USABLE FUDGE - a glampunk story
Chapter Eight: An old VHS tape
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CHAPTER EIGHT: An old VHS tape
Bristol, England
March 12 1977
[Transcript from VHS copy of the only surviving recording of the “Rask’s Surprise Package” TV show, never broadcast]
STUDIO INTERIOR. DAY.
Studio 2 of the South West TV local station, set up for the music show “Rask’s Surprise Package”. A cheesy plastic set in pastel green and yellow with spangly glam letters of gold curlicue script spelling out the show title on a huge orange backboard.
A small stage with drumset and mics. In front of that, on the smooth polished linoleum floor, two weighty TV cameras on castor-roller dollies, with a two-man crew on each.
On stage, RASK BOLDEN, in a pink tank top with “Hot Bitch” printed on the front in spangly gold lettering to match the lettering on the backboard, stands next to a table on which a vase of pink carnations is placed. He paces up and down nervously.
There’s a commotion stage left, and a group of figures enters. It’s the entourage of HEXZEI MONSTRANCE, including his tour manager JEFF LOCKLEY and his bodyguard “BIG JOEY” LASCALLES.
HEXZEI is in large steel-framed glasses and a high-collared blue silk shirt. He has thick crimson lipstick all around his wide froggy mouth. He looks like a vampire accountant.
From stage right, studio show producer BOB NIEMENS crosses the studio floor in front of RASK and shakes the hand of manager JEFF LOCKLEY.
RASK tries to exchange a glance with HEXZEI but the latter is avoiding his gaze, fussing with some item of clothing or other and whispering to bodyguard BIG JOEY.
JEFF: Sorry we’re late, Bob. Terrible traffic on the M4. Multi-car-pile-up just outside Reading. Decided to ditch the car and come by rail after all. Trains are shocking awful these days.
BOB: Never mind, Jeff. You’re all here now, safe and sound. I think you know Rask?
JEFF [waves his hand]: Hiya, Rask. Pleasure.
HEXZEI is ushered toward a large armchair on stage. RASK sits opposite HEXZEI, their steel-frame chairs angled toward the camera. He says something inaudible to HEXZEI while the lighting is set up and HEXZEI offers a tight-lipped grin in return.
BOB: Ready to go? We’re a bit behind schedule and we need to get started.
RASK: My drink first–I asked for a drink.
A STAGEHAND scrambles to prepare a glass of whisky for RASK. Another sets up a little table next to his chair. He accepts the drink and takes a sip. The glass remains in his hand.
BOB: Ready, Hex?
HEXZEI: Oh, hell, why not?
BOB: ACTION!
RASK’s face changes and he beams toward the camera.
RASK: Today is a special day. He’s at #18–excuse me, #11–on the Billboard charts with that thunderous anthem “Thrust to Lust”. I’m joined in the studio now by my longtime collaborator and companion, the undeniable Hexzei Monstrance. [Pause for inserted applause] Hexzei, thanks for coming.
HEXZEI: Anything for a… companion.
RASK: Ha. Uh, how long is it we’ve known each other, mate?
HEXZEI: Long time. Ever since I was a rattail rentboy hustling the mean streets of Manhattan.
BOB gestures behind the camera.
RASK: Well, uh. It’s a kids’ show, mate. Can’t talk about hustling.
HEXZEI: Since I was homeless, then. Think the kids can handle that?
RASK: Ha! Well it’s so great to get the cool cats together at last. Fancy doing a duet later on in the show, Hex?
HEXZEI: How much you gonna pay me, cat?
RASK: You know, for old time-
HEXZEI [Cutting in]: Got someone to hit record this time, bud?
RASK: Yeah, it’ll all be shipshape and professional. You know, kosher.
HEXZEI: Like your sweet Jewboy schlong, Raskie! Been swinging that round much of late?
RASK [makes hand gesture to keep it down, under his breath]: Kiddies, Hex.
HEXZEI: Pardon my rudeness. Let’s talk about the number we’ll do. One of mine, I guess?
RASK: A bit full of yourself, ain’t you?
HEXZEI: Full of myself? No, man, I'm empty of myself. Totally emptied out.
BOB signals that they have a visitor.
RASK: Look who it is! My lady Losie with our boy Nathan. Say hello to Nathan, Hex.
LOSIE steps up onto the set with a young baby. HEXZEI stays in place and takes a slug of his whisky. STAGEHANDS fetch another chair and seat her next to RASK.
RASK: Well ain’t this cozy, eh? How long’s it been?
HEXZEI: Golly, three years at least–oh, no no, that was the other lady. This one’s better than that frigid bitch, gotta hand it to you, baby.
He gestures to the STAGEHANDS for a top-up on his whisky glass. The baby fusses and is quickly calmed by LOSIE, who is keeping her eyes on HEXZEI.
RASK: This your first time meeting my baby, Hex? Progeny of my loins right here.
HEXZEI takes a large sip of his drink. He does not look at the baby.
HEXZEI: Your baby? And here I thought I was your baby, Rasky. Least that’s what the papers used to say about us.
