Where do you begin ?

March 1984, Islington, London, in the bowels of the old Hope & Anchor: honing down their skills – razor sharp – in front of maybe 10 punters. But you know they're gonna make it.

January 1988, California: tuning in to MTV and every time you do, there they are with that Flintstones video. Uncanny.

February 1988, UK: choking on your cornflakes when they appear on the Wide-Awake Club as fully-fledged celebs. Children's television for Chrissake!

February 1988, London: three nights at the Town & Country Club – Messiah mania hot on the back of the 'Bikini Red' album – and, oh, yes, the hit 45, 'I Wanna Be A Flintstone'.

The Messiahs, live, the quintessential British power trio, in their element before an audience that's rabid, wired 'n' ready to lap up their every move. The full sonic blast, like having a door slammed in your face – and when they hit their energy groove, you can feel the hairs bristle on the back of your neck. Imagine a souped-up Sun Studios sound, but born out of the River Thames around Putney, rather from out of the Mississippi mud, around the Memphis bend.

The band...
Bill Carter, looking like he's just been released from Rampton on parole. Part Yul Brynner, part Wilko Johnson, part used car salesman, part Vietnam vet... a guy who's been to Hhell and back! Gunning his Fender as if his life depended on it. Sweat-beaded dome, inscrutable mirror shades, shark-skin suit / Hawaiian shirt. Once described as the 'ugliest man in rock'!

And let's not forget Chris 'n' Kenny...
Chris Thompson – musician incarnate, the human propellor, a great bass player, a fabulous slide guitarist. A man with a dark and rich past, a man who was born to rocknroll!

Kenny Harris a big hearted Godzilla, pulverizing his kit into submission, pounding his skins as methodically as a boxer puching a speed ball, tucked away in a corner frame of a promo video or album sleeve.

Do you think The SBMs could've kicked like a mule or stung like a bee without them? The most finely-tuned engine room any band could hope for. Without their telepathic empathy, Bill would've been spinning into outer space, outa control.

June 1992: they're good and gone now, called it quits in 1990, but we've got this belated live souvenir, a memento of arguably some of their best moments.

There's no exchange of pleasantries, no prelimenaries, they bust straight in with a couple from the 'Bikini Red' waxing. 'Sweet Water Pools', stuttering, venomous, lots of echo-delay on the vocals. Then they up the pace with 'Jesus Chrysler' – Kenny must have arms like tractors to maintain the blistering backbeat on this, it's fast enough to wind a whirling dervish and must have been at double the speed of the studio original... at least! Check the way Bill holds down the lead 'n' rhythm while sneaking in some great vocal improvisation at the end.

They reach back as far as the 1984 'Good & Gone' debut (Warners version) for 'Happy Home' – and it's great to see "Jerry's Electric Church' included here, liberated from the B-side of the 'Flintstones' 12-inch. As they romp into the home stretch, we're served a steaming portion from 1986's masterpiece 'Gun-Shy' and they shut it all down with the classic 'Twin Cadillac Valentine' – Carter obviously had an unhealthy obsession with American automobile culture.

And, as they disappear into the ether, you can once more relive the live excitement, smell the sweat, stale beer and cigarrette smoke, and nod your head in approval of the killer British rock band from the late Eighties. There were no competitors! About the only thing that's missing is sometime lyricist Tony Moon's projected backdrop. But you can't have everything...

So let's climb into the Bedrock car, just one more time, and head down to the twilight zone. Yes gang, it's very definitely Yabba Dabba Doo Time!

Nigel Cross