Everyone loves an outsider.
Someone who endured decades of obscurity and living just above the breadline to find that their stature has ascended in recent years thanks to fans now working in the media. Of course, this wouldn’t be possible without a back catalogue filled with gems and a story filled with bad luck and perseverance.
Such an outline fits Billy Childish to a tee.
Having recorded (roughly) 150 albums of garage rock, punk, calypso and spoken word as well as authoring (roughly) 100 books of poetry and novels and countless works of art, Childish is a prime example of what Malcolm Gadwell talks about in his book Outliers. His theory is that anyone who practices and hones their skills for at least 10,000 hours (which is 20 hrs a week for 10 years) become acknowledged experts in their field and uses The Beatles as a textbook case: playing 1200 shows in Hamburg between 1960-64 before becoming the most iconic and influential group in popular music.
Similarly, with Childish, his paintings now command prices between £500 and £50,000 while his influence on the likes of Mudhoney, The White Stripes, The Oh Sees and a slew of garage rockers is certainly not to be sneered at. He was also namechecked in former girlfriend Tracey Emin’s ‘Everyone I Have Ever Slept With 1963–1995’ artwork, regarded as one of the pioneering pieces from the Young British Artists.
Not bad for someone who turned down the following opportunities:
👿Celebrity Big Brother
👿 reading with Allen Ginsburg
👿 supporting The Sonics.
Former Q editor (and longtime fan) Ted Kessler was given the task by Billy on the grounds that he would probably never read it. With this freedom in mind, he has constructed a bio that doesn’t just tell a narrative but acts as an insight into Billy’s fertile mind as Kessler includes lyrics, poems and emails from the man himself discussing what to include and not include. Interviews from former bandmates, lovers and collaborators flesh out an image of a highly driven, highly austere artist who bears the scars of sexual abuse and an abusive father with a cutting sense of humour and stark honesty.
I must admit to having a good chuckle at the revelation from Sanchia Lewis (the mother of his son) that Billy used to send copies of his books to Page 3 models as well as the discussion about how one particular tour with Thee Headcoatees (a female equivalent to Thee Headcoats) ended in Fleetwood Mac style acrimony. Such moments lovingly puncture the carefully constructed image and add to the complication that is Billy Childish. Similarly, his frenemyship with Tracey Emin is discussed at length, and one can’t help but wonder how two people who were diametrically separate from each other could have such an impact on each other’s lives. One or two reviewers have commented that Billy can’t help but come across as a touch jealous of her success and, with comments like this, it’s hard not to come to that conclusion:
What is interesting is the divide between old friends like Graham Day and Micky Hampshire (who remember a time when Billy was still on the dole and had to make extra money by drawing sketches in the street) and the more recent converts. Day certainly notes that Billy has now adopted a persona and speaks to him as if he is being interviewed, thus creating a gap between them despite him always being up for a jam with the man himself. But then, Day always had a well-paid job as a firefighter and was able to retire early whereas Billy has lived in a world of uncertainty for years and is now reaping the rewards for staying the course so it’s not a big surprise that it would go to his head.
Notably, there are one or two moments of mythmaking going on which Kessler doesn’t correct. The main one (repeated a few times) is that John Peel did not play Billy’s records. While it may be true that Peel didn’t give a lot of airtime to them the way he did with other acts, recordings show that he did give a fair bit of airtime throughout the 80’s and 90’s to Thee Headcoats and Thee Milkshakes. I suspect this has come about because of Peel’s unassailable position as an arbitrator of underground music and that he didn’t seem to fully embrace Childish the way he embraced David Gedge is probably a sore point for many.
One slight bone of contention is that Kessler doesn’t pay much attention to the music of the MBE’s despite them producing my favourite album of his (‘Thatcher's Children’, complete with artwork from Jamie Reid). Of course, with the vastness of Billy’s discography such omissions are inevitable and to complain about them is probably churlish in the grand scheme of things.
As a celebration of nearly 50 years of independence, To Ease My Troubled Mind does a sterling job of celebrating the work of Billy Childish, examining the milieu that he found himself in at the start of his career and lauding him for finding a variety of outlets for his artistic impulses.
Inspiring, insightful and intriguing.
