ISSUE 17 // ALONE by TEO Magazine

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IN THIS ISSUE

82 32 18

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12 14 18 32 58 62 82 86 J U L Y

OCTANIC: THE MEN BEHIND THE MASK OCTANIC FRONTMAN JAY SHEPHERDSON REFLECTS ON THE BAND’S JOURNEY THUS FAR, AND REVEALS PLANS FOR NEW MUSIC AND A NEW BASS PLAYER. WATCHTOWERS POEM BY AIDAN CIBICH ALONE FASHION EDITORIAL INTRODUCING COBRA EXPERIMENTAL THREE-PIECE BAND COBRA ARE ABOUT TO OFFER UP THEIR FIRST STUDIO ALBUM. WE WENT BEHIND THE SCENES TO FIND OUT WHAT WENT DOWN IN THE STUDIO AND HOW THE GUYS WENT ABOUT CAPTURING THEIR UNIQUE SOUND. ICE CUBES AND COLD TEA STORY BY RHYS STALBA-SMITH AUTOPSY OF ADELAIDE PHOTOGRAPHY FEATURE BY SCOTT MCCARTEN THE LOST BAND OF THE ‘70s: NECROMANDUS NECROMANDUS HAD TIES TO BLACK SABBATH AND A PROMISING RECORD DEAL, BUT WITNESSED ITS OWN DEMISE BEFORE RELEASING THE FIRST ALBUM. THE ONLY SURVIVING MEMBER HAS REINCARNATED THE BAND AND REVEALS WHAT WENT WRONG SO MANY DECADES AGO. THERE WAS A HOLE THERE POEM BY BIANCA IOVINO I S S U E

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Closet Mod www.closetmod.com

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photo: Annabelle Sadler model: Storm Calysta

FEATURED CONTRIBUTORS

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BROOKE KASTELYN

JACK FENBY

I’m currently listening to Lorde’s Melodrama, on repeat. There’s so many songs on there that are way too relatable.

The best thing about photography is that it allows me to do what I want; to capture what I see and what I want to express. Photography allows me to share this with people. I want to be your eyes.

MAKEUP ARTIST

My go-to makeup products are definitely my eyebrow pencil and pomade; I could not live without them. Most people don’t know that I lived most of my life in country towns. My dream makeup canvas is Lana Del Rey. 100%. I’m inspired by my family, friends and all the people I surround myself with. They inspire me to do everything. One makeup trend that we need to abandon is sharing videos of people applying makeup with household items. Honey, that boiled egg isn’t going to work like a beauty blender.

PHOTOGRAPHER

My current playlist features Les Sins, every morning. Tortured Souls, every evening. Nils Frahm, every night. I’ve always wanted to photograph New York/Paris/ London Fashion Week. I like the weird and the obscure, the ones pushing boundaries. I try not to follow specific individuals. I want to keep doing me and not ride off other people’s waves. But in saying that I am always sifting through magazines, blogs and Instagram pages. I work best with beers and vibes. I’m here for the good times; here to make friends and do cool shit. Three words that describe my work are Candid. Melancholy. Curiosity.

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EDITOR’S LETTER We take you on a darker journey in issue 17; exploring loss and abandonment, and delving deep into feelings of grief and neglect. South Australia’s Scott McCarten is no stranger to isolation. In fact, he chooses to venture out into the night, alone, searching through derelict buildings and yards. Scott is passionate about sharing their stories and ensuring their memories live on. In this issue, he takes us on the journey with him.

