When Breathe invited us round to their flat for Mexican chilli, we didn't realise it would involve tales of Faroochi Fungus, food poisoning and drunken romps in underpants.
"Oh dear. We should have gone to Spud-U-Like instead," blurbs a quaking Sue Dando.
"...And this is the pan I always cook my chilli in."
Oo-er. Spike has just shown us round the Breathe kitchen, and is now dangerously weilding a rather ordinary-looking saucepan. Whisking out his pinny, he then proceeds to dollop a heap of red beans and mince in to its lowly depths and dumps the lot on the red-hot stove.
Er...yum.
The reason for all this culinary activity is because Just Seventeen is about to witness the Great Breathe Chilli-Making Experience. You see, all three band members, plus their friend and backing musician Steve, live together in a North London flat. And they admit their haute cuisine is, er, limited, to say the least.
"We cook chilli con carne - which is what you're getting today - and chicken and chips. And that's it," hollers David Glasper, who's lounging about in the adjoining living room. "We're all too lazy to cook regularly so we just eat out. If we do cook, the washing-up ends up staying in the sink until it festers and it's got fungus all over it. It's pretty disgusting."
Looking round the pristine kitchen and spotless living room (albeit festooned with bits of recording equipment, drum kit and several guitars) which leads off it, you can't help but feel the boys must have made a special effort for the camera today. "Oh yeah," grins David. "We knew you were coming so we tidied it especially for you. Usually you need mountaineering equipment to get over everything."
"It gets to the point where it is so messy we have to tidy up," adds Marcus Lillington. "It'll only take a day of us all being here together for it to go back to being a tip again; it's unbelievable." "We've even got fungus growing in the bottom of the shower!" bellows David. "It's quite a nice plant, we're cultivating it to grow up the wall. Whay don't we clean it off? Because it's great, it looks good and it's got a certain appeal to it. It's like a little fist sticking out of the wall. It's called Fred...."
"No, Fred's too boring a name," argues Spike. "I know what we should call it...Faroochi Fungus (??) So...would you like mushrooms in the chilli?"
("I'm off!" -J17 reporter)
Several aeons later and Mrs. Beeton...er, Spike, is still blustering around the stove, prodding and poking, stirring and tasting everything in sight.
David and Marcus, meanwhile, haven't yet lifted a single finger to help, preferring instead to (unsuccessfully) sneak the odd Mexican taco shell and sliver of tomato into their gobs without hte busy chef noticing.
So exactly how do you cook chilli, Spike? "It's really simple. All you've gotta do is just prepare the ingredients - chilli, beans, peppers maybe, and rice - then it's just a matter of timing, looking after it..."
David: "I dunno about that. I think there's a certain amount of green fingers needed - like doing the gardening (?). There's a knack to it. And certainly I haven't got it at all. I can't even make toast properly."
Spike (snorts): "Yeah, you always burn it, don't you? harhar!" "I've tried to make meals," continues David, "but they've always turned into a horrendous kind of greeny brown splodgy thing. I'll try and make something creative, like an omelette or something, and it just comes out absolutely gross, like green paste!"
So how do you all get on living together?
David: "It's cool. We've lived here for seven months now; we moved in together because we couldn't afford to get a flat each. Of course, we have the odd argument. We'll have words over, say, 'Who's been wearing my boxer shorts?' or 'Who's been stealing my socks?' But nothing major. Waiting in queue for the shower is the main thing, when there's four of us trying to get in there on a morning."
"If there are any arguments, it's usually first thing in the morning," parps Spike, "and then it's usaully because we're usually tired...and it's normally my fault too."
"But only because he's so irritable at that time of day," pipes David.
By this time, pots and pans are spluttering and spitting and there's a fair amount of steam threatening to take over the entire kitchen area. Knives, forks, and plates are laid out and David is tripping about the flat, his legs bowed Mexicano-bandito-who's-just-got-offo-his-horseido style, while whooping various eh-gringos and yeee-haaas to no-one in particular. A dishful of yum!-looking chilli and rice is placed before the hogettes, and Breathe proceeds to trough their way through a mighty fine spread of nosh.
