I can’t truly pinpoint when I first met John Winstanley, but in self-published 2014 memoir, Unsigned Unscene, he mentions a late summer 2002 news story I wrote in my Chorley Guardian newspaper days that created a spark, about a dozen or so lads from that Lancashire market town frustrated at being regularly asked to move on by local police for congregating during school holidays, suggesting they had nothing to do.

That tale proved a red rag to John’s inner bull, this grass roots music promoter and fanzine writer – at that point recently involved with a battle of the bands competition at Chorley Community Centre – writing an open letter to the paper, stressing how little things had changed from his own formative days in nearby Euxton, where he moved when he was six, eager to do something about it, this somewhat reluctant community campaigner involving Labour MP Lindsay Hoyle, now best known as the House of Commons speaker, this family man throwing his own precious spare time into new community initiatives, becoming something of a local music and culture champion in the process.

My own archive included CD recordings put my way back in the day of two bands he promoted, Chorley punks Let’s Not Lose Mars to the Commies and Burnley’s Pretendgirlfriend, while he brought legendary former Sex Pistol Glen Matlock to the North Bar, Blackburn. And I’m not sure he ever took his foot off the pedal in his promotional duties. If you’ve met John, you’ll know there’s no such thing as a five-minute chat on such matters, his passion for local music and arts these days more geared towards helping developing the area’s writing talent.

While I’ve always looked to spread the word about less feted and more obscure bands, I reckon John beats me hands down there. ‘You remember Rick from Fatal Carcass, right?’ Erm, the name rings a bell, John. ‘They became Swamp Logic.’ Ah, of course. Okay, not strictly the right names (although I quite like those names just plucked from the air), but often, I’ll have little idea about some of the bands he’s raving about, but admire his passion and belief, one that suggests he knows his subject well and these outfits not far from my doorstep will be worth a listen. And while my roots were South-East and it’s only really in the last dozen years or so that I’ve immersed myself in the North-West indie and alternative scene, John was there way back, a day-job in financial services back then seemingly somewhat removed from his commitment and understanding of that scene, something he calls ‘a beautiful distraction’.

That was evident from the guests at his Lancashire Rocks: Chorley Music and Youth Culture in the Noughties exhibition launch event at Chorley Library on Saturday, the assembled guests getting a brief ‘in a nutshell’ stroll down the path – more a ginnel really, given the territory – of local talent, John still shining a spotlight on a largely unsigned underground ‘unscene’.

I learned a fair bit over a mere hour and a half of top entertainment (as Ted Chippington would put it), the assembled acts suggesting John’s eyes and ears remain on that promotional footing. I was also reminded of his own music story, as set out in the afore-mentioned memoir, our host out front, covering key moments from his youth and later days as band manager and concert promoter, music journalist (chiefly for the Pogo ‘til I Die fanzine) and Chorley FM community radio DJ, while eager to let us in on a few new names.

His 2014 memoir largely covered his time promoting various genres of local music in the first decade of the 21st century in and around Chorley, Blackburn and Preston, but we also discovered his own dalliance with dance and performance in the early years, this Okehampton, Devon-born lad who moved to Bridgwater, Somerset at two and a half, finding himself immersed in dance hall culture, with his dad – from Wigan – a motor mechanic by day and piano teacher and organist by night, and his mum – from Birkenhead – soon enrolling him into ballroom classes, something he mentioned in brief by way of introducing Chorley lad made good, Clive Donaldson, who I’ll get on to shortly.

John’s folks soon moved back to Lancashire, his dad enticed home by the chance of more work on that club and cabaret lounge circuit by night. And while in time his father left the family home, his mum continued to encourage John’s interest in music and dance, in time immersing him in the working men’s club scene when home from his Fylde coast boarding school, part of that story also told in his contribution to my own Wild! Wild! Wild! A People’s History of Slade (Spenwood Books, 2023), the appeal of the Black Country’s finest for John proving something of a gateway to a national scene. In fact, his next major passion in music came when he heard The Jam, the story of which he’s telling me more about for the book I’m now working on about that iconic outfit (see the foot of this feature).

There’s only so much I can tell in this feature, but John – whose last five years of high school and sixth form education were spent in Leyland, which became my base a few years later – remained enthralled by the arts world, and while attempts to gain national stardom as a disco dancer ultimately fell through, there would in time be a regular semi-pro drumming gig on the working men’s club circuit and a brief foray into amateur dramatics. Meanwhile, his love of Northern Soul sat alongside an appreciation of punk, and by the time he was working in Barrow-in-Furness in the mid-‘80s, a passion for the unsigned local music scene took hold, something rekindled after he’d settled down and had children, his ‘90s days with a young family in tow in time giving rise to a desire to get back involved in all that.