Though, there are spots of light in this issue. We’ve handpicked two unique Adelaide bands that have new material coming up. We talk you through the recording process of Cobra’s forthcoming prog-rock record, and reveal some exclusive images taken in the studio. Also with fresh music on the way is melodic death metal outfit, Octanic. We get together with the group’s frontman to discuss the band’s exciting journey and what’s on the horizon for them. UK’s lost-but-not-forgotten band of the ’70s, Necromandus, has made a comeback, with just one remaining member of the original band, Frank Hall. We chat with the founding member to discover the band’s history; how things fell apart just as they were on the brink of success, and how Necromandus was reborn. Our contributors share their interpretations of lonesomeness through fashion, poetry, illustration and storytelling. Reoccurring associations of angst, worthlessness and emptiness appear—ironically suggesting that we are not alone in our feelings of aloneness. Susannah x

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FOUNDER & EDITOR

SUSANNAH IOANNOU DEPUTY EDITORS

ESTHER REYNOLDS-VERCO LUCY AHERN VANESSA LOCAMPO ART DIRECTION & DESIGN

COURTNEY ROBINSON MARKETING CONSULTANT

OLGA WINTER LOGO DESIGN

JANICE CUI

CONTRIBUTORS JOURNALISTS Ebony Story

CREATIVE WRITERS Aidan Cibich Bianca Iovino Rhys Stalba-Smith

PHOTOGRAPHY Andrei Ciobanu Candice Carlin Dimitra Koriozos Jack Fenby Neon Theory Scott McCarten

ST YLING Susannah Ioannou

HAIR Rock Retro Scissors Katie Kromwijk

MAKEUP Kristina Persichini-Graziano

MODELS Rin Models

BEHIND THE SCENES Leah Metaxas

ARTISTS Creative Pear-spective

PARTNERS Rock Retro Scissors Tit4Tat Designs

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COVER IMAGE MODEL

Rin Models Fika Tamiru HAIR

Rock Retro Scissors Katie Kromwijk MAKEUP

Kristina Persichini-Graziano STYLING

Susannah Ioannou PHOTOGRAPHER

Neon Theory

HAIR AND MAKEUP ASSISTANT

Leah Metaxas

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OCTANIC /

THE MEN BEHIND THE MASK OCTANIC FRONTMAN JAY SHEPHERDSON REFLECTS ON THE BAND’S JOURNEY THUS FAR, AND REVEALS PLANS FOR NEW MUSIC AND A NEW BASS PLAYER.

With metal slowly establishing its dominance in the Adelaide music scene, local band Octanic is drawing listeners in with intricate, technical melodies; brashly powerful vocals; and bold drums, fussing away in the underground and tinkering with their sound. And although they haven’t been shy about playing gigs, it’s only been within the past year or so that they’ve stepped out into the sunlight with their debut album, The Mask of Hypocrisy. Octanic’s lineup has changed over the years; their sound started out as a mix of modern and symphonic Euro metal with tinges of industrial and metalcore, but now you could say they’re a bit more grooveladen in their melodic death metal. Octanic came together through mutual friends and a passion for heavy music. The band comprises of Jay Shepherdson (vocals), Andrew Baillie (keys), Daniel Cederblad (lead guitar), Stefan Butler (guitar) and Scott Powell (drums). Together, with now-departed bass player, Aaron Cains, they released The Mask of Hypocrisy in late 2015.

The highly rewarding process of writing an album can either be hindered or sped along depending on the people involved, but Jay Shepherdson tells TEO that the guys definitely gel as a songwriting unit. “We’re all involved in the creative process, even though there are three main songwriters in the band…we’re also really lucky that there are no egos involved, so it makes it really easy for us to sit back and constructively break down and tweak the songs.” He admits that Andrew is the founding father, so to speak, being a classically trained pianist and having written the majority of the songs on The Mask of Hypocrisy, with the help of their two guitarists. Octanic worked with the internationally recognised UKbased agency, Metal Music Bookings & Management, and their newly formed record company INTO Records from 2014–2016. With Octanic’s slightly Euro sound, being signed to MMB for those years really helped bridge the gap between Australia and the rest of the world. “It gave us access to opportunities we wouldn’t have had whilst self-managed,” Jay explains.

