The Desertshore official release date of 25 November was announced in September. It was a double album release, Desertshore and The Final Report, recordings we three as X-TG had made together in our studio. The artwork echoed back to TG’s first album, Second Annual Report, being white and simple. The two albums were represented in the artwork as well: the vinyl and CD front and back covers were divided in two (top and bottom), one half matt with the title Desertshore in spot varnish, and the other half in gloss varnish with a matt The Final Report. The accompanying booklet was likewise divided in two, each half giving information on one album, and included a postcard as a nod to the first termination of TG. We produced a special limited edition on white vinyl in a two-tone grey slipcase with a photograph of X-TG signed by me and Chris.
Desertshore had been a mammoth task, emotionally and practically. The production costs were very high but to us it was a labour of love so profit didn’t really feature. Now that it was an X-TG release too any loss wouldn’t affect Gen.
Negotiations for a settlement of the 2010 TG ‘tour’ losses were still hovering in the background like a black cloud, and were not helped by an interview with Gen back in February in which he was reported as saying he was suing me and Chris over the TG re-releases, that we hadn’t had his permission for them or paid him. He omitted to say that there were thousands of pounds’ worth of outstanding TG ‘tour’ losses that he’d refused to accept any responsibility for and which we hadn’t reconciled yet.
In consideration of that and Gen’s objections over Desertshore we’d done all we could to avoid any possible unnecessary disruption to what was, for us, a lasting token of remembrance for Sleazy. But within hours of the announcement being posted, Gen took to social media to publicly whinge and repeat his previous unfounded accusations. But what was worst of all was his call for people not to buy Sleazy’s memorial album: ‘DESERTSHORE is NOT a legitimate TG release. BOYCOTT it.’ Why would anyone do that? It was clearly an X-TG album. We and so many others had done this for Sleazy. I was upset and angry that Gen had portrayed himself as a victim. Not a word about Sleazy. It was a selfish, contemptible and disrespectful thing to do. Gen followed up his boycott tweets with an email to Cargo advising them not to release the album and that he was preparing a legal letter.
We released the album for Sleazy.
8 December 2012
We still can’t believe this year’s successes. We have two albums that have been in 2012 albums of the year (some at times listed together) and CTV got in top lists for cover design. I guess it would be a good time to bow out, i.e. if we didn’t already have more to do. The amount of press we’ve had has been staggering. CTV is up to 81 reviews that we know of and the TG re-releases and X-TG are climbing up there too. Previously you’d be happy to get 3 or 4.
Our last gig of the year was performing as Chris & Cosey at Berghain club in Berlin. Nick came with us, and Richard and other friends made the trip to watch us, which made it very special, like a birthday treat. Berghain is regarded as one of the world’s best nightclubs, famous for its excellent sound system, events that go on into the next day, its rigorous door policy, its historic gay fetish club roots, and much debauchery and hedonism – a larger and more industrial version of Heaven in London. It was perfect for us.
The Tuesday after my birthday, me and Chris were in London doing a CTV interview with Nik and signing Desertshore photos. The promotion for the X-TG album was in full swing and going strong, even making the front page of the Guardian as their album of the week. I was thrilled for Sleazy and everyone who’d contributed and supported us.
A live Q&A we did at Rough Trade East gave us a measure of how our work on Sleazy’s behalf had been received by the many hard-core TG fans that attended. The audience were so very grateful that we’d gone ahead with the album. It was good to talk about Sleazy with a lighter heart, having fulfilled our promise to him. The whole process of creating the tracks had served to put to rest a lot of the pain of losing him. At first we’d choke up or cry when we heard his voice, especially the last message he left on our answerphone, then we started smiling and laughing more at his endearing mannerisms. He would have laughed his head off with glee and disbelief that the album made the UK charts at no. 40 and was in numerous ‘Albums of the Year’ lists. With such an unbelievably great reception and reviews, we felt our decision to complete and release the album had been fully vindicated. I toasted Sleazy with the last of his bottle of vintage port that had sat in our kitchen since 2010, when he’d left for Bangkok and never come back.
