Trousers!

All is quiet at The Grymoire Observatory. A thick blanket of snow covers the house and grounds and, as the first flinty winter starlight catches the dark and glossy laurel groves along the smothered gravel drive; night drapes its somnolent shroud peacefully over cherub and chimney pot alike. Mr Chives shivers in his threadbare cardigan deep in the servants' quarters and with an arthritic hand clutches a rusty poker and worries a solitary, surly coal in the leaky pot bellied stove that smokes ineffectually next to his mouldering bed. Throughout the silent pile, frigid draughts stir greasy dust and forgotten holly wreaths from Yuletides past, mice huddle timorously behind dark wainscotting and Mrs O'Flaherty mutters a silent prayer of thanks for bed socks.
Then at the stroke of midnight a ghostly shriek suddenly rends the stillness. A series of dull thuds and alarming creaks follows and Mr Scott's collection of disturbing nicknacks flies from its shelf in the vestibule, scattering who knows what across the long suffering parquet floor. Moments later a terrified, wide eyed Mr Scott himself appears, nightshirt flapping as he runs the length of the great landing - arms waving and beard streaming - in pursuit: no less an apparition than…a disembodied pair of stout corduroy trousers! Following them both, Mr Shillaker emerges from the shadows and lets fly at the errant hosiery with an antique blunderbuss full of rusty tin tacks and pebbles. Clocks fall from the walls, Mrs O'Flaherty tumbles swearing from her bed, stuffed animals shed their fur, Mr Chives' false teeth fall out and plaster falls from sagging ceilings! For, dear readers, these are no ordinary kecks but none other than the mythical Haunted Trousers of Cronkleton! What unquiet spirits lurk within these otherwise unremarkable strides? What are the dark forces that propel them without visible means of support and cause them to gyre and ululate to the terror of anyone unfortunate enough to happen upon them? Why were they in Mr Scott's bed chamber anyway? Nobody knows. Suffice it to say that these dire pantaloons are sure to make their presence felt at the Headgate Theatre on the evening of Saturday the 29th of January 2011 when The Grymoire present an evening of whimsicality, music, light refreshments, mild peril and mirth between 8pm and 11pm!

Tickets a mere trifle at £7 or £6 concs - be there and all will be revealed.

Crumbs! Grymoire lads discover elusive Higgs fruitcake

Not to be outdone by Geneva based eggheads at the CERN LHC facility, Messrs Shillaker and Scott have for some time been trying to detect a theoretical form of fruitcake, thought to have existed as an exotic by-product of the big bang or something. Mr Leslie Grymme-Harbinger reports

The Grymoire Observatory, with it's majestic chimneys, leaky gutters and whimsical eaves, presents an unlikely looking venue for experiments at the cutting edge of physics and bakery but it is here that the search unfolds for the so called Higgs fruitcake; something of a holy grail for light refreshments experts, and until recently undetected outside of a few obscure scientific papers, and field equations. The outlandish experiments have thus far involved different kinds of cake and pastry being hurled together at impossible speeds to produce the so called 'building blocks' of cake. 'The quest of all cake lovers for decades now, has been to discover what actually constitutes these apparently familiar, commonplace and delicious objects' says Mark Shillaker, technical director for the project 'it was thought for generations that they were made by really nice ladies out of eggs, flour and sugar etc - but we now know there's way more to it than that'. Adam Scott, the project's propulsion specialist agrees: 'In our early experiments we fired Swiss rolls towards each other out of antique blunderbusses - to our great surprise a number of much smaller exotic cakes such as mini rolls and French fancies were produced - this has led us to a quest for higher and higher velocities to see just how far we can go'. How do the team answer growing concerns that their experiments constitute a real threat to the planet? 'There has been talk of us accidentally producing a bread pudding so dense that it may collapse under its own gravity and cause catastrophic indigestion and ultimately the destruction of parts of Berkshire - this is nonsense' insists Mr Shillaker, 'peddled by loons on the interweb and blogs'. So what of the elusive Higgs fruitcake - the mysterious cake type thing that underpins all sweet baked goods? The theoretical tea time delicacy had eluded the Grymoire Observatory team until last week when unprecedented levels of energy and complexity were deployed to finally crack the problem. 'Basically, we sort of rigged up a crazy machine using several hoovers, a massive cardboard tube from when we had the upstairs landing re-carpeted, some left over fireworks and a couple of very nice lemon drizzle cakes that Mrs O'Flaherty made' Mr Scott continued 'these were launched towards each other at colosal speeds - almost 12 miles per hour in fact - at the end we found a lovely fruitcake with brown sugar on, in a nearby cupboard - the evidence is irrefutable.'

