Mr Disco... who is and why was 'Mr Disco'.
Before '
Anatomy of a Hit' and well after Deuce by Cleva Cleva (and after Motional... another story)... there was Mr Disco... the heir apparent to the Cock Rock Crown.
In Australia during the 80's, there was a famous rock band called The Angels whom used have a huge hit with a song called... "Am I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again".
The band had quite a large live following... I remember seeing them at of all places the Skate Ranch in Nunawading during an all ages disco (again... another story.)
The song "Am I Ever..." was a particular crowd favorite with the audience answering the question posed in the Chorus... "Am I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again..." with "No Way Get F'd, F off"
Fast forward to more recent times and I had the wild idea to not only cover the track 'and' include the audience refrain... but to also convert to a dance/disco number.
Genius... maybe not.
I got together with my good friend Richard Mataska whom helped me get all the base music into the computer... and we then wrote new music to go with music and samples from the original.
I have the track somewhere in storage... will endeavor to find it and upload it here for a future post.
For now though... to follow is a cut and paster of a BIO put together with
Tim Giles (a seriously talented and funny writer I have worked with in several businesses dating back as far as 1999) answering for all time who is and why was Mr Disco...
-----------
“Am I ever gonna see your face again?… No way get f____d, f__k off!!!”
-----------
If you entered any high school in the eighties it would not take long to find a group of teenage boys calling themselves a band. A rite of passage along with pimples and stolen kisses, a musical dalliance to be explored through gigs at birthday parties and youth clubs, and if you were lucky perhaps even the local skate ranch. With unbridled enthusiasm and a mastery of three chords they were the true believers of Oz rock. Playing music as god intended it, as a means to pick up chicks.
Most soon succumbed to vocational realities. Cutting their hair and getting “real” jobs packing shelves rather than the stadiums of their dreams. Days in cock rock that never quite made it past puberty. But then there was Mr Disco.
Armed with a fourth chord and enough pubic hair to satisfy even the most hirsute fetishist, Mr Disco burst out of the eighties to become one of the most influential bands of the post Gulf War era. Bourbon fuelled and provocative, Mr Disco pushed the limits of a conservative society crying out to be liberated, (or for their money back, one could never be sure). They were the avant guard and set the precedent. In fact judges in criminal nuisance cases are following many of these precedents to this day.
Mr Disco formed back in the crazy days of the early eighties at that bastion of adolescent intimacy, the Blue Light Disco. Lead singer Art Pamphlett fondly recalls…
“I was pashing this chick and the next thing she starts spewing up Brandavino and Twisties everywhere. So I go an’ tell one of the supervisors to go get a mop and who should show up to clean up the chunder than Lucky Quimby. Seems he was on a bond for some thing or other, and the coppers had him on mop duty at the Blue Light. Every time I smell vomit nowadays, and lets face it that’s quite often in a rock band, I can’t help but thank that lucky quirk of fate and gastric juices that brought us together.”
Art’s distinctive vocals have been a feature of the band since the earliest days. Somewhere between a yodel and a Muslim call to prayer, the squeaky falsetto tones are a legacy of a locker room towel flick gone wrong. Rather than being a setback, however, Art sees having testicles that refuse to drop as being the godsend that set him on the springboard to rock immortality. It also came in handy during the subsequent clashes with schoolyard bullies and nightclub bouncers that punctuated his earliest song lyrics. One cannot listen to “But my names on the door you sadistic prick” off the “Beer Bong” album without sharing his pain.
Art’s startling blue eyes and shiny, bald head, are in complete contrast to the boyish good-looks and rock-star spiked hair of Roger ‘The Admiral’ Browning. Almost replaced by a drum machine in the late eighties, Browning managed to hold his spot in the line up due to diligent practice and the need for three people to move Quimby’s antique bass amp around between gigs.