8 January 2013
We’re going to rationalise our schedule for this year. Talk of us performing in the USA again but we will push it to spring 2014. We have much recording we want to do and too many live gig offers. We’re at the stage of needing the money live work brings, loving them but not having the energy of youth. Sigh.
There comes a time when, whether you like it or not, your body tells you to slow down. Much as everyone hates that moment, it’s a reality we all face. But to reach a point of physical limitation is tough when you so want to carry on and do more. We weren’t alone: other artists we worked with at festivals were reaching burn-out point – and some of them were twenty years younger than us. The schedules for playing live can be unforgivingly physically demanding. Trouble is, there’s nothing that can compare with when you’re on stage, lost in the magic of music with an audience that is with you all the way.
The other conundrum was that, while we were gigging, we weren’t recording, and that really bothered us. We had a stack of unreleased material and files of ideas.
An interim measure presented itself. I was cooking in the kitchen and Chris was in the studio going through our Carter Tutti ideas. The studio door was open and I heard a rhythm and melody clip. ‘That’s it! That’s it!’ I shouted at him, and rushed into the studio. ‘Don’t change a thing. That rhythm and melody is it – it’s awesome,’
We worked for the rest of the day building a track from a small rhythm clip and hint of melody, as well as sampling an old metal (Coolicon) lightshade, like the one Delia Derbyshire had used for sound in the 1960s when she worked at the BBC Radiophonic Workshop. The track became our Carter Tutti single ‘Coolicon’. That would serve as a taster for our next Carter Tutti album and we’d play it live as the last song of our ‘Carter Tutti plays Chris & Cosey’ gigs – and to signal that we would be moving on from performing the older Chris & Cosey material.
We took the train from King’s Lynn to King’s Cross for a lunchtime meeting with Paul to discuss our 2013 schedule. We met at the usual place, Costa Coffee in York Way, affectionately known to us as ‘the TG office’. It was where we held most of our meetings, it being so conveniently close to King’s Cross station.
We’d had some great offers for gigs and projects and we hated having to turn them down, particularly Phil Collins (the Turner Prize artist), who wanted us to collaborate with him for his show in Cologne. Clashing dates and deadlines can be so aggravating. From our first live performance of our ‘Carter Tutti plays Chris & Cosey’ material back in February 2011, we’d been inundated with gig requests and spent the best part of that year and 2012 performing at sold-out shows and music festivals around the world. It looked likely that 2013 would be the same.
Working non-stop doesn’t leave a lot of time for a social life either. What little spare time we had we used for quiet time together and seeing family. Not being able to go to see Pam Hogg’s collection at London Fashion Week was a huge disappointment for us. We would have loved to be there, especially to see the English National Ballet dancing to Carter Tutti Void music.
Sometimes we get lucky, though, and timing is on our side. David from KOKO club, a friend of Richard’s, got in touch on behalf of an old friend of ours, Scumeck Sabottka. We’d known Scumeck since the 1980s, when he’d tour-managed us for C&C gigs in Germany. Reading his name again triggered such fond memories of fun times.
Scumeck was now the agent and coordinat
or for Kraftwerk’s live performances and he invited us to the Saturday-night Man-Machine show and after-party at the Tate Modern. I’d intended to get tickets as a birthday treat for Chris but they were like gold dust. Scumeck really made our day. Having played that space, we knew how tricky the sound could be, but they nailed it, helped by the twenty-four or more speakers around the hall. The show was perfection. Immaculate presentation, and the synchronised 3D visuals were mind-blowing. The entire audience stood in 3D glasses, staring and looking up, watching and listening to such influential master craftsmen of sound. It was mesmerising. We had a fabulous evening and saw loads of friends and music colleagues. The Kraftwerk show will forever be etched in my memory and I doubt, for me, that it could ever be bettered.
