Blackpool (Pt 2): More from the margins of the margins

Part Two – Something Else

Walk through one door in the Blackpool underground, and three more open. No sooner had I published part one than a flood of other names, faces, fragments, and frequencies emerged—reminders of just how sprawling and entangled the scene really is. The problem isn’t that it’s hard to find; it’s that it never stops expanding.

The bands, the artists, the offshoots – they’re not chasing fame, genre categorisation, or even coherence. They’re building something messier, more honest. Having spent some time trying to define what makes this town’s alternative music output so distinctive, I think the answer might be in the rejection itself.

Take an evening walk along the promenade and you’ll hear the usual parade of tribute acts belting out Is This the Way to Amarillo? to semi-interested stag parties. Meanwhile, tucked away in basements, spare bedrooms, and pub back rooms is another Blackpool – one that couldn’t care less about convention or applause. There’s no hunger for “cool” here. There’s no effort to ape Manchester or Liverpool. It’s all very Blackpool, in its own stubborn, untidy way.

Enter the Ceramic Hobs… again
So, let’s return to Ceramic Hobs – specifically the “rock family tree” drawn by Simon Morris, included in the Black Pool Legacy double vinyl booklet. (A proper review of that record is forthcoming.)

The tree is a wonky map, incomplete by its very nature, but it offers an invitation. Each name is a doorway to another band, another idea, another refusal. Some omitted from part one now find their way in. One notable absence from the tree – but not from the story – is Fes Parker.

Once dubbed “Blackpool’s answer to Syd Barrett” by the Evening Gazette, Parker was a key influence on Simon Morris and the Hobs. Their track M61 is a cover of one of his songs. “As Diz Willis was to Smell & Quim, so Fes Parker was to the Hobs,” Morris said. Fes released a small but potent body of work through various bands before his passing in 2009 at the age of 61.

Another key figure is Roger Wikeley (aka Ramjet in the pic above), noted in the family tree for leaving the Hobs alongside Ian Butterworth in 2001 to join Section 25. I remember seeing Section 25 with both of them—a low-key powerhouse of a lineup. Roger, it turns out, is also the man behind Temple of Din, a sprawling archive of Blackpool outsider music and one of the most valuable resources I’ve come across in researching this piece.

“Abstraction is not alienation—it is architecture for the mind.”

….so Let’s get building!

Some of the omitted, now included:

A-void

The origin point for much of Blackpool’s outsider underground, A-void was Stan Batcow’s first band, formed in 1982. Raw, abrasive, and joyfully nonconformist, they existed more as a spark than a fixture—appearing on early cassette compilations and laying the groundwork for the later Pumf Records aesthetic. According to Stan, “without A-void, none of the other stuff would have happened.” Their embrace of DIY culture, noise, and absurdity paved the way for everything from the Def-A-Kators to the Ceramic Hobs and beyond. Read more at the pumf archive

Def-A-Kators

Early punks with kazoos and a sense of humour—what more do you need? Formed by Stan Batcow (Sgt Panic), Roger Wikeley (Count Basic), and Duke Box, their first album Dawn of the Def-A-Kators is gleefully daft: parody, pastiche, and punk spirit held together with tape and laughter. “Now I Wanna Be Your Hamster” has less Stooges and more Iggy ‘Plays’ Pops along with an abstract of Funkytown (Punkytown) by Lipps Inc.

By the time of 1996’s Return of the Defakators (recorded during a Hobs sabbatical), things had turned more experimental—echoes of Howl in the Typewriter start to appear in the sound collages and satirical edge.

Both releases available via Temple of Din

The Alvaros

A spontaneous collective of members from Vee VV, Sign Language, The Acumen and Switzerland. Gigs were few, but recording sessions were plentiful thanks to Derek Dickson’s 4-track. Lo-fi gold dust from 1989. Listen to Haunted from Portastudio demo’s (1989) below

Chainz

One of Blackpool’s earliest punk outfits, merging glam’s flair with punk’s urgency. Live sets moved seamlessly between originals and covers—from Virginia Plain to Escalator Hater. Not much survives, but here’s a demo from Storm Studio and an archived Evening Gazette photo.

Listen to Be A Kid from their Storm Studios demo (1980) below

The Sunday Trip

Experimental and unorthodox even by Blackpool standards. From their demos and YouTube fragments, you get flashes of jagged post-punk, delay pedals, and dream-state weirdness.

Below you can listen to Movement from the Northern Woods demo’s (1985) and (amazingly) a video of them performing in Blackpool captured by Glyn Bailey.

Switzerland

Synthesisers meet Western soundtracks. Think Bauhaus-meets-Morricone with a hint of early Ultravox. Angular but melodic, weird but composed.

Listen to World’s End from the Silent Sky demo’s (1986)

Engine Heart

A spiritual successor to The Communion, Engine Heart embraced synths and added Neil Barnett and Matthew Clayton to the lineup. The result was more ethereal, more melancholic—a shift in atmosphere but not in attitude.

Listen to Across The Glass from the Park Lane Studio demo’s (1985) below

Earth Dust (2022–Present)

One of the newer arrivals from the Fylde coast, Earth Dust blend muscular psychedelia with dark, dynamic jams. Formed in 2022, they’ve already amassed two albums’ worth of material and performed with the Hawklords.
Familiar Personnel:
John Blacow – Drums
Jeff White – Guitar/Vox
Raptor Ramjet – Bass/Vox

Listen to the track Earthdust below

Glyn Bailey

Although included in part one’s list of artists Glyn is another ever present on the Fylde coast. A muso’s muso with a serious back catalogue and still prolific today. His latest album Oran’s World received glowing praise from Sea of Tranquility “As all excellent albums should, Glyn Bailey’s latest excursion asks many questions, while merely suggesting you look for the answers. The journey along the way is both captivating and rewarding. ”
Listen to Oran’s World here

To be continued…

As always, there’s more to uncover. The rabbit holes multiply, and each click reveals another name, another track, another relic of a scene that refuses to be pinned down. But that’s the Blackpool way: not a linear history, but a constellation of beautiful detours.

References:
Temple of Din website
Pumf recordings
Glyn Bailey website
Evening Gazette article