Further illustrating the differences within this unholy trinity is the effeminate locks of Lucky Quimby. Looking more like a pole surfing alter boy than the bile spilling anarchist he aspires to be, Quimby pushes the limits of artistic performance through energetic stage presence and pitch perfect flatulence. Known for his penchant for squeezing one out to give resonance to a bass line, Quimby adhered to a strict dietary program that enhanced his performance. He pioneered the use of rectal release as an art form. A path since followed by luminaries Mr Methane, The Tokyo Shock Boys and Anthony Mundine.
Caught in the twilight between street credibility and commercial acceptance, Mr Disco were the true outlaws of the beer barn era. They played hard and they partied even harder often to the chagrin of their contemporaries. Pamphlett still bristles at the hypocrisy of the time.
“Cold Chisel go on the Count Down awards and trash the set and end up as legendary anti heroes. We do the same thing on the Children’s Hospital Good Friday Appeal and we get hounded out of town.”
The off stage exploits of the band should not overshadow the music. Whilst the bar room brawls with the rhythm section of Wa Wa Nee made the papers, it was the live show that stamped the Mr Disco sound. As the world recoiled at the threat of Aids and hid their love behind layers of latex, Mr Disco championed the truest love of all on the “Feeding the chooks” EP. Pamphlett summing up the mood of the times with the tortured refrain…
“How can you ignore me and say its not right, when I paint your portrait on the inside of my sheets every night.”
Despite the success of the 1990 international tour, personal differences began to surface within the band forcing them to leave “Fairstar the fun ship” in Vanuato, and make their own way back to Australia. A dark period for “the discos” and despite Art Pamphlett’s brief re emergence into the spotlight as “Sphinktor” in televisions Gladiators, individually they could not capture the magic that sparkled when they were together. Until now.
Older and wiser, the original members of Mr Disco stumbled into each other at a St Kilda soup kitchen one frosty winters night in early 2001. Agreeing to put their personal differences aside the trio vowed to have one last crack at the big time. Pamphlett and Browning are now 36, with Quimby the baby of the group at 34. Sober and focused for perhaps the first time in their lives, Mr Disco have rediscovered the edge that catapulted them to the second or third tier of rock stardom in the eighties.
Mr Disco’s new single, "Am I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again" is an interpretation of the Angels Oz rock classic. The song has evolved into an anthem with the sing along chant "no way, get f____d, f__k off" becoming an Australian tradition. Whilst never having the opportunity to grace the stage with Doc and the boys back in the days of Count Down and thin leather ties, Mr Disco share a special affinity with this song having been told to fuck off more times than Nikki Webster’s publicist.
This new version of “Am I ever…” has a distinctive, unique style somewhere between rock and 80’s disco with fast-paced rhythms, driving base and sharp vocals.
Enjoy…
-------
Mr Disco are…
(Lead singer of Mr Disco – Art Pamphlett – backstage at the 2001 Aria awards.)
Art Pamphlett
Art Pamphlett or ‘Art’ (pronounced ‘Art) was born Arthur Mendleson Bach Pamphlett in the foyer of Her Majesties Theatre in 1966. He arrived unannounced during intermission in a performance of Wagner's Die Walkure, in which his mother had the lead. Young Art's first impressions were of his mother clad in full Nordic operatic regalia, complete with helmet and horns, a factor that perhaps could explain his later fondness for bovine company.
Being born into a musical family exposed Pamphlett to a world of classical music that would influence his later artistic endeavours. Somewhat of a child prodigy he possessed an angelic voice and by the age of seven was the featured attraction of the local church choir. Despite a propensity for random displays of public nudity, he appeared headed for the conservatorium until fate intervened in the form of a senseless locker room prank.
Despite the efforts of the best surgeons in Melbourne his testicles could not be retrieved, leaving Pamphlett with a distinctive quavering falsetto that would become his signature.
