Moopo’s pataphysical biography. My name is Moopo. I was born under Bob Wyatt’s Moon in June and remained behind, a lonesome Moonchild for many years under King Crimson’s protection. I spent time in watching a static Pink Moon above me, while Nick Drake was obliged to a swinging Moondance by Van Morrison and Santana strewed Moonflowers all around us. Suddenly Television turned on and I came to an adult neurotic rock’n roll at the Marquee Moon. ‘Don’t worry, my friend: one day Paul Weller will put a Moon on Your Pyjamas’, someone predicted there. Then my pink moony guitar came to me and tried to shade Neville Brothers’ Yellow Moon. The result was that pink and yellow melt into a Silver Moon, where even David Sylvian benefited by King Crimson’s protection for a while. Meantime I got Drunk on the Moon together with Tom Waits’ piano everynight. Some Pink Floyd fan moonish scientists will insist on convincing you to look for Syd Barrett and me on The Dark Side of the Moon. Forget it: please come now at the Seahorses Studio to listen to Me and the Monkey on the Moon covered by an unforgettable Felt sound. It’s so beautiful to moon away a whole day there and try to answer AC/DC-Mark Kozelek’s basic question:What’s next to the Moon?
Moopo”The Only word of my prayer” Seahorse 2004