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T E O M A G Ebony Story PHOTOGRAPHY Andrei Ciobanu

WORDS

The band’s relationship with MMB allowed the guys to fly to England to promote The Mask of Hypocrisy, and also film the video for ‘King for a Day.’ Jay says the whole tour was fantastic, but the highlight for the band was performing at the Rock On Green Festival on the worldrenowned O2 Forum stage alongside Tarja Turunen and Amaranthe. Everyone knows that Australian crowds like to get quite rowdy, and English crowds in comparison can seem almost a little restrained. Jay says, “even though they don’t go crazy like some of the Aussie metal

After releasing their album, touring overseas and playing countless shows in Adelaide (including their 100th show during December last year), the question is: when can we expect new music? Jay assures us that new material is on the cards for this year; the guys have recently been in the studio demo recording 14 new songs as part of their pre-production process, with the release of a brand new album expected by year’s end. Looks like you’ll just have to check them out live until then—and that’s an experience in itself.

crowds do, you could definitely tell they really enjoyed our tunes and what we were doing on stage.” Playing with Sweden’s Amaranthe strikes one band off their ‘to perform/tour with’ wish-list, and damn is Octanic’s list a high-profile one! It has Metallica and

Rammstein just to name a few, but Jay tells TEO that by meeting and touring with a band, they always take

something away from the experience. Whether it be wisdom, perspective or great memories, he says it’s always rewarding to tour and open for the bigger bands.

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FOLLOW OCTANIC

facebook.com/octanic instagram.com/octanic twitter.com/octanic octanic.com youtube.com/user/octanicband

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WATCHTOWERS POEM BY AIDAN CIBICH

And so my heart does break upon these crashing waves, along the shore, in quiet distress— as I cry your name. Forever more. Imprinted on these broken bones and my shattered, tangled heart. The moment of clarity— lost in your eyes. And you feel it; the last breath of life, as I feel the last warm embrace of safety taken once more. As you bathe in the cold morning sun, this bloodline begins to fail. As there’s no remorse in your eyes, only this resolve can keep you alive, and the memories of yesteryear. A view from beyond— empty and callous as it carries us away. Guiding light no more— watchtowers in the night. You taste the venom as I feel the teeth and claws, looking into your dying eyes. Was I ever worth all this?

Aidan is the vocalist, songwriter, guitarist, bass player and drummer for the solo project Apophis. FOLLOW AIDAN

facebook.com/ApophisAu instagram.com/Apophis_aidan_cibich

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ILLUSTRATION Creative

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Pear-spective

LIBERTY EMMA

I N S TAG R A M l i b e r t ye m m a _ co l l e c t i o n s W EBS I T E w w w. l i b e r t ye m m a . n e t

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Rock Retro Scissors Katie Kromwijk MAKEUP

Kristina Persichini-Graziano STYLING

Susannah Ioannou MODEL

Rin Models Fika Tamiru PHOTOGRAPHER

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HAIR AND MAKEUP ASSISTANT

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FIKA WEARS LEONARD ST SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER JACKET LEONARD ST HARMONY MAXI SKIRT

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FIKA WEARS LEONARD ST ANDROGYNOUS COAT HER OWN STOCKINGS

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T E OWEARS M A G FIKA

LEONARD ST CRUSHED FUNNEL SWEATER VINTAGE TOP FROM SWOP GORMAN MID RISE JEAN GORMAN PATCH BOOT

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FIKA WEARS GORMAN MERINO POLO TOP LEONARD ST STARMAN VELVET JUMPSUIT GORMAN ELKE STACKED RING

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INTRODUCING /

COBRA

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Anonymous PHOTOGRAPHY Jack Fenby 33 WORDS

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EXPERIMENTAL THREE-PIECE BAND COBRA ARE ABOUT TO OFFER UP THEIR FIRST STUDIO ALBUM. WE WENT BEHIND THE SCENES TO FIND OUT WHAT WENT DOWN IN THE STUDIO AND HOW THE GUYS WENT ABOUT CAPTURING THEIR UNIQUE SOUND.

