Ted Milton emerges as a true original in a world awash with recycled ideas.

An artist, poet, and musical innovator, his work spans performance, visual art, and literary creation. In this revealing interview, Milton reflects on his journey from Nigerian nights under colonial skies, immersed in the rhythmic pulse of distant drumming, to the founding of Blurt and beyond. He discusses his daring projects, memorable collaborations, and the evolution of his multifaceted creative career. Milton invites us to explore a life lived at the intersection of art, music, and unyielding creative spirit.

“A psycho-funk, afro-punk, fake no-wave, pogo-jazz trio”

Kornel: Zagreb-based artist Igor Hofbauer Hof, who is connected to the cult club Močvara, has illustrated four of your releases, with a fifth cover on the way for the upcoming album. He has also created many Blurt posters and included you in some of his other drawings. It seems like there is mutual inspiration between you two. How did you end up working with him so frequently, and how did you connect?

Ted Milton: I hope you’ll be able to reproduce the cartoon Hof did of me climbing out of the boot of a car and ending up in a bath with two young ladies! Guess we must have bumped into each other at one or more of the shows at Močvara during the days when my basic diet was one going on two bottles of Jim Beam a day, so you can imagine I don’t remember much from that period. I have the feeling that the last time our paths crossed was in Paris. It could have been at least 15 years ago. Yes! Hof is a genius! And it’s possible he saw something in my work that, on occasion, inspired him to produce brilliant posters and artwork for our releases.

Kornel: One of your Zagreb shows was described as “pogo jazz noir,” a term you later used for other performances. Does this description best capture what Blurt is all about?

Hof again! “Pogo Jazz Noir” appeared on a poster he designed for one of our shows. I’d never come across the term before. Yes, it did and does chime with our approach. Yes, indeed! However, we had been used to marketing ourselves as a psycho-funk, afro-punk, fake no-wave, pogo-jazz trio.

Klemen: Would you elaborate on the main idea behind the formation of Blurt? Do you feel that you still follow the same concept?

The main idea behind forming Blurt was that after more than a decade confined within the puppet theatre, I became frustrated and needed to break free to confront people face to face. When I was suddenly struck by the sound of a saxophone, the band formed almost immediately; what had to come out simply did. As for sticking to the same concept, it’s all about one thing leading to another—also, “Thus Spoke Zarathustra.”

Kornel: You once had a music-theatrical performance with Sam Britton called In Kharms Way, which used texts by Daniil Kharms. What does Kharms mean to you, and when and how did you discover him?

I’ve always been keen on Russian literature. I can’t tell you how or when I came across Kharms.

The first time I met Sam, he proposed we make a piece using Beckett’s texts. I insisted on Kharms instead, so we constructed a show with me reciting his texts, playing some sax, and a sequence with puppets, while Sam provided the music electronically.

What does Kharms mean to me? I can only suggest your readers check him out. Then they’ll know the reason why.

Kornel: You began publishing your poetry at a very young age. Your first poetry book, Mungo, was published in 1963, and you were also included in the renowned poetry collection Children of Albion: Poetry of the Underground in Britain, published in 1969. How important is your poetry to Blurt as a band, and who are some of your favorite poets?

One of the first songs we ever recorded, ‘The Ruminant Plinth,’ used a text written years before the band began. Poetry and songwriting—it’s much the same to me.

Favorite poets? I don’t often read poetry. Short stories are my preferred format. I love Raymond Carver’s poetry. Mayakovsky too!

Klemen: You’ve created art objects and installations, and your work has been featured in prestigious collections. How do you approach these projects differently from your musical and literary work?

As a fully paid-up dilettante, I am, by definition, free to dabble in whatever medium takes my fancy.

Kornel: Blurt has been associated with many labels over the years, including Hungarian Bahia Records, which released two of your albums. How did this collaboration come about, and are there any plans to reissue those two albums (‘Magic Moments’ and ‘Celebrating The Bespoke Cell Of Little Ease’) on vinyl?

That’s a good idea—to reissue those albums on vinyl. Bahia? I’m not exactly sure how that partnership started. We used to play in Tiloz in the ’80s and enjoyed significant popularity in Hungary for a while.

Klemen: I would love it if you could delve into the making of your Blurt debut. What are some of your strongest memories from recording it?

The first release was one side of a double album called, I think, ‘The Factory Quartet.’ Those were the first recordings made on Brother Jake’s 4-track Teac. The first full album came next—’Blurt in Berlin’—which comprised a live recording at a Rock Against Junk concert in Berlin. May I refer back to the bottles of Jim Beam I’ve already confessed to and say that my memories of these early days are not strong—they don’t exist!

Klemen: Do you feel that it opened doors for your future ventures in album making?

We’d got the bug by then.

Kornel: In his autobiography, Eric Clapton mentioned hanging out with you in 1965 and described you as follows: “Ted was the most extraordinary man. A poet and a visionary … he was the first person I ever saw physically interpreting music … to enact it with his entire being, dancing and employing facial expressions to interpret what he was hearing. Watching him, I understood for the first time how you could really live music, how you could listen to it and completely make it come alive, so that it was part of your life. It was a real awakening.” Can you comment on this and share some of your memories from the 1960s in the UK, particularly regarding the music and art scenes?

