My Beautiful Friend Kirk Field
of the band Delicious Poison
I.
In an interview with Urban Rebel PR to promote his entertaining 2023 memoir, Rave New World, Kirk Field reflects on his failed attempt to find '80s pop stardom with the wistful fatalism of a man who almost caught the bus:
'My band Delicious Poison played The Marquee, supported some big bands and played over 100 shows, but it wasn't meant to be ...'
As someone who was a friend of Mr. Field's during this period, I would like to share a few observations recorded in diaries from the time, as well as some retrospective thoughts.
If I get a few things wrong - misremember or misinterpret events - hopefully Kirk (and other individuals mentioned in this account) will forgive me; it really was a long time ago now and I've never been anything but an unreliable narrator (even of my own life).
II.
Let me start from the beginning, just to provide a bit of context ...
I met Kirk at the beginning of October 1981, in the student bar at Trinity and All Saints College (Leeds).
My initial impression was of a flash young punk with pixie boots and a quiff, who liked to pose and play with a yo-yo. He asked if I played guitar and fancied being in a new group he was putting together, with him as frontman.
As a matter of fact, I didn't play guitar and didn't want to be in his band. But I liked him; he was smart, funny and fast-talking and although it wasn't immediately obvious we would form a close relationship - he could be irritating - that's what happened.
The first time I saw Kirk on stage was the following year at the TASC Cabaret. I was impressed by his cover of a Soft Cell number, although noted that he was - as a drama student - more of an actor than a singer; one who couldn't quite carry a tune, but was able to give a convincing impression of someone who can.
In other words, he was a skilled performer, rather than a virtuoso vocalist.
It wasn't until Feb 1983 that Kirk and his new band - The Hound Dogs - made their official debut. More mockabilly than an earnest punk band, they offered an entertaining mix of covers and original numbers like 'Teenage Vampire'.
One gig, in December of '83, I remember in particular as a riot of fun involving flour and water à la King Kurt and everything played at a 1000 miles per hour, including a version of 'New Rose' that even The Damned would've been proud of.
III.
In the summer of '84, Kirk and I graduated and left Leeds for London ...
Almost overnight, everything changed. It was less a smooth transition and more a violent rupture of some kind and, sadly, our friendship became increasingly strained; partly for personal reasons, partly because we were heading in very different directions, artistically and intellectually.
As I had noted in my diary a few months earlier: Kirk and I are fundamentally different. Ultimately, he's career-driven and wants to climb the ladder to pop stardom, whereas I want to knock over the ladder.
I was working as an assistant press officer (and McLaren mole) at Charisma Records [1], but wanted to escape the music business as fast as possible so I could become a full-time writer. Kirk, meanwhile, was working at GLO and being mentored as well as financially supported by Gordon Lewis [2].
Kirk had decided it was time to get serious with his musical career and so began adjusting his look and sound accordingly: no more Hound Dogging.
His new group, Delicious Poison - originally called Torpedo the Ark [3] - was intended to be the vehicle via which he would find fame and fortune and, to be fair, things looked very promising; not only did Kirk seem to be in the right place at the right time, but, in Gordon Lewis, he had serious backing. And, it should be said, some of the new songs he was writing were fantastic.
My role - inasmuch as I had a role - was to provide the band with ideas and artwork and help out with press and promotions. I had certain reservations about this but, nevertheless, agreed to collaborate at some level with Kirk's Delicious Poison project, particularly when it took a more pagan direction.
Thus, for example, I hand-painted a number of T-shirts for them to wear on stage and produced material for an official fanzine.
IV.
The band played their first gig on Sunday 9 December 1984, at the Bierkeller, in Leeds. Gordon drove up from London and seemed very pleased with what he saw. An exciting set included several new songs, such as 'New Sun Rising'.
This gig was essentially a live rehearsal for a show on the 18th of December at Le Beat Route - a seminal, subterranean nightclub located at 17 Greek Street, in Soho, London, which served as a major hub for the New Romantic subculture in the early 1980s (or, as I described it in my diary, a dark hole serving overpriced drinks to overdressed people).
Again, despite certain reservations, I agreed to introduce the band on stage. Unfortunately, despite the excellence of the show nine days earlier - and all my bullshit as MC - the performance was flat and disappointing and the year ended on a low.
V.
Throughout 1985, the band continued gigging, writing new songs, and trying to land a record deal. But I saw very little of Kirk as our paths diverged still further. The fact that he lived in Barnet and I lived in Chiswick certainly didn't help matters (literally being miles apart only reflected the fact we were figuratively miles apart also).
I did travel up to Wakefield, however, for a Delicious Poison gig on Kirk's 23rd birthday (7 June); another really good show. And I saw them as well the following month playing at a club in North London and noted in my diary (6 July) that Kirk was infinitely preferable to Bruce Springsteen, who I had been dragged to see earlier that day at Wembley.
However - and this is perhaps central to why, as Kirk says, it wasn't meant to be - they still seemed like a pretend (or simulated) rock band for some reason - cf. The Wedding Present, for example, whose first single I was helping to promote [4]. David Gedge and the boys looked and sounded and acted like an authentic group that knew exactly who their audience was and what they wanted.
Delicious Poison was never really more than a backing group for Kirk and Kirk couldn't quite decide (at this stage) who he wanted to be and to whom he wished to appeal - other than his own reflection: it was always telling, I think, that one of his favourite tracks was the Gen X hit from 1980, 'Dancing With Myself' [5].
Notes
[1] Charisma Records was a famous independent record label based above the Marquee at 90, Wardour Street, Soho.
[2] The Gordon Lewis Organisation (GLO) was founded by Gordon Lewis in 1980 and it produced some of the most famous pop videos of the period, for bands including Soft Cell, The Cure, Bananarama, and The Pretenders. Readers might be amused to know that Kirk even appeared in a video for the latter, directed by Tim Pope, dressed as a polar bear.
[3] Torpedo the Ark was a phrase borrowed from Ibsen. The band recorded a four-track demo under this name in March '84 and Kirk secured a meeting with Arista on the back of this demo on June 1st, but, sadly, nothing came of it.
Later, in November of this year, Kirk decided to change the group's name to Delicious Poison; a phrase taken from Shakespeare's Anthony and Cleopatra (Act 1, scene 5). It was intended to sound a little more seductive and less nihilistic than Torpedo the Ark. Later, the band would simply go by the name Delicious, but, for the sake of convenience, I refer to the band as Delicious Poison throughout this post.
[4] The Wedding Present's self-financed first single - 'Go Out and Get 'Em Boy!' - was released in May 1985, through their own label, Reception Records. The first pressing consisted of just 500 copies. I loved it - and, more importantly, John Peel frequently played it on his show, thereby helping establish their reputation as an exciting post-punk indie band. My involvement - which, let me stress, was minimal - came about because I knew the bass player, Keith Gregory.
[5] 'Dancing With Myself' is a track which so easily might have been a Delicious Poison number and one is almost tempted to describe Kirk as a cross between Billy Idol and Robbie Williams; the latter's sad clown persona mixing knowing irony, self-deprecation, and fluid masculinity was anticipated by Mr Field over a decade before Williams found a way to make this combination work.
The second part of this post - 'Delicious Poison: The Final Taste (1986-88)' - can be read by clicking on the link provided.
