Monocled Alchemist

John opposition meets those boozy Brighton blokes, PETER AND THE TEST TUBE BABIES

Article published in Sounds, 4th September, 1982

Peter And The Test Tube Babies | Beach Babies | I SUPPOSE it’s fair to say that, in the eyes of the average punter, Brighton is not a town that’s ever been renowned for its output of interesting bands.

This has, I’m sorry to say, a lot to do with the attitudes of record and cinema companies and music papers who tend to see the town as a kind of hip film location and holiday resort and don’t take much interest in the people who actually live there.

As someone who grew up in Brighton I can vouch for the fact that, though things have been pretty quiet in the couple of years, the town had plenty to say for itself in the halcyon days of the punk explosion.

Let me take you back, momentarily, to the heady days of Brighton, 1977 . . .

WHILE THE Clash, Pistols and Buzzcocks were doing their stuff elsewhere, the Resource Centre at the Old Presbyterian Church Hall near Brighton Station became the focal point for the fast growing Brighton punk scene.

Upstairs, a community press printed posters and information sheets for bands and local action groups, and a large hall provided a convenient if slightly spartan gig venue.

Downstairs, in the unlikely setting of the old church burial vault, bands rehearsed and stored their gear; and many gigs took place in the humid half-light of the Vault, with the punters of a new generation pogoing away among gravestones, memorial plaques — and the occasional skeleton.

The Vault

To me, the Vault symbolised the incredible change in musical attitudes which punk represented; in the days of the supergroups and tinsel gods whoever would have thought of doing gigs in a hole in the ground?

Bands in those early days were the likes of Wrist Action, the Piranhas, Poison Girls (who also ran the local fanzine, Spittin’ Blood —and remember, Crass weren’t even born then!) the Depressions, the neo-legendary Brighton Riot Squad (but we won’t talk bout them!) and Joby And The Holligans.

As the months went past some of these bands went on to better things, some were too pissed to play (!) some split up and a second wave emerged, Among these were the Smarties (later the Chefs). Nicky And The Dots and two bands who have a special place both in my heart and in the history of Brighton punk. One was the incredible Smeggy And The Cheesy Bits (who, sadly, never did manage a cover version of ‘I’ve Got You Under My Skin’ and didn’t even get to support the 4-Skins!)

The other band, close friends of the smegma-infested ones, is the subject of today’s feature from Your Humble Narrator.

Peter And The Test Tube Babies | Beach Babies

I first saw Peter And The Test Tube Babies through an alcoholic haze at the Vault some time ago in 1978. I think Smeggy & Co. were playing as well, but its so long ago and I was so pissed that I can’t honestly remember.

What I do remember, though, is that even in those ultra-early days and at the tender age of 16 or thereabouts the Testies were already well over the top in the manic humour stakes, and a pretty brave bunch they were too. Puzzled? I’ll explain.

The silly tribal rivalry in vogue at the time was teds vs punks — and the Peacehaven wild kids had just taken for their own a Smeggy-inspired and less than complimentary ‘tribute’ to a recently-demised pop star entitled ‘Elvis Is Dead’.

In those days Teds used to hang around outside the Vault looking for stray punks to beat up and one day they got Peter, which inspired him to write modern set favourite ‘Intensive Care’. More of that later, though.

Not content with organising gigs and providing a venue and rehearsal space for bands, the brave souls at the Resource Centre had the fine idea of compiling an LP of the bands who used the Resource Centre and the Vault.

The result of their endeavours was the excellent ‘Vaultage 78, the first of a series which gave the world the best of Brighton — and included on this album was the very same ‘Elvis Is Dead, very different to how it sounds now, all laid-back Showaddywaddy style, but unmistakable nevertheless.

Over-the-top antics

And apart from a drummer change, the Testies’ line-up of today is the same as it was on that album. I guess the story really starts there.

For the next two years or so you had to live in Brighton to hear anything much about Peter and the boys — and when you did, the news was invariably of the ‘shock horror’ variety. They didn’t do many gigs, and their paralytic over-the-top antics and nutty following meant that if they did play somewhere, they weren’t usually asked back.

By this time I had left Brighton for pastures new —but the news of various Testies debacles filtered through every now and then, and decent folks quivered in their safe Sussex homes at the mention of the wild ones’ name. I couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about; such a nice bunch of blokes . . . And then something happened which was a body-blow for the Testies (!) and everyone else involved in the Brighton music/community scene; in my opinion, the town has never really recovered from it.

Peter And The Test Tube Babies | Beach Babies

I can still remember the horror and incredulity with which I heard the news that the Resource Centre had been firebombed and completely gutted by unknown politically bigoted persons in the early hours of October 6, 1980. In one fell swoop, the backbone of Brighton punk and community action literally went up in smoke; presses, typewriters and everything else totally destroyed.

All sorts of rumours flew around as to the nature of the people responsible (who were never apprehended) and many criticisms were made of the attitude of the police, who appeared to some observers very pleased to see the back of a place which they had considered a thorn in their flesh for some time . . .

Anyway, it’s not for me to discuss that here; the fact is that the death of the Resource Centre and the Vault meant death to many bands who now had nowhere to rehearse, play gigs or get posters printed.

