Mrs. Murdoc's story of how the Gorillaz began

Murdoc Niccals sighed as he plonked himself down on the chair in the back of his Winnebago in Stoke-on-Trent. He poured himself a glass of vodka and swigged it down, shuddering as it hit his stomach. He sighed again as he reclined in the chair, he'd had a hard day and all he wanted to do was sleep. Murdoc must have drifted off because the next thing he knew was that he was dreaming. He dreamt that he was an old man dying in that very chair with family members surrounding him and crying. The dream shocked him and he sprung up from his chair almost crashing into a table. He gasped and looked around the room, he saw no-one crying over his dying body, but what he did see frightened him more than a dream ever could. What he saw was a man in his 30's living in a motor home and making absolutely nothing of his life. This thought depressed him a little, so he took his anger out of the nearest thing to him, the kitchen surface. He punched it; everything on the surface fell onto the floor. Used ashtrays, cigarette butts, empty food packets, and porn magazines were now strewn across the lino. This didn't matter to him at the moment though, other than being in excruciating pain from hitting the wooden surface, he was also concerned with the way his life was going. He glanced round, and couldn't help noticing the bass guitar leaning up against his bed. A warm feeling rushed into his stomach; there were two things in his life at the moment that could do that to him, one, making love to a bunch of big busted page three girls and two, playing his guitar. Since he didn't have any page three lovers hidden in his wardrobe on that particular day, he picked up the guitar and plucked the string carefully. Watching it vibrate gave him an idea, and idea that would stop him dying alone and bored in his Winnebago, he could follow his life's dream with this guitar, he would make a band!
Going back a few years, and over the sea a few miles, we set our story in the depths of New York City. It was a normal evening, the busy bustle of the rush hour took over the streets, lights flashed and there was a general buzz about the place, everyone was going somewhere or doing something, except for one young man. Russel lay in his bed, not really doing anything at all. It wasn't his fault that he was spending a Friday night being boring and staying in his bed; the fact of the matter was he was possessed. Not doing much seemed to be a trait of his recently; his family wondered if he was ever going to get better, he had so much going for him. Russel was a fantastic musician, better than most actually but he was polite and modest so he disagreed if anyone said it to him. To look at Russ from afar, you'd think he was asleep but close up you'd realise that his eyes were wide open. Wide open and white, totally white. I guess that's what happens when you get possessed for a long period of time.

Downstairs, his family were getting fed up with it; his father was rooting through the yellow pages (or the equivalent to that in New York terms,) and giving himself many paper cuts as he was doing so. He suddenly stopped and said to his wife,
"Look honey, look! I've found it!" he flung the phone book under his wife's nose. His wife sighed at her husband's enthusiasm and said,
"Found what dear?" she had got used to the fact her son had now been taken over by a demon. Her husband didn't notice her face and carried on,
"I've found the answer to our troubles, look." He pointed to a particular page in the book. His wife read it, frowned then looked up,
"Exorcism-are-us?" she read allowed "Are you really sure this is necessary?" her husband pulled the book back and replied, almost hurt,
"We've tried everything else, and I want my son back" He gave her one last look and strolled into the next room to phone the exorcist.
Skipping forward to the present day, Russ had had his exorcism and was free from the demon's possession. Between that time and the present, Russ had been possessed again though, but this time but an old school friend who had been shot. This guys name was Del, a fantastic rapper, he didn't tell Russ what to do, just popped in and out of his brain for rapping sessions. After all of this commotion, Russ's parents, decided they wanted their son to grow up in the quiet life, they moved to Britain.
After finally realising what he wanted to do with his life, Murdoc had a plan. It wasn't an overly detailed plan mind you, but a plan none the less. The general idea was;

Murdoc's List

1. Make my band and take the credit for it
2. Make a single with my own lyrics and take the credit for it
3. Become really famous and sleep with great looking women
4. Have lots of money
5. Make an album to take the credit for it
6. Sleep with more women
7. Have even more money and fame

