Time for Streamline

Fear not Balustraders, your favourite west country collective have not disappeared into the deppest darkest depths of some horrific abyss (also known as Trowbridge) and neither have they given up their West Country roots and moved to the big city of Norwich after making it big with the release of Stalisfield. If only!!

Instead they've been having a bit of a break from the fearsome and hectic world that is alt.westcountry and recharging their batteries. They've even started work on new material so with all the excitement that greeted a return to Alpine Studios this week, we caught up with the man Carter who was trying to sneak a quick cup of herbal tea while Lex was tuning his guitar out the back.

BHQ: So how's tricks Carter? I hear you've been working on new material?

C: Indeed we have. There are 2 new song doing the rounds, Mojave Streamline and The Girl Who'll Never Know My Name

BHQ: Mojave Stremaline, what the hell's that? Anything to do with the Mojave 3?

C: As if?! What kind of derivative unoriginal goons do you think we are...

BHQ: Well...

C: Hush! Mojave Streamline is a work of unparalleled genius. I was visited by the spirit of Clive Dunn in a dream, who appeared to me in a desert naked except for a small papoose and a burberry sporren. He told me how the world was like a bric-a-brac shop and that the people in the world are like broken tricycles, action men with only one foot and jigsaws without pieces and that it was my job to find those missing pieces and fix those twisted spokes with the power of song. I wasn't sure what he meant byt this and so I asked, "Oh mighty Clive, share with me your wisdom so that I might know the power of this place. Where are we?" And the one word he said to me before diappearing into a trail of smoke that smelt faintly of stale wee was "Mojave". Hence, Mojave Steam-line

BHQ: But I thought you said it was called Mojave Streamline

C: I know, Lex still can't type when he writes up the lyrics. And how can you argue with that it's like destiny or something?

BHQ: Quite, so it's a song about that bloke from Dad's Army in the desert in the buff?

C: Well, in a roundabout sort of way I guess so yes! Fortunately he didn't expose his doubt to me, cos there is no need for that kind of sight when dealing with deceased British character actors! Whatever next, Richard Briers rusty sherrif's badge?

BHQ: And what about the other song, The Girl Who Never Knew The Time or whatever it's called?

C; Well, that's more of Lex's area of expertise as it is one of his songs really?

BHQ: Who'd have thought that?

C: Tell me about it!

BHQ: All the nice girls still hate him?

C: But of course. It's summer, the sun dodging carrot top can't go outside without sweating buckets or turning as red as a fire engine that's just careered off the road into a telephone box full of small children on a day trip to the Wonderful World of Rouge.

L: Oi! I heard that you cheeky sod! And is that a herbal tea your quaffing? I told you about drinking that crap, it'll make your wee go funny and it'll get you all excited for the rest of the afternoon and you won't be able to whistle or play the tambourine!!

BHQ: I guess we'd better let you get back to it then Carts'.

C: No, please help me. I don't want to be here any more. I'm scared. He makes me do things, horrible things, no more spandex and tassles, please... help!

And that was where our exclusive interview with the Cartman was caught short and they returned to the darkened room that is where the magic happens and all we heard again was the maniacal cackling of what sounded like some kind of desert dog. Very peculiar.

This is Balustrade HQ, over and out!