Ted Kessler, 2024, To Ease My Troubled Mind: The Authorised Unauthorised History of Billy Childish. White Rabbit Books. ISBN-13: 978-1399615532
Someone who endured decades of obscurity and living just above the breadline to find that their stature has ascended in recent years thanks to fans now working in the media. Of course, this wouldn’t be possible without a back catalogue filled with gems and a story filled with bad luck and perseverance.
Such an outline fits Billy Childish to a tee.
Having recorded (roughly) 150 albums of garage rock, punk, calypso and spoken word as well as authoring (roughly) 100 books of poetry and novels and countless works of art, Childish is a prime example of what Malcolm Gadwell talks about in his book Outliers. His theory is that anyone who practices and hones their skills for at least 10,000 hours (which is 20 hrs a week for 10 years) become acknowledged experts in their field and uses The Beatles as a textbook case: playing 1200 shows in Hamburg between 1960-64 before becoming the most iconic and influential group in popular music.
Similarly, with Childish, his paintings now command prices between £500 and £50,000 while his influence on the likes of Mudhoney, The White Stripes, The Oh Sees and a slew of garage rockers is certainly not to be sneered at. He was also namechecked in former girlfriend Tracey Emin’s ‘Everyone I Have Ever Slept With 1963–1995’ artwork, regarded as one of the pioneering pieces from the Young British Artists.
Not bad for someone who turned down the following opportunities:
👿Celebrity Big Brother
👿 reading with Allen Ginsburg
👿 supporting The Sonics.
Former Q editor (and longtime fan) Ted Kessler was given the task by Billy on the grounds that he would probably never read it. With this freedom in mind, he has constructed a bio that doesn’t just tell a narrative but acts as an insight into Billy’s fertile mind as Kessler includes lyrics, poems and emails from the man himself discussing what to include and not include. Interviews from former bandmates, lovers and collaborators flesh out an image of a highly driven, highly austere artist who bears the scars of sexual abuse and an abusive father with a cutting sense of humour and stark honesty.
I must admit to having a good chuckle at the revelation from Sanchia Lewis (the mother of his son) that Billy used to send copies of his books to Page 3 models as well as the discussion about how one particular tour with Thee Headcoatees (a female equivalent to Thee Headcoats) ended in Fleetwood Mac style acrimony. Such moments lovingly puncture the carefully constructed image and add to the complication that is Billy Childish. Similarly, his frenemyship with Tracey Emin is discussed at length, and one can’t help but wonder how two people who were diametrically separate from each other could have such an impact on each other’s lives. One or two reviewers have commented that Billy can’t help but come across as a touch jealous of her success and, with comments like this, it’s hard not to come to that conclusion:
She used to write to me every day. She was 100% obsessed with me. I found her very attractive and I was also very attracted to the fact that she was so obsessed with me. But she was one of the most clinging, difficult people. I know how harsh that sounds, but I’m just telling you the truth… Since we’ve been in contact again, I keep her at arm’s length. I love Tracey and care about her but she’s full of nonsense, and I’m not interested in her obsession with herself or how clever she thinks she is.
Notably, there are one or two moments of mythmaking going on which Kessler doesn’t correct. The main one (repeated a few times) is that John Peel did not play Billy’s records. While it may be true that Peel didn’t give a lot of airtime to them the way he did with other acts, recordings show that he did give a fair bit of airtime throughout the 80’s and 90’s to Thee Headcoats and Thee Milkshakes. I suspect this has come about because of Peel’s unassailable position as an arbitrator of underground music and that he didn’t seem to fully embrace Childish the way he embraced David Gedge is probably a sore point for many.
One slight bone of contention is that Kessler doesn’t pay much attention to the music of the MBE’s despite them producing my favourite album of his (‘Thatcher's Children’, complete with artwork from Jamie Reid). Of course, with the vastness of Billy’s discography such omissions are inevitable and to complain about them is probably churlish in the grand scheme of things.
As a celebration of nearly 50 years of independence, To Ease My Troubled Mind does a sterling job of celebrating the work of Billy Childish, examining the milieu that he found himself in at the start of his career and lauding him for finding a variety of outlets for his artistic impulses.
Inspiring, insightful and intriguing.
Ted Kessler, 2024, To Ease My Troubled Mind: The Authorised Unauthorised History of Billy Childish. White Rabbit Books. ISBN-13: 978-1399615532
⏩ Christopher Owens was a reviewer for Metal Ireland and finds time to study the history and inherent contradictions of Ireland. He is currently the TPQ Friday columnist.
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