12 July 2013
I got the confirmation from Andrew that Tate Britain ratified the acquisition of three of my works. Yeah!! I’m very happy it’s all finally gone through … I’m hoping that as we wind down the live performances I can get more focused on the art projects I have listed on my much neglected ‘to do’ list! We’ll be poorer without the gig money but fulfilled in the most meaningful ways.
My work had been acquired by other museums and respected private collectors but I was particularly pleased to get confirmation that three of my works were now in the Tate Britain permanent collection: two of my 1970s magazine actions (‘Alpha No.5’, ‘Exposure Vol. 2 No.7’) and the recent 2010 work, ‘Confessions Projected’. Not that being ‘accepted’ was or is a goal with any of my work; neither is acknowledgement or ‘success’. I always think that, once released, it will find its place in culture at the right time – over thirty years, in my case. At least, unlike some, I’ve lived to see that happen.
On a lighter and earthier note, who would have thought my vegetable-growing would be of interest to the wider world, but apparently it was. The Quietus was doing a documentary series of ‘At Leisure’ films with, amongst others, Stephen Morris of New Order with his military vehicles, Tim Burgess, Steve Ignorant of Crass on his lifeboat duties, and me talking about growing vegetables organically. Films about what we all did in our downtime from music, art or other public activities. Getting down and being at one with nature is how I unwind. To help generate life from seed and soil is a gratifying feeling. A mutually beneficial collaboration. Luke Turner, who interviewed me, knew a little about plants and enough about me to make it interesting.
Our garden was a popular film location – me and Nik had been interviewed by Red Bull Music Academy sat at our picnic bench. It was for the publication For the Record, fifteen conversations between artists who they felt had influenced the way people listen to music. I was initially approached after my Red Bull talk in London and I was supposed to discuss the physicality of music with Stephen O’Malley of Sunn O))). Disappointingly, he couldn’t do it. I proposed Nik. Todd, who was moderating, provided some good comments for our conversation. It was enlightening listening to Nik talk at length about her approach to making music.
The summer of 2013 was shaping up to be the sunniest ever, metaphorically speaking – and for the most part literally. We released ‘Coolicon’ as a 10" vinyl single, which sold out, forcing a re-press. The reviews were so good and affirmed the direction we wanted to go in for our next Carter Tutti album. I just kept wondering how everything could be going so well – and when I’d be brought down to earth.
4 September 2013
Yesterday we got a signed-for 7 page legal letter from a UK solicitor working on Gen’s behalf claiming against IR, and me and Chris as individuals for copyright infringement and damages regarding the TG re-releases. We are advised to make a ‘substantial response with a satisfactory settlement offer’ by 5pm on 16th September. It’s all so unnecessary and especially nasty suing me and Chris individually …
The doorbell rang. Our friendly postman stood there smiling. ‘One to be signed for today. Looks official.’
I wondered what it could be. As I opened the envelope and saw the first few lines I called Chris from the studio. ‘It looks like that legal letter Gen was preparing last year has finally arrived.’
There’s nothing like a signed-for legal letter to get your attention. We both read through the pages, our jaws dropping at Gen’s temerity to accuse us of copyright infringement over the TG re-releases. Considering how many copyright infringements we’d suffered in relation to those past TG bootlegs, Gen’s legal letter was risible. Documentation existed that he knew about which supported the TG re-releases. We’d wondered why he’d been quiet for so long about reconciling the impasse over the TG ‘tour’ losses. Now we knew. All we’d had from Gen in the past months was a polite request for paperwork he said he needed for the IRS. I could be forgiven for thinking that may have been him garnering information for his lawyer.
We talked to Paul and took legal advice. Gen’s legal letter contained inaccuracies and omitted pertinent information that would cast doubt on the claims of so-called copyright infringement. But his legal letter did include confirmation that Gen had left Throbbing Gristle in 2010. Finally his leaving TG was officially confirmed. We supplied supporting documentation in a thirty-page response, refuting all the accusations Gen made against us. Paul suggested and arranged a follow-up meeting with Gen’s lawyer, both to save a lot of time and because we and Paul weren’t sure that the lawyer possessed many of the relevant facts about the claims Gen had made.
