DEVIL'S ISLAND featuring Gama Bomb
Welcome to this weeks edition of Devil's Island! Every week we maroon a band or artist on the island and see what they get up to, how they cope with being all alone on a small island in the middle of the ocean. It's not your average desert island and we'll see just how each person copes with the extreme conditions.
This week when we arrived at Devil's Island we found Joe, Philly and Domo of Irish thrashers Gama Bomb sat on the beach. The island is far from their home, but how did they end up on here and how did they cope with life on Devil's Island?
Find out now...
Welcome to The Razors'e Edge and our somewhat lovely, warm desert island. Don't worry about it's name I'm sure it's not as bad as that would suggest.
So you're marooned here on this island, but before you ended up shipwrecked you chose one album that you couldn't live without. Which album did you each chose and why?
JOE: I’m going to assume we can magically reach into the album cover and eat the content, so I would go for Let it Bleed by The Stones as it has a picture of a cake on it. Or any German drinking songs LP as it will undoubtedly have pictures of some delicious German beers on the cover.
PHILLY: In my trembling, sodden hands I’d be holding a copy of Deja Vu by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. If I’m going to spend the rest of my life eating from, drinking from and having sex with coconuts, I want a chill soundtrack. It’s a great album and has a lot of good memories for me of times with my friends and my missus, so that might help keep me sane while I become king of the crab people.
DOMO: So how long are we supposed to be on this island? Is it forever? If it’s forever, I would assume we would eventually need to put on plays to keep ourselves entertained. If that’s the case, then clearly a film soundtrack would serve a valuable double function. So the Godfather probably.
Just behind that palm tree is a shack for each of you to stay in, with enough space for you to put up a poster on the wall of one album cover. What album cover do you each chose?
JOE: I collect posters from Dawn of the Dead (1978), so I would probably bring my US one-sheet with green logo, but since it has to be an album, I guess it’s going to be the original Goblin soundtrack for Dawn of the Dead (1978).
PHILLY: I’d put up either For Your Pleasure by Roxy Music - because it has a racy lady to maintain my essential virility, and reminds me of having flashy nights out in the big city before I chose to go on tour on a leaking Vietnamese fishing boat in international waters - or I’d go for Sgt. Pepper’s because it has lots to look at. I could make a game of memorising each of the characters in order to remain intellectually sharp, and then when I eventually do go mad, I can do their voices and simulate arguments. Shut up Mae West! I’m Ringo! My skeleton will one day be found in that hut, chewed Paul McCartney sticking out of its mouth.
DOMO: My favourite poster when I was a kid was this massive one I had of Bob Marley playing the guitar. Unfortunately, it’s not an album cover so I’d go for Babylon By Bus, it’s very good.
There's also a bar on this here island. But alas each of you only get to chose one drink for the entirety of your stay. What's your tipple of choice?
JOE: I'm really loving the small cans of Heineken these days, they're the only Heineken you can buy that is still brewed in the Netherlands. Plus, I would imagine that they will wash down all that Philly flesh that I will have eaten raw on the beach.
PHILLY: Well, it’s a desert island so we’re talking serious temperatures - the classy choice is chilled white wine to enjoy in the shade. However, given my lack of hunting / gathering skills I’m more likely to need something with more volume and nutritional value. Lovely cold pints of Guinness are probably the best call. They remind me of home, fill your belly, aren’t too gassy, and they get you completely lamped. Wait a minute, I’ve just read Joe’s answer and realised he’s planning to eat me. Little does he know I’m going to stave his head in with a sea urchin. We’ll see who chokes down whose fingernails!
JOE: I WILL EAT YOUR FEET!
PHILLY: Sexy, sexy old Joe.
DOMO: If I can only drink one drink then it would have to be Guinness. There’s really no two ways about it. No point in only being able to drink strong drink and the fizz of the beer would get to you after a few weeks. Stick with the Guinness. A pint of plain is your only man.
Your suitcases were lost when your ship sank, but you each managed to salvage one item of band merch. Whats the merch and for what band?
JOE: I would ideally bring my Agent Steel 1987 shirt since it has a boat AND portal on it, but I think it might have got flushed down the toilet in a freak bathroom accident.
PHILLY: I’d bring my Megadeth Catamaran and satellite phone! If only. In reality I’d bring my beloved Springsteen Born to Run tee which I’ve been wearing for over a decade. It’s comfy and has long sleeves to help keep the searing, midday sun off my girlish, noodle-thin arms. Arms like a Georgian princess, I have.
DOMO: My mate Sharam gave me a really class, old Judge Death Anthrax t-shirt that I unfortunately lost at a gig we played at The Corporation in Sheffield a couple of years ago due to an advanced case of inebriation. I would love that one back. Not only was Judge Dredd Megazine my favourite comic as a teenager but it fit me unusually well.
You’re sat on the island thinking “I’m stuck here on this island with my bandmates for eternity”… who would you rather have been shipwrecked with?
JOE: I suppose the no fun answer is our family and loved ones, but since I’ve been watching lots of it recently I’m going to choose the cast of Star Trek: Next Generation, all the bases covered and a huge boost to the chances of getting off the island without having eaten Domos back.
PHILLY: Having toured and played together for 18 years, we all feel like we’ve already been marooned on a desert island for years anyway. I have two little children, so I’d ideally like to be with them and my wife - though realistically they’d end up perishing on the island due to my inability to hunt boar, create fire, stave off dengue fever, scurvy or swordfish attacks. So maybe best I just stay there with the lads. I mean if somebody wants to drop off Marion Cotillard, that’s fine. International waters, baby!
