Mother of Oedipus for those of you who aren't up on Greek mythology, Jocasta hanged herself when she discovered that she'd married her own son. He only poked his eyes out, obviously not as disappointed as she was. Of course, if his dad, Laius, hadn't left him to die at birth (having been warned by a prophet that his son would kill him), Oedipus would never have been taken in by the King of Corinth, never have unknowingly killed his dad in a quarrel, or have defeated the Sphinx and been granted his mom's hand in marriage as reward.
This brief Eamon Andrews job is not intended to display the depth of information in my Encyclopedic Dictionary, but rather to illustrate Jocasta's belief in destiny or fate - call it what you want - to the extent that they call themselves Jocasta and their LP "no coincidences".
So, I dusted off the Lazy Journalist (tm) interview machine for possibly the last time (it's getting a bit knacked-in, so I'll have to build mark II soon) for an interview at the recent Boatrace gig. Answering its Q's: Jack and Tim.
The `no coincidence' theme kicked in straight away. The Lazy Journalist (tm) asked Tim what his favourite flavour crisps were and he went into verbal overdrive, revealing that he and I share a passion for the bacon-flavoured yet strangely non-greasy FRAZZLES (a sadly under-rated crisp). Tim then went on to describe how, aged 9, he endured the childhood torment of waiting for a TV-advertised product to appear in the shops -- in this case Scampi Baskets - and became addicted to them "..but they stank..like you'd been doing something..err..RUDE!". Rock'n'Roll.
But the LJ(tm) turns up flippant questions too. On the subject of influences, heroes and contemparies, Jocasta see themselves as uninfluenced by other musicians and not sounding like other bands. In fact, they "make a determined effort not to sound like any other band". Tim, in particular, has no time for heroes: "bands should reserve their worship for their own art". Non-musical heroes included Quentin Crisp, which tied in nicely.
As the interview wore on, the machine wheedled out the fact that Jocasta get their space-age clothes made for them, that they're happy with the V4/Sony relationship, they would appear on Kid's Telly and, in common with all the musicians who've had this question, they have about £5 in their pockets (although in Tim's case, augmented by a bus pass where the obligatory `amusing photo' featured a Citizen Smith beret!).
That's Jocasta then: intense live show, difficult to pin down yet familiar and with a couple of guitar-pop singles in "Go" and "Change Me" that indicate their fate will not be worse than death.
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