So. In the time before people ridiculously started sentences with “so”, a disillusioned, guitar playing, punk, surrealist poet wanted to perform his art to the general public. His name was McDada. However, he lacked the courage to perform alone and looked around for like-minded souls. Alas and alack there were none in his circle of friends for McDada was different. He didn’t want the trappings of success, the ordinary, the run of the mill. He wanted the different, the unknown for he was a fractured genius.

What to do?

Get drunk and see what happens.

Before he knew it, a gig was booked at Washington Arts Centre.

He would play the Guitar

The Walsh brothers were in. The younger On drums and newspaper. The elder mouthing His poems.

A Dancer. Karim.

A mannequin Sally

Was there a bassist? No one recalls. Maybe it was Otto. Invisible Otto.

Dadakopf were born.

– Brian Amnesiac

Life consists of burning up questions

– Antonin Artaud

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