Experimental progressive rock outfit Cobra have been in the studio—at Adelaide’s Big Window—tracking their debut album Locking Tusks With Creation. Joining them in studio were producers, Ben Golotta and Kyle Krishnappa. The three-piece group, whose current lineup consists of Yanni Apostolidis, Jonty Czuchwicki and Kyle Clarke, blends the heavy elements of doom, sludge and southern-groove metal with technical, conceptual and psychedelic conventions common to avant-garde players. The result bears similarities to acts such as Tool, Mastodon and Opeth, while maintaining a distinct musical identity one can only describe as unique to Cobra. The material that will feature on the 45-minute album dates to the band’s origins in 2012: two and a half years were spent writing and a further two and a half on honing the material live, including a large tour of Indonesia and another of Australia in the past year. Recorded with ex-Cobra bassist Jack Crawford (Slick Arnold, Moonhunter), who had a hand in writing some of the songs, Cobra’s experience and expertise allowed drummer Jonty Czuchwicki to record all his drumming in unbroken takes, including the sprawling 18-minute title track. An Ampeg Bass Cabinet and Marshall Guitar Cabinet were each mic’d in isolated rooms with

a live mix being sent upstairs to the club floor through headphones, so the band could jam together. After a couple of hours set up, the principal recording was completed in a gruelling eight hours of workman-like efficiency. With a solid foundation of bass and drums, guitarist Yanni Apostolidis then re-recorded his guitar takes with a chunky Gibson SG and a vintage Fender Stratocaster, even utilising a Coopers bottle cap on a pick scrape for his solo in ‘The Golden Age.’ An array of synthesizers decorates the walls of the control room at Big Window, allowing for spurts of creativity on the fly while listening back to takes. This resulted in Jack Crawford arranging several melodies on a vintage Wurlitzer that will appear on the record, adding a climactic and gothic layer to Cobra that has never been heard before. While Big Window has primarily been utilised by dance acts such as Motez, Tigerilla and Tkay Maidza it was always a goal for Ben Golotta to record heavier acts there. Locking Tusks With Creation is due out before the year’s end, and once people hear how great it sounds, the floodgates will surely open for heavier acts. Until then, you can gaze at our exclusive photo set of Cobra in the studio, captured through the eye of Jack Fenby.

FOLLOW COBRA

cobramusic.bandcamp.com facebook.com/SuckleFromTheCobrasTeatWhosSweetMilkGivesUsWisdom soundcloud.com/cobra420 musicglue.com/cobra

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ICE CUBES AND COLD TEA Lucy gripped the kettle. Throttled it. “Goddamn it,” she said to herself. She’d been holding it for an hour now—boiling, cooling and boiling again. She just couldn’t let go. She looked at her white knuckles—ugly brutish things that were the ends to her sausage-like fingers wrapped around the wooden handle of the cast-iron kettle. At least that wouldn’t break. She wasn’t strong enough to break through wood and iron—unlike last night, when she’d shattered the glass with her grip. Choked to death by the mocking, melting ice cubes. That’s what really hurt. Not the endless bleeding afterwards or the bacterial wipes. Not even when the boys left. It was the bloody ice cubes. All she’d wanted was to have a nice iced tea on the veranda. She wanted to feel the wind blowing across the hard desert, buffeting their defiant three-bedroom house. She wanted to listen to the corrugated symphony flap its gums like an old duck at baccarat. But she couldn’t. All that effort to fill the tray and freeze them overnight, and the goddamned cubes had melted. The freezer itself had gone belly up too. If Earl and Dawn weren’t home with the replacement part soon, all that food would be lost. Even the rising steam left her wanting. The low hiss was like the kids’ murmurs, crying out for her attention in the middle of the night. It was a siren for duty, for her kids. Now that they were gone, she was unfulfilled. She just wanted to be needed again.

