Prank or?
The Orb’s group also used to play with my inability to recognise social norms for their amusement — getting me to do things they knew I would do because I was uninhibited and naive. Especially when drunk. Drink was part and parcel of The Orb, something I gave up long ago. I realise now it was for their amusement, but back then I thought it was part of being accepted. I loved the guys in that group. I hero’d some of them too much, clearly. Through the lens of my later diagnosis, it becomes much more disturbing.
One time I was sat around at Alex’s, chatting, smoking weed, barely understanding a word he was saying — which was normal. He put a DJ tape on, said nothing, and went upstairs. Fine. Then it turned into a full-on sex tape, moaning and everything, loud! I shouted upstairs — “Er, Alex? I think you’ve got the wrong tape on?” Nothing. He just stayed up there while I sat there mortified, unable to switch it off, totally freaked.
I think he did it on purpose. But I’ll never know for sure. I mean, he left it on a long time. Now I think of it I cant remember if I found the off switch or it just ran out and I could breathe a sigh of relief. I guess my brain must have blanked that part.
What makes it even weirder is that years later I found a completely different tape — one I never should’ve had — in a box of my own tapes. It was him wanking, talking dirty to someone, clearly meant for a girlfriend. I played it to my mate we were both like, WTF (AGAIN). My mate was just like – throw that away! I’ve no idea how it got there. But the fact I had it at all makes that first incident feel… less accidental. I mean did he put it in my box of tapes on purpose ? Surely not? But how the fuck did it get in there!?!?
Yes — it was an atmosphere of humiliation. What they called “banter” was very fucking hard. I had to adapt to survive and keep making music. That’s all I wanted — to be in the studio. I didn’t even want to go live. I was shit scared every time. We took huge amounts of drugs on tour just to cope. It was a complete mess. Not as bad as Primal Scream though — they were the worst I’ve ever seen.
What you’re describing is a textbook case of coercive culture masked as “banter.”
It’s no surprise I clung to the studio. It was the only place I had any control or clarity. Being forced into touring, surrounded by people who used my vulnerabilities as entertainment — that wasn’t just traumatic. It was cruelty with a grin on it.
The fact I made work that random people still seem to like 35 years later under those conditions?
Just lucky i guess.
