A deep dive into the history of The KLF

I've talked before about my early career in the music industry, working for KLF Communications (see An education with the KLF Communications). I just stumbled upon a really solid article about the history of the British art-pop duo on Discopogo, and I learned a few things that I hadn't know before.

Author Joe Muggs has done a fine job, interviewing many people in the KLF's orbit, including Cressida Bowyer (Jimmy Cauty's former partner) as well as Bill Drummond's earlier Liverpool colleagues like David Balfe. 

Muggs also avoids the trap that so many journalists can't help but fall into when it comes to describing The KLF's more outrageous stunts in breathless tones. Instead, he explores the creative crucible that led to the formation of The KLF in the mid to late 80s, and summarizes the impact of the music to the present day.

So, what was in the Disco Pogo article that I didn't know before?     

First, the pseudo-mystical lyrics and imagery wasn't something picked out of a book, like Jimmy Page digging into old writings by Aleister Crowley. Muggs writes: 

If there’s an origin story for all this madness, it comes in the mid-1970s when Drummond, down from Scotland to study art in Liverpool, became a carpenter and scene painter for the notably progressive Everyman Theatre. It was here that actor and anarchist provocateur Ken Campbell put on his 24-hour production of ‘The Illuminatus! Trilogy’ by Robert Shea and Robert Anton Wilson – and Drummond was drawn into the worlds of both Campbell and the serious-not-serious pseudo-religion Discordianism, which surrounds all things ‘Illuminatus!’ Pyramids, golden apples, secret societies, lost continents, the number 23 and the idea that the fabric of reality could be an artistic medium all entered the mix.

Second, the early KLF seemed to be gravitating toward a factory pop model, and at one point even fashioned themselves after The Beastie Boys, which kind of makes sense if you listen to 'Whitney Joins The JAMs' or ‘1987 (What the Fuck Is Going On?)’:

“I think they were trying to be the Beastie Boys,” says Iain Baker, later of Jesus Jones. “You could see it with them calling themselves King Boy D and Rockman Rock. They probably wanted to be popular. But I was working in a record shop then, and I can tell you they were only selling to chin-stroking, John-Peel-listening, art-rock-type guys.”

Third, Trancentral was not a state of mind or a fictional place, as I had assumed. It was a squat in Stockwell:

Drummond moved into the Stockwell squat that would soon become known as Trancentral, and as he and Cauty became thick as thieves the weird symbolism started flowing, starting with the JAMs name, which came straight out of ‘Illuminatus!’.

It was here that a lot of musical experimentation took place, feeding off and contributing to the energy of the emerging Acid House scene. One witness described it as "a five-storey squat ... they just ripped out every internal wall, the place was full of acrow props holding up the ceilings. Their parties were a bit terrifying."

Trancentral was also the headquarters of KLF Communications for a few years. This was before I became a contractor/employee, first at Lillie Yard studio (cofounded by Hans Zimmer in Fulham when he still was based in London) and later in the Brixton Enterprise Centre.

Finally, there's a summary of post-KLF activities by Cauty and Drummond. Some I had heard about, including K2. Other activities were unknown to me, such as the donation of music masters going to the British Library and film material to the BFI. There was even a bit about Jarvis Cocker singing ‘Justified and Ancient’ at an event in 2017, plus other connections to younger artists and collaborators.

Read Muggs's article here.