In the true spirit of our new Capitalist Religion... You can BUY our souls on
Hi again. We just did a session for some friends up in Kerry, recording 'Song For Edie' . Heres the footage of the day... Rex...
If you'd like to see our sexy new press shots, taken by Pat at Hype Photo & Seamus M, click HERE .
And now you an enjoy the rough storyboard for the Action Adventure Romance and Love video that still hasn't appeared!. Good for a laugh though....
If you'd like to see some pictures of our Limerick Ann Summers Gig (well the pictures are more of the models in lingerie than of our gig) Just Click HERE .
A LITTLE MORE ABOUT BEVEREN'S TOY:
Beveren's Toy draws its members from some of the corners of Ireland. Well, one of the corners. The one with Cork and Kerry on it And the
top bit of that corner, on the way up the coast to Dublin. Actually, Ireland doesn't really have corners.
"The Toy," as the band is sometimes known, is a five-piece anarcho-rock
post-funk demipunk quasi-vegitarian infra-soul outfit,
though if you confront them with such an accusation they will most
likely deny it. Formed in Cork from the elements carbon, hydrogen,
oxygen and nitrogen, the boys are chiefly concerned with narrating -
often at length - all the little things that matter, such as:
Gaining the upper hand in a punishing game of "hit me in the head as
hard as you can".
Falling over the odd time, just for the sake of it.
Embracing complete strangers when nobody else is looking.
Licking the eyeball of a willing participant.
Hoarding mink.
Developing a liking for those strange coffee-flavoured sweets you
still get sometimes.
Finding the cure for James Blunt. Not a cure for him, he's not sick.
Finding the cure for the very concept of Blunt, so he will never have
existed at all.
Having investigated the possibility of compiling a portfolio of
cover-songs to accurately portray their varied interests, The Toy
decided that to do their crusade any justice at all they'd have to
start writing their own stuff as the baseline for a project to embrace strange mink when James Blunt
isn't looking.
It is hoped science will soon find a way to blend their
musical spectra (which range from sparse, poignant songs through
intensely funksome anthems and rock rioting to huge, eyeball-licking,
head-melting madness) into a single genre.
Beveren's Toy. Not suitable for children under 36 months. Also available in red...(see our 'pics' for further details)
Beveren's Toys are:
REX MUNDI - Rex has tattoos in places other people don't even have places. He
likes a joke, is fond of a smoke, and it on the blacklist for entry to
the small, xenophobic country of Albania. It's a long story. He plays bass and
guitar and sings a lot and has penned most of the insanity Beveren's
Toy produces. On stage, he takes the form of a large shadow, floating
high over the auditorium and inspiring fear and poetry in those who
experience him. He may or may not be from New York. There's just no
way of knowing. Ask Heisenberg; he'll tell you why.
JAZZ HAND - Jazz isn't his real name, but it suits him better than might, say,
Harold or Bob or Neville. At airports, Hand is quite often mistaken
for his guitar, such is the bond between them. He does not sound quite
the same when strummed, however, and over the years his bandmates have
learned to tell them apart with a plectum and a good hard scratch.
Jazz Hand's voice has been likened to broken glass dipped in honey and
fed to a kitten. His turn-ons include sand and wallpaper and he writes
songs about thinking before you act and then forgetting what you just
thought about.
MAX MONROE - Does exactly what it says on the tin. It's a tin of "plays baritone
guitar, bass guitar and harmonica". Max is the one responsible for
Bevern's Toy's posters, and as a result has been given a stern
talking to by four bishops and a cardinal so far. We have high hopes
for an audience with the Pope when we tour Italy. Max has a byline as
a transcontinental express courier, and leads the world in
exports of "the vibe, man".
"It's all about the vibe."
BAD MARXX - A testament to the rhythm at the core of all people, Mr.
Marxx is the public face of Beveren's Beat. In fact, he does not play
drums: we just tie angry cats to each skin and let them flail,
presenting Bad to the world because he's rather pleasing to
look at. From time to time, the mentally weak have been cast into
utter psychosis by trying to keep track of his arms as they whizz at a
remarkable turn of speed from high to low and left to right. He enjoys
a nice rim-shot from tom to tom.
LUCIUS MENDACORI - Lucius trusts only Lucius, and among his foibles refuses to reveal his date of birth to anyone. Apparently, he has his reasons. He is the keyboardist of the band, and occasionally moonlights on trumpet, and
guitar, and vocals, and bodhrán and other percussive bits and pieces. Mendacori finds it distasteful to mix business with pleasure, and prefers to focus only on the latter. When he drinks too much
coffee, he writes songs about old men and the adventures they're sure
to have had.
Get Your Own! | View Slideshow
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