In between various rumblings of "This is delicious" and "amazing," we wondered if there's anything that makes Breathe barf. "Oh err yesssss - Galliano!" they all roar. Why? David takes up the sorry tale of woe... "We had a shared experience of it once. Galliano is this disgusting syrupy alcoholic stuff. And we got so drunk on it. Paralytic. Oh God, the thought of it's making me feel ill..."
"We were only going down the pub for a few pints," adds Marcus, "then a friend decided to have a party. Someone introduced us to these things called kamikazes, which are made from Galliano and loads of other drinks. It's a gross combination. We ended up dancing on the table, then me and Spike fell over and because both of us are weighty chaps, we broke it!"
Spike: "We came out of the pub and I was wobbling all over the place... in the ditch, in the road, in the car park, and I couldn't remember a thing about it afterwards."
David (jumping up and down excitedly): Hahahahah! Spike transforms into Jack Nicholson when he's drunk. He goes into the toilet where some kind of metamorphosis occurs, so he comes out a different human being, with these manic eyebrows and a smile that goes up his whole face."
Spike: "I was chasing this girl around the front room in my underpants!" (At this point the three of them collapse in uncontrollable cackles for about five minutes, before David splutters:) "She was 'orrible as well."
"And I only had my underpants on, " continues a red-faced Spike. "And as you can imagine, I was... it was like, I was really excited as well...(All:HARHARHARHAR!)...But I was so pissed that I didn't give a damn, I was just like...(Yes, that's quite enough alcohol-related tales, thank you very much - Ed)
With a mountain of food beginning to settle in their tums, Breathe are back on the more savoury subject of favorite foods. "We're all fans of Indian food," gobbles David. "We have to stop ourselves from eating it though 'cause... well, it's not very pleasant for anyone the next morning. All three of us are food fiends. We eat a lot."
Do you put weight on easily?
"Fortunately I don't. I used to do weight-training and that type of thing but I don't get the time these days. My weight stays the same, but I'm sure that when I'm 25 or 26 I'll suddenly go 'Heuurrrgh!' and become a total blob."
Do you suffer from spots?
Spike: "I get a load of spots. I've always got spots."
David: "Spike the Spot..."
Spike: "It's a part of growing up. That's what I've been saying for the last 10 years!"
And what's the worst meal you've ever had?
"The one we had yesterday," groans Marcus. "We were doing the video for Jonah and we were at some docks. There was only a greasy caff that the dock workers use and it sold the most gross food ever. Greasy beans, greasy chips, greasy spoons. Urrgh, it was just disgusting - three meals of the same stuff all day. It was vile."
"We went to Spain recently as well," moans Spike "And their cafes are 'orrible too."
David: "You get about 15 different courses of little bits of food. It's called tapas. And the hygeine, the way they prepare things over there, is really bad. You see flies buzzing around over the food and they don't even bat an eye about it."
"It was really oily as well," adds Marcus (who seems to have a bit of a phobia about greasy scoff). "Ur! You remember that Chinese we had in Warrington? I just looked at it and couldn't even consider it. It looked disgusting. We were doing some warm-up gigs there and we went for this most disgusting meal ever. I'm sure it was made out of cardboard."
So have you ever suffered from food poisoning?
Marcus: "Oh dear, yes..."
Spike: "Not so much from Indian curries as you might think, though, considering the amount we eat. They just give you a smelly bottom..."
Marcus (continuing on his rather serious "anecdote" on stomach troubles): "...I've had it quite severely actually."
Spike (continuing his bottom-problems snippet): "...Up all night..."
Marcus: "...'Orrible. The worst thing..."
Spike: "...Not recently though. Touch wood..."
Meanwhile, David- obviously fed up with hearing his two pals' rather cheerless accounts- suddenly pipes, "We've never actually had food poisoning from Spike's chilli yet though- you just die from that."
Oh dear.
From Just 17 Magazine
Writer Sue Dando (?)
Photos by Paul Rider include Breathe in various poses wearing sombreros and mustaches!
