Interstitial #1: Gong

Daevid Allen of Gong writes: "Great work, David... great idea! The only thing is that I feel the Gong mandala is really the official band mandala, given that it is a Pythagorean-inspired power symbol which resolves 22 and 7... something that is mathematically impossible, of course, but possible as here through the art of sacred geometry. It took me four years to work it out, and even then I only succeeded thanks to two or three vital clues from Pyramid Bill Harkin, designer of the original Glastonbury Festival Pyramid Stage, who himself studied with the Sufis. You can draw it yourself using a straight ruler and a compass, in 32 easy steps. Beyond the official Gong mandala, there are three other main contenders:

Firstly...the Pot Head Pixies (PHPS) (well chosen)...who will be displeased with me unless I mention that they are the representatives of the Invisible Planet Gong preparing to land in 2032. They don't really mind if they are not the central symbol, but they would rather like a mention. I mean, they are the ones that are fully on a mission! Also, and by the way, they don't really like being called Pot Head Pixies. They would prefer to be called Radio Gnomes. Actually, they are telepathic space gnomes blessed with the power of positive transmission & startling progressions. In other words: quality good vibes. These aliens will introduce a new system of music so magnetic and so subtle that it will transform the human concept of space and mathematics and with it the entire group consciousness of Planet Earth. There will be unanimous agreement that it was a change for the better. But, ho yes! Why should you believe this? You have heard of the Velvet Revolution? Well, this will be the Purple Suede Shoe Revolution. "They who dance not know not what we know!"

Anyway, I agree with your choice of the Pot Head Pixies images as icons or glyphs. The first drawings in 1962 were the early signal that there was a whole tribe of them out there. Certainly they spring out of my pen at the drop of a nib. They are the most numerous inhabitants of the Planet Gong. They have an expanded sense of humour and I am very respectful of them. I bow.

Secondly, there is the Banana Moon, or moon in the first quarter. In 1959, I chose the nubile crescent moon as my Glyph and called it my Banana Moon Signal. From this point on, I used it in my signature at will. Much later, I had the vision of Selene...goddess of the moon. Born from the shadows the rising moon is the rebirth of the virgin whereupon enriched by love she grows to her full splendour only to slowly ripen into such succulently sweet womanly wines that her most fervent lovers regularly lose their cellphones. Selene came to me in this form. Interestingly, selenium is a conscious mineral from afar. Finally, as the wisely wrinkling crone, she dips into the darkness of the group unconsciousness to return with teaching stories that turn lives. Then she is gone. No moon. Not even nothing left. And I digress...

Finally (ahem): The Teapot! What is this? A symbol? Ah, yes - this, too, could be seen as a contender. Cripes, it isn't easy to decide which it should be. So, maybe they all deserve to be included. Over to you...

Cheers,
Daevid Allen"

Logo #61: Gong

Gong's ubiquitous gnome, drawn by Gong showman and founder Daevid Allen in 1962, appears as the focal point of a trilogy of albums (expanded to a quinary by 2000): "Flying Teapot" and "Angel's Egg" (both 1973), and "You" (1974). The English progressive band - where "progressive" means all possible positive perceptions of the word - has effectively been alive since 1965, the year in which Allen had a vision in which his entire future was laid out as a plain before him (winning lottery numbers notwithstanding). This illustration was taken from a brilliant history of the EMS line of synthesizers, found here. As rock band logos go, it's a whimsical mix of folk art and the methodology of mythologies both personal and traditional.

I saw Gong perform in the late '90s in Los Angeles at the defunct Billboard Live venue - a club which broadcast the concerts live to a huge video screen on the front of the building. It turned into the Key Club, and sits in the spot on which Bill Gazzarri's (June 16, 1924 - March 13, 1991) club once stood. Same kind of band ethos in that particular block or three of Sunset Boulevard, though - not much has changed from the days of "The Decline of Western Civilization, Part II." This was during the version of the band in which Pierre Moerlen (October 23, 1952 - May 3, 2005) played drums - and just when you think eminently flipped-out, well-traveled musicians have seen it all, no stranger a look on their faces was had than when I asked the members of Gong to sign my, erm, gong. It just seems such an obvious thing to ask. The following day, I had an enlightening conversation with Gong founder Daevid Allen, who detailed at great length how deeply Virgin Records founder Richard Branson hated their guts. Oh, we talked about everything from here to the ends of the cosmos but that really stuck out for some reason - possibly because Richard Branson seems so serene amidst his billions.