So, Murdoc had a plan, but first he needed to complete the first item on the list, make the actual band. Murdoc didn't really have a clue how he was going to get good enough people to be in his band. So, he thought that while he was thinking about it, he might as well go down the pub. On his way, Murdoc spotted a tramp lying on the ground playing one of those mini-keyboard things begging for money. He was playing it badly on course so that people would pay him to shut up, Murdoc's first thought was saying,
"Get a job you retard and stop skiving off other people's hard earned cash" but his second thought was that although this sad tramp wasn't good enough to be in his band, he'd given Murdoc an idea, you can't have a good band without good instruments. So, Murdoc added 'getting instruments' onto his list. How he was going to afford the instruments was another story, so he put off going to the pub for once in his life that day to save his cash. He walked the long way back home, so long even he didn't recognise the area for a while, he was in another part of town that he didn't visit often, not that he didn't like it, just that there was nothing there to bother him, no strip clubs. He wandered through the high street, all the shops had closed by now but some lights were still on. One shop in particular caught his eye. 'Uncle Norm's Organ Emporium' it had a huge glass front and he looked inside at the hundred of synths, keyboards and organs in the shop front. Dazed at the sheer amount, he almost didn't notice the two men standing behind the counter talking to one another. Murdoc being the nosy git that he is, listened to the conversation through the glass. One of the men was probably in his 50's; he had a balding head a sad dress sense. He seemed to be shouting at the younger one, he was in his early 20's, didn't look too bright, had enough hair to share with the older man and a great dress sense! The younger one also suspiciously looked rather like Damon Albarn from the group Blur, but Murdoc didn't notice this. Murdoc assumed that the way, he was going off at the younger guy; the older one was in fact 'Uncle Norm.' He bawled at the younger guy covering him in spittle,
" I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU'RE DOING, MAKE SURE YOU'RE HERE TOMORROW!"
"But sir…"
"DON'T YOU DARE 'BUT' ME! I WON'T BE HERE TOMORROW SO IF THERE'S ANY 'FUNNY BUISNESS' YOU'RE FIRED!"
"I know but…"
"IS THAT CLEAR BOY?"
" Err…yeah"
Outside Murdoc was listing intently, he'd taken immediate offence to the young guy, he hated people that didn't stand up for themselves. In between eavesdropping, Murdoc was hatching yet another plan, you could practically see the cogs working under the mass of black hair on his head. He grinned; obviously he'd got his idea. Uncle Norm was walking towards the door; Murdoc scooted into the alleyway next to the store to hide in the shadows, not wanting to be seen. Uncle Norm passed the alleyway and Murdoc could resist saying in his most sinister voice,
"Evening" Uncle Norm practically jumped out of his skin and ran away as fast as his legs would carry him. Murdoc laughed an evil laugh and stepped out of the shadows to see what the other guy was doing. Murdoc would have bet good money that he would be crying, but he was wrong, they guy was doing some thing equally sad, dusting keyboards! Murdoc watched him for a while but then walked away. Glad that he had walked that way home, Murdoc smiled just thinking about his up-coming plans.

The next morning Murdoc awoke at the earliest he had in many years, 10:00am. He sighed and opened the curtains, and then remembering what he'd planned to do today, he grinned an evil grin.
Later, at the Organ Emporium, the young lad, whose name was Stu-Pot, had been there since dawn, just as his boss had said the day before. There was no one in the shop as usual so Stu was playing the keyboard in the front of the store. Meanwhile, Murdoc was driving to the Emporium in his Vauxhall Astra, well, at least what could pass for driving, I'd call it going 90 mph down the back streets of the town but that's not the point. Finally, Murdoc reached the shop; Stu-Pot was dithering around trying to think of something to occupy himself. Murdie lined up his car and took a deep breath, not noticing Stu; he revved up the engine and sped towards the glass shop front. Moments later, he crashed through the window hitting numerous keyboards and unfortunately Stu-Pot himself! Murdoc swore and got out of the car. He'd only meant to get in a steal a synth or two, not kill anyone. He looked down at the unconscious Stu who was sprawled out on the floor in a pool of blood. He swore again as he heard the oh-so familiar sound of police sirens in the distance.