Not all sceptics are convinced, however. Morris Cringe, the owner of Cronkleton's busy family bakery recently told reporters 'I send a lot of different cakes up there - they're mad on the stuff - I think they just fill whole rooms with them and play silly buggers all day - anyway I don't think my bread pudding could destroy Berkshire - Norfolk possibly but then only if it was put near a bread pudding of equal mass thus causing an unstoppable chain reaction'.

For anyone interested in exploring the question of cake further; visit the Headgate Theatre, Colchester on 29/01/11 at 8pm for A (Slightly Odd) Evening with The Grymoire - Tickets £7 & £6 concs

A Slightly Odd Evening With the Grymoire

Greetings Friends of The Grymoire!

Well, Autumn has well and truly swept his russet cape over the cracked tiles and weed choked gutters of the Grymoire Observatory. Stark red stalks of cornus glow in the chilly, lambent, late afternoon sunshine as Mr Chives grumbles and coughs his damp, tubercular way around the decaying herbaceous borders with rusty secatuers, wincing at his arthritic knuckles and whistling tunelessly. Fat, patient spiders dangle like predatory fruit from their sparkling, pendulous webs and scuttle gleefully after hapless midges and dead drunk wasps; all is mouldy, drooping, sodden and bent amid a riot of reds, browns, yellows and wreaths of bonfire smoke.

Meanwhile, deep in the bowels of the Grymoire Observatory, the ancient rhythms of that crumbling pile continue uninterrupted by the turning of the year. The Tea Trolley of Occult Significance continues to trundle on its inscrutable hajj along the dark, oak wainscotted passages - Philip the Homunculus lovingly blows the last of the wood shavings from his home made pipe rack and Messrs Shillaker and Scott put the finishing touches to their latest wax cylinder of popular beat classics.

And in the cool cellar, surrounded by dusty rows of pointless bottled quince and yellowing back-copies of Amateur Satanism, the housekeeper Mrs O'Flaherty distractedly cranks with a beefy Irish forearm and inky fingers, the handle of an ancient clattering Gestetner duplicator. She pauses, glancing upwards through narrowed eyes as the unmistakable sounds of sorcery, organ grinding and Osiris worship disturb her ill tempered reverie for the hundredth time that morning and then looks down at the freshly minted stack of parchment flyers that is the fruit of her morning's labour. Taking one from the top she reads aloud:

A (SLIGHTLY ODD) EVENING WITH THE GRYMOIRE

at the Headgate Theatre, Colchester

Saturday 29/01/11 - 8pm

Tickets: £7 or £6 concs

Messrs Shillaker and Scott invite you to join them at Colchester prestigious Headgate Theatre for their yearly jamboree and an evening of splendid jiggery-pokery!

attractions include:

Grymoire Bingo, The Pants of Doom, the Tea Trolley of Occult Significance and The Mademe-cum-Nearly Horn Dance!

GASP! At the terrible tale of Meredith Hardy and the Alderman! LEARN about the nesting habits of the delightful ptarmigan! SEE what happens when Adam forgets to have a proper tea before getting to the performance! GROAN at the infuriating self justification of alcoholic car salesman Terry Shears!

Warning: Light refreshments may be fired into the audience at low to medium velocities.

In Short - A Capital Evening is Assured!

……daft buggers, mutters Mrs O.

