Music:
Member Since: 7/13/2006
Band Website: tedmilton.com
Band Members: BLURT
Ted Milton
Steve Eagles
Bob Leith
ODES
Ted Milton
Sam Britton
Sounds Like: Blurt short bio at Wikipedia
"Group founded by poet, saxophonist and puppeteer Ted Milton in 1980 in Stroud, Gloucestershire. Ted Milton's brother Jake Milton, formerly in psychedelic group Quintessence, on drums and Peter Creese on guitar. After three albums Creese left the band to be replaced by Steve Eagles, former member of Satans Rats and The Photos. Shortly thereafter brother Jake left to be replaced by Paul Wigens, with a short interim on drums by Nic Murcott. Eagles was replaced by Chris Vine as guitarist from 1990 to 1994. The latest drummer in the band is Bob Leith, also on drums in The Cardiacs.
Blurt's compositions are based around repetitive minimalistic guitar and/or saxophone phrases with relentless, machine-like drum beats, over which Ted Milton orates his lyrics in a variety of "voices" that betray his days as a puppeteer. The overall effect is hypnotising, compelling and sometimes even unsettling.
Blurt have a very strong live reputation due to the extra-ordinary theatrical talents of Ted Milton."
Blurt at Glastonbury Festival 2004 by Mike Flinn
Few trios, in 'jazz' terms, venture into the "bizarre yet compelling" territory as Blurt. Formed in 1980 it's both heartening and extraordinary that such a twisted trio have survived, and indeed, thrived through twenty years of gigs and as many albums. Led by their founder Ted Milton, this is no contrived attempt at being strange for the sake of art, besides their punk-edged rawness always prevents things turning indulgent - or locked in pastiche - the frazzled funky beats rooting Milton's squalling sax and rabid poetic swipes, while swaying, grinding guitar slices through the groove.
Thus Milton's crew this Glastonbury feature new member and ex-Cardiacs drummer Bob Leith and proto-punk guitarist Steve Eagles whose been at Ted's side for the best part of 15 years. Whether or not the crowd were prepared for the sparse assault of Milton's Beefheart-inspired vocals, with lyrics that invariably bite chunks out of daily life, is not really the point, featuring Blurt honors the rebellious creativity that fuels Glastonbury.
I'm afraid this reviewer is in the main unfamiliar with Blurt's prolific past, but the dry thumping grooves, drive themselves home with a freshness and simplicity sadly lacking in other `experimental' units. Milton plays with such an instinctive will over his sax that he is never less than fluid, yet his twisted version of Coltrane's sheets of notes has a startlingly pungent sound, and to Milton's credit his harmonic inventiveness actually marks him out alongside Evan Parker et al, as a true innovator in his field.
As the gig took shape their punk edge began to spill through, Eagles' guitar scraping and wailing by turns. `I Am An Empty Vessel (Making Lots Of Noise)' found Milton's lyrical core, the ex-puppeteer's sense of theatre found him writhing towards the floor, his exasperated delivery exploding, then calming to a whisper. Walking from the stage without looking back at the close, this seemed fitting exit for a band that have never dwelt on the past and remain a vivid force today.
© 2004 Mike Flynn
Blurt Night vs Wreck This Night
@ the OCCII / November 16 / Amsterdam
by Bart Plantenga
"Practice letting go"
o Down in the Argentine
Impossibly intense and yet flippant charm of Blurt carried the night. Everyone I talked to was ignited, warmed over, thrilled, and glowing by the end of the night. The trio of Ted Milton (sax, vocal, violin), Steve Eagles (guitar), Paul Wigens (drums) reinvented old chestnuts in a way few bands can: tunes sound simultaneously familiar and totally new, simple and incredibly dense, chaotic meanderings within a very tight pop song rhythms, extrapolatory jagged conniption sax solos that had one jazz saxophonist rhapsodizing that Milton was touching on tones never touched by jazz musicians except maybe Albert Ayler. Wigens was perfectly subdued - no flashing bombast while Eagles played rhythm and lead guitar that sometimes sounded somewhere between bagpipes, prepared strings, and a joint strike fighter taking off from a wet runway.
"How does a dog die? / Roll over like Bartok / wag his legs in the sky?"
o Poppycock
Milton's adlibbed extemporaneous poesie, the babblings, the jabbering all have that wonderful quality of finding the muse in the rubble. Brilliant jags of word-smithing in this context be it Mark E. Smith or Lee "Scratch" Perry or Tom Waits or Lord Buckley or Shelley Hirsch has always left me fascinated by the power of nurtured improv. I am someone who carries a piece of limp damp paper on stage and then have trouble reading my scribblings without stumbling into some state of utter misremembering. (...)
With the rerelease and reappreciation of much No Wave material from New York and Ze Records and the film "24 Hour Party People" focusing attention on Factory Records and the recent "Wild Dub: Dread Meets Punk Rocker Downtown" on Select cuts it is only a matter of time before Blurt is rediscovered - for the first time and just in time.
