Once upon a time there was a monkey who lived in the jungles of the amazon. He was a happy monkey, who liked jazz dance and the occasional lollipop. All was well until one day, whilst playing kiss chase with tree frogs, he got lost.
He walked for days and days, until he stumbled across a hut that had a sign saying Juan Carlo’s Recordio Shack. He went inside the mysterious looking hut, and was amazed by the pieces of black plastic in dusty old sleeves. He bought some of the discs with the bananas that he had saved up on his journey and managed to hitch a ride with a strange old man named Alfonso, who said he was going to ‘rich place’.
After a three-day drive, most of which he spent sleeping, he awoke in what looked like another world. This place had numbered roads, yellow things on wheels and not a tree frog in site.
He spent the next few years running away from 80s pop music, which was far more scary than any predator he had encountered in the jungle. He missed Mama and Papa Monkey, but was enjoying his new life of exploring these exciting sounds. However, it was short-lived, as one day, whilst walking in Central Park, he was captured by an evil man, named Barry Manilow, who kept him in a cage and made him perform songs like ‘Monkey See, Monkey Do’, ‘Do The Monkey’ and ‘Everybody’s Got Something To Hide Except For Me And My Monkey’.Manilow took our beloved monkey on his ‘Nursing Home UK Tour’ in 1995, where he managed to escape in a city called Manchester. Still only a young monkey, he was left to fend for himself, stealing bananas to pay for his growing record addiction.One day, whilst queuing for crumpets in a cafeteria, he met a kind badger, who told him of a magical place called Common. He took the monkey to this place, where he lived the life of monkey luxury, feeding on banana toasties, drinking banana beer and getting men delivering fresh bananas ever week.
He liked it so much he decided to stay. To celebrate, he threw a party. He called it ‘Hear No Evil’, which was inspired by all the badness he heard during his time with Manilow. The party was such a success he decided to do it every week. Since Thursday was his favourite he chose that day. People came every week to hear our monkey play the music he had collected on his magical journey. The people would hear jazz, soul, funk, hip-hop, dub, afro, latin, reggae, broken beat, house, disco, boogie, folk, wobbly electronicness and more!,
Then the monkey heard of a place where he can make more friends to come to his party. So he decided to join. And that, my friends, is where our story ends... Come and see our beloved monkey, playing records, every Thursday at Common, in Manchester’s Northern Quarter.The monkey is dead. Long live the monkey.
