it's a mod, mod world (of surfing)

Extradited from the Australian colonies, Tim Crabtree (a stowaway, a mad mod, a gentleman) retraces the serpentine journey of his ancestor Rodney Sumpter through the fields, marshes and haunted castles of his homeland , somewhere between Newquay and the orbit of Neptune; carrying a suitcase full of secrets and a Middle Earth midlength – a child’s bike horn announces the insect surfer’s arrival at the Edge of Entropy – talking hedgehogs – talking clouds – rubbing shoulders with the mystical past (Merlin, The Mad Hatter) while looking like a trainee accountant.

the paisley underground project

the count five insect surfboard shaped by thomas bexon, glassed by jake bowrey, logo lachlan leckie, kent turkich speculation - the paisley underground project

rising from the paisley underground

five years ahead of it's time - midlength mind rocker for insect surfer dee - shaped by thomas bexon and glassed by jake bowrey

the otchkies

Culdesac-psych-rock band The Otchkies krept out of the swamps of Tumbulgum, New South Wales, Australia, like a mist - crawling up the walls of the sad town like a scream. Disjointed oriental blues - Taman Shudesque levitation – moving objects with only the will of the mind – brash cowboys wandering up the garden path to a higher plain – fairy tales and fairy floss fairly far out – head spinning beautiful sounds snatched from an eternal summer. The Insects caught up with Angus Russel from The Otchkies, or at least a strange vision of Angus, a ghost, to further explore the depths of this notorious yet hazy entity – a band name whispered by crazy mod girls in Gold Coast carparks – uttered  by crazy sharpies over Chiko Rolls in front of haunted kiosks – not dared spoken about in darkened pool halls.  I asked – What is The Otchkies? He responded – ‘the mystic desert it is…don’t suppose there’s any Soft Machine cover bands playing tonight?’     

insect trip - go!

Dream it up baby – creeping out of a quagmire through to the paisley covered moon valley of joy – black rain subsiding - it's too much - just call an ambulance! - before they come to get me I’ll be somewhere they can’t find me – surfing on the other side of the moon with bobby brown - eternal summer ecstacy (the count five psych-out space log coming soon…watch this inner space)

the universe is permeated with the odour of paisley

tim crabtree - a mad mod exradited after stowing away to the colonies, living under a mushroom for too many hazy years to recall - found this gleeful stubby in a psychedelic picnic in the homeland, in a dream

a far out trip into the paisley underground

Wolf girl took me down a port city street on a foggy knight – black rain – floods - something strange in a deep sea cave beneath – breathing heavy like a giant sleeping moon-monster – cracking the port city buildings, the gaol, the haunted lunatic asylum - it appeared in night-terrors – an angel of death. Wolf girl steps aside into a shadow. She picks up a jar of eternity laying in this sidesteet since 1966, which had been reopened once or twice since then, and subsequently abandoned until now. The vessel contains the secrets of the paisley undgerground. Wolf girls eye's are wild.

‘do you see my wild eyes?’

She twists the lid. Velvety clouds of joy explode from the jar, slaying the cave beast. The dark angel withers. Outcries of ecstacy! Amazing visions - salty merchants carrying new world treasures – ted spencer dripping with paisley sea tears extending through hollow sections of glee –the easybeats play wild vibrating beat in a cavern – up on a sun-soaked-hill-covered-in-dry-wild-hay-and-a-few-flowers jangly mystic guitars chime – September girls in paisley dresses trip through these fields – keven brennan surfing to love – orange skies - bobby brown raw and alive – magic 9th dimension surfing vessels – the count five – the electric prune spoon – Thomas Bexon sails by on a tiny yacht heading for the edge of the flat earth!

gentle-breeze-sunny-hillside

The paisley underground series by insect - eternal surfing boards from the summer of 66, decorated with incredibly scarce vintage paisley fabric inlays - contact insectsurf@bigpond.com