Page 35 - ION Indie Magazine MayJune 2019

For six months, everything was going brilliantly and between them they built up quite a nice little
nest egg. But one day, the unthinkable happened and the chicken croaked, the monkey got choked,
and they all went to heaven in a little row-boat, clap hands, clap hands, clap hands – clap. Oh, hang
on, I think I've gone off track here. Where was I? Oh yeah, Libby's early years.

Of course, she wasn't managed by a chicken. That would be absurd. She was managed by a fox.
Foxes are pretty damned shrewd. Plus, they will eat chickens for breakfast. Literally. And when I
say shrewd, I mean cunning, not clever. His cunning didn't help him when he got run over by Rod
Stewart's Mercedes.

Anyway, Libby had been best buds with Charlotte from an early age and it wasn't until their teens
that they decided to team up and make some music together. They wanted to get Claire in on the
drums, but she wasn't interested as she had other fish to fry. You know, what with her working in a
fish and chip shop in the evenings and all that. But Libby and Charlotte were determined little devils,
if the truth be known, and they lured her back to Libby's house with the promise of a half bottle of
Pinot Grigio and a KFC Family Bucket.

When she got there, they used chloroform to render her unconscious, then shoved her in the cellar
until the hypnotist turned up later in the day. When he arrived, they led him down to the cellar where
Claire was snoring her head off and mumbling about cream cakes. They sat her up and the hypnotist
got his pocket watch and started swinging it in front of her. “Look into my eyes…you’re feeling
sleepy,” he said.

“Hang on mate!” said Claire. “You just woke me up to tell me I'm
feeling sleepy? What's going on here?”

“Your eyelids are becoming heavy,” he continued. He repeated this
twaddle for a few minutes, then he said, “You have an
overwhelming desire to play drums in Charlotte and Libby's band.”

Claire looked at Charlotte and said, “Alright, already. You had me
at half a bottle of plonk and a family bucket of chicken, for crying
out loud!”

Now, for those aficionados amongst you that may be reading this,
there may be parts of this story that aren't 100% true. As far as I
know, Charlotte doesn't even have a cellar. Or maybe she does. I
don't know. I just added that bit for atmosphere. But I still reckon
that's where they got the name “Desensitised.” Coincidence? I think
not! Anyway, on with the plot. I’m here at
Yellow Arch Studios with the three amigas
and the interview went like this…

Mal Whichelow: You started in 2011 as

a 5-piece band didn't you…is that
right?

Charlotte: Yeah, that's right. We started at school. It was us

three and two boys! We played with them for a couple of years

and one after another they left. To be fair, they were more into

metal, whereas we were more into punk, so our styles didn't
really match. But we were good friends.