Paul met the lawyer at the firm’s office in London but it didn’t go very well. Paul left the offices saying all further communication should be in writing. It had been a brief meeting and it was the last we heard from the lawyer.
Coincidentally and ironically, Spydeee was in correspondence with Gen about why Gen had infringed his copyright, after Gen had released a COUM album that included Spydeee without informing him or acquiring his permission to do so. It was Spydeee’s run-in with Gen that brought me and Spydeee back together. He’d emailed Gen asking for an explanation and then wrote to me to ask for my advice on Gen’s response … which I understood hadn’t been very helpful.
16 January 2014
I’m more or less back on UK time … hope I haven’t spoken too soon! Dexter is pleased as punch that we’re back. He’s being very vocal and all over us. I’ve got a ton of emails to answer but I’m taking it easy this week.
We returned from playing our final ‘Carter Tutti plays Chris & Cosey’ USA shows in New York and Chicago, having had to add more dates as the scheduled concerts sold out. 2014 was already mapped out. First thing every morning I’d consult our appointment diary and year planner to see what was next on the horizon. I had two weeks before we were off to perform in Holland – possibly enough time to get over any residual effects of jet lag and my cold, but worrying that my sore throat may affect my ability to sing. It didn’t – the shows went smooth as silk.
Once home, we had a three-month stretch where we weren’t travelling that we’d earmarked for doing remixes, remastering my 1986 video Pussy Got the Cream for an exhibition at Tate Liverpool, and preparing a new live audio/video piece, Impulse Response II, for our Carter Tutti concert at the J. G. Ballard-themed Only Connect Festival of Sound in Oslo.
I was in the grasp of a ‘loop’, in a state of heightened tension, constantly aware of a tightening coiled spring in my chest that was only relieved by being outside the ‘loop’ – quiet time with Chris away from the studio and in the company of close friends and family. Not for the first time the notion of maintaining a sense of balance and perspective in my life had entered my thoughts, probably helped by Les and Pam, who had been telling me to slow down.
We took a weekend break and went to Graham Duff’s fiftieth birthday bash in Brighton. Before we went in to the party we took a stroll along the seafront opposite the club. I’ve always loved the sea at night: it has a dark, eerie beauty that I find scary and captivating in equal measure, not knowing what lurks beneath the hidden depths of the vast, endless expanse of undulating blackness that disappears into the distance. I can stand for
hours entranced by its movement and sound, breathing like a brooding ecosystem or powerful unfathomable monster. My face smarted from the cold sea breeze, and I could hear the cheery voices of Graham’s partygoers and music punch the air then disappear in rhythm to the opening and closing of the club door. We turned and walked over to the club, got checked off the doorman’s list and went inside.
The room was full of Graham’s guests and friends from his world as a screenwriter and actor. We could just see Graham over the heads of everyone, looking the picture of happiness. We had birthday love hugs and Chris and I tucked ourselves away next to the table full of birthday gifts, adding ours to the growing pile. Standing at the side and taking in the crowd, we could see familiar faces, then realised that some were familiar to us, having just watched them acting in Game of Thrones or other films and TV programmes. Ben Wheatley was there, the director of one of our favourite films, A Field in England. Chris and Ben had had a brief back-and-forth on Twitter over a limited-edition poster from the film. From across a very crowded room he gave us a ‘hello’ smile and raised eyebrow, and a rolled-eyes look about the guy talking to him. He looked a bit peeved, like he’d been hijacked by an ambitious networker.
Maybe we should have rescued him but it wasn’t long before our would-be ‘safe zone’ was invaded and people started coming over to thank us and tell us what our work meant to them. I never know what to say in reply. ‘Thank you’ always seems inadequate. Mal, our old friend from Cabaret Voltaire, was with us when one guy came up, bowed down low to me and Chris and said, ‘You are my heroes’ – then ran off.
Mal was smiling. ‘You two have a strange effect on people.’ It seemed so.
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