MIKE •• PAST/CURRENT ACTIVITY

Following the folding of Toy Love, and in perversely paradox style, Michael Dooley scorned the scene of the slaughter and returned to Sydney. Dooley Michael says this was not out of affection for the place but because he had nothing else to do and happened to have a return ticket. Furthermore, remaining in the shadow of Toy Love in the long white shroud appealed less than anonymity in OZ. Disembarked, a series of dull jobs enabled Dooley to save and pay off the drum kit, since stolen, while on tour in NZ. The remaining earnings financed a different sort of pub tour to that previously undertaken - less well planned and less meticulous.

At an auspicious moment in the resultant continuum, while leaning at a bar, Mike found himself shoulder to shoulder with Paul Cupples, he who had formerly been lead singer, bass player and predominant songwriter of The Sheiks. The Sheiks had supported Toy Love at several inner-city Sydney gigs. Paul, formerly a Kiwi and formally a folkie had a talent for sherry drinking equal to his knack for writing catchy songs. Amidst the ensuing colloquy emerged a cunning plan. The following is an exact replication of the momentous dialogue that occurred between the two expats:
Dooleymike: Hey, Paul Cupples!

Mr Cupples: Who are you?

Dooley diminished: Is that a philosophical question or are you a bastard?

Paulus C: That sounds rhetorical to me.

Mikley Dooe: Yeah - eat your words!

PC: Better still, have a beer!

Doom Like Ye: Thanks! Hey, let's start a band?
[Author's note: A long pause in the discussion ensued wherein the reader is humbly requested to imagine sounds typical to the knocking back of a few pints of beer ie, slurping, glugging, belching, sighs of satisfaction, the occasional curse and once in a while the shattering of glass on a tile floor]
Cupppaullse: What was that you said way back when?

Do Like Moye: Nothing - I was just remarking on the fragility of the drinking vessels they serve ale in about here but didn't realise I said that aloud.

Cuuples Pal: Hmmm...maybe starting a band would be a grand notion. Your round by the wayside.

Moikey Dole: OK...[A brief interlude occurred in the interview while a call is made to the bartender for another round]...and a band it shall be, however, I hazard to suggest that you do not conjoin the two 'u's together like that, in your name. It might chance to be a source of confusion should you be in a situation where you're required to spell.

Selppuc Luap: Fair call. How about a round off the top shelf - this beer stuff's full of gas?!