RASK: Ha, well you get a couple of fly fellas together and–
HEXZEI: You know, I always wondered what gave it away. Was it all the orgies? Kissing on stage? They were keen on speculating but the moment I call myself a faggot on live televison–
RASK: Mate–
LOSIE: Boys, let’s not–
HEXZEI: Oh, fuck ‘em all. We don’t owe them nothing, no how no way. They’ve said worse about us than whether or not we’re slipping each other the sausage, ay? How about when the first one went splat? Your first lady…That was a rough month in the papers but we made it out just fine. We’ve been just fine, baby.
RASK motions for a refill. His face is aghast. HEXZEI’s smile never wavers. BOB signals as if to suggest a reset and LOSIE tries to leave the stage with the baby, but RASK holds her arm and insists she stays.
BOB: Rolling again. That’s three… two…
RASK: The music, we love the music, man. Everybody loves the music, let’s talk music, alright?
HEXZEI: Let’s do it, Rask. The music, man! You know I copied all my music from you? Like you copied all your music from Bowie and The Stones, and they copied all their music from The Beatles, and they from Elvis, so on so forth.
RASK: Copycats all the way down ain’t we?
HEXZEI: But cool cats too, right? So what number we gonna do together? Losie honey, you gonna sing with us, or you gotta change the kiddie’s diapers?
LOSIE: I can do both of those things at once, Hexzei. I am woman, hear me roar.
HEXZEI: That’s real sweet, baby. So what’s it gonna be, Raskie? You dragged me down here to your cockamamie kiddies’ show, you gotta have a notion of what song you’d like to do. For old times’ sake?
RASK: I thought we could do one of your latest ones.
HEXZEI: My band’s not here. Only they know how to play them. Suggest something simple. How about an old Elvis classic, huh? Love Me Tender?
RASK pauses to finish his drink. The baby cries.
RASK: Howsabout Devil in Disguise? I know you know that one.
HEXZEI: Ah. I knew my good old boy was in there somewhere. You think you can keep up with me?
RASK: Till I drop dead.
BOB calls cut and lets out a long sigh. The stage across the studio is being set for the performance. LOSIE steps into another room to calm the baby. Standing, HEXZEI presses his smudged lips to RASK’s ear and says something inaudible and they share a big laugh. The energy in the room seems to be jovial once more.
The two men refill their drinks and when LOSIE comes back without the baby, HEXZEI kisses her on the cheek then asks her to help unbutton and remove his shirt. She does so reluctantly.
They move to the other stage where it seems a guitar has been misplaced. STAGEHANDS are rushing to find it, the end of the filming day quickly approaching. RASK stands beneath the big stage light and sways.
The guitar is located and HEXZEI straps it across his bare chest. A third mic is set up for LOSIE.
RASK: I wanna see you in killer mode, Hex.
HEXZEI [puts on a fake English accent]: I’ll kill the lo’ of us. Mate.
The cameras are set and the recording begins.
[The performance that follows was passed from VHS tape to VHS tape all through the 1980s and well into the 1990s, when the copies-of-copies became striated with video artefacts and analog glitch until they looked like avant-garde performance pieces in abstract form and noise. The studio staff that day were running on a strict union timetable and insisted to BOB that the whole thing be wrapped up by 5pm. Just five minutes to go. That left no time for a runthrough.]
RASK blasts straight into the number, shredding the Elvis intro with a raucous power riff.
HEXZEI gyrates his hips, the lean muscles of his torso coiling and uncoiling like angry serpents under the skin. He croons at LOSIE, who shakes her maracas and shimmies.
She looks like an angel (RASK: Looks like an angel)
Walks like an angel (Walks like an angel)
Talks like an angel (Talks like an angel)
But I got wise…
ALL: She’s a devil in disguise, oh yes she is.
HEXZEI [sings over them, snarling]: A bitch slut in disguise! Oh yes she is!
RASK moves up close to HEXZEI, still slamming a screeching solo out of his guitar, and prods him with the guitar neck.
HEXZEI goes down on his knees and motions as if he’s giving head to the guitar.
LOSIE comes out from behind the microphone stand and trips on a cable. She falls into RASK, who tips off the stage, along with his guitar.
HEXZEI yowls and puts his hand over his mouth, blood dripping between the fingers. He looks much more like a vampire accountant than ever before.
BOB: CUT!
Lights go out. The camera crews wander off. The baby, out in the wings, starts howling.
[ The tape stops here. This is the final time the two men ever see one another. .Just shy of six months later, Raskal Bolden is killed in a car accident and the tape transmutes from hard-to-watch trash into timeless treasure. ]
Video Three - “Mockers and Goers” by A.P. Murphy
Music - “Sick of You” by Iggy Pop
The video addition is a great mood-setter. You got me thinking about Bolan's death for the first time, probably, since it happened. The feelings reading all this are heavy, heavy. I feel embarrassed for Rask and angry at him - and pity for his manifest failure to be Bowie, Our Lady of Perpetual Transfiguration.
Nice to see/hear Iggy in this video installment. I've been a fan of his for a long time, but only recently discovered "Sick of You"! Perfect for this chapter about old friends.