“How you could really live music…” If anybody lived music, it was Eric in Cream! See some of those live shows on YouTube—unparalleled intensity!

Memories of the ’60s… Jesus! Do me a favor! Was I really alive then?

Kornel: You are known for your charismatic stage presence, somewhat akin to Captain Beefheart. Are you a fan of Beefheart, and did you have the opportunity to see any of his shows back in the day?

Not a fan, no. His texts are sometimes brilliant, but I don’t like his vocals. Was he influenced by Wolf? Maybe. But I’m a massive fan of the latter—’Smokestack Lightning’! Have to hear it every day!

Kornel: When describing Blurt, journalists often mention James Chance, who recently passed away. Do you see any similarities between his music and yours?

Guess I’ve more in common with him than with Taylor Swift, that’s for sure. Funny thing is, the first review we ever got in the music press put me in the context of James Chance and Captain Beefheart—I’d not heard of either of them. Rushed down to the record shop and played them both. Something, for sure, yes…

<a href="https://blurt-tedmilton.bandcamp.com/album/my-mother-was-a-friend-of-an-enemy-of-the-people">My Mother Was a Friend of an Enemy of the People by BLURT</a>

Klemen: You grew up in a variety of places, including Africa and Canada. How did these different environments shape your artistic vision and creative process?

Pre-teen years in Nigeria—under the colonial mosquito net all night long, listening to drumming from a nearby island. Who knows? Canada—very young at the time indeed. First icicles in the heart!

Klemen: You started with puppetry before delving into music and poetry.

As I have already mentioned, one thing leads to another. Someone who’d seen many of my puppet performances said—after witnessing the first-ever Blurt show—”Can’t see the difference…”

Kornel: You founded Blurt with your brother Jake, who played in the psychedelic prog band Quintessence during the 1960s. The drumming style in Quintessence is quite different from Blurt’s hypnotic beats. How did Jake transition his style, and was it influenced by you?

Different context brought about a different approach. “Tribal,” it’s been called. Yes, he slept in the same room under his own mosquito net!

Kornel: Blurt is renowned for its distinctive guitar riffs, often described as repetitive, minimalistic, or hypnotic. This approach was quite original and brave, especially given the musical landscape at the time. Your first guitarist, Pete Creese, started this style, and others followed in their own ways. What is your opinion on this evolution?

Think of the succession of guitar players in the band as a kind of relay race, where a guitar pick is handed on instead of a baton!

Kornel: You play the saxophone very expressively. Do you have any saxophone heroes? If so, who are they?

Of course, (early) Ornette is number one, and Dolphy on alto is right up there too! But then there’s Junior Walker and myriad other players, all with distinctive voices. The jazz scene is chockablock with musicians who can play Charlie Parker faster than Charlie could play himself—but do you ever know who it is playing?

Kornel: You collaborated with the Swiss band Goz Of Kermeur, who are not as well-known today as they deserve to be. Can you share some memories of working with them?

Not with the band as such, I don’t recall, but with one of the members, Adrien Kessler, who played (and plays) the stand-up bass. He joined us on The Blurt Big Band Tour. He lives in Geneva, and it was a great pleasure to meet him again when we played there last year.

Kornel: You were acquainted with the late Slovenian musician and activist Marko Brecelj. What can you share about your experiences with him?

Marko! Larger than life! (But no longer, alas…) We played several times in his youth club venue in Koper. Once, he went on to introduce the band—we were sitting outside the venue, waiting to go on. We could hear Marko “introducing the band.” It went on and on. We could hear a lot of laughter. After about half an hour, we finally got to go on—he’d upstaged us!

Another time, in his minuscule—and by that, I mean the smallest vehicle I’ve ever been in—a dilapidated Fiat 500. A terrifying ride down the wrong side of a motorway, with him talking to me and not looking where he was going…

And there’s a video somewhere of him—wearing his Chinese coolie straw hat—firing darts at the officials up on their stage during a council meeting. Marko’s mission was to upset the applecart…

Klemen: Are there any new artistic directions or projects you’re excited about?

You might get to find out about them on www.tedmilton.net and IG @tedmiltonblurt.

A 12″ single, ‘The Meccano Giraffe,’ will be out April 30th on All City Records. Here are the (heavily influenced by the great Russian poet Mayakovsky) lyrics:

The Mechanical Giraffe

The Meccano Giraffe!
Last gasp! Last wheeze!
Poleaxing the nuts & bolts
of its knees!
Look!
Now lying on its side
It cries:
(as a molten metal tear slides)
Comrades!
It is for you I die!
So trigger your sky!
High Muscovite Muse!
Nowt to loose!
Choose
Tractors to Elysium!
Smirnoff the zipped-up clouds!
Be proud!
Canata the Bolshvic Oblivion!