The Mad Mad Daddy

Certain people from your past, who you've never met and would be kind of terrified if you ever got the chance to, will always be important for the vital role they played in firing your imagination or showing you crazy fantasy worlds that you would never have otherwise conceived of.

One such person, for me, is Lux Interior of the fabulous Cramps. He and his flawless accomplice Poison Ivy have been up near the top of my idol list for almost 3 decades, and I was heartbroken to learn of his passing this morning.

The first time I saw The Cramps was in 1981 at the Royal Court Theatre in Liverpool when I was a wide-eyed 16-year-old. Back then I was naff enough to turn up at a venue before the doors had even opened, but such youthful naïveté brought its own reward on this occasion as, while myself and my friend Alison were standing in line, the band turned up in a taxi and we saw them disappear through the stage door.

I vaguely remember seeing Lux and Kid Congo, but I must admit I was focusing most on Ivy who was looking suitably disinterested and aloof. I was horribly impressed and think it might have been at that precise moment that I decided on a future career as a red head.

Once inside the hall we rushed immediately to the front row, as the upside of teenage enthusiasm is you can withstand the crush, and the wait, and the discomfort of the crowd just to get a good view of your idols. We might not have been quite so keen if we'd realised that the support act was The Meteors. This was a rockabilly band that had a really weird fan base - they would "chicken" dance throughout the set and rip at each others’ faces with their finger nails. Determined not to lose my prime spot, I was coping with the slam dancing, but when somebody nearby suddenly started clawing away at my cheeks, I took fear and fled.

Furious and trembling at the back of the room, I was tearful I might not get my deserved eyeful of Lux and Ivy, but thankfully once the Meteors set had ended their triumphant fans gathered at the bar to compare scars and praise each others’ bruises, for all I know they might have even scampered off home in search of plasters and Dettol, but we were able to forge our way back to the front and reclaim our viewing area.

The finer details of the show have been lost with time, but I do remember a specific incident. Lux had jumped down into the orchestra pit and was taking a good look at the punters. Singing Under the Wires with its line, “I'll let my fingers do the walking", he grabbed gently hold of my little teenage tit and I was unsure what to do. I looked over the other side of the stage at Ivy and she curled her nose in disdain and sneered at me, I can barely think of a happier moment. I spent about the next two hours excitedly repeating, "Ivy sneered at me," and received much admiration.

I'm not sure how many times I have seen the band in total, but I've certainly been to at least one date from every UK tour since the early eighties. I’ve seen Lux’s cock more times than I care to mention, have seen him pour wine over himself, climb up speaker stacks in high heeled shoes, swallow microphones, lie on the floor twitching ... have heard him scream, shout and make chicken noises. And I’ve loved every single damn minute.

I had another personal encounter in ‘89 when they did a signing session at the Virgin Megastore on Oxford Street. It was for the release of the Stay Sick album and I stood in line for about 2 hours with this girl I went to college with, Katie. We were finally ushered forward and there I was – face to face with Lux and Ivy!

I gave Ivy my name which she duly noted and scrawled it onto my cassette sleeve along with her signature. No words of greeting were offered but I wasn't bothered. The trademark surly demeanour was perfect and I probably would have wet my pants if she'd spoken. Lux was a little friendlier but the only one who was really chatty was their super-sexy bass player, Candy Del Mar. Drummer, Nick Knox looked like he'd rather be anywhere than sat there signing our records. Ha!

The last show I saw was in 2006 at the Astoria (now also laid to rest). By this time Lux was 60 so his performance was slightly less flamboyant than the 80s, but there was still the wine, the skin-tight pants and the screeching, and he still had the crowd in raptures.

Only the other day I was searching for news of their current happenings and hoping some new dates might be on the horizon. Some people just seem like they should go on forever.

I’ll miss you, Lux.