I was born standing up on the 18th October 1977 in Carshalton, Surrey, United Kingdom. My dad wanted to give me the middle name Keith for a laugh just so that my initials were KKK. Mum vetoed him when it came to filling out my certificate. I love my mums ‘hat hair’ in this shot, gotta love 1970’s fashion eh? She tells me it’s all the range but that’s definitely a unique hairdo isn’t it?
I stood approximately the same height at birth as your average yukka plant outside flowering season (Or 34 breadths of a pigeon). I became the first child in the world to be born through reverse osmosis after my Dad underwent a pioneering procedure at London’s King’s College hospital. He still hasn’t paid the parking fine after leaving his old Ford Cortina on double yellow lines outside.
My Mother (Shirley, From Lambeth, London) was a non-stop darts player by trade who retrained to become a nursery nurse before retiring at 35 years old to live out her lifelong dream of collecting County Court Summons. Dad (Brian, From Camberwell, London) was an electrician who often flirted with the stock market by investing his money in racing horses and the occasional Middle Eastern conflict.
My parents were very much ‘Ying and Yang’; Mum the prim and proper Sunday School Teacher and Dad the pirate. The old man was always willing to join me in my quest for playing pranks and taught me that you didn’t have to grow up if you didn’t want to! This was epitomised by our love for slapstick comedy (Laurel and Hardy films, Abbott and Costello or Japanese gameshows) and also going to watch Manchester United play from when I was around 7 years of age. Singing on the terraces, you can say the word ‘fuck’ in public and it is perfectly acceptable. This is also the same for handy words like bugger, slag, slutty mong lover, wankytooltastic and cunty brickdust.
I grew up in a very musical house in the quiet suburbs of Wallington (‘Toot, toot, toot’ it used to go!) because Mum was something of a rocker and concert goer (Dad said she was a bit of a goer or something) in the 60’s; Dad however spent most of the 60’s in Soho’s Ska and Blue Beat clubs but couldn’t remember any of it due to copious amounts of drugs.
Amid all that I had my older sister Lorraine constantly playing Soul and various tunes (I blame her for my love of James Brown). The other thing I blame her for is my hatred of musicals; I often remember watching Sinbad or Star Wars and her coming in to watch Grease. Musicals are just wrong. She also had a really offensive ‘George Michael – Wham’ poster up in her room which I hated. I love her to pieces though really. The picture above is Rainy (Lorraine) and I with our lovely Mum by our holiday Caravan home in Selsey Bill.
My brother Brian listens to all kinds of crap due to having a very eclectic taste in music (Dance music, eek). Saying that, he often stole Lorraines Public Enemy LPs and put them on very loud which was pretty cool; I also remember him pumping out Run DMC and stuff like that. Brian was always someone who could make me laugh no matter as a kid, and still does to be fair; He’s the bravest and most humble man I know.
I’d also have to cite my Grandfather Derek (Mums father) as one of my greatest influences due to his love of Classical music, British comedy and various documentaries on history and nature which we often watched together. Before I was born, Pop was known for being strict and having very Victorian-values; he was the archetypal patriarch, head of the family.
However I “dared to tread where others feared” and apparently mellowed him by being extremely cheeky; In fact, my childhood nickname for Pop was ‘Skinhead’ and his for me was “Scraggs Arse”, both of which he would always put in my birthday cards with this along with a very surreal ‘Derek and Clive’ style personalised message.
Pop and I shared the same sense of humour and we’d often watch classic British comedies on T.V. such as Spike Milligan’s Q series, the Two Ronnies, Benny Hill and Dave Allen; I genuinely believe that cutting my teeth on all this was the founding stone for my Antikrish mentality. Pop passed away in 2011, may the loveable old bastard rest in peace.
SCHOOL AND MY 20’s
When I was 16, I took a part time job at Boots the Chemist in Croydon, working within their photo development lab and ‘Sound and Music’. Boots was pretty much my scratching post and I turned from a fairly quiet young chap into a self righteous git very quickly. It was there I started working with a particularly obscure sort of bloke who eventually became known to me as Alexander Baldy; an outgoing, direct and informative chap who always amused me with his ability to shock through honesty and his unpredictable interactions with Joe Public.
When I met Alex, he was the epitome of eloquence and good manners, he didn’t swear, curse or belch; however, I soon taught him the error of his ways and in turn he taught me how to play guitar. During this time, I became increasingly obsessed with the Indian cultural roots which stem through my Dads bloodline because Alex and I shared a common bond; Alex also shared an Indian bloodline through his Dad and our friendship grew because of that, our tastes in music and also our love for comedy and pranks.
In my late teens, I spent most of my time working, studying and recording music with Alex; so it was bloody amazing that I found the spare to time to travel around the States as much as I did. Here I am in Kansas.
Back at home I reluctantly finished my Business Studies degree and eventually became so disenchanted with marketing that I began working in Medical insurance through to my mid twenties; it was during this time that I found out my father was terminally ill with cancer. 😦
With the time I had left with Dad, I slowly began to find my way back to being ‘Antikrish’ and cherished every single moment that we shared together in those final weeks. Dad and I enjoyed watching countless hours of classic Manchester United football matches together on MUTV; they were often nostalgia evoking games that we had either both attended together or watched over the pub.
I also put on a few horse and dog racing bets for Dad when it was my turn to spend the night with him at the hospice; that was a lot of fun and harked back to the days where I’d try to catch him out counting his winnings at Wimbledon Greyhound Stadium on any given weekend. I remember being something of an annoyance to my Dad when he gambled at the track during my early childhood; however, in later years he eventually came to value my uncanny ability to pick winners on a very consistent basis and I still miss the banter of winding him up by pretending that I wouldn’t share my gut instincts on a particular race.
Dad passed away before his time and left a very big hole in my soul, but I continue to be inspired by his memory because the old man was always so encouraging with my music. I’d often turn to see him standing in the hallway whilst I jammed on the guitar and can still see the huge grin on his face whilst I played a couple of riffs from his favourite band ‘The Searchers’.
Over the course of 2007 I became more my old self before getting back into playing guitar which was something I shelved entirely for almost 4 years (mainly because I was so uninspired at the time, even amid amazing trips to Hong Kong in 2004 and Japan in 2005).
Nowadays, my life is very much how I want it to be, and more importantly, I have finally come to appreciate my Mother and love and cherish her for the unique person that she is; our relationship was historically a difficult one and we’d often clash because of our similarities in personality and directness, but not any more.
I often wonder if that was Dad’s final lesson to me? That I would come to know Mum so completely and value my family above all else? Perhaps.
Everything that I am, is because of my Mum and Dad; and this site is dedicated to them. Thank you for reading and welcome to my world!