Marc and Becki of



1.  I am a mere insect travelling through sonic grasslands on the hunt for vibrating beasties.  On one such jaunt I was ensnared in a Webb and 2 acoustic arachnids dropped down and nibbled by roving receptors (dirty devils).  I was bound to the sound, there was no escape.  Whilst I am stuck I thought I best get clued in further - now is the chance, go one you naughty nibblers - reveal all!

We are two creatures born in the 1960s, We survived the 1970s,endured the 1980s,ignored the 1990s and suffered the millennium, then in 2013 span a musical web of ditties onto Soundcloud. We never planned to be a live band but were army volunteered to play a private party and enjoyed it. Facebook was bestowed on us by an early fan and gigs followed mainly on the Yorkshire electro scene, with friendly Liverpool gigs thrown in. It wasn’t til our 23rd gig, a Manchester punks for the homeless, that we discovered the punk fraternity liked what we were doing. Slots rolled in, from Blackburn Punx Picnic to Nice’n’ Sleazy.

2.  Playing as a two-piece has obvious restrictions - tell us about these and how you overcome them?  For example the saturating the soundscape, making the 'live' set convincing and defining your own sound?

Not wanting to tolerate/babysit other band members, we perform as a duo with our soundscape played and recorded by Marc then transferred onto a crappy old mobile phone. An audience gets live vocals and keyboards over the top, and we don’t give a crumpled, empty crisps packet if anyone deems this cheating. We witnessed a host of electro bands miming to laptops, so surely this is a worse crime. If we had to define our sound we’d nudge the reader towards Lene Lovich, Siouxsie, and Tubeway Army (on acid).

3.  Is the punk scene diluted?  Has festival fever watered down the anger, has the internet encouraged social niceties to a far-fetched extent, are people to comfortable for their own good?

Being fairly illusive characters, we have never felt fully part of any scene, and are happy to flit in and out. Tribal gatherings and music festivals are not everyone’s idea of Utopia, but they’ll always have their place. If anger has dissipated then surely it’s because most of us have mellowed with age. We think its great that Charlie Harper, Mensi, Wattie (health permitting), and others still have the passion to belt out their youthful anthems. As for social niceties on the internet, we don’t take that much notice. It probably has replaced duels at ten paces and a good old bar room brawl.  

4.  Flange Grantham lives in a coffee cup and is married to a jelly fanny?  It is a wibble wobble affair with the offspring liable to set at anytime?  If you had jelly kids what would you feed them what would they wear and what hobbies do you think they would enjoy?  Also, on a tangent, would you ever consider marrying a concrete mixer?

Ok, our jelly kids would eat pencil sharpeners and rubber bands. They’d wear arran jumpers and Wellies, enjoy trampolining and beating up liquorice torpedoes. Their great grandfather was a German concrete mixer, a betonmischer, so marrying them is always in the pipeline.  

5.  The Webb's greatest gig to date, best song construction and greatest achievement and...just for balance...your low-point?

Greatest gig ??? That’s a tough question , you demented spore of yeast... We have done 59 gigs to date and  they’ve all left their own unique taste, but the one with the fullest flavour for us was in December 2016 in our home town, Birkenhead. Twas a xmas punk affair and all the key ingredients were sizzling in the pan.

In contrast we played to two people, oh and the sound engineer, on a Friday night in Bradford which was free entry. All the support acts had pulled out too so it was on us to grit our teeth and crack on with it.

Constructing songs does come easily as there’s only one musician at work here. Multiple musical instruments are readily accessible on site, and there are never any blueprints or deadlines. “Little Pieces” is our architectural masterpiece with its multi drumming and all round menace.

A greatest achievement for us would have to be getting a slot on the main stage, Friday night, at Nice’n’Sleazy 2017, based on our afternoon slot in The Lounge the previous year. We appreciate this is a popular annual event on the punk/ska calendar, and have embraced being part of Ivan’s ever expanding family....And yes , we are confirmed for Sleazy 2018 for all you filthy festival flashers.

6.  As a couple how does the song-writing process go and does it make things more complicated being a close-knit duo?

Nowt complicated about being The Webb as Marc spins the main frame of music, and Becki weaves in the lyrics with silky precision. Warning ... the black widow won't throw words at any old construction so plenty tracks are left bereft of lyrical content so never see the light of day. 

7.  How is your local scene fairing these days after having such a rich and colourful history?  What bands are turning you on, what venues are doing the business and what faces are keeping things...pulsing?

We are based in New Ferry, Wirral, not far from where Pete Burns was born and raised.  Wirral also saw John Peel, Ian Astbury (The Cult) and OMD all soiling their nappies. It was over the River Mersey in Liverpool that a swell of scouse talent created a whirlpool of hysteria. (Do not count Julian Cope in this gang, pop pickers, as he was born in Monmouthshire, Wales.) We are not part of any scene, local or otherwise. There is a newish venue called  Maguires Pizza Bar in Liverpool. We did a show there recently courtesy of Liverpool based duo Double Echo. They serve up ethereal noise in a swirly doomy way, reminiscent of early 1980s and they sell their audio treats on cassettes, so Becki likes them all the more.

8.  You have been caught stealing Rizlas from Enoch Umperdinks Corner Shop and now face the prospect of punishment.  Judge Gerry Plunge has found you guilty, you must choose from the following 3 penalties and explain your decisions.  A - to be bummed by a copy of 'Gangrene World', C -  To spend a night in bed with a 4 -limbed amputee who is covered in Daddies Sauce or C - to live in the soiled panties of Virginia Wade without using a back-hand serve.  The choice is yours!

Sorry Mr Umperdink, but we also nicked tobacco, ten No.6 and some gob stoppers, but we accept punishment option A. After the salacious bumming we hope to dry out the pages and read all about dying body tissue due to the loss of blood supply (gangrene to all you other robbing bastards).

9.  Where would you like to be in ten years time in a musical capacity and in life in general and, what would be your greatest ambition to achieve?

Ten years time?? Jesus, ten MINUTE’S time I’ll be knackered from typing all this up, ha. But yeah, if our creaky knees and addled brains allow us, then we’d love to still perform to the same smiling spidery misfits up and down this grey moronic land.

As ambition can be defined as self gratification, then to write and perform the ‘perfect song’ would be top of the list.

10.  As well worn old stagers in the scene your advice to any young striplings just starting out would be most welcome - if you can use the word 'vestibule' in your sagacious words it would get you 10 green shield stamps?

We want the green shield stamps!! SO our top tip is to gather all your gig items in the VESTIBULE , then count each bag/backpack/instrument, then when you’re riddled with post gig adrenal jitters , its a simple bag count on your return.

11.  Anal Tennis - a game of the Gods or just an excuse to put rectal topspin into a game gone mad - thoughts please?

If playing real tennis was all about whacking the ball around the monastic cloisters in the 12th century, then surely anal tennis is a natural progression.

We say bring on the fanny badminton!!! (there’s a grubby shuttlecock joke in there somewhere, ha, ha)

12.  The asylum is empty, the inmates are out watching a 'Rose West Strip Show' - you have the chance to sneak in and daub the walls with promotional wordage - what will it say oh weavers of the wire!

Firstly we’d head straight for the notice board to check out the poster for the strip show... Not wanting to miss Rose’s finale we’d hastily daub “The Webb were here in a dark place”, then pilfer the petty cash, neck some lithium and run for the next bus.