Black Mekon
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Black Mekon

Birmingham, England, United Kingdom | SELF

Birmingham, England, United Kingdom | SELF
Band Alternative Blues


This band has not uploaded any videos
This band has not uploaded any videos



"time out review"

"They play garage rock that is at the point where 50s rockabilly leaves to take a bath and punk takes over. A very rebel-chic sound, good for marathons of aerobics!" - Time Out, Lisbon - time out, lisbon


Free Range Hassle - LP 2006 ColdRice Records (deleted)
Broke Into Always On - LP 2009 ColdRice Records (deleted)
Y.A.M.C - 7" 2010 ColdRice Records (deleted)
Stolen Bible 2 - LP 2013 PNKSLM Records




These two vicious bastards (Black Mekon and his brother Black Mekon) were named after the legendary Black Mekong, illegitimate children of prostitutes visited by missionary preachers, abandoned to fend for themselves on the banks of The Mekong River.

Raised in a whorehouse by drunk dockworkers in a town called Christ’s Gasoline, they were born with only one arm between them and grew up selling sand to sailors and wrestling vermin and wives for the amusement of the locals. The rest of their upbringing is steeped in myth and told mostly in sea shanties, according to legend they escaped on a raft made of old Cramps and Doo Rag 45s using John Lee Hooker and Pussy Galore vinyl to paddle themselves to more familiar shores.

Somewhere along the line they acquired 3 more arms, a gypsy curse, drumsticks and a guitar, and ran into a fellow bluesman on the lam, Stunt Pussy, who agreed to help them whenever they needed to sing for their supper.

The live show? Blistering in-the-red punk blues, their travelling circus has graced shores all over Europe and the USA, 3 successful tours of South America and has designs on planting itself firmly in your lap next.

“We do not sing tales for tales sake, we can only approach this at 300mph with no regard for personal safety or truth. Your party needs us, as every good party does, for insecurity, tightrope-ing and hot lava. Black Mekon is your daddy, baby.”

None of what you read may be true, all of what you hear is. Serve it up!


Black Mekon began as art. Their very first gig was projected onto a wall at a ColdRice show (the assholes didn’t even grace us with their presence), they shrouded themselves in mystery providing only a web page with audio and a logo (no photos or biog or contact) and they refused any communication with the outside world. They weren’t being pretentious, it was because Black Mekon was simply art for art’s sake, there was no need for any of the the other baggage that comes with being a rock n’ roll band. But somehow since then they have toured Europe, USA and South America several times. So I guess the message from Black Mekon is obvious… don’t try.


Setting the record straight, a history:
For the press, because you so often fuck this all up.

1. Our names are Black Mekon and Black Mekon.
There is no such person as 'Steve' Mekon,' Dave' Mekon, 'Dan' Mekon or Bertie fucking Basset Mekon. My name is Black Mekon and my brother's name is Black Mekon. It's that simple. We have never heard of any Steve, Dave, Chris, Pete, Julius, Marcel or whatever. Also, we have no idea who this Chopper or Copter are, and we certainly have never drawn a comic book.
Black Mekon and his brother Black Mekon. It's that simple. When we are on the road our good friend Danny C helps us out on stunt pussy duties, plays some drums for us, helps us find our way. No, not 'Dan' Mekon, Danny C.
Got it? Good. Now take your fucking foot out of your mouth son, I don't want you to ruin those nice shoes.

2. We don't lie.
All of our stories are true stories. They just seem fantastic because they are told well.
"I prefer the ridiculous to the sublime".

3. We want it to sound that way.
Yes we sabotage ourselves regularly. We do this because we don't want to lose our love of art, danger or excitement, we never want to lose track of what makes us want tinnitus and blood stains in our underwear. That happens with comfort and complacency. You really want to listen to a new Rolling Stones record? That's right, no one does.
So, to keep ourselves hungry and at a nursery school level of craftsmanship we break our fingers, get into impossible relationships that cloud our judgment and empty our pockets, drink, smoke and ingest the right amount of substances so our memory is barely functional and we make sure we never, ever practice.
We prefer those sounds a band makes when they are desperately trying to reach something and can't quite do it. Trying to sound like Bo Diddley and getting it so wrong it sounds completely fresh and new. That 'uuuungh' you involuntarily make as you are desperately trying to reach the cookie jar on top of the shelf. Much better than the bored sigh someone makes as they finish routinely fucking their partner of 25 years.

4. We care.
We make our music for good people. Nice, safe, good people. Because, you see, we are no-good bastards so they don't have to be. We sail the seas fighting harpies, fucking sirens and stealing from pirates so the good people can continue getting right with God and keeping their lawns clean. We keep our hearts oily and black so they can hold their loved ones close to them and be thankful they never have to go to the greasy holes in their souls that we dwell in. Good folk, we are doing this for you and yours! We are here to take the bullet so you never have these blues.
And all you lowlifes that are like us, keep up the bad work.
Sleep tight. Black Mekon is your ang