Part Three

PLANET-HOPPING PRIMATES
I've not been informed of the intimate details, but I do know that in the pre-millennial winter of 1999 Dawn Of The Replicants parted company with Bugs Bunny and set off on their own ten feet.

For a brief spell in 2000AD, Simian and Vickers traded in their Ibanez guitars and Marshall amps for cheap Yamaha samplers, second-hand theremins and dodgy machines with numbers in their names.

"I know!" one of them said, one day. "Let's call ourselves Pluto Monkey!"

The other shrugged his indifference and mumbled, "Fair enough."

The resulting noise was a freaky elaboration on the electronic soundscapes established on such Replicants fodder as 'Skullcrusher', 'Let Them Eat Coal', 'Leaving So Soon?' and 'Sub Erotic Fields'.

So, this pair of planet-hopping primates hooked up with Oxford based cult indie label, Shifty Disco in 2000 to release the spooky and interesting Pluto Monkey album, 'Little Brenda: Bluegrass Mission', along with two singles, 'Joe Meek' (an exploration of the life of the troubled '60s producer), and 'Jet Stream' (which could have sat snugly on any DOTR album).

POTATO WORLD
(Stuff 'zine, issue 1)

STUFF: Are all the stories I've been hearing of dodgy underpants true? Tell me about your topdrawer terrors.

PAUL VICKERS: Maroon boxers with an inscription on the waistband which reads, "You, Me, Right Here, Right Now!" My Auntie Pat gave me them.

ROGER SIMIAN: I used to have a pair of what I termed 'Pacers', after the chewy mints, because of their pale green stripes and '70s nostalgia vibe.

STUFF: What would your perfect world be?

ROGER SIMIAN: Potato World.

PAUL VICKERS: At the moment my perfect world would be sitting smoking a fag. I've now given up smoking for four days.

STUFF: What's your favourite word?

ROGER SIMIAN: Tumsh.

PAUL VICKERS: Regal Kingsize.

TOUCH THE PROPELLER!
So, 2002. Dawn Of The Replicants are back on a new label (Flying Sparks), with another splendid collection of songs. This time round the music has been stripped-back to the bone, allowing us to more easily appreciate the well-crafted tunes (filled to the brim with fire, intelligence and passion) and Paul's wordplay, which goes straight for the brainstem with pointy teeth and a cheeky grin. (The band can now officially wear their art-rock tag with pride, as Vickers is currently studying photography at Edinburgh College Of Art.)

This time round, the Sonic Youth chord book has been thrown out the window, and we're treated to a set that tips its tophat to such diverse 20th Century sources as the morbid country twanging of Johnny Cash, the inventive spag-western film scores of Ennio Morricone, the insane dub of Lee 'Scratch' Perry & King Tubby, the fierce trashcan anthems of New York's Velvet Underground, the easy-listening loungecore of Burt Bacharach, the late '60s grooves of Bob Dylan's grimy electric era and even the dark sensual freak-outs of The Doors & Carlos Santana. Strangely, the band have somehow used such starting off points to produce forward-looking music which draws lustful vigour from the past, rather than wallowing in crumbly trad-core nostalgialism. (Is that even a word?)

The original five-piece band seemed to pretty much fracture after DOTR left eastwest. Mike Small went off to pursue his interest in classical composition (spurred on by the orchestral arrangements he did for the second album, 'Wrong Town, Wrong Planet, Three Hours Late') and after a brief spurt of creative energy (culminating in a stunning acoustic show at the Notting Hill Art Centre, early 2000), the other four were scattered to the wind, fluttering off in different directions. (Grant and Donald kept themselves busy building houses, raising mini-replicants and writing deep-fried Stargazie Pie songs, while Paul and Roger were off doing their P-Monkey thing.)

But, like Dr Who, The Replicants are able to regenerate themselves. For the time-being the Mk 3 version of the group seems to be operating more like a Wu Tang style collective than a rigid band, members drifting in and out of focus dependent on their availability.

Grant Pringle, Mike Small and Donald Kyle popped in regularly throughout the new sessions, bringing wonderful bursts of rhythm, colour, intensity and light to the canvas. Listen, for example, to Donald's inventive basslines on 'Hollywood Hills' and 'No Room At The Inn' (reminiscent of The Stranglers's JJ Burnell); Mike's sweet Bacharach-like clarinet & sax arrangements on 'Falling Down'; or Grant's cool harmonising in 'No Room...', melodic 12-string parts on 'Hollywood Hills' and spectacular drum-up-manship on 'Sweet Little Nowhere Blue' and 'Black & White Rainbows'.

But, these new recordings also introduce a puff of perfume, the smear of a lipstick. Yes, a woman's touch has been provided this time by the newly-introduced batch of Ladytronic Replicants: most noticeably, Susi O' Neill (aka Miss Hypnotique), a young diva from Robin Hood country who has travelled the world clutching her music degree and a leopard-skin handbag. She originally met Vickers and Simian in the winter of 2000, during a Pluto Monkey set in Manchester. They were "wrapped in tinsel and singing songs about apes", whilst she was teasing the theremin and hammering the holy shit out of her synth for Peel's favourite "prog-rock on crack" maniacs, Nought.

Susi (Miss Hypnotique) is currently pursuing a career as London's leading theremin-meister, offering high-fillootin' concerts and trashy late-night TV appearances, as she crafts mysterious sounds from the ether. As well as stage appearances with pot-head pixies of yore, Gong, she has toured Europe several times with London-based cinema-noir band, Heist, and is currently working on an album of jazz standards with her fearless piano-playing assistant.

You can hear her contribution on the songs 'Smoke Without Fire', 'Black And White Rainbows' and 'Sweet Little Nowhere Blue' where she provides spooky theremin, New Orleans-tinged clarinet, swirling hammond, Hawaiian harmonies, stardust synth and PJ Harvey-esque throaty whispers.

And, so, in September 2002, Dawn Of The Replicants released their first material in three years - the double a-side single 'Leaving Town' / 'Smoke Without Fire' (backed by the original fuzzadelic '96 recording of 'Cocaine On The Catwalk'), closely followed by the album, 'Touching The Propeller'. Both of these feature excellent artwork by the artist, Mary Trodden (currently exhibiting in New York).

And, now, a fantastic new live line-up of Dawn Of The Replicants has been released into the world, featuring Paul Vickers (vocals), Roger Simian (guitar), Mike Small (guitar), David Coyle aka "The Coil" (bass), Dave Little aka "El Dotto" (drums) and Susi O' Neill aka "Miss Hypnotique" (theremin, clarinet, keyboards). They have already played a few low-key gigs and recorded radio sessions (for John Peel, Bruce Dickinson, Sean Hughes, XFM & Radio Scotland, among others), and promise to visit selected cities throughout the UK later in the year.

But now, my pretties, I must bid you adieu.

Alice, (Fried Green Tomorrows 'zine), Scotland, September 2003
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Part One and Two