A month later, most of Murdoc's plans of fame and world domination had been put on hold for a while. He had been taken to court and sentenced to community service and the ultimate punishment was that he had to look after the now cabbage-like Stu-Pot, who had now been fired. Murdoc grew to hate Stu even more than before and failed miserably every time he tried to 'bump him off.'
After weeks of practically suicidal living with Stu, Murdoc began to wonder if he'd ever make it in the musical world. All he had at the moment was his self taught bass skills and a half-wit keyboarder in a social coma. Fame was getting further away from Murdoc's clutch and he hated he, he felt like Stu was dragging him down so he took one last desperate measure to try and get rid of Stu-Pot once and for all.
A few days later, Murdoc plonked Stu in the passenger seat, then got in the car himself and only fastened his own seat belt. Driving to the local Tesco's supermarket, which was actually empty for once strangely enough.
"Right then" Murdoc said, lining his car up once more, he revved it up again and floored the pedal, the car shot forward and, with fantastic driving skills on Murdoc's part, the car spun around and around. Suddenly, Murdoc braked, had he not have braked, both men would have ended up in a major trolley fiasco! Anyway, as the car screeched to a halt, Stu-Pot shot out of the front window and after spraying Murdoc with glass, he hit his head off the car park tarmac and then there was silence. Murdoc's car engine stuttered and then died. Murdoc got out of the car, looked at a twisted Stu on the floor and said sarcastically,
"Oops" then after checking that no one was around he laughed his characteristic evil laugh. Murdoc turned to walk away smiling, he hadn't got halfway across the car park when he heard a voice calling after him. He spun around wondering who it was; he almost died of shock when he found out. It was Stu-Pot!
"Aghhhhh!" Murdoc screamed, "Why won't you just die?" Stu was ignoring him and walking towards him smiling, he opened his mouth and said;
"You…you saved my life, how can I thank you?" Murdoc was shocked, and for the first time in his life, speechless. He was so shocked for two reasons, one being the most obvious, that the guy Murdoc had just tried to kill, had just stood up from a long coma and spoken to him for the first time. The second reason was the Stu had the most amazing voice, Murdoc was almost thankful he hadn't killed him. Murdoc ignored Stu-Pot and realised that he'd just found the singer for his band!

Later that day, after Stu had been briefed on the happenings of the past few months in his coma, the two men were sitting at the table of Murdoc's Winnebago discussing Murdoc's band. Getting bored of the new and improved Stu-Pot's company, Murdoc opened the evening paper and began to read leaving Stu to his own devices. Stu just sat awkwardly on the chair watching Murdoc's every move he didn't say a word. Murdoc must have sensed Stu looking at him because he threw his newspaper down and growled,
"What? What the hell's the matter?" Stu jumped and almost falling off the chair, he looked at Murdoc with terror in his eyes,
"Nothing" he replied with his sexy voice, Murdoc glared at him, "I just, have a migraine." Murdoc rolled his eyes at Stu and went back to his newspaper, without looking up, he replied
"Headaches are for women" and continued reading.
The next day, Murdoc woke up before Stu, he didn't remember falling to sleep last night, he couldn't remember much at all, only that he had a hangover. He'd even forgotten about Stu-Pot's awakening, so when he found he had to step over the sleeping Stu to get to his own kitchen he was overcome with bitterness for the world as per usual. Murdoc characteristically didn't bother to wake him up; the precious moments without Stu were the only thing keeping him going at the moment, that and the thought of his band. Murdoc thought about this as he made a cup of coffee, then almost dropping the mug, he remembered something that he had read in the paper the previous night. He stumbled across the room tripping over Stu and grabbed his paper. He had to root around a bit before finding what he wanted but when he did, the page glowed like gold, he tore out an article and read a bit of it out loud to Stu who was now lying blearily on the floor after being tripped over. Murdoc read;

"Talented young American drummer wins contest after only a few weeks in the UK. Russel Nolastname won a musical competition, with his fantastic drumming abilities. But also impressed the judges by stories of him being possessed by a New York rapper, who died in a shooting."

Stu heaved himself up onto a chair and yawned sleepily. Murdoc stopped looking at the article to frown at him,
"Am I boring you?" he asked sarcastically and kicked the kitchen chair from under him causing Stu-Pot to fall back down on the floor, not waiting to see if Stu would reply or not, he continued speaking.
"I think we've found our drummer," he said to Stu, who was now rubbing his bruises. " And a good one at that."

