Sunday, 8 January 2012

The legendary Cecil Ingram Bastardo joins The Fulminators on "High Fashion Queen"


Cecil Ingram Bastardo's kind offer to record with The Fulminators (see the comments on this recent post) was too good to pass up. I phone him right away and we set a date. I then tried to contact Phil Spector, hoping he'd mosey on over to act as producer in an "Instant Karma" kind of capacity, but I couldn't track the frizzy-haired little SOB down, so I guess he's busy polishing his guns... or something.

Anyhow, the very next day, Cecil turned up at my ranch in his Corvette with his lovely partner, Raylene. We exchanged gifts, and opened the packages right there and then - and I don't remember anything after that until waking up yesterday morning to find an empty bottle of Jose Cuervo wedged in a damned uncomfortable place and the above song playing at full blast throughout the house.

Must have been a hell of a session!

Many thanks to Cecil for his lovely harmony singing and sensational guitar work. Boy sure can play. And thanks to Raylene for whatever the hell she contributed (found her underthings in the pocket of my jeans - I'll mail 'em). When the rest of the Bastardos get out of jail (that robbery was taken out of context, I reckon) and the other Fulminators finish their course of treatment at The Priory (remember boys - one day a time) we should hold a full band meetin' (no weapons) and see what we come up with.

Now I have to go book my trip to Joshua Tree - I definitely feel in need of some serious R&R.

Thanks, Cecil. 'Preciate it.


  1. It ain't much fun in remission, I can tell y'all. Howeversome, reading your blog and listening to the Fulminators makes the next 24hours pass by as swift as a Kentucky whippet chasin' a chicken bone. Adding to that, reading them lines of Benny Zepheniah Zodawater dun made ma heart soar like an eagle.

    Thanks Scotty. If I wasn't from Nashville in the US of A, I'd figure on bein' Norwegian, meanwhiles.

  2. Thanks, Gram - 'preciate it. You dun made me as happy as a Kentucky wippet with three dicks. You sure your mama and pappy didn't hail from Minnesota? Place is lousy with Norskies, so they tell me. My heart goes out to you in your hour of sufferin'. I've dun given up mah two breakfast packs a Krispy Kreme donuts as a sign of solidarity.

    Say howdy to all them other Bastardos, y'hear?