Into 2016 … and 103,000 hits can’t be bad

Going Underground: Rick Buckler, down in the tube station (Photo: Tony Briggs)

Going Underground: Rick Buckler, down in the tube station (Photo: Tony Briggs)

As the hands reached midnight on New Year’s Eve, the minions behind the scenes at writewyattuk.com polished off the last of the Irish cream (explaining at least one of those empty bottles that next morning) and got to work on a selection box of quotes from interviews on this site from 2015, when we attracted a best-ever 50,929 page views – taking our running total to 103,104 hits since a speculative toe into the worldwide web’s waters 45 months earlier on March 29th, 2012.

While I’m playing the number game, all bar 8,000 of those hits came in the last two years, and (before you all doze off) those figures haven’t dipped under 2,500 per month for the past 18 months. As I’ve put it before, it’s hardly a viral concern, but certainly encouraging, even if my wordpress hosts don’t reckon we attract enough traffic to invite any advertising yet. I need to act on that front soon though. Something has to give – I spend far too long here without it being an additional source of income. Many writers are poorly paid for their craft (please don’t quote Jo Rowling’s earnings at me, because her success offers a rare example of a Willy Wonka golden ticket), and a lot of writing professionals I’ve got to mingle with these last few years remain second wage-earners in their household. But there comes a point where I may have to (reluctantly) jettison this part of my working life if I’m to keep a roof over my children’s heads. Just saying.

Highlights of the last 12 months? Well, again I’ve spoken to a lot of my heroes and admired authors, comics and musicians, and the stats show my biggest hits were this blog’s interviews with Happy Mondays frontman Shaun Ryder and The Jam’s drumming legend Rick Buckler (both amassing more than 3,000 views), Stranglers frontman Baz Warne (affording more than 2,500 views), Squeeze songwriting genius Chris Difford (more than 2,000 views), Goodies/radio comedy icon Graeme Garden (1,500-plus views) and comedy/folk icon Mike Harding (more than 1,000 views). There were also impressive stats for features on Undertones frontman Paul McLoone, multi-hatted Archdruid Julian Cope, crossover classical artist Lucy Kay, go-to wildlife aficionado Steve Backshall, and the mighty-voiced Elkie Brooks and Carol Decker.

You can also factor in a number of the previous year’s interviews still picking up major traffic, not least those featuring Canadian comic Katherine Ryan, Stranglers bass legend Jean-Jacques Burnel and From the Jam’s Russell Hastings. And there was also a fair bit of interest in this blog’s feature/interviews with Slade’s Dave Hill, Echo & the Bunnymen’s Will Sergeant, Icicle Works’ Ian McNabb, Status Quo veteran Francis Rossi, Band Aid creator Midge Ure, self-styled Goth detective Noel Fielding, music and broadcasting legends Jools Holland, Mark Radcliffe, Tom Robinson and Rick Wakeman, Cast inspiration John Power, ex-Strangler Hugh Cornwell, Inspiral Carpets/Rainkings’ Stephen Holt, Heaven 17’s Martyn Ware, The Chameleons’ Mark Burgess, Milltown Brothers’ Matt Nelson, Dodgy’s Mathew Priest, Smoke Fairies’ Katherine Blamire, country noir’s Gretchen Peters, The Nouvelles’ Johnny Jackson, Big Red Bus’ Dave Spence, comic actress Crissy Rock, chief Dubious Brother Monty Mottram, esteemed authors Cathy Cassidy, Frank Cottrell Boyce and Kate Long, performance poets Attila the Stockbroker and Benjamin Zephaniah, and Motown legend Martha Reeves.

Many more features didn’t quite get the coverage I expected, not least a few comedy stars (stand up Bill Bailey, Lucy Beaumont, Jo Caulfield, Alan Davies, Justin Moorhouse and Dave Spikey), although – as opposed to the afore-mentioned Katherine Ryan – only the last two bothered to spread the word. But I’m also sure there are a few features here that will finally get wider recognition as word spreads (including the pieces with Wolf Alice’s Joff Oddie, Polly & the Billets Doux’s Polly Perry, Finch & The Moon’s Lee Parry, Buzzcocks’ Steve Diggle, The Cribs’ Gary Jarman, Leftfield’s Neil Barnes, and Public Service Broadcasting mastermind J Willgoose Esq.).

Anyway, I had diarised a cobbled-together celebration of this blog’s 2015 product for last week, but only returned from a festive visit to my old Surrey haunts in the late afternoon of the final day of the year, then had to overcome soggy broadband connections in flood-hit Lancashire. So here we are now instead, a few days later, with a taster of what we’ve showcased this past year from interviews I’ve conducted. Many appeared in the Lancashire Evening Post over that period, but there are a fair few more, and you’ll find a link in each case taking you back to the original.

So, albeit a little late, I wish you all a Happy New Year from everyone at writewyattuk.com (yep, that’s still just me really), and thank you for your new or continued support. Furthermore, feel free to stay with us in 2016, as it’s bound to be another special one (not in a Jose Mourinho style, mind). I won’t promise anything specific now, but let’s just say big plans are afoot.