She loved them all, but Dawn was hers. They all knew it. Four men in the household. Surrounded by ‘em, Lucy’d been a lonely island with only harbours for docking, never for escaping. But then Dawn entered their lives and suddenly that was okay. Her little Dawn. Well, not little anymore, but she would always be Lucy’s littl’un. She remembered how they used to cook. Baking bread, blood puddings, roast dinners; they were an outstanding little team. Then school started, and suddenly it was only in the afternoons and on weekends. It was as if at an early age Dawn had known education was important. Well, important to her. It was only half the slice, Lucy thought. Not all education was from a book. Lucy unwrapped her hand from the kettle and looked at it, tracing the creases with her eyes she knew that even they ended. Even their grand valleys and gorges became nothing but smooth surfaces on her hard droughtblistered hands. Her blood washed through the white meat and coloured her hand alive. She folded it into a great fist and didn’t let go. Of course she was happy for her, Dawn. She was proud of what her girl was doing, going to the big city and all and igniting the lights of a thousand questions. What’s this? What’s that? What time? An array of life she didn’t much like, if she was honest. She was simple, she knew. Earl was simple, he knew. Even the boys were simple, and they’d bloody learnt to know. But Dawn had always been different. Quicker, smarter, wittier—it made Lucy proud that Dawn had come from her and Earl. That after

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four goes they got it right. If not right, then different. A difference she thought would hang around. A difference she thought would battle the boys and their brawn mindset to running farms. That for every fart echoing around the household there’d be an evil eye for it. That for every bum note sang, there’d be an angelic one echoing against the radio. Because how would reading a medical book pay the shearing debts? How would it fill their dams? Lucy lit the gas top again and put the kettle on, wondering who was selfish. Was it her or Dawn, or was it the university? That bloody madhouse. Fools spending money they didn’t have to get jobs that didn’t exist. She knew that, too bloody well. Her own father had done that. Spent money that didn’t exist to chase dogs that didn’t win, and where had that left her? With independence! The independence to leave home. The independence to marry herself off. The independence to rear children without any books other than the good Lord’s. No, she decided as the kettle began to hiss, she was not selfish. It was the university who’d corrupted her daughter and was taking her away. Dawn would never be selfish like that. She would never hurt her poor dear mother. Earl’s ute rattled into the driveway and after a pause, died. Lucy listened to the two doors open and close. She listened to how their walk informed her that they had the part—the thermostat. She listened to their confidence, their whistling mingling with the kettle’s and echoing

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off into the dust. They’d won themselves a winner, as her dad used to say. The backdoor opened and Earl walked in. “A cuppa, love? I’d love one,” he chortled. Earl sifted through a handful of letters as he sat at the table. “There’s a hole in the fence past Welshman’s pond. I’ll head out tomorra morn and fix it. Hopefully haven’t lost too many—hey there’s a postcard from Dawn! She loves it still, grades are good, met a man, renting a new place, trying new foods, yadda yadda. Jeez by the sounds of it that little doctor of ours will never come home!” Lucy thought of the damned ice cubes again and cried with the kettle.

WORDS Rhys

Stalba-Smith PHOTOGRAPHY Candice Carlin

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AUTOPSY OF ADELAIDE

Scott McCarten is the artist behind Autopsy of Adelaide; a South Australian photography website with a focus on the abandoned, derelict, forgotten and hidden. The Adelaide Hills resident spends his time researching and gaining access to old and neglected houses, factories, commercial buildings, tunnels, basements, junkyards and farms. He seeks to expose the beauty of decay and to share forgotten history—showing a side of his city that most don’t ever see. Scott feels a sense of awe and excitement in being the first person to enter a space that’s been deserted for decades. He confesses that each adventure is also an exploration of his own fears of loss and abandonment. Although Scott mostly features South Australian locations, he also includes his adventures to other parts of Australia. He rarely reveals the locations and only takes with him the images he’s captured. It’s important to Scott that each nook and cranny is left as it was, ensuring the integrity is upheld and the memories remain untouched.

FOLLOW AUTOPSY OF ADELAIDE

facebook.com/ScottMccartenPhotography instagram.com/autopsyofadelaide autopsyofadelaide.com

PHOTOGRAPHY Scott

McCarten

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THE LOST BAND OF THE â&#x20AC;&#x2122;70s:

NECROMANDUS

WORDS

Ebony Story

PHOTOGRAPHY Supplied 82

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NECROMANDUS HAD TIES TO BLACK SABBATH AND A PROMISING RECORD DEAL, BUT WITNESSED ITS OWN DEMISE BEFORE RELEASING THE FIRST ALBUM. THE ONLY SURVIVING MEMBER HAS REINCARNATED THE BAND AND REVEALS WHAT WENT WRONG SO MANY DECADES AGO.

