Another user posted, so I can present more jokes without looking like a show stealer.

It was late winter of 1974 when four, unknown, musicians stepped into the offices of Melbourne Records in Sidney - Bruce (Guitar), Bruce (Drums, Percussions), Brucie (Keyboards) and Bruce (Bass) were signed up to the label under the name Llama that very same day and their first, eponymously-titled, vinyl beauty came out a mere five months later.

Although Llama's debut was certainly the band's most accomplished musical feat to date, it was rather coolly received. It sold fewer then 5 copies, two of them bought by Bruce's (Drums, Percussions, Coconuts) parents.

In 1974 noone foresaw that Llama would change the world of music, advance Rock & Roll a few giant steps, be the first band to play on Mars, nor even to claim the crown from King of Tibet. And quite wisely so, as none of that ever happened.

Fascinated by the possibility of success as rock stars, Llama soon released another masterpiece. As sales were going down,Llama decided to kiss up to their record company by naming their new labour of loveMelbourne. Obviously, the sleeve designer was cross eyed, but the cover attracted a brilliant tobacco manufacturer, who copied it to produce one of of today's most fashionable cigarette brands.

1974 was Llama's last year with the original line up. Bruce (bass) was to drop out to pursue a widely acclaimed career as keeper of an Alpaca herd. Brucie (keyboards) refrained from playing anything again, as, by the end of the recording of the first masterpiece, he'd been found to be completely incompetent as a player at all. Bruce (guitars) and Bruce (drums, percussions, rototom, tinkerbell) were still in search of new musicians when the sessions for their 1975 extravaganza, Spitless began.

Into the studio with Llama came George (keys) and Bill (bass) in the summer of 1975. It was Bill who jotted down Out on the Pram, a song notably different from Llama's typical musical efforts, specifically because it featured several DIFFERENT notes. Fortunately, though, this drastic change of direction was disrupted as he left the band early on in the recording sessions, to be replaced by Ewen (guitars) a few days later. And again, a couple of days after that. Some weeks later, Bruce (guitars) noticed the bass replacement was actually a guitarist, and that he was no longer single-handedly in control of the string-driven-thing. So he sacked Bruce (drums, percussions, whistles, mouth clicks) and went in search of a new violin player instead.

After employing George Lennon (vocals, tambourine - no relation!) and Jack McCartney (bass pedals - no relation at all! ... honest!), Spitless finally saw the light of day in December 1975... But for only a few moments, before the hovercraft carrying the newly pressed albums sank on its way to the continent. The album was received with mixed reactions. Some didn't like it, some simply hated it, most couldn't care less, and apparently the fish never knew what hit them.

In 1976 it was clear that Llama had to find a new direction. After giving it a few seconds of thought, Bruce (guitar, vocals, accordion, silly arm-pit sounds, percussions) decided it was time to join the Metal Rock trend. June 1976 saw the release of the heavily rocking I Can Lick Your Whip From Here. Originally intended to match its name with an attractive S/M graphic sleeve, Llama decided instead to annoy everybody with tasteless suggestions against farm animals. The new, fresh musical approach gained Llama sales which barely succeeded those of their debut album, mostly because Andy's (Drums, Coffee and Cigarettes) parent's were not interested at all. The album, however, included the suggestive S/M trackYour Love Is Stranger than Mine and the Sharon Stone tribute track, Ice Pick, which featured a 20 minutes solo of distorted, untuned violin.  http://www.magenta.co.il/camel/humour/sample.wav" rel="nofollow - Listen to a sound sample here

While I Can Lick was just a showcase of bad taste, its runner up, Nude, set new standards for futile attempts at art. Llama's new misfit sold so poorly, the record company decided to pay them money for NOT recording anymore.

But, this is not the end of our story. Between 1979 and 1989 there were three hundred and twenty two releases of compilations and collections of Llama's early efforts, some of them double or triple boxed sets. Observing this, Bruce (guitar, keyboards, drums, percussion, bass, flute, mandolin, ukelele, didjeridoo, vocals) decided it was about time to reunite the old band. This came about in early 1990, and has been a tremendous success ever since. Llama Hairdressing, the band's publishing company, has since produced 21 live double CD releases, all recorded during the band's two-nights-only tour of Antarctica (the first gig took place at the south pole, the second in a Polar Bear community, which turned out to be the band's final performance.)

Llama's story was almost over, but... In 1995 it was dug out of its grave by the Bag-O-Rats Record Company who released a 5 CD set entitled Harbour Those Tears as a tribute to Llama. The songs were mostly MIDI sequences downloaded from the Internet and then recorded while being played live through a PC speaker. Apparently the 3rd and the 4th CDs were repeated recordings of the first two ones, and the 5th CD (sub-titled 'Rare Tracks') featured other bands' music. Bag-O-Rats were indeed clever in estimating no one will notice the fraud, as one couldn't remain listening after 5 minutes of this. The CD set includes a rare unreleased track, salvaged from the tapes of the metallic I Can Lick...period: a one-note-song called Watching the Bondage.

Ofir Z. Tracy 1997