Later that day, Murdoc and Stu set out to find Russel, during the car journey, they talked about the 'image' of the band, well, should I say Murdoc talked about the image he wanted for his band and Stu-Pot, who still had a headache, listened. This brought up the subject of Stu's name, Murdoc complained that it didn't really put across the right image, he didn't say it as nice as that though, he swore a few thousand times and said it was a damn stupid name.
"I can't help my name, Murdoc" Said Stu, trying to stick up for himself but not doing a very good job. Murdoc just sighed, it was a sigh of pity, he hadn't met many people before Stu that could be so stupid. He looked at Stu out of the corner of his eye; Stu was rubbing his throbbing head. As painful as it was for Murdoc to be sympathetic, he had to take care of his band so he asked,
"Is your stupid head still hurting?" Stu nodded but stopped rubbing.
"I suppose it's because you've got dents in it now from my car" Murdoc suggested. "I should call you 'two dents' from now on" he continued, then he screeched to a halt, if Stu hadn't have been strapped in this time, it would have been the Tesco's car park fiasco all over again. Murdoc thought, then said,
"How 'bout it dullard, can I call you 'two dents' from now on?"
"You mean 2-D for short?" asked Stu innocently, not quite wondering where the conversation was leading. Murdoc looked astonished,
"Y'know, that's the most sensible thing you've said since I've know you," then he thought again "Hmmmmm, 2-D, I like it, it matches your two dimensional personality!"
Finally they reached the area in which Russ was supposed to live. They had been to the newspaper office and demanded to know where he lived, the newspaper was reluctant to tell them at first, Murdoc threatened them, and 2-D asked nicely. The scared journalists advised them on where to find the drummer before running away from Murdoc's evil stare. Anyway, they went to Russ's house but apparently he wasn't in; they tracked him into down where they finally round him in a record store sifting through various rap records. You couldn't really miss him, Russel was no small guy, he was they kind of person who could crush Murdoc in a second had he got on the wrong side of him. Russel wouldn't do that though, he was a sweetie, wouldn't harm a fly. Murdoc walked over to him, he was almost glad that he had 2-D around for moral support.
" Hi there," Murdoc said, Russ turned to look at him, smiled and greeted him back, his voice was so American it made every woman knees in the shop go weak. Murdoc stared into Russel's white eyes and continued,
"I'm Murdoc, and the cretin standing next to me is 2-D"
"Right" Russ said, wondering if Murdoc was getting to a point or not. Murdoc saw the impatience in Russel's face so he carried on.
"We've heard about your skills and…um…I wondered if maybe…um…we could possibly work together." Murdoc couldn't help noticing 2-D falling into a display of CD's. Russel looked at him too, and wasn't really interested in what Murdoc had to say,
"How do you mean?" Russel asked, Murdoc's gazed lifted off 2-D and looked back into the white eyes of Russ,
"What I meant to say was that I'm forming a band, and you seem to be what I'm looking for" Murdoc stopped "percussion wise" he added. Russel laughed, he was still looking at 2-D having trouble stacking the CD's back up, Russel had obviously heard Murdoc because he nodded politely but said to 2-D,
"Here, let me help you." Russ walked away from Murdoc, leaving him standing alone in the rap section. 2-D looked at Russel and asked,
"So, are you going to be in our band then?" Russel looked at him, then back over his shoulder to a disgruntled Murdoc before agreeing to be their drummer.

Murdoc was delighted that evening, he couldn't remember feeling so happy, bitter, but never happy. They were all packed inside his Winnebago talking, but Murdoc couldn't stop thinking that with Russ on their team, he'd be rich in no time. Russ seemed to know a lot about the general running of things such as this, so Murdoc left him to do all the planning for the next few weeks.
"So," Russ started "we have a bass, a drummer, a keyboard/singer, do we have a lead guitar Murdoc?" Murdoc shook his head, took a swig of vodka and lit a cigarette. He wasn't really paying attention, he was thinking about how many lovely looking women he'd get to sleep with very soon. 2-D was clearing up the junk on the table, old newspapers, porn magazines and screwed up sheets of paper with possible lyrics on them fell onto the floor. Murdoc simply kicked 2-D in the shin and carried on thinking. One of the magazines that were now on the floor was last month's edition of 'NME' magazine; Russel picked it up and pondered it for a second before saying,
"Hey Murdoc, we really do need a lead guitarist, why don't we put an ad in this magazine?" Murdoc raised his eyebrows, got a pen and a piece of paper and they began scribbling.

