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CLAM: Clam. Bam. Thankyou. Hwuh. These four words begin and end every Clam concert, every practise, every collective Clam carajillo and drinking expedition. Particularly Clam Rock. Clam is still a baby, but has already split into:

 

Clam (1): Acoustic, utterly passionate. The original fruity Clam taste, from Piaf to Propellerheads with originals about fish, cheese, bananas, The Dude and dogs.

Clam Rock: Need we say more? Do you think Bruce rocks? Jo doesn't. Snot Battered

Snot Batttered Clam: Vicious takeover of a fading soul band, this revivified and invigoarated goat is rounded out by the enormous Nigel, the aggressive Andy, dressage Danilo, frank Frank, jiving Julian and Csippet the Dog. An angry brass section led by the truly fucked off Rachel deliver hot pumping funk action.

 


 

JO: she's absolutely fuckin fantastic, she sings in French, she talks to bottles (she believes that they send out valuable positive attitude), she has correct posture, headbands to match every mood, and she plays, guitar, piano, accordion, djembe, harmonica, bass, clam, tambourine, egg, the fool.

She was born in Yorkshire, but has an identity crisis having graced France with her presence for seven of the best years of anyone's possible life. She is an artiste, a chanteuse, has sink problems and a beautiful flat decorated in discarded furniture.

NICK: The man with the finest jumper collection known to mankind and a manicure to match is a star. What can't he do? Bastard! Want flamenco, jazz, rock, cheese, pork? Talk to the long-haired Aussie in the dress.

Hailing from Geelong (white wings over blue water near Melbourne, in case you're wondering), he's jammed with the best of them down under and up over, and across a bit in Budapest. Best known for his death-defying guitar skills, he has more than a slight penchant for a bit of stick work and fiddling. Need we say it again, the man is a star. And a tit.

RACHEL: She is an ocean of rock. She washes up with ungodly hangovers, and tunes a piano like she scrambles eggs. She is Clarence Clemens with more hair, and has an unholy fascination with the Boss, Queen and Grieg.

Every third day is a bad hair day, every second class is slept through and she doesn't have enough clean clothes. She still manages to show off in cardigans and dangerous boots. She has a black belt in karate, loves children, soft toys and beer. She is the most dangerous member of Clam.