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You can’t count the number of incredible progressive/ rock/metal bands and artists that were making music in the 1970s. You’ve got Genesis, Yes, Black Sabbath, Jimi Hendrix, and Deep Purple, just to name a few. And while these bands were quickly on the rise, so was another: Necromandus. They were Bill Branch (vocals), Barry Dunnery (lead guitar), Dennis McCarten (bass) and Frank Hall (drums). In 1973 Rolling Stone went as far to say that their music could be described as “Yes plays Black Sabbath.” They should’ve been one of the greats. Hell, Black Sabbath’s Tony Iommi was their good friend and manager! But then Tommy left, followed by Barry, which led to Vertigo Records dropping the band, and their debut album was never to be released. Decades later, Frank stumbled upon the old Necromandus recordings on sale with the album name Orexis Of Death, released by someone unknown— and it was receiving global acclaim. By the time Frank Hall decided to officially reissue the album in 2010, he was the only surviving member. Which brings us to 2017, and the reincarnation of Necromandus. Joining Frank to create another Necromandus album is John Branch (Bill’s son) on vocals, Dean Newton on guitar, John Marcangelo playing keys and Banjo Cunanan on bass. They’ve brought Necromandus’ 1970s essence to the present day—and the result is unforgettable. TEO: There’s a whole lot of history behind this album. How do you feel now that it’s just been released? Frank: I’m really, really pleased. I don’t think it’s struck home yet, actually. We’ve been working on it off and on for about two years; just getting everyone together to record was a juggle because everyone plays in different bands. But I’m actually over the moon. Getting this bunch of musicians together to write a Necromandus album—is this an ode to your old bandmates? That’s true, yeah. I put Necromandus together in 1972, and I always wanted to play drums in a band. So I looked around for the best musicians I could find which were Barry Dunnery, Dennis McCarten and Bill Branch. I also had a friendship with Tony Iommi and Bill Ward from Black Sabbath and they were completely enthusiastic about our band. Tony told us he’d put money up to help us do an album, the first Necromandus album, and so we recorded that in Morgan Studios in Willesden, London—I couldn’t believe I was there. We came from humble backgrounds and Tony and Bill helped us in a really big way.

Some of the songs are based off old recordings from around 1973; what was it like to go back and listen to them? That’s right. ‘Don’t Look Down, Frank’ is from the original album and that song is about me when I was pretending to be a scaffolder on a building in London and I hated heights. I was absolutely terrified. So we wrote a song about it. Then we’ve got ‘Limpert Man,’ which is about a friend who wasn’t really a friend; we were just writing songs about things that we knew. ‘I’ve Been Evil,’ that’s from way back; Bill got into a little trouble over some marijuana and wrote a song about being caught possessing it—and it was a totally evil thing back in those days. Those recordings brought up loads of old memories. I’d never been in a recording studio back then, and writing them and getting them down in the studio—I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. We worked with Mike Butcher (Rod Stewart, Black Sabbath) who Tony Iommi recommended as an incredible engineer and we spent four days just getting the drum sound. Back in those days I thought a drum sound was just a drum sound. And at the end of the day everyone was thinking, “Is that really us? Do we really sound like that?” Great memories, really great memories. It’s incredible that even though the original Necromandus album wasn’t officially released, you’ve somehow cultivated a following. Yes, we’ve got fans over in Australia—in fact Necromandus has fans all over the world that I didn’t know about. There’s actually a young guitarist from Queensland and his name is Connor Mitchell. His band is called Hobo Magic and this young band has been influenced by the very first Necromandus album! He got in touch and said he’d been really influenced by our old stuff, and I couldn’t believe it. This album that somehow made it all over the world. ‘Hymn To Her’ really feels like the ’70s with some progressive influence from Yes. Who were you listening to in the ’70s? We were influenced by Yes; I can remember the first Yes album I ever heard and that completely blew me away. In fact, one of the first mornings that we went into Morgan Studios, this little guy came out and I recognised him straight away and I just blurted out, “Oh, John Anderson!” And he said, “Oh, good morning mate. What are you here to do?” He was interested in what we were there to do! And I just said, “what are you here to do?” I couldn’t believe I was talking to John Anderson. He said they were starting their album called Topographical Oceans. So, during one of our sessions, Barry was laying down his guitar parts, and I happened to notice Chris Squires (Yes bass player) and Steve Howe (Yes guitarist) were looking in through the