Wanted: Male or female lead guitarist for full time work in an upcoming band, preferably someone who can play the guitar. If interested, call Murdoc on - 666 6666.

They three men address an envelope and sent it off the very next day.
They day the edition was due to come out, Russ woke up very early to collect his copy, he set off the Murdoc's to wait for the phone call to put a start to all three of their careers. All three of them waited…and waited…and waited, but when you're waiting for a phone call, you don't even get those annoying telemarketers trying to sell you windows. 2-D kept checking the phone wire to make sure it was plugged in, it was. Just as they were going to give up for the day, there was a knock at the door. Murdoc sighed and opened it,
"Jehovah's Witnesses probably" said Murdoc and flung the door open much to the surprise of a frightened Fed-Ex courier.
"A…are you Mr. Murdoc…N…Niccals?" asked the Fed-Ex man,
"Yeah?" He replied
"Sign on the dotted line please" the Fed-Ex employee held out a clip bored and Murdoc signed, Russ was looking over his shoulder and after the man had left, helped Murdoc lug a big brown box into the Winnebago.
"Ooh, what's that?" asked 2-D inquisitively.
"I dunno moron, open it and find out." Murdoc answered. Russ rooted through Murdoc's kitchen draw to find some sort of knife or spoon handle to prize the nails out and open the wooden box, as he was doing this, Murdoc and 2-D were looking at he Japanese writing on the side of it. 2-D knocked on the side of the box accidentally with his foot, to both of their surprise, the box knocked back, 2-D jumped and Murdoc knocked again with his fist, again the box knocked back.

Russel eventually came back to them with a blunt knife and began to prize the nails out. The lid didn't come off very easily so the three men were pulling it but it wouldn't budge, suddenly whatever was inside burst out of the box with an almighty flying kick! Almost hitting poor 2-D in the face, the thing flew through the air and landed with a bounce on the other side of the room. The boys looked shocked, no one said a word. They just looked at each other; the thing that had jumped out seemed to be a young Japanese girl, she reached into the box and picked up a few sheets of official looking papers in one hand and a guitar in the other.

