Category: Writing

When I first visited Puppy Mansions (Westbere Road), I remember Brett and Tony reminiscing about when they used to squat in Covent Garden. Brett had a strange tale of a model pigeon he used to dangle out of the window on a piece of string and how passing tourists would try to grab a hold […]

Was it the best of times or was it the worst of times? Maybe it was a bit of both. No. Surely, it was just the worst of times. It was 1979, a year that never could have imagined itself eulogised by the Smashing Pumpkins fifteen years on. Punk maybe wasn’t so much dead as […]

WHEN A PUPPY IS BORN: Some notes on the beginning of creating Kill Your Pet Puppy, by Tony D. As the late summer of 1979 eviction and disintegration of the fire station squat in Old Street splintered into petty squabbling, fear and cliques we went our separate ways. Bob Short and his crew had discovered […]

This is being written on 11/01/08, a few months since this site was unleashed. We’ve had some great feedback from people about it, which is great and helps keep us warm at night. The reason it was set up was because a few of us were getting confused by the punk books coming out which […]

A scan of the original of this is in the Photo Gallery section. It was written by Tony D. in March 1982. National tragedy 23 million people still employed! The Autonomy Centre in Wapping has now officially closed after being largely unused in its year long existence- apart from the gigs there every Sunday from […]

Doctor Death (not his real name) was about as bad an advertisement for five years worth of medical training as you could possibly imagine. It wasn’t so much the fact that he was a bad doctor . Whilst he was definitely crap in his chosen field, that was beside the point. It is just that […]

  Here is a review of a ‘new’ cd by The Mob which has just been released by Overground Records. I would have reviewed the disc myself, but since I wrote the “excellent sleeve notes” – see below – would not be an objective review. If you buy this record, your life will be better… […]

Bigger print here

Out near (what seemed like) the wilds of Old Street, we moved into a new squat. The Fire Station on Tabernacle Street was a five story building enclosing a central courtyard. Most of the upper levels were coated in a snowy white covering of petrified pigeon droppings. Downstairs was a very large basement where some […]