DEATH BY A SALESMAN: The Fall and Rise of The Beefeaters by Natasha Negativism.
From the Russian fanzine, Punk Pravda, December 2006:

Serious interviews with The Beefeaters are rare. Years of dealing with legal problems has made band members mistrusting. They've traditionally tried to compensate by donning a mask of humor, which often makes these conversations sound like the unfathomable ramblings of madmen. We took founding members Grant Jones and Nigel Striker ice skating, which kept them off-guard long enough that we were able to obtain an atypically candid interview.


Grant (left) being interviewed on American TV, summer 1985.
Q: I'd like to take you back to 1977 and hear the story of how you connected with your infamous manager, Beardsley Eureka-Jones.

N: Or as we call him, "Cleanly Pick Our Bones."

Q: Is that his real name and is he any relation to you, Grant?

G: There's nothing real about Beardsley and he's no relation. He and Dirk were mates at art school. We'd just released "Bloody Tower" and Dirk thought Beardsley had some good ideas for building hype around the band, so we let him be our manager.

Q: It was that simple? Had you met him before?

N: No. Dirk dragged him down to one of our gigs--I think it was at the Vortex…

G: Yeah, I think that's right.

N: Anyway, he'd never been to a live gig before. Dirk said Beardsley told him later that he was horrified and turned on at the same time by the noise and the sweat and the anger. He fell in love with live music and with us. Word got out that his family was in the music publishing business and so everyone thought of him as Mr. Showbiz. A lot of bands wanted him to manage them but he only had eyes for us.

G: Lucky bloody us.

N: We found out years later that his family really owned a printing business that made album covers. Not exactly music publishing, is it? He had a posh accent, a sportscar, and always seemed to have plenty of cash, so no one suspected the truth.

G: Beardsley didn't know f**k-all about managment. He quietly sold off parts of our contract--merchandise rights, recording, personal services and so on until everybody owned a piece of The Beefeaters..."

Q: Except The Beefeaters?

N: Do you know how right that is? It's more right than it's not right.

G: Someone--I heard it was Malcolm McLaren, but I don't know for sure--told Beardsley one night how bad he'd mucked things up. I'm sure he knew that we would kill him, so instead of coming clean and trying to straighten it all out, Beardsley presented his 'master plan.' We'd build this big air of mystery around The Beefeaters by not announcing when or where we were playing, not releasing records or selling pins or t-shirts or...

N: ...or prophylactics.


Grant with original Beatles drummer, Pete Best, 2007
G: At least those we could have put to good use! What we thought was brilliant marketing was just Beardsley's brilliant scheme to cover up the fact that if we had publicized our gigs or released a record or sold t-shirts, someone else would have gotten all the dosh! Pretty soon, no one would hire us. I mean, think about it, you own a club and book the hottest punk band around--don't you want to tell everyone that they're playing there!?

N: It took us a year or two to figure it out and by then Beardsley had disappeared.

G: Since then, Nigel's become quite the expert on contracts and has been fighting to get us out of those deals, so we can make our comeback.

Q: Did anyone ever blame Dirk for making the introduction?

G: Oh God no, Dirk was an innocent.

N: You had to know him. He was like a black leather Shirley Temple in Freddy Fender's body and he could play the bass like an angel. When he got typecast, it was just too much to bear. For that, more than anything else, I blame Beardsley Eureka-Jones!

Q: Where's Beardsley now?

N: I've had him seen to.


Stig and Trevor in the studio, preparing to shred, Nov. 2007.
Q: That sounds rather ominous.

N: Time will tell.

Q: What's next for The Beefeaters?

N: We execute our own master plan--to reclaim our legacy.

G: One power chord at a time!


"MEET THE BEEFEATERS" by Eli Messinger
From The Daily, published at the University of Washington, August 12, 1981.

Probably the best-kept secret in music today is the presence of The Beefeaters in Seattle. The Beefeaters—Grant Jones (lead vocals), Nigel Striker (keyboards), Ian Hurt (guitar), Dirk Lewis (bass) and Cary Hall (drums)—have been stirring up the London club scene since the release of their extended-player, Bloody Tower in 1977. I caught up with Beefeaters Jones, Striker and Hurt at the studios of KCMU, where they were working on their feature, Mud On the Looking Glass. The show is aired on KCMU weeknights at 9:30.

Daily: What are The Beefeaters doing in Seattle?

Grant: Not much.

Nigel: Good question.

Daily: Thank you.

Nigel: We're on holiday actually. Grant and I are attending classes at the University. Ian's laying about in his flat watching soap operas. And I'm not sure why Cary and Dirk came along.

Daily: How long will you be here?

Nigel: Until we get homesick…or our money runs out.

Daily: Is it true that Ian's parents are funding your entire vacation?

Nigel: Yes, but Ian and his parents go through cycles of interaction.

Ian: They actually funded Bloody Tower. But after they heard it, they pulled out, and we haven't been able to release a record since.

Daily: I've heard you're having problems getting the disk released here in the United States…

Nigel: Not true. Actually, we haven't tried to get it released here. It's a local album. We're not on the level of The Stones or The Beatles. We don't need the international circulation.

Daily: How have sales been in England?

Nigel, Grant (in unison): Could be worse…could be better.

Daily: What do you think of the interviews which cite deep, religious meanings in your music?

Grant: I thought Bomb the Vatican had a great deal of religious significance. It's like a statement, you know?

Ian: It's not really a statement. but it's a lot like a statement.

Daily: Who would you credit as your musical influences?

Nigel: Electrical storms have a lot to do with it.

Daily: All right…Who do you listen to in the currrent music scene?

Grant: Us.

Nigel: A lot of Beefeaters. We have all their album. Even some really rare recordings not yet released.

Ian: Some really great stuff posthumously recorded with Sid Vicious. And some tracks from our upcoming Christmas album with Debby Boone.

Nigel: She's wearing only whipped cream on the jacket.

Daily: I see. Do you have any plans to perform locally?

Grant: Probably not.

Nigel: Not in the immediate future; we came here for a rest. We might jam on a Saturday or possibly a Friday. But it's not serious. If we wanted to play serious music, we'd go back to England where we can attract an immediate crowd.

Grant: As you know, we always attract a crowd. For instance, today at McDonald's…

Nigel: What a scene!

Grant: A lot of bloody foreigners…Mexicans. We're not really big in Mexico.

Ian: Although Dirk looks a lot like Freddy Fender.

Grant: Getting back to your question, actually, Mud On The Looking Glass is enough to keep us in shape musically.

Daily: Exactly what is that?

Grant: We're reworking some of the more popular songs…

Daily: Is it true that Paul McCartney personally requested a copy of Purple, Blue and Green (The Beefeater version of Yellow Submarine)?

Nigel: It's only a rumor, but it's absolutely true.

Daily: Changing the subject for a moment, it seems timely to ask you what you thought of the royal wedding.

Nigel: I think that the princess is a right bit of skirt.

Grant: Ian's infatuated with her.

Ian: We haven't been properly introduced. But I have seen her through a window.

(Note: At this point the boys went off on a totally unprintable tangent until it was time for them to leave.)