¡Gracias amigo! - this last exclamation issuing from McPaddy Doyloe.
And thus, a legend was still-born and still was. It later transpired that neither party to the manifesto was in ownership of the musical instruments that erstwhile made at least one of them unbeknownst to the other. The solution agreed on was that both would play guitar and that suitably gullible persons, as yet unidentified, would be recruited to fill the rhythm section duties. The other criteria for membership included the ownership of bass and/or drums.
Jerry Kortegast (another exiled NZer) and Peter Hatwell (a Melbournite aka "Animal", after his former bike gang, which in turn was named after the 60s British band) were duly recruited (on bass and drums disrespectfully).
All four conspirators being in possession of an acute thirst, it was agreed to christen the creature The Dri Horrors. Toasts were forthcoming.
The Dri Horrors meandered through several months of late night gigs, in bars featuring blank faces attached to nodding skulls, sticky carpets and etymological fossils (viz, cockroaches caught in suspended animation in the morass of gaffa tape left on walls and ceilings by roadies and lighting crews). The ensemble was described by the Sydney press as encapsulating "inner-city decadence" and has also been recalled as "a boring pub band". A series of misadventures, interspersed with disasters, ensued and eventually "took its toll".
The first sign of withdrawal from reason was the decision by Kortegast and Hatwell to sack Cupples, front-man, founding member, predominant song-writer, singer and bass guitar teacher to Kortegast. Paul was replaced by Jonathan Jamrag and Sid Row (both previously members of NZ's Proud Scum) on vocals and guitar. This line-up played for several weeks until, prompted by "who-knows-what" (misguided ambition perhaps), the hatchet man psyche re-appeared and the rhythm section decided to sack Jamrag. The immanent replacement process was stalled by the death of Hatwell.
The Dri Horrors made some live recordings at French's Wine Bar and a 7-inch EP, The Day The World Ended, With a Cast of Millions was released on Horrible Records. The title refers to the alleged end of the world that was to occur on the night the recording was made, alleged to ensue from an expected lining up of the planets. Anyone previously oblivious of that momentous event may now lay to rest their metaphysical suspicions. Serial epiphenomenalism eat all.
The horribly dry quartet also recorded a studio album, which was never released, featuring more than a couple of Cupples' songs. Animal was soon followed to the city of ghosts by a number of friends and acquaintances of Michael Patrick Dooley. This piecemeal depopulation of the known world was more effective than celestial powers in tempting the tired tippler to re-evaluate his domicile. Shortly, MPD left OZ for NZ.
For the next few years, the former guitarist, previously known as a former drummer mostly shunned the music "scene". Some brief forays into Rock n' Roll only serving to confirm his disenchantment, however, the sleep was broken by a call from Peter Gutteridge. PG invited the self-exiled noise manipulator to assist in fulfilling Snapper's Orientation Tour obligations. Original Snapper drummer, Alan Haig, had unseemingly jumped ship. The Snapper line-up for the tour featured Gutteridge, Christine Voice, David Kilgour and your's truly, Ekim Yelood. The band later released the 7" Vader/Gentle Hour single (engineered by Stephen Kilroy at Fish St and released on the Flying Nun label).
Snapper has its own tale to be told elsewhere, however, for the purpose of this piece...
Several tours later, and after shedding several limbs, Snapper became a two-piece band and recorded ADM. This album (featuring Peter G on vocals, guitar and keyboards, and with Aye Moloch Lied positioned on drumstool) was captured by Brendan Hoffman at his Volt studios in Dunedin. Although The Gutman has continued to be prolific in his song writing, to date no more Snapper albums have eventuated. Nag him if you see him.
Interspersed between various incarnations of Snapper, Mikeo Yodel, volunteered his input to a variety of projects of varying musical bent. These included Alien Susan, a band that delivered dozens of gigs about Dunedin, some of which featured in-tune guitars. The other band members were Brendan White, Tim Weston and Wendy. After several months, Alien Susan fizzled, died and dispersed its members to disparate places. White went west, Weston went who knows where and Wendy was want to become a microbiologist.
The most notable of Mícheál Ó Dubhlaoich's recent aural adventures would be The Snares, featuring the Snapperdrummer on snaresdrums, Maxine Funke and Brett Moody (both handling guitar and vocals). The Snares began as The Beaters prior to Moody joining tour-de-forces. This trio released two CDs of original songs of a funkemoody leaning - Something Happened On The Way To Heaven (on Horrible Records) and the longer Dance The Dervish. When Brett left to seek his fortune in foreign parts (commonly referred to as "The North Island"), The Snares effectively ceased. The remaining snaresbasher and stringsthrasher played on briefly as a duo, until joined by Alastair Galbraith, at which point The $100 Band coalesced.
Copies of a lathe cut 10" vinyl recording of The $100 Band are about but these are rare. The record features The $100 Band on one side and Spit (Ryan Cockburn) on the other.
"At the very moment" that the drumming fingers of the author were tapping out this motley selection of poorly conceived waffle and ill-considered reminiscences, plans were afoot to release The $100 Band on CD. Mr Galbraith is negotiating the release with US label Emperor Jones. The CD is rumoured to be that label's swansong. The CD is currently being mastered in Texas and will feature live recordings from gigs in Dunedin and Wanganui.
Ole Mad Chile Yo also threatens to complete a solo project but rest easy - he's apparently in no great hurry to do so. The recordings are expected to greet the world via the Horrible Records catalogue.
Reminiscing, A Code Hell I'm Yo cites his having had the opportunity to negotiate noise with a series of gifted songwriters as a familiar feature of his musical meandering. Glimpses of hell notwithstanding, good times were had by many.