Grymoire at Hollesley 2010

Hollesley Ukulele Festival 2010

Well, what a splendid adventure awaited the lads yesterday at the Hollesley Ukulele Festival 2010! Picture the scene dear reader: Mrs O'Flaherty, having tearfully packed an enormous hamper with enough cold chicken, plum duff and game pie to feed a small army, stood waving by the porch while Mr Chives, grumbling and lumpy from summer midge bites and lumbago lent a greasy elbow to the task of securing it firmly astern the venerable but spirited Observatory charabanc. Thus, back-firing, clattering and wheezing through the Suffolk fields, scattering squire and peasant alike amidst clouds of acrid fumes and chicken feathers, our erstwhile companions arrived finally at the sleepy hamlet of Hollesley where they encountered a veritable ukulele utopia! Delightful Chinese lanterns, gaily decorated pavilions, swaying willows and curious, wry folk from the four corners of the Empire and beyond, combined to produce a most edifying and entertaining evening enjoyed by all. Particular mention must therefore go to: the incomparable Vonck and Vlam (pictured) whose eccentric and spirited performance brought forth no small amount of mirth from the assembled throng; The Toots (firm friends of The Grymoire) who gave of their very considerable all, often with the most heartfelt singing; the suave and talented Frenchman, Yan Yalego who astonished the rapturous crowd with his 'human trumpet' and last but not least the Re-Entrants who polished off the night with verve and irreverence! Various other highly creditable performers conspired to entertain and amaze throughout the night and it would be not be too large an exaggeration to say that the most capital evening was experienced by everyone!

New Single - Terry Shears - Free Download

Dear Friends of the Grymoire - apologies for the lack of posting of late - After a busy New Year and Spring, Mr Scott and Mr Shillaker have been tucked away in the bowels of the Grymoire Observatory tinkering about with whatever it is they tinker about with down there, drinking copious amounts of tea and plotting the next installment of their jiggery-pokerous chronicle . The upshot of this occasionally noisy and spider-dislodging industry, which last week involved the vicar having to be summoned at very short notice, is the production of this latest ditty by the chaps; 'Terry Shears'. It charts the sorry rise and fall of Cronkleton's unlucky, bibulous car dealer and late night chip-eater of the same name. How he embarked as a young man full of hope and stinking of Brut 33 in the 1970s, bright eyed and at the cutting edge, and how he ground to a greasy, maudlin halt twenty years later; out of work, palsied, whiskey stinking and rheumy eyed. Anyroad - enough rambling from yours truly right-click here to download your very own copy gratis! Right - off to chivvy the chaps now to prepare for their forthcoming appearance at the prestigious Hollesley Ukulele Festival!

The Grymoire - Lucky Seven

Here we are...in a field...with a camera...and some hats!

Last orders ladies and gentlemen!

With the warm late Spring air, fragrant and buzzing with hyacinth and busy, newly awakened insects; Mr Chives sinks gratefully into his ancient, rotting, potting shed armchair and, raising a dusty, brown bottle to his spittle flecked lips , contentedly gulps an enormous, greedy swallow of 'Thackeray's Aulde Dirigible'. Leaning forward later in a pleasant, drunken fug he scrunches one bloodshot, lascivious mincer to a hole in the blackened, tinder dry larch-lap and blearily focuses the rheumy, cataract stricken orb on the distant, recumbent form of Mrs O'Flaherty; snoozing fitfully on a creaking sun lounger near the dove cot. With wood pigeons cooing in the nearby woods he fumbles in his ragged waistcoat pocket, produces a chewed stub of HB pencil and a few scraps of paper and begins to meticulously sketch the snoring, twitching housekeeper with short, deft strokes, paying particular attention to the curve of her monumental bosom and the unaccustomed flash of ankle protruding from the hem of her rough serge, floor length gown. He will consider these etchings later at his leisure. Meanwhile in the Observatory library Mr Scott squeezes the last obstreperous imp into the receptacle on his infernal Wheeze Organ and Mr Shillaker, shattered from a busy day's futtock trimming, prepares the necessary incantations in case of unscheduled jiggery-pokery - for the night is nigh! Yes, loyal friends..at The Bull in Crouch Street, Colchester on Tuesday the 27th of April in the Year of Our Lord 2010 - The Grymoire will perform their trademark blend of nonsense, necromancy, blather and cake at the the prestigious Candle Lit Lounge in the Main Bar - the evening starts at 8:30pm and admission is free! Let the nincompoopery begin! New material will be performed and CDs offered for sale!!!!!