Sure, there were (and are) other venues in Brighton, some of them quite good; but the Vault was the only place where anyone, however inexperienced or thrash-orientated, could organise and play gigs —and that after all, was/is what punk is all about. The gutted shell of the Centre still stands, a monument to the good old days.

Oi – the Album

PETER AND the boys, like everyone else, were deprived of their rehearsal place and regular venue (and Ogs the drummer — though he wasn’t the drummer then —actually lived in the Vault for some time!)

But they managed to find somewhere else to rehearse and kept going, doing two tracks for ‘Oi — The Album’ and getting banned from just about every pub in Brighton. In 1981 things really started to happen; the then embryonic No Future label got wind of wild things happening in Brighton and grabbed the Testies with alacrity.

The result of this alliance was the classic (and totally true!) ‘Banned From The Pubs’ coupled with ‘Moped Lads’ and the even more classic ‘Peacehaven Wild Kids’. “It was this scorcher of an EP, along with their efforts on the ‘Oi’ album, which really pushed them into the punky limelight.

Despite the stigma (and the smegma!) the gigs gradually started to come — and the Testies took to the road with a vengeance — loud, pissed n’ proud.

That first EP did very well in the alternative charts, and was soon followed by their second and current effort. ‘Run Like Hell’ stands at the time of writing at number three in the alternative charts and 77 in the national top 100, and is testimony (Testie-money?) to the fact that Peter and The Test Tube Babies are making waves at last after four years’ service to the cause of paralytic, punky pandemonium.

So here am I sitting on the living room floor in the legendary Anarchy Ranch, home of the band, the day after their victorious gig at Brighton’s Xtreems Club.

Peter And The Test Tube Babies | Beach Babies

As I reminisce about the good old days with Peter, Derek (guitar) Trapper (bass) and Ogs (drums), they re-introduce me to a brew which I haven’t sampled for many a long year — the legendary Merrydown Dry Cider. Now this substance is the staple diet of the band and their entourage; and it must be said that it is indeed a formidably strong liquid to which I am now thoroughly converted (although I still swear by canned Fosters as first preference).

Whenever the band play outside Brighton they transport large quantities of the stuff around with them, and northern gigs are preceded by tours of the local off-licences to secure a regular supply! Forget your lager top, this is the stuff; woe betide anyone (apart from me) who challenges the Testies to a drinking competition!

On this particular afternoon, after consuming fair quantities of the fiery brew, myself, band and photographer decide to make the short walk from the Ranch down to the sea — and Brighton’s (in)famous nudist beach. And on the way down an astonishing sequence of events takes place which very nearly gives Sounds the ultimate exclusive and turns this feature into an obituary!

Knocked-down

Peter, not exactly sober and clutching the inevitable bottle of Merrydown, is halfway across the road leading to the beach when a car-driven by an obviously senile senior citizen veers sloppily onto the wrong side of the road and strikes him side on, smashing the bottle and knocking him down into the broken glass. The car stops for a second and then drives off, leaving Peter dazed and bleeding on the ground and the rest of us trying to make out the number plate.

Peter is soon on his feet, the flow of blood from his hand (narrowly missing the artery) is stemmed and with a couple of gulps of Merrydown he’s back in operation again; sufficiently so to take part in a silly game of beach football a few minutes later. After that incredible episode I think I’ve seen everything — but the Testies prove otherwise with a revolting strip show.

I can’t see anything more guaranteed to dissuade the average foreign tourist from ever visiting Brighton again than the sight of Peter and Co gland-handed on the sand (or the pebbles, anyway!)

Many bands deliberately cultivate an over-the-top image, but this lot really are like it all the time; the next evening I arrive at the Anarchy Ranch to hear Imagination blasting out at top volume and there is Peter, absolutely paralytic on a mixture of Merrydown and cherry brandy. (Cherry Brandy? Tastes like sodding cough mixture! But Pete’s reply, if pissed, is certainly to the point — “It’s f***ing alcoholic, isn’t it?”) ‘Nuff said.

Derek says

GATHERING TOGETHER band and entourage, all in various states of inebriation, we wind our way unsteadily to the bus stop, get the bus to the town centre and walk to the beach. I grab the chance to talk to Derek (the most sober of the bunch) in something resembling an interview situation. Tours? Future releases? Albums?

“We’ve done a mini-tour up north recently and were getting gigs as and where we can. As for an album release, that’s going to be a bit of a while yet; we’ve got to write some new material which has already been released on singles, and there’s no way we’re going to do that.

“We don’t have that many songs as it is, and some of those (‘Blowjobs’ for instance?) are so over the top that there’s no way we can release them! So we’ve got to get some new songs together.”

He goes on to tell me about an early plan, hatched by Chris Berry of No Future, which involved releasing a ‘See You In Court’ EP featuring ‘Blowjobs’ and several other totally obscene Testies classics.

Unfortunately, No Future bottled out — or maybe fortunately, because otherwise both band and label proprietors might well be in nick now. Well, now you know the Test Tubes’ history as well as their current state (pissed!) How about Testiepunk on Top Of The Pops? It’s up to you, folks.