NEWS...

Galitza will soon be departing for the big band graveyard in the sky...
It is with sad and heavy hearts that we have to tell you that Galitza will be splitting up after their gig at Josephs Well on Saturday 14th May.

After who knows how many years (3 or 4??) lots of gigs (can't be specific here neither) lots of songs (dozens at least) and exactly two eps, one half of a 7" and one lp we are calling it quits.

It's been a blast and we have loved most of it. Some gigs have been shitty but on the whole most haven't and despite bickering and swearing at each other more than being nice, we have a deep profound love for each other that only being in a band can give you. That's something lovely for us to take away.

Anyway, the reason? The culprit? It has to be Gonzales. Suddenly realising that he couldn't live any longer in Shipley with a ridiculous latin pseudonym, the only clear option it seemed was to move to Spain asap. So he's off to Barcelona in the summer without giving a second thought for those he leaves behind. But it's nicer there so leave him alone.

Galitza would like to say thanks to everyone who thinks they have some coming. we have been encouraged and supported by so many it would be impossible to make a list. We would leave someone off inadvertently and we don't want that to happen. Needless to say anyone buying a record of ours or who has come to a gig we offer our deep appreciation.

Keep on rocking everyone. Long live Wrath and all who sail in her.
See you at the Tea Time Shuffle and The Well for one last big knees up.

Love Galitza. x

The Flame of Flames is being mastered and is due for release in the next month...
Expect to be able to grab a copy of our ep at our very last gig at Josephs Well on Saturday 14th May (see gigs for more details). Be warned you should be there to get one, we are only pressing 100 copies of these beauties, when they are gone they are gone, a bit like us.

Check out the discography section for a few more details

Emma Bob 3's Galitza Band Diary - November / December 2004:
It has been an age since I last wrote to you. What a rubbish pen friend I am. In my defence it's hard work being a rock star mum, dividing my time between cooking , cleaning, making sure my kids (Lola, Little ZZ Top and Quattro) are happy and well adjusted, then rushing out to rock hard and rock big with Galitza.

Apart from that is a lie.

So what is the truth? What have I been doing and to what end?

Smiling at old people. I have been spreading happiness to the old and infirm whether they have liked it or not, by grinning at them. You may mock, but if we all smiled at the old, they would feel like they had a lot of friends and that would be something special for them to cling to as they sit in their impoverished freezing homes remembering the sacrifices they made in their youth, so we can be free, gluttonous, spoilt and totally ungrateful now.

Other than taking the art of Personal Politics to a level which should allow me to gain arts council funding for simply waking up in the morning (and I have plans for an application, this is not a lie), - the other thing I have mainly been doing is making a new ep with Galitza.

Yes my loves, it is with enormous excitement that I can now tell you that we spent the last week of November recording a 5 track E.P, which will be called The Flame of Flames.

Lewis is producing again and he is mixing as I write and we hope to have the whole thing finished just in time for Valentines day. We had hoped to get it done by Christmas, but those plans went wonky. Time Management is not our strong point. Captains of Industry we are not. Never mind, its all going to be lovely for the new year instead. The first thing you should know about the recording is that Eric and Simon did that terrible 'rhythm section thing' of bonding and leaving the rest of us out. I heard them talking all buddy buddy. It makes me sick. It is only because of this
camaraderie that they managed to play really well and did all their takes in 2 seconds. I'm sure if they had let me be part of their gang I wouldn't have taken half as long to put my bits down. But, they say rhythm guitar doesn't count and told me to go away. And so I did all my parts crying. If you listen to the tracks carefully you can hear my sobs.

Oooh la la some of the above was another lie. What is wrong with me? Anyway, what is true is that since Simon was finished by the second day he had nothing much left to do, so for the remainder of the recording he just sat eating and chortling to himself and he went a bit mad really. But he's ok now.

		Meanwhile, Eric only saved his mental well being by leaving Simon's gang and taking up the button accordion (there are pictures to prove this) and on occasion blurting out ideas like 'can we record everything in mono so we sound like early Who?' Thankfully Lewis thought Eric was joking so ignored him. Steve did all his singing and guitar bits brilliantly first time but then had to redo all his guitar parts because something has gone wrong with his guitar neck so it keeps going out of tune. 'Ha' I thought, 'that will teach cocky boy, ha ha ha!' but I only said supportive things like 'oh bad luck old chum' out loud obviously.

Billy was happy when he played his guitar but shy when he sang. Ahh! He had many outlandish ideas, many of which were excellent, many of which had to be nipped out of existence like a boxer puppy's tail. Never mind, it is good for him. Me? I was mainly on my best behaviour and only threw 1 hissy fit the whole time. But I did get very greedy and ate some 'freedom fries' that were not mine to eat. It got a bit ugly. Ever since I have been known as Bobby Four Chips. Greed is bad. I am learning this fact by enduring daily ritual humiliation.

So to the songs:
Our Decent: It's a harmonised pop stormer, about how annoying fucked up love is. Coolio.

Out in the Woods: It's an all-wrong song about chopping up your lover. Oops.

Rusty Lake: Is it a song or just some damn strange experiment? Only you dear listener will ever really know. Lorks.

Ladies: It's throbbing and grubby and is concerned with girl on girl action. Yummy.

Whitby by the Sea: A hotch potch of soiled yet beautiful memories collide on this really quite beautiful closer. Wow

Place your orders.

And then get yourself down to our gig on Friday the 10th of Dec. Christmas japes here we come.

I'll hopefully see you there.

Until then, much love eb3 x

Update by Eric The Who
Hi Kids

Much of what Four Chips says is true, if twisted by a mind addled by way too much starch. For example, me and the Count did indeed form an unbreakable partnership and got all the bass and drums down in a maximum of two takes; but this had less to do with being a top class rhythm section and everything to do with being the only two members of Galitza to show up to move the gear from the rehearsal rooms to the recording studio the night before. It was a freezing November evening and brought the first snows of winter. Brrrrr. The next day my car wouldn't start and it hasn't moved since. When you form a bond under those conditions, it's for keeps.

Not that we're bitter. No one else could make it because they had damn good reasons: they were all washing their hair, and dogs had eaten their homework.

Ok. I'll never mention it again.

....a band dynamic is like the shifting sands of the Kalahari, and come the Saturday, me and Gonzales were once more the best of chums. Young Strickto picked up on it at once:

"Look at you two. All chummy chummy. I suppose you stayed up half the night getting drunk on wine, smoking cigars and talking about Napoleon?"

Stunned by the uncanny accuracy of this observation we could only exchange sheepish glances and change the subject.

The winds blew once more across the uncharted expanse of desolate sands....

Recording highlight? Aside from sharing Simon's giant box of butter-nut popcorn (fantastic!) and getting to play the button accordion on Out In The Woods, I reckon it was watching Emma Bob put down the keyboards on Our Descent.

I've never before heard such a blast of foul and despicable language burst from the lips of any living creature. At the control desk, Lewis visibly blanched. And that boy can swear.

And yet somehow, from behind the tornado of obscenity, the agonized facial contortions, the unfeasibly twisted finger positions and seemingly random spasmodic thrusts at the ivories, something beautiful emerged. Like watching a tangled, screeching mass of limbs unfold with a strange, faltering grace into the shape of a new-born deer calf.

And that, as my old granny used to say, is why we're in this crazy business.