Gobsmacked, Russel introduced them all to the girl, and then asked who the hell she was. The girl raised one eyebrow as if she didn't understand and held out her papers. Murdoc took them and went to read before realising that it was written in Japanese! He sighed and passed it to Russel who looked just as bewildered as 2-D. Russel scouted through the papers and the last sheet was from the NME magazine saying that they had sent the new lead guitarist for their band and that all her papers were in order. That was it. Murdoc speculated that the girl only looked about ten and couldn't possibly have the years of experience that they were looking for in a guitarist. On this note, the girl began to play and admittedly it was much better than Murdoc had imagined…in fact it was much better than Murdoc himself! Russel looked at the others then to the girl and asked,
"Who…are…you" he made funny hand gesture in an attempt to make the girl understand him, she just giggle and said something incomprehensive in Japanese. 2-D looked even more confused than usual and rubbed his temples as if he was getting another headache.
"What the…?" Murdoc said, "I didn't understand a word of that"
"I did," said Russ, "I understood one word…Noodle."
"Noodle?" said 2-D and Murdoc in unison
"Noodle" said the girl and smiled.
Murdoc lay awake that night thinking about his band, he was glad that it was finally sorted but couldn't help thinking about the oddness of each individual member, he had a half witted keyboard geek called 2-D, who was quite possibly gay and had hair like a hibernating blue hedgehog was sunbathing on his head. He had a drummer who was apparently possessed by a rapper who he had not yet encountered; thankfully, the drummer had an ounce of talent, because he was their safety net. He had a lead guitarist that was ten years of age and had been nicknamed 'Noodle' after her ability to speak only one word of English…Noodle! Of course Murdoc himself wasn't an oddity, Murdoc was a perfectly normal, sick minded, sex crazed, bass playing Satanist who used to set fire to cats. But then who isn't? As Murdoc was drifting off to sleep, he realised that he had completed the first part of his list. The next thing was to get signed and become famous. As he was thinking of world domination, he fell asleep.
The guys woke up bright and early the next morning to get practicing, astonishingly the band worked quite well together, unlike most newly formed bands, I guess it was destined to be. Other than a few conflicts between Murdoc and 2-D (Murdoc kept asking him to be a him sacrifice), the day went well. Noodle; as they had now called her, new everything there was to know about guitars and how to play them, 2-D was convinced she had invented them. Anyway, during some of their regular practise sessions, the other band members met Russ's good friend and personal mentor, Del. He was all the rapper that he had been when alive and then some! They decided to incorporate his rap skills into their tunes. Everything seemed to be going right for once in Murdoc's life, and astonishingly, he was being happy for once in his life. They had sent tapes to various record companies, but had had no replies yet, Murdoc decided to take maters into his own hands and get the band a gig. He spent an entire day going round pubs and clubs asking for a chance to play, the closest he got was being offered a karaoke hour on OAP's night at a pub not too far away. Murdoc's good mood had gone away by now and he was back to his usual 2-D thumping, bitter self.
*
One morning, towards the middle of December, 2-D came back with good news, he had been speaking to a friend of his and he seemed to think that he could get them a place to play a gig for a night. Russ and Noodle seemed happy but Murdoc was bitterer, bitter because dim witted 2-D could get them a gig but he couldn't, Murdoc was also jealous because 2-D attracted hundreds of adoring females, whereas Murdoc hadn't had much luck in that department since he had met 2-D. Anyway, a date was set for the gig and as it got closer the band was practicing harder and harder. So hard in fact, they forgot to come up with a name!
On the day of the gig there was a mad sense of panic among the group, 2-D was taking tranquillisers for his blinding migraine, Russ was eating, Murdoc was off worshipping Satan somewhere and Noodle was…well…Noodle was practicing martial arts and high-kicking things. So it was a basically normal day. The gig loomed closer and the band got more and more exited, it wasn't exactly going to be a sell out but first gigs never are. Finally it got started, the band still had no name so just referred to themselves as 'The Band'! They got off to a good start but after a while the audience lost interest and turned to the bar, the entire audience got totally drunk and numerous fights broke out, the band kept playing, each song better than the last but no-one seemed to be listening.
Many people left after the fights had ended, so the band stopped playing and began to clear their instruments away; Murdoc couldn't help but swear and curse the audience wishing that they'd all burn in hell, but nothing else much was said about their failure of their first gig. As they were packing up a man came up to them,
"Whose is this band?" he asked 2-D who was sitting on the edge of the stage smoking. 2-D pointed to Murdoc and the man turned his attention to him,
"Hey, you there, does this band belong to you?" he asked again. Murdoc looked at him, an evil glint in his eye,
"Who's asking?"
"I'm from a very reputable record company," the man said showing Murdoc his card. Murdoc couldn't dive over to the man quick enough, he almost fell over but grabbed the man's hand a shook it warmly.
"Yes, this is my band!" Murdoc said, not loosening his grip on the mans hand.
"Well, I think we can come to some sort of an arrangement, with your potential and my ideas, I think we'll go far." Said the man trying to pull his hand out. Murdoc let go, but only because he was about to faint. 2-D was also listening to the conversation along with the others and said stupidly,
"What are you trying to say?" Murdoc looked at the man and then at 2-D,
"Don't you understand you dumb ape? This man wants to sign us to his record label!" Murdoc was getting ecstatic and shaking 2-D vigorously. Pictures of fame, money and naked women were now flashing before Murdoc's eyes!
"What do you call the band?" asked the man, snapping Murdoc out of his fantasies, Murdoc looked blankly at the others who looked equally blankly back and shrugged at the man.
"Well, we'll work on it eh? I have fantastic plans for you guys" the man went on. But Murdoc had gone into a fantasy again, he didn't care, he was going to be rich!
So, that's how the 'Gorillaz' came to be, well, the first part anyway, but you know what they say in showbiz, the rest is history…

To be continued…?

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