Around May 1985, in an old Perth city apartment building called Bishops Grove, a group of friends got together and collaborated in the making of some very raw, garagey music. Some would perform on tape and on stage, while others of the group chose to stay back in the shadows, aiding and encouraging. Thus, Texas Trevor and the Tennessee Pickle Flickers were born.
Between May and July of that year, this short-lived ensemble played publicly only twice, made a music video, and recorded several rather irreverent songs, jams and improvisations. The line-up consisted primarily of Phil The Beast on lead vocals, Texas Trevor and Pasedena Pete on guitars, and a small drum machine known as a Dr Rhythm. A few other members of the loose collective of friends would occasionally provide back-up on other instruments.
The band's earlier sessions yielded the songs "Hoo-Cum", "The Beast Song" and "Mean Old Catholic Blues", and their debut gig was not long afterwards, a band talent night at Murdoch University. The Pickle Flickers were awarded equal second prize that night, a triumph that rallied its members to strive for greater things.
More home-studio sessions produced new originals, such as "Bhagwan", the rambling monologue "Shit, What've I Done?", and Saskatchewan Stu's enigmatic ballad "It's A Long Way From San Antone To Lafayette When You're Drunk".
A new career high was reached in July when the Pickle Fickers were booked to play the prestigious Steve Phillips 21st Birthday Party. A packed audience was treated to renditions of all of the band's best material, and the night was a triumph, marred only by a minor incident where whip-wielding Phil accidently clipped Pete on the mouth. But like a true trouper, he kept playing while the blood, unstaunched, continued to flow.
After this great success, the band, sadly, put their instruments away and quietly disbanded. Perhaps wanting to go out on a high, they never played together again. A canny move, it would seem. A lesson to other bands is indeed evident here. For while the world must endure the constant annoying white noise of a lot of other lesser bands, the echoes of the Pickle Flickers' shrieks and guitar feedback remain around us to this day, clear and undimmed, reminding us of their wit and anarchic humour, and their sheer unbridled gall in daring to be dissonant.
