-15

i remember: brainblast.

how do you tell a story like monty?
monty was a school friend, but more than that he was a legend to many of us.

when we first met (and i will have to defer to adam to relate exactly how we met) he was a mini leo sayer, the last time we met he was a pumped up semi muscled leo sayer with a receding hairline.
we shared a love of comics, rock music and science fiction and fantasy.

the 6th form was when we read sounds and monty could qualify for a wanger of the week. it showed our innocence that back then monty was embarrassed by the fact he had a lunch pack the size of a three-course meal.

adam and i did despicable and cruel things to his vinyl copy of rainbow’s “long live rock and roll”. it started innocently, as all such things do. we cut an additional grove in it so it jumped on the on the first track, (it had to be said it added to the overall sound of the album). but we were young and rather than stop there we went for it. we baked it, we glued, we skidded it across the floor, we used it as a frisbee, we stood on it and we even let adam’s dog take a leak on it. it was somewhat overkill. (to be honest i think this is where all my bad karma started from.

monty used to come around to my mum’s place (oddly i never really thought of it as my dad’s, always my mum’s), where we would listen records. where most heavy metal fans might indulge in some air guitar histrionics monty would arrange objects from my room into a drum kit and then he would “drum” along to the track that was playing.
now monty wanted to be a drummer, somewhere between neal peart and cozy powell, but he also wanted to be a vocalist, a cross between geoff tate and ronnie james dio. i never got to hear him sing, i did get to hear him drum.

it was a night that will live on in the memories of those who were there, and many now claim to have been there who obviously never were. for this one night alone monty deserves to be a legend to be held in awe until the end of time.
in bumbles wine bar in acton a legend was born. he who cannot be named (or joel for short) was playing with his band “the moonsters” they were an effective punk 4 piece. the venue was crowded. monty, yorkie and myself were there. the set was coming to a close. yorkie was crying out for their rendition of “english country garden”. monty was banging the life out of a fire extinguisher (which he had been done pretty much all through the night). joel (who really can’t be named) saw an opportunity to create rock history and got monty up to play the drums. now picture this: a sweaty cramped wine bar, jammed to capacity with 60 or so people, a drum kit that comprised of a bass drum, a tom, a snare and two cymbals and monty sitting astride the drum stool. joel (who is here under a false name) hits the first chord of the tune.
instead of a plodding 4/4 beat, monty unleashes (and truly that is the best word to describe what issued forth) a drum sound that shook the very foundations of the earth, waking the demons that slumber in the bowels of the earth.
in an instant bumbles wine bar was transformed into madison square gardens and monty was playing in front of an orgasmic crowd who worshipped every roll, beat and paradiddle he could muster. it was magnificent. the drums roared. the drums called forth the thunder. it was a cry to rock and roll war.
it was such a shame he was out of time with the rest of the band.
yorkie made a bootleg of the gig. we still smile like cheshire cats when we listen to it.

for one man that would have been enough but monty still had more to offer.

we still have memories of him in his tight red pants (a tale for another blog).
we still fondly remember him saying “they are so tight” (this was of rush and not of his tight red pants…)

but it is his love of rush we come back to.
i have already mentioned he had a receding hairline. for some reason, and i no longer know if it is based in fact or just some bizarre schoolyard logic, but we believed this phil collins like loss of hair was due to monty rubbing his hands on his forehead.
he had coined the phrase “brainblast” for star wars, somehow (and again i have no idea if it is based on reality or we just made it up) it became associated with rush. to this day you will see grown men, who should know better, raising their hands to their foreheads, rubbing them backwards and forwards while chanting (in a strained and slightly high pitched voice) “rush they were a brainblast, so tight, a brainblast…”
this was the cult of monty.

fast-forward a couple of years. i am in the virgin megastore and i buying a copy of rush’s, then, new album “moving pictures”, i hand over the disc and i am ready with the money when all of a sudden the shop assistant went “rush rush brainblast…”
it was an indescribable moment of wonderment on my part.
his legend had spread.

i haven’t seen monty in close on 20 years. but his memory lives on.
and now you dear reader are touched by his magic as well.
“ooh so tight.”