop Boys.

A shortwhile later, after I embarked on a new phase, and had a band called "The S.S. Sloppy", I put sellotape over the tabs of my Iron Maiden "Powerslave" album and taped total and utter shite off the radio when the top 40 was on, being ever so careful to make sure I stopped the tape just in time from the DJ talking.

Whenever I hear Iron Maiden's "2 Minutes To Midnight", or "Aces High", it takes me right back to the smell of boiled onions, to glitter gel, to curling out turds on doorsteps.

Happy, heady days indeed.



Here's a bit of "Powerslave", I'll do my first bits of vinyl soon.........