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!