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door. And they looked impressed at what Barry was playing. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing!

it. And it broke my heart, I would’ve loved to have been in Genesis, I would’ve loved it.

Barry and I were also influenced by the jazz musicians of the time, especially Mahavishnu Orchestra who was one of the first jazz fusion bands.

Barry and I also got an offer from Glen Hughes (Deep Purple). We were at a Sabbath gig and he came up to me and asked what Barry and I were doing. He was with Trapeze, his band at the time, and told us he was putting together a band and he’d been watching us and wondered if we would like to join. That’s another one that would’ve been a golden opportunity, because he’s one of the greats.

You were rubbing shoulders with the likes of Tony Iommi, Ozzy Osbourne John Bonham, who were huge names from that era. Did it ever irk you that Necromandus was on the rise, only to have it fall apart before the release of your debut album? We were gutted. I think I went into a depression after that. What happened was that Tony Iommi had to go back to America for their tour, because he’d been recording us on his time off, Barry [then] got disheartened and didn’t think it was going to happen, so ended up throwing the towel in. We were due to go to America on the Sabbath tour but I didn’t know that Barry was frightened of flying. Whenever it came up about getting passports and flying to the States, he would get really nervous. I didn’t know that until years after; he admitted it to me just before he died. He said, “I’m so, so sorry. I was scared of flying.” Is there anything you wish you’d have done, that you didn’t? I got a call that Phil Collins was looking for a drummer so he could step down and sing. Well, my name had been put forward by his drum tech and I was just tied. I was trying to put this band together with Ozzy Osbourne (Blizzard of Ozz) and I didn’t know which way to go. I felt a loyalty towards Ozzy and I just said that I was so sorry, I couldn’t do

Going through these ups and downs, did you take away any lessons or good pieces of advice? Yeah, always try different options! And loyalty is sometimes not the best thing. Now this record is released, what will happen to Necromandus? We’ve already started a second album! I’ve got a great guitarist on that one, a guy called David Colquhoun who is Rick Wakeman’s guitarist. We’re also hoping to get Rick Wakeman himself playing on a track because of an old conversation we once had: In 1972 I had walked in on Rick while he was listening to a recording from the album he was making at the time called The Six Wives of Henry VIII. We got chatting, and me being really cheeky, asked how much he would charge to play on one of our tracks. Here’s me thinking he’d be charging megabucks and he asks if I could go as far as a pint of Guinness! Of course, that didn’t happen back then, but David has reminded Rick about it, so let’s hope!

The original Necromandus lineup in the ’70s

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THERE WAS A HOLE THERE POEM BY BIANCA IOVINO

There was a hole there— in my chest. Roughly the size of you. You held my hand and guided it tracing your outline over sternum and breast before ripping it out. A wind blew through it. It wasn’t soft and mild like summer’s dusk. But more forceful and unruly—laced with Southern snow. There was a hole there. Where your tees and boxers took up drawer space, where your car used to park outside the gate, where you slept in my bed. And the wind was there; it burnt my cheek where I got near. There was a hole there. I wonder if it was visible. Did people see it? The forced smiles, a hole like tooth decay— unpleasant and off-putting. Did people see it in my eyes? The windows to my soul once dressed in lace curtains, now vacant and derelict? There was a hole there, in my chest. Roughly the size of you. And nothing seems to fill it.

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ILLUSTRATION Creative

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