And now that’s out of the way, grab yourself a cuppa (and maybe something to dunk in it) or something stronger, because here we go …

January

Lotta Bottle: We'll drink to that, Carol

Lotta Bottle: We’ll drink to that, Carol

Carol Decker (T’Pau) on the camaraderie of the ‘80s retro circuit

“I’m not in the industry with a capital ‘I’ anymore. We’re in our own little bubble now. I’ve come to be proud of myself, doing shows like Rewind with people like Tony Hadley and other pals like Martin Fry and Kim Wilde. We were the big-hitters of our day, and we’re still going strong. I’m proud of that. You get people who’ll knock it and say ‘give it up’, but I’ll just shrug it off. That’s the downside of social media – everybody’s a keyboard warrior and you get some nasty people who live to troll. But I’m proud of myself and my friends, and I’ve been a professional singer for 27 years, earned a good living, and provide for my family. The phone’s still ringing and the bookings still come in, so I must have got something right!”

Elkie Brooks (born Elaine Bookbinder) on that distinctive voice

“I’ve always had a husky voice, from being a little girl. My mother’s friends used to call me Tallulah Bankhead. I remember my headmistress saying, ‘You sound like a boy, Bookbinder!” I could never get in the school choir because it would always be too high for me. But I discovered a lot of black singers when I was 11 or 12 who also sang in my key. So I thought, ‘Yeah, I’m not the only one!’”

Uniform Guide: Julian Cope

Uniform Guide: Julian Cope

Julian Cope (The Teardrop Explodes) on his penchant for dressing up in old military gear

“I think that in order to make the best impression, it’s best to disguise myself as an invader. Also, I’d ask, ‘Who put the fist in pacifist?’ It’s very important not to fall into middle age, but constantly try something new that you didn’t know how to do. Pablo Picasso said, ‘I am always doing that which I can not do, in order that I may learn how to do it.’ When I finally learned to drive at the age of 34, there was a certain sense of freedom. I still live with that sense of freedom, and I’m always trying to serve new apprenticeships. Punk taught me to adopt an attitude of positivity, then you can achieve something. And what makes me more useful than most is that I just won’t be beaten.”

Jo Caulfield on falling into stand-up comedy in the mid-1980s

“People are very organised with their lives these days, but I wasn’t at all. By complete chance, I fell into comedy. I liked being funny, as a waitress or behind a bar. I realised that was quite good currency and got a thrill out of making mates laugh. But it wasn’t until a friend did an open mic. comedy spot that I went along. I remember seeing a video of Steve Martin. Before then, apart from Dave Allen, it was men in shirts telling jokes. None of it rang true. But when I saw Steve I thought, ‘He’s just an idiot – anyone can do this!’ not realising he was very skilful, but made it look that way.”

February

Lee Parry (Finch and the Moon) on the influences that brought him and partner Caitlin Gilligan together – from the Everly Brothers to Woody Guthrie

“Those harmony-driven influences were a big part of my growing up. And with Caitlin, her brother plays that kind of set, and with her parents that kind of stuff is played around the house quite a bit. There’s a nice kind of organic, freedom-fighting kind of influence there.”

Guitar Icon: Will Sergeant in early live action with The Bunnymen

Guitar Icon: Will Sergeant in early live action with The Bunnymen

Will Sergeant (Echo and the Bunnymen) on recording Crocodiles at Rockfield Studios, South Wales

“It was probably the happiest time of my life, until all the usual marriage, kids and the rest of that. We’d never really experienced that before. We were just scumbags from Liverpool, but then all of a sudden treated by nice people. You’d go to the fridge and it would be stocked full of grub, rather than getting by on half a tin of beans. It was just brilliant. Ultimately, you pay for everything, but we didn’t really think of that at the time.”

J. Willgoose Esq. (Public Service Broadcasting) on the band’s second album, The Race for Space and a mission to ‘teach the lessons of the past through the music of the future’

“For me, the interesting stuff happens between the lines of the past and present. It’s just reframing the past, putting it in a more modern context, I guess. That all sounds pretty pretentious and highbrow though. Really, we’re just sticking a beat underneath satellite noises.”

BBC Favourite: Gretchen Peters (Photo: http://www.gretchenpeters.com/)

BBC Favourite: Gretchen Peters (Photo: http://www.gretchenpeters.com/)

Gretchen Peters on being championed by the BBC by the likes of Bob Harris, Jools Holland and Terry Wogan

“They’ve been very supportive and helpful. You’re so lucky here to have people like that who champion music they personally love. It’s not everywhere you go that presenters can share what really moves them musically. I’ve found an audience so willing to embrace me, because I’m a bit of a hybrid. I’m a bit of a mutt, coming from a lot of different musical places – that didn’t seem to work for me as well in the States in 1996 as it did here. All the qualities that ensured I wasn’t a mainstream country artist there work for me in the UK.”

