Martin Phillipps

This is a short tale, in appreciation of Martin Phillipps. As many of you already know, he wrote and played wonderful songs, predominantly with his band, The Chills. The opening bars of Pink Frost is in my audio delicious top ten, though for me the real wonder was in his lyrics. As well as the much loved and widely acclaimed music, he was a great person, calm, quiet, richly smart and funny. He was also Launch Man, and he took our childish popcorn provocation and turned it into grown-up, rusty-dark, velvety art.

This story, though short, requires a bit of setting up, so bear with me. 

I found myself in New Zealand, down south in Dunedin, a town known for its vibrant musical culture. I ended up staying for a fantastic couple of years, living in Victorian wool warehouses, doing art, learning drums, playing music and having a great time with wonderful people. I miss them still. 

For a while I lived, and later played, with King Loser, Chris and Celia (one day I will write properly about my friend C) in a disused karate dojo. Celia and I played pool as a doubles partnership. I was quite good, she was rubbish. Our USP: it’s not about winning, it’s about being really bad losers. We came to the table once and someone said in heartfelt tone, ‘Oh no, it’s the Pool Bitches!’ Well, that stuck – with pride. My friend Marco in Hawaii even sent us baseball caps. It was probably the only time ever that Celia would dream of wearing such an item. I cannot believe that over the years and miles mine got lost. 

Me and Celia in our Pool Bitches baseball caps. Celia wears hers with a vintage two piece. I was probably wearing lipstick to stop her nagging me about making a bit more effort with my style.

For now unknown reasons, one drunken night, we gave some of our dear friends nicknames, which were Staunch Man, Raunch Man and (particularly unfairly) Paunch Man. Later we added, by mutual consent, Graunch Man and Launch Man. We saw it through to the extent that, in rudimentary fashion, we screen printed each of them, with absolutely zero printing set up, an op-shop T-shirt with their new names. 

Bob (graunching nicely) Celia, and Martin (launching heroically) – showing off our screen printing skills.

Down the line, as these were all formidable musicians, (though perhaps, in hindsight, not necessarily with enough time on their hands to be as fully committed to our entertainment as we were ourselves) we set them a song writing challenge. I had recently finished reading a novel, about Godzilla and Gojira. Sadly I can’t remember the title and author to properly credit – if anyone has any ideas, I’d love to hear them. But this book gave me the song title: Aunch Men Versus Pool Bitches on the Streets of Forgotten Cool. 

Life changed, I moved back to England to wait for my first daughter, Lilian. We lived in Brighton. A few years down the line I heard that The Chills were playing in town. I went along to the gig, glad to know I would, albeit briefly, catch up with an old friend. 

In the middle of the set came a moment of magic. Martin, the world’s least histrionic rock star, said in his laconic way ‘This one’s for the Pool Bitches in the audience.’ They played Streets of Forgotten Cool. I roared YES! With my arms in the air. In a room full of people, and not a one of them knew or cared about my obnoxiously triumphant fist pumping moment, my winning-at-life glee. By the skin of my teeth I avoided turning to strangers, mad-eyed with elation, saying ‘it’s me! It’s me! I’m the Pool Bitch!’ It was both tragic and glorious. 

This is of course, a small thing, however big it bounced me, but it is also a testament to his amazing creative talent, and beautifully understated sense of fun. It was an honour to briefly know Martin, one of the people who really could describe the world for the rest of us, in all its bittersweet, dark and murky beauty. 

Thank you Marty. Go well x

An honourable mention has to go to Bob Scott who actually wore his Graunch Man T-shirt when The Bats played Brighton – truly my cup* ranneth over. Love to you Bob, I hope our paths may cross again x

*wild glee and ego

Wasted lives that used to shine
Then stand around and wait in line
To beat the bitches playing pool
Down the streets of long forgotten cool