Once the stitches healed, Pamphlett attempted to return to the life of a normal Boronia schoolboy. Disillusioned by classical music, Art threw himself headlong into the vibrant music of the time. "The Stars on 45", "Hooked on Classics", it was an exciting time to be alive and by the time he reached high school Art Pamphlett knew he wanted to be but one thing - a rock star.
(Lucky Quimby during rehearsals for Young Talent Time)
Lucky Quimby
As a child Lucky dreamed of joining the Young Talent Team. Together with his imaginary friend Jerome, Lucky practiced the routines he hoped would ultimately let him join Johnny and the team and make him a star. Each Sunday afternoon he sat glued to the small black and white TV that his new dad "Macka" had installed in the trailer and fantasised about singing duets with Sally, and punching the shit out of Jamie.
Around this time Lucky discovered that he had a very special talent. The ability to fart in perfect pitch. Jerome was very impressed and convinced Lucky to audition. In the weeks leading up to the big day Lucky practiced his act until he could produce a rendition of the shows signature "All my loving" tune that would bring a tear to the eye of all present. Jerome suggested that in future perhaps they should open a window or that Lucky should lay off the Pickled Egg and Asparagus Salad beforehand at least.
What followed at the audition has been the subject of conjecture and speculation ever since. What is not in dispute is that fact that Quimby's Luck ran out. When he regained consciousness Lucky would tell those present that Johnny Young threw the first punch. Young denies that the alleged incident even took place. Jerome feels that perhaps Quimby should have used a microphone rather than straining for extra volume in the spacious sound studio. At the very least he should not have worn his cricket whites even if it was on the way to the match.
The humiliation of the YTT rejection cut deep within Quimby sending him on a downward spiral of petty crime and delinquency. Until that fateful day when fate introduced him to Art Pamphlett and the seeds of Mr Disco were sown. Jerome faded quietly into the background.
(The drum machine that almost replaced Roger during the 80’s.)
Roger ‘The Admiral’ Browning
Roger Browning never quite got over his abandonment as a child. Unlike Kipling's Mowgli or Rice-Burrough's Greystoke, Roger did not emerge stronger and wiser from his experience being nursed in the wild. Whilst Romulus and Remus went on to found Rome after suckling at the teat of an obliging she wolf, Roger simply re entered civilisation confused and with a yearning to be able to lick clean those places that his Dingo foster family seemed to attend to with glee.
One of thirteen children, Browning had simply been overlooked by his parents as they packed up the station wagon for the trip back to the city. By the time they realised their mistake they were already several hours into the return journey and enjoying the added space that Roger's absence provided.
They agonised for minutes over whether to return to the remote picnic ground. The deadlock finally being broken by his father who decided that twelve was probably a more manageable number and was looking forward to returning to Melbourne in time to check out Abigail's tits on "Number 96" on the tellie.
When Roger stumbled naked and filthy three years later into the sleepy seaside town of Neptunes Kiss, he had no memory of his previous family. What followed was a series of orphanages and foster homes before Roger was finally adopted by Gladys and Frank Browning, a retired couple who had devoted their lives to the pursuit of naturism and sailing.
Freed from the constraints of clothes at last, Browning began to slowly adapt to his new environment. It was not uncommon to find him most afternoons out on the small bay in his dinghy, a habit that possibly lead to him receiving the nickname "The Admiral". (Art Pamphlett disputes this however claiming that it was more to do with his habit of dropping Bovril Bullets that would sink the Bismarck, one of the reasons that Art's mum to this day locks the bathroom whenever Browning visits)
Barely able to speak and with limited social skills it was only natural that Browning would be drawn to the drums for artistic expression. Unconstrained by artificial restrictions of tempo and rhythm Browning developed a unique style that was instantly recognised by Art Pamphlett whilst holidaying in Neptune’s Kiss one summer, and made him a natural choice for Mr Disco. The rest as they say is history.
***** UPDATE *****
Have just posted a new story on my 'finding' the long lost recording of Mr Disco's classic 'hit'... Am I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again.
You can read the back story and listen to the track here.