DOMO: Well, obviously my family but failing that the Ratpack would be a good shout. Plenty of drinking to keep your mind off the scurvy, a few lads singing a few songs. Being mates with Dean Martin. Great stories about terrifying mafia men. Also don’t forget that Humphrey Bogart was an original member of the Ratpack, so he’d be there too. I believe he was mad for the chess, which is very handy on a desert island. Yeah, the Ratpack, easy.
There's a walkman in your pocket, on the tape inside is the recording of the one live show that stands out for you. It could be any show, from any band, anywhere in the world. What show is on that walkman?
JOE: I’m gonna go for Jessica Rabbitt at the Ink and Paint Club because she sounds sexy, and I'd probably get very lonely.
PHILLY: This year I’ve been obsessing over Sam Cooke Live At The Harlem Square Club. I just discovered it during lockdown and it’s one of the greatest live albums ever made. It’s got Sam at the height of his powers, playing a very raw, heavy set to a black audience, which was his real comfort zone. It’s fun and uplifting and fills you with good soul vibes. I can picture myself eating an uncooked monkey face to that, alright. Down in one.
DOMO: It would have to be some Yoko Ono type music to help your descent into madness. I’m assuming cannibalism is going to become an issue at some point so you’ll need a suitable soundtrack while you’re trying to guess how much your friend’s leg weighs and so on. You don’t want to be the last one on the train.
You're getting desperate, you decide the only course of action is to put a message in a bottle and hope someone finds it. Your message could be to any member of any band, but should be the most suitable for a rescue attempt. Who is it?
JOE: We once did some gigs with an English band who were all tree surgeons or something, I think they might be adept at launching some sort of rescue attempt. I for the life of me cannot remember the name of their band or their names though.
PHILLY: I heard somebody answer this question by saying Bruce Dickinson, which is very clever, so maybe him. Otherwise I’d make sure it gets to somebody I know and trust - let’s say, Bobby Blitz from Overkill. He’d probably have no problem calling the coastguard / navy and telling them these here micks what he knows done fucked up and got themselves stranded on a sand bar a-hee hee heeeee. It’s not like he himself needs to get in a gyrocopter and come get us, so Bobby would probably sort it out. That or my cousin Gareth O’Neill. He’s in a band and is my cousin, so y’know, he’d probably tell my Ma. Don’t let me down, G-Man.
DOMO: I would have to go with Arnold Schoenberg. His music bridged the gap between the Romantic era and Modernism and really broke down the barriers between tonality and atonality. Naturally these bridge building and barrier breaking skills would translate into ACTUAL bridge building and barrier breaking skills, which would come in very handy ie building a bridge to the desert island and being able to clear branches and other island debris out of our way.
You've been stuck here for a while and food supplies are running low. There's only one thing for it... which fellow band member gets sacrificed to help the others survive?
PHILLY:
Just the thought of that is
Off-putting and
Exceptionally bad
JOE: Every desert island/marooned/Tom Hanks type survivor had either a massively stubbly face or a thick beard. Now, three out of the four members of Gama Bomb are capable of growing such beards/stubble, and one has a stupid gap where his sideburns should be. That man will be eaten and his colourful trousers and Bruce Springsteen t-shirt made into a mast for our raft. In the words fo the back of the video for Cannbal Holocaust (1980) “Better to be in the warm stomach of a friend than the cold, cold ground.”
PHILLY: Joe’s just delirious from the delicious and totally harmless puffer fish stew I fed him in his sleep.
DOMO: Yeah, Joe is the biggest so he’s the most dinner, unfortunately for him. Plus, with Joe out of the way in this hypothetical cannibal nightmare scenario, my chances of survival would go up massively. It’s a win win.
Finally, when the ship sank you each managed to save one person from the wreckage. That person is the one musician that has influenced your career the most, shaped your way of thinking and your outlook on life. Who did you save?
JOE: Dan Lilker, he's tall so could pick fruit from the highest trees, can roll good joints if there is weed on the island and has the advantage of already looking like he's been marooned on a desert island.
PHILLY: Oh fuck, most of the artists I love are going to be a nightmare to spend time with. Can you IMAGINE how annoying Keith Richards would be? He’d be asking you to roll him fags non-stop. I’d probably bring Brian Johnson of AC/DC along. He looks like a sensible chap and I’m fairly confident he knows how to do woodwork, smelting, masonry, plastering, wiring, and miscellaneous animal strangling / drowning in a bag as required. I’d also imagine all he wants in life is pints of Guinness and the occasional game of darts, which we could easily contrive using some bamboo spikes and an animal hide. 180 Brian! Hole in one! Stop stealing my thoughts, Brian, I’d shout.
DOMO: Well, the whole thing started for me with Beethoven. Unfortunately, not only does that come off very pretentious but Beethoven was a notorious curmudgeon and grumpy man due to chronic stomach and liver ailments. Not the ideal companion for a desert island. And I’d have to eat him at some point.
Thanks for your time. We hope you get back to dry land before you're next due out on tour!
PHILLY: To be honest, I now have a much better life here on the island than I did in Teevee Land, where I went to jobwork and watched my lapbox, so I’ll stay here. In fact, I’ll shoot any rescue party full of clumsily-made poisonous arrows as they disembark their boats. I am the king of AC/DC Island, hear me quack!
