Images kindly donated by Barney historians R&M.

The colors in the progressives were borrowed from the Victorian era original copy of the Encyclopedia of Design and Decoration, 1885 or so, that I have mentioned before. Barney re-ownershipped the book when it was decomissioned from Twickenham art school use, and regularly used the multiplicity of extraordinary color combinations shewn therein in his works. The color-combination for the first Hawkwind poster was from a Moorish fabric design. The book was printed in something like 32 self-colors, some of which I’m sure were vegetable derived. The book is now worth a lot in the original printing.

Progressive print stages of Barney Bubbles Hawkwind poster. 1970s.

Progressive print stages of Barney Bubbles Hawkwind poster. 1970s.

Progressive print stages of Barney Bubbles Elvis Costello poster. 1980s.

All “Shepard who”? He’s the Obey Giant guy; Barrack Obama’s Hope street artist of choice.

Show is at The Stolen Space Gallery, The Old Truman Brewery, Off Brick Lane, London E1. Closes on November 4th.

TV Smith: “I had no problem with Stiff Records, even when I thought I was being done over. I could see the point of it, for example, the cover of One Chord Wonders. They put Barney Bubbles onto designing the cover, then when we got invited into Stiff to see what he’d done, well, I felt like I’d been stiffed. But, what can you say, it was a brilliant cover. They created an icon out of Gaye and they put The Adverts firmly in punk rock history. There was no question that that cover – which I would definitely not have agreed to – was a massive step forward for the band.”

Cover of The Adverts’ ‘One Chord Wonders’, by Barney Bubbles, photography Phil Franks.

Photo of Barney Bubbles from ‘The Adverts’ documentary.

Watch the whole documentary HERE, fast forward to 11.50 for the Barney Bubbles bit.

(Info provided by Barney Xpurtz R&M)

Pictured here below is a sleeve Barney (born Colin Fulcher) designed for former Damned punk band member Brian James in 1978. Marvel at the dextrous flicking of Barney’s favourite ink-laden toothbrush across carefully cut masks. R&M tell me that as well as creating the entire front illustration, the design of the front, back and label design is all Barney’s handiwork. They also point out to me the design of the record company name on the label (BJ Records) uses the spindle hole to not only hold the record in place, but also provide the ‘O’ of ‘RECORDS’ and the dot of the letter ‘j’; a typical economy of means.

Want to know what the track sounds like? Listen here:

And maybe check this blog entry where Brian talks a little about another sleeve designed by Barney, and muses on his personal dislike of folks like Malcolm McLaren.

Classic Barney Bubbles Stiff Records “If it ain’t STIFF, it ain’t worth a fuck” t-shirt.

This t-shirt illustrates nicely the music hall/vaudeville aspect of Colin Fulcher/Barney Bubbles’ work and is probably influenced, if not actually composed or passed on by his dad, who was a working class man of the people sort of bloke. Dad had a fairly extensive mental joke book. He was a fan of Max Miller the radio joker who was banned from the BBC for 5 years for telling a bawdy tale of which Lord Reith (founder and director of the BBC) did not approve. Goes like this, ” I was walking along a narrow mountain pass, so narrow that nobody else could pass you, when I saw a blonde walking towards me. A beautiful blonde without a stitch on, yes lady, not a stitch. Cor blimey. I didn’t know whether to toss myself off or block her passage. “

There is some confusion as to whether it was a Max Wall or a Max Miller joke, but I’m fairly certain it was Miller. Don’t matter either way, Mr. Fulcher, a News Of The World sort of man, liked ‘em both. I can remember the day in 1962 when Barney showed me his Paolotzi lookalikes standing in the entry to their house on Tranmere road, and ol’d man Fulcher telling that very same joke along with the story as how Miller got banned by the Beeb.

(I got my copy of this t-shirt in ’83 when I swapped with Barney for my T-shirt celebration of the repeat integers date 7 7 77.)

Note to readers unfamiliar with colloquial English, “Cor blimey” is a cant phrase derived from the medieval curse “God blind me if I tell a lie.”

It is amusing that until recently there was no Googlable picture of this t-shirt except for an inferior Bowdlerized knock off.

.. And here ladies and gints, is the song itself, which seems to imply carnal love of a horse, nabbed from the Wikki entry for ‘Barney Google’, who was the eponymous character from the strip cartoon out of Chicago begun in 1911:

Top: Illustration by Barney Bubbles (one of a series) Bottom: Magazine logo by Barney Bubbles.

Unveiled above are a couple crackin’ lightning designs by Barney Bubbles, the top one is from a series of illustrations, and the other a magazine logo, both dating from around the mid-1970s. ‘Tis true Barney was a real force of nature, so the adept use of lightning bolts is not unsurprising. More words to be added to this lighting post very soon ’bout me and my times with Barney, and ’bout nature and tempestuousness.

Yah. Barney didn’t like working with Let it Rock. And Let-it-Rock didn’t like me… Let it Rock was in next building but one to where I lived (in) on Long Acre, Willsdon Mansions, I did a couple of pictures for ‘em and they tried to steal my art, so I left for America and San Francisco. My art was stolen by some writer who had ‘em screwed to the wall in the corridor on Long Acre. I walked in the front door and got the George Harrison art unscrewed from the wall when I did some graphics for  ’em.  

But the painting of  Pete Towshend in the pin-ball alley on Charing Cross Road with Meha Baba I couldn’t unscrew. I had to dash when I heard footsteps and scarpa back down to the elevator shaft, which I knew in detail from the days when it was Odhams Press.

(I had recomended the typesetters there for use as a bizarre film set to a lady friend of my roomate Graham Norton, who was scouting situations for a movie company, also included was the Curious garret on Wardour Street, and the entrance my dad’s office at the Air Ministry Office).

Back to the tale, down I went an old brown back corridor, out a back door, climb up the fire scape iron ladder onto the roof,  across the new tar coating on the Welsh slate tiles, to the lead sheet intercourse, up over the brick parapet, my art held under my arm – and I get back into my place at Willsdon Mansions through the window above the potato merchants.

(Hear the song by Pamela Poland, “Remembering all the days we spent in [or is it 'at'?] Willsdon Manor.”)