He tells that story in detail in Unsigned Unscene (in fact, his follow-up, Unwritten, Unread is expected to land later this year), but it seems that reaching the landmark age of 60 also made a big impression on him – not least having lost some dear friends along the way from that scene down the years – and a house move in more recent times led him to rediscover so many boxes of memorabilia and what-have-you from those promo years that he felt moved to – as part of a downsizing operation – contacting Lancashire Archives’ local studies archivist Hannah Turner, ultimately leading to this current exhibition, the information boards now on show upstairs at Chorley Library – written by John, working with Hannah – until June, while his newly-donated collection is now held within the county’s archives centre on Bow Lane, Preston, and available online.

As John – also a key player with the Chorley & District Writers’ Circle and as secretary for the Lancashire Authors Association – put it, “Through this exhibition I share my experiences, which could have happened to anyone in Lancashire who had an interest in live music. The pictures and many hundreds more, along with documents and recordings – audio and video – of the venues, musicians and the fans, are now held at Lancashire Archives and Local History.”

Saturday afternoon’s launch certainly proved to be an apt celebration of that handover to the Red Rose archives, John putting on a number of acts that helped show and tell the assembled guests just where he’s at now. And his love of Spain down the years was wonderfully reflected in an opening set from Mark Duckworth and Ted Duprez, aka Duckworth & Duprez, two talented guitarists bringing a flamenco-like energy and evocative backdrop to the proceedings, this scribe wondering if this was the sound of John’s adopted Chorley hill country setting these days. In fact, they’re from Clitheroe, but the same applies, I reckon.

Then came that hint of John’s dance hall days ahead of a short set by entertainer, performer and fellow promoter Clive Donaldson. Recognise the name? Well, a fair few of us certainly realised when he donned his trademark wig and became alter-ego Wiggy, this amiable Chorley lad a resident dancer on late-night weekend Granada TV show The Hitman and Her in the late-‘80s/early ‘90s, regularly hogging the camera shots in the Pete Waterman and Michaela Strachan-hosted show, filmed at night spots around the UK, that late-night theatre irregularly chanced upon by this punter, post-nights out back in Surrey and while visiting Lancashire, my own clubbing days already mostly behind me by then.

These days, Clive still has the moves – as proved in a breath-taking routine alongside two of his former proteges, now running their own dance schools – and is a music artist in his own right, giving us a brief hint of that with a soulful number, accompanying himself on keyboard.

From there, we also saw how John keeps his eye on the ball regarding local acts, Kayleigh Hall and Sarah Tutin providing separate two-song sets, both talented guitar-playing singer-songwriters with plenty to offer. Kayleigh’s from the Rossendale Valley, and recently saw her rather splendid ‘Where I Was’ single – featured on the day – played on BBC Music Introducing for Lancashire and Cumbria. As for Sarah, from Bacup, her rich, bluesy and soulful tones also impressed. But time was against us, and before we knew it, the last act were on, Wigan’s All4One bringing plenty of smiles and laughs with their Lankie twang take on The Andrews Sisters, these local lasses – four sisters, and my, couldn’t you tell – offering engaging wartime boogie-woogie, close harmony vocals and accomplished poetic touches in pastiches of ‘Chattanooga Choo-Choo’ and ‘Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree’ (‘Don’t go walking into Chorley bars with anyone else but me,’ they sang). Guaranteed to make any retro-flavoured spring and summer gala swing, I’d venture.

And I think it’s fair to say the assembled got out of this event just what John intended, that passion and feeling he has for it all properly conveyed to one and all.  

John Winstanley’s Lancashire Rocks: Chorley Music and Youth Culture in the Noughties exhibition display can be found upstairs at Chorley Library until June 2024, in the Union Street library’s local history department, which is open on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 9.15am to 12.15pm and 2pm until 5pm, and Saturdays from 2pm until 4pm. For more information, head here.

For more about Kayleigh Hall, head to her Facebook and Instagram pages. For Sarah Tutin’s Facebook page, head here. And you can check out Duckworth & Duprez via this Facebook link.

• John Winstanley first caught The Jam live at Reading Festival in 1978, and also got to see them at Blackburn’s King George’s Hall. Did you ever see them live and would like to tell Malcolm Wyatt your story for publication in a book coming out this year? If so, please drop him a line via thedayiwasthere@gmail.com