Return to The Bull - 27-04-10 UPDATE

Huzzah! Those infamous nonsense-mongers The Grymoire will be unveiling NEW MATERIAL at The Bull, introducing the audience, for the first time, to Mr Terry Shears, alcoholic car salesman, former nominee for the 1978 Car Salesman of the Year competition (cruelly robbed, but more of that on the night), History Channel buff and raconteur PLUS a spectacularly GORY nursery rhyme for grown ups AS WELL AS the story of a rum cove cruelly exploited by powerful men for possessing an unusually long and jointed toe. As if all this were not excitement and incentive enough, the somewhat delayed but otherwise rather wonderful Grymoire: Curious Worlde EP will be available for sale for a mere £5, yes that's 5 ENGLISH POUNDS - and includes amongst other delicacies that epic, serendipitous anthem 'Lucky Seven'! PHEW!
Therefore, we entreat you, ladies and gentlemen, to make all haste unto The Bull wherein a most capital evening is assured!

The Toots

Here are some peeps known as The Toots whom we met at the marvelous Quay Theatre Sudbury Open Mic recently - this is lovely..

The Grymoire return to The Bull - 27/04/10 - oh yes!

Well, bless my soul vicar! No sooner has Mrs O'Flaherty applied a fresh coat of creosote to Mr Chives than the sudden, squalling April showers freeze and drench the wheezing ancient, driving him, reluctant and grumbling to his sickbed, an industrial strength mustard poultice and Wright's coal tar inhaler. To further add fiddlesticks to her fuss and bother, Mr Shillaker and Mr Scott, fresh from their recent performance at the Red Lion in Manningtree (where, it should be noted, a substantial amount of cake was distributed despite manifest indignities) are getting well and truly under her bunion'd feet with their constant cacophony, contraptions, contrivances and incorporeal caper. As the rain lances the moss stricken lawn with vicious stair rods and soaks the moles in their dank, root lined tunnels, her patience, ever sinew taut..snaps. With one huge, Irish bound Mrs O'Flaherty vaults the oaken stairs and rumbles, invincible, down the landing following the shrieks and groans of tortured souls to where those irksome Grymoire boys are ensconced in their occult laboratory fiddling about with dark forces and giggling. "You daft beggars get yeselves to the telephone now and find ye some feckin' work!" she bellows; her good eye a baleful gimlet. Terrified, the two friends scamper to the huge Bakelite monster in the vestibule and with Mrs O'Flaherty looming over them like a storm cloud in support stockings they call that nice Mr Cooper at The Bull in Crouch St, Colchester who agrees to employ them for the evening of Tuesday 27/04/10 to provide their trademark brand of music, light refreshments and necromancy for the benefit of the nice ladies and gentlemen therein. Jiggery-pokery commences at 9pm - Admittance Free

Red Lion Update 03/04/10

Greetings - just a quick heads-up for Saturday night - apparently we're on at 8.30pm - needless to say the errand boy responsible for bringing this information to our attention has been sent packing from the Observatory door with an aniseed gobstopper and a swift but well aimed clout round the noggin - so in the unlikely event that you've finished your tea and you particularly wanted to catch your favourite fez'n'turban'd songsters, as well as the night's other delights, then that's the time to arrive. Toodle-pip!

Hostess Trolley update! Ye Grymoire Support the Hurd 13/04/10 Red Lion Manningtree

Dear friends..you will no doubt be thrilled to hear that that most infamous of necromantic artifacts, The Hostess Trolley of Occult Significance will be making an appearance during our support slot with old friends The Hurd at the Red Lion Manningtree on 13/04/10! Who knows what delicious treats the chaps may distribute to the eager throng? Who can say what dire jiggery-pokery may ensue should the Trolley break loose from its moorings and, possessed as it is by unquiet spirits beyond human imagining, lurch, casters squeaking, into the crowd? For this is no ordinary Trolley - at night it squeals and rumbles through the darkling passages of the Grymoire Observatory, an eerie greenish luminescence casting a lambent glow over the dusty tapestries and uncomfortable chairs that line the gloomy, oak paneled walls. Mr Scott's collection of disturbing nick-nacks rattles and shakes as it trundles past; its inscrutable purpose unknown and doubtless unknowable. Imbued, apparently with a will of its own, it disappears for weeks at a time into the bowels of the Observatory; often emerging suddenly and terrifyingly from a spidery nook or long abandoned laboratory. Only last week, for instance, Mr Chives was startled half out of the meagre remnants of his tattered wits as the blessed thing, taking a corner near the library on two wheels, sent him blundering head first into Mr Scott, plastering the startled maestro with Victoria sponge and badly denting his organ. Make haste then to the aforementioned hostelry and witness first hand that unique combination of black magic and light refreshments that is The Curious World of the Grymoire!