Their set stuck somewhat to songs featured on their new "Best of Blurt - Volume 1: The Fish Needs a Bike" on Salamander Records a nice and noisy bouquet shoved into our impatient and attention-span stressed faces.
© 2003 Bart Plantenga with permission
New Musical Express
' BACK TO THE ROOST', 1985
by David Quantick
"The very well-spoken Mr Milton
is holding his cup to his ear. Lost
in an analysis of his interest in
American electro, he is very
calmly letting most of his coffee
cascade delicately down his arm.
Ummm, Mr Milton ... you're
spilling your coffee down your
arm.
"Oh am I? Oh, yes..."
Ted Milton has been quietly
flooding the dry gullies of pop for
years now, and people have
stopped noticing him Me
included. For example, first
question: what have you been
doing since the demise of Britain's
best-loved aural assault, Blurt?
Ted informed me that Blurt still
exists.
"It's just that we haven't played
in London for two years. And, of
course, " he remarks with perhaps
a soupcon of irony, "that means
that the band is dead."
Blurt are continuing happily, I
learn. An LP with the name of
'Friday The 12th' out soon on the
Belgian Himalaya label, a lot of
foreign travel behind them, and
e'ne now, a tour of these isles,
culminating in a London
appearance at the beginningof
March. For those familiar with the
Blurt noise, the band now prefers
the sound of the keyboard to than
of the guitar. For those who aren't,
Blurt are to white funk and white
noise what Towering Infernowas
to bee-keeping.
And here's a surprise. Ted
Milton has made a solo single.
It is called 'Love Is Like A Violence',
and Danny Kelly made it his single
of the week. I don't rate it quite so
high, but it is intriguing. 'Violence'
is a taut, sparse, electronic thing,
with as much surplus flesh as an
angle-poise lamp. Ted intones
over a backbone beat in a voice of
exaggerated, but clear, diction,
and the whole thing is fascinating;
notwithstanding, it bears no
resemblance to Blurt.
Is this single a deliberate
attempt to avoid the style of Blurt?
"No," he drawls - Ted drawls
in a manner that would make Noel
Coward sound like a racing
commentator - "It was just a
desire to do something like that".
"Blurt recordings have always
been son et verité, no studio
techniques involved at all ...
snapshot. Basically, it was the
first time I used a studio."
For a man whom we had
ignorantly supposed to be a
doyen of raw and nasty punk rock
noise, and therefore perhaps a
supporter of some DIY ethic, Ted
is well fond of the fab time one can
have in a studio. Luckily, the
temptation to play with all the
buttons was dampened by the
point of 'Violence';Ted and
producer Steve Beresford set out
to make a deliberately simple
record, and thus we are spared
awful bonking noises and clever
bits. Ted is still keen to emphasis
the importance of the studio.
"It makes the simplicity more
powerful; it could never have
been done without the
technology."
I wonder if Ted has ever wanted
to make a nice conventional
records.
"I may get to be extremely
orthodox by and by."
Do you think that's likely?
"No"
As he spills coffee down his
sleeve, we started talking about
lyrics. 'Love Is Like A Violence'
contains a series of dazingly odd
phrases; it's a poem. The B-side,
'It's Only Lately That Stalins Have
Begun To Roost' - and who
could argue with such a little - is
more of a collage. But first to
'Violence'. What it, I enquire
about, Ted?
"I thought it was pretty goddam
straightforward ...", he says,
bemused. He allows for
ignorance, and adds, "well; in
your own words, you tellme what
you think it's about, and I'll tell you
whether I think you're a complete
idiot or not."
I hazard an interpretation. The
ending of romantic love via the
intrusion of reality,
disillusionment, disappointment?
How many marks do I get for that?
"C plus ... Isuppose that
comes into it. I'd rather not say
anything about it really."
Ted, who described himself at
one point as "the minor Milton", is
a poet. Some of his work ends up
in books, some in songs. Parts of
'Stalins' are short poems, or
extracts from poems; parts are
also found lines, form ads or the
radio. "A great dog deserve
a great dog food" intones Ted. "go
through doors when they open".
"I can see lots of opportunities
that I've failed to take,doors have
opened and I've not gone through
them - maybe that's a good thing
that I've not gone through; and
there was a radio ad, which said a
great dog deserved a great dog
food. And I thought the two ... a
great dog deserves a great dog
food, so fuck you! It's like, so that
is success."
Ted Milton says he's not averse
to wads of money. He says he
used to shout his lyrics for fear of
being mistaken for a singer. And
he makes very odd, very
interesting records. Why not treat
yourself to one right now?
© 1985 David Quantick/New Musical Express
reprinted with permission by DQ
Record Label: Salamander Records
Type of Label: None
