The story of THE DEEP FREEZE MICE

When celebrated hipsters MGMT quoted the Deep Freeze Mice (DFM) as a big influence, they were probably the first band to do so. It’s high time to set the record straight for a band who embodied independence, resulting in a unique catalogue of music and some top collectables.

Their history began in the late 70s when Alan Jenkins (vocals/guitar), Sherree Lawrence (organ) and Graham Summers (drums) were at school together. Jenkins was playing rudimentary guitar in a variety of awful bands, where he was occasionally joined by Lawrence, who had bought a Vox Continental organ with her birthday money.

Jenkins was obsessive about bands. Blessed with a metaphysical sense of humour, he also loved playing complex guitar solos (despite not being very good at it). It may come as no surprise he was an avid Frank Zappa fan. Lawrence, on the other hand, had her own obsession: reading science fiction, which she was so keen on, she sometimes read during rehearsals and on stage.

Meanwhile, Summers formed The Statics with bassist Mick Bunnage. In 1977, at the height of punk, Jenkins formed a duo with guitarist John Duffin, calling themselves The Deep Freeze Mice after the song Bring Back To Life The Deep Freeze Mice, written by one of Jenkins’ friends. 

By 1979 Duffin had jumped ship and Lawrence was in and, since they lacked a drummer, they invited their old schoolmate Summers (who brought along Bunnage for fun) for their first recording session. Bunnage remembers Jenkins and Lawrence as “a right couple of weirdoes”, not hindered by any knowledge about the recording process or how to play their instruments properly. They were, however, bursting with enthusiasm and recorded My Geraniums Are Bulletproof in a day. With no preconceptions to hold them back, Geraniums was highly eccentric pop, incorporating strange timings, strange chord changes and even stranger lyrics about animal rights, the environment, lettuce and being in love with Margaret Thatcher. One side had songs, the other was a long collage of sounds, and one reviewer wrote, “side B is different from side A; in fact it’s different from any side A”. Needless to say the album is a classic.

Not realizing they could sign to a record company, the DFM financed the album themselves, released it on their label Mole Embalming and distributed it from their car. The late 70s DIY post-punk ethic fitted them like a glove. Much to their surprise, the initial 250 copies of Geraniums, featuring handmade covers, sold very well. Original copies complete with all inserts are very valuable. In February 1980 the Mice played their first gig, supporting The Statics, with Summers and Bunnage playing in both bands. Uncomfortable with performances, the DFM always had an awkward on-stage presence that suggested most members would have preferred to be somewhere else. Shortly after the gig, Summers and Bunnage quit The Statics and joined the DFM permanently. An early DFM live clip is on YouTube. 

Due to the recession of the early 80s, all DFM members were unemployed and had no cash for equipment. For years, Jenkins only owned a small practice amp, which he also used for performances, so no one was able to hear him. Sharing a house and subsisting on coffee and digestives (immortalized in the song I Like Digestive Biscuits In My Coffee), DFM rehearsed for days on end and spent countless hours discussing songs. 

Using money they made from Geraniums, DFM recorded their second LP Teenage Head In My Refrigerator on Easter Sunday 1981. The album featured a photo of Lawrence next to a fridge holding a cow’s heart. Teenage Head featured various inserts such as a quiz to test your “savoir faire” and a “band-tree” linking DFM to The Beatles, Elvis Presley and Jimi Hendrix.

Their third album, The Gates Of Lunch, originally was intended to be a double, but money problems forced the DFM to release Gates as a single disc. On 14 August 1982 the Mice opened the first Abbey Park Festival in Leicester, where, apart from the band, hardly anyone showed up. Jenkins announced the gig as “like Woodstock, only without the audience”.

Meanwhile, Summers had become convinced the band was never going to be successful, due to a lack of ambition for which he blamed Jenkins, who seemed to be happy to rehearse ever-more-complex songs, release them on albums that were hardly available, play occasional gigs where no one turned up and then do it all over again. By early 1983, relationships hit a low point when Lawrence noticed Summers “talking to himself a lot”, and he left the band. Consequently, DFM had to use a rhythm machine for most of their fourth album, Saw A Ranch House Burning Last Night. Money problems forced them to take out a loan from a bank to finance the pressing (those were the days). This time, there were no lengthy excursions, but a fine selection of off-beat pop, even including a charming ballad, The Damage. 

After Ranch House, they met drummer Pete Gregory who, it turned out, not only knew, but actually liked the band’s music. The fact that Gregory knew Saw A Ranch House Burning Last Night was a line from the Western Stagecoach rendered an audition unnecessary. With him, the band cut the double album I Love You Little Bobo, With Your Delicate Golden Lions (a quote from an Allen Ginsberg poem). Jenkins’ favourite, it is their most diverse record, covering the full spectrum of the DFM sound. It was the first release on Cordelia, Jenkins’ label, named after his cat. The radio-­friendly single Zoology was released, sung by Lawrence, and in summer 1984 the DFM played their last UK show, in Leicester. The rest of the year was spent rehearsing and saving up for what is considered their best LP, Hang On Constance, Let Me Hear The News. 

If  "Ι Love You Little Bobo..." was DFM’s White Album, "Hang On Constance Let Me Hear The News" was their Revolver, filled to the brim with brilliant psych-pop, surreal lyrics and the right level of experimentation. With Cordelia lacking cash to promote it, Constance became a lost classic.
Their 1986 12” single Neuron Music, one of the most bizarre discs ever, featured several locked grooves and both 45 as 33rpm playing speeds (courtesy of Jenkins’ presence at the cutting of the disc). 

That same year (1986) saw Jenkins forming his second band, The Chrysanthemums and - accepting a job as software engineer - Lawrence leaving their communal mousehole in Leicester. Bunnage already lived in London, working as a journalist and cartoonist. It took a lot of organizing before the DFM could record their next album War, Famine, Death, Pestilence and Miss Timberlake (a quote from the Cary Grant movie That Touch Of Mink), which wasn’t released until November 1987. The last album Gregory appeared on, Timberlake maintained the quality of Constance. Late 1987 also marked the band’s final recordings when Jenkins, Lawrence and Bunnage reconvened to record The Tender Yellow Ponies Of Insomnia on Jenkins’ four-track tape recorder. Despite not being their best album, Ponies does contain classics such as Buzzing Unobtrusively and Ariadne Metal Cream Pie. Cordelia also released Rain Is When The Earth Is Television, an album of unreleased material.

And then? The Deep Freeze Mice evaporated. They never officially broke up. Even though, after what Bunnage describes as “20 years of enigmatic silence”, new DFM recordings might seem unlikely, they are, according to Summers, not impossible as “sound practical reasoning was never part of the DFM’s way of thinking”.