Warning: May contain traces of nonsense.

Quay Theatre Sudbury Open Mic

Mr Grymme Harbinger can only recommend the Quay Theatre, Sudbury and its astonishing Open Mic night! What a curious and eclectic soiree awaited the lads on yet another of their spontaneous forays into the eccentric, peculiar corners of music land! Who could have known that Colin, who's laid a few floors in his time, once met skiffle legend Lonnie Donegan reading his fan mail in an MG Magnet outside a newsagents in 1957 and that after a couple of glasses of red would be compelled suddenly and alarmingly to jump and gyrate in the style of The King despite a recent hip op? Who indeed could have predicted the ghostly, ethereal organ grinding of the glamorous, if slightly disconcerting, 'Denise'? Further jiggery-pokery included Dave Vernon channeling Johnny Cash, two impossibly talented young guitarists with more talent than was right or fair and an enthusiastic tribe of ukulele practitioners known as Toots. All in all a splendid evening was had by all as The Grymoire stuck it to the assembled throng re ornithology, Satanism and nude gardening. A great honour was bestowed upon the chaps when no less an august presence than a certain retired and charming lady Mayor of that delightful burgh warmly squeezed Mr Shillaker by the hand and effusively thanked both of them for their sterling efforts! You will no doubt be relieved to know that Mr Grymme Harbinger was finally on hand to whisk the lads back to the familiar confines of the Observatory,a mug of cocoa, a stern lecture on the evils of boastfulness from Mrs O'Flaherty and bed. Some names have been changed. Next time...Jonty pulls it off!

Grymoire support The Hurd 03/04/10 Red Lion Manningtree Essex 8pm

Blimey Vicar! Well, spring has definitely sprung at The Grymoire Observatory; perfect weather it seems for a spot of nude gardening! Clad only in a stout pair of tan brogues, Mr Scott beats down the blackened hemlock stalks with a whippy twig whilst his erstwhile compatriot Mr Shillaker, in nothing but a pith helmet and neckerchief jauntily sets to in the herb garden and tickles the stubborn winter sod into a fine, loamy tilth. As robins and redwings hop happily about in the dogwood, Mr O'Flaherty the postman (and husband of the terrifying Grymoire Observatory housekeeper and All Ireland gurning champion Mrs O'Flaherty) wheels his rusty penny-farthing up to the garden gate and raising his small, exquisitely crafted alpine horn to chapped lips, lets fly a low, sonorous note - baaaarrroooommm! Swiftly donning their rustic smocks Messers Shillaker and Scott down tools and rush to collect the post and to their delight, amongst the papyri, parchment, circulars and overdue gas bills, discover an invitation from their friends The Hurd to deliver their finely crafted nonsense at an evening of musical entertainment to be held at 8pm until 11pm in The Red Lion, South Street, Manningtree on the 3rd of April in the year of our Lord 2010. Further delights include Dragonfruit! Let there be jiggery-pokery!

Slackspace art happening thingummy doodah dada..

Well, an enjoyable if slightly bizarre evening at Colchester Slackspace with your favourite duo's finely crafted songs and end-of-the-pier nincompoopery wedged a little uneasily between edgy, randomly generated sonic noodling from Za Ginipiggu and 45 minute, improvised tribute to Can from Mother Sky - all very po-mo! Anyway, something for everybody there and some poetry to boot. Thanks to all concerned.

Colchester Slack Space March Mini-Festival 13/03/10 @ 9pm

Za Ginipiggu presents:
Natural Selection

"Destroying the conventional composer in favour of relinquishing control to YOU - the audience."

@ Slack Space Colchester

Dave Merryman
Za Ginipiggu
The Grymoire
Mother Sky

FREE ENTRY - GUEST LIST ONLY
To guarantee entry on the night, email your name to colchesterslackers@googlemail.com

Here be stuff...

Stop by here at the Grymoire Observatory for all your Grymoire news and nonsense - we'll be posting on gigs, recordings and other blather just as often as we ever can! Right, off now to remonstrate with Mrs O'Flaherty over the lamentable state of this evening's rice pudding..