Johnnie Jackson (The Nouvelles) on his band’s relocation from Belfast and relaunch in Wigan, via Manchester

“Our whole priority is just avoiding this whole X-Factor circus. All sorts of people seem to be sucked into this stardom idea. It’s not what we’re about at all. We’re a purist indie band. One venue recently said, ‘These guys are going to be playing arenas at £70 per head soon’, but that’s not us! It nearly got a bit too much for us, leading to our hiatus. There were lots of labels around and we weren’t sure if it was the right moment. So when we came back, we decided to launch ourselves in Greater Manchester. And it’s been a master-stroke. You get an element of peace in Wigan, you can focus on it all very easily and don’t get caught up in things. It was fantastic in Manchester, but the master-stroke was to get out, take our time and see if we really wanted this, away from the journalists and massive fan-base.”

March

Kazoo Kings: Old farts Graeme Garden and Barry Cryer on the set of BBC Radio 4's I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue

Kazoo Kings: Old farts Graeme Garden and Barry Cryer on the set of BBC Radio 4’s I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue

Graeme Garden, radio comedy stalwart and former Goodies star, on his Lancashire roots

“I didn’t really see my Dad for a couple of years, he was abroad in the Medical Corps, picking up the pieces at the end of the war. But when he got back he moved to Preston and got a job there, we all moved down, and he and my Mum stayed for the rest of their lives. He was doing orthopaedic work and because of his war service was very interested in trauma surgery. One of the reasons he stayed was because of the Preston bypass, the first motorway, thinking there would be quite a lot of challenging trauma work. When he was running the casualty department at the old PRI, they were the first to put radios in the ambulances and send out to medical staff. I went away to boarding school when I was about eight, just coming back for holidays, but the family were there right until my Mum died two or three years ago. We lived just outside Broughton, and I went to the church school there. Funnily enough I was watching some Morris dancers the other day in the Cotswolds and one came up to me wearing a cheese on his head and said, ‘Do you remember me?’ I said I didn’t think so, and he said we were at Broughton School together. It’s a small world.”

Frank Cottrell Boyce, screenwriter turned children’s author, on being inspired by literature at school

“I think it was around year six when I picked up the bug, doing that thing where you can make people laugh without being there. I had an amazing teacher, Sister Paul at my primary school in Rainhill, who if I wrote something funny, would read it out to the class. I would sit at the back, and even to this day if I’ve got a film out or a play or whatever, I’ll just sit at the back and think it’s just like being back in Sister Paul’s class.”

Library Legacy: Cathy Cassidy (Photo: Louise Llewelyn)

Library Legacy: Cathy Cassidy (Photo: Louise Llewelyn)

Cathy Cassidy, best-selling children’s author, on how libraries opened her eyes to reading and writing

“I would go to visit libraries with my Dad and come out with armfuls of books. That was such an education to me, and the library gave me all that for nothing. If you didn’t like a book you could just take it back the next week. I discovered so many things, unveiled by that ability to just go in and pick something randomly off a shelf. I could never have become the person I am today without libraries, yet they’re under threat right now – including the three libraries I regularly visited. That breaks my heart. They say kids don’t read these days but we know different to that, not least through these children’s book show events and just how much it means to these children.”

Baz Warne (The Stranglers), on acceptance by the band and their fans as the front-man in his legendary outfit

“They made me feel welcome and a part of it right from the word go. As far as they’re concerned, this is The Stranglers, and this line-up’s now been on the go nine years and we’ve done more than we’ve ever done, with the last two albums very well-received and JJ (Burnel) maintaining Giants is probably one of the best.”

Rasta Folkie: Benjamin Zephaniah gets serious

Rasta Folkie: Benjamin Zephaniah gets serious

Benjamin Zephaniah, Brummie author and poet, on choosing to settle in rural Lincolnshire

“I’ve always gone on about multi-culturalism, and multi-cultural Britain means I shouldn’t just have to live in areas that are seen as multi-cultural. I have the right to live in a small village, even if I made a few jokes at first, saying I was the only Black in the village. I’ve been in this small village just outside Spalding for some time, and often meet people who say – if they’re relaxed enough around me – I’m the first Black person I’ve met. There are people there who have never been out of the area. I’ve a close friend who does my handiwork who’s never been out of that area. People tend to think those that live in the countryside are all rich and privileged. But rural poverty is brutal, probably even more so that inner city poverty. If the lights go out, you can meet on the corner in an inner city. In the countryside it really goes dark, and places really close. If you miss a bus, you’ve had it! There are lots of suicides too, lots of quiet drug problems, and real issues.”

Attila the Stockbroker on his reinvention as a performance poet 30 years ago

“I’d been a bass player in punk bands, but I’d always been writing poetry and songs on the mandolin and wanted to earn my living out of it. My parents were both talented performers, and I just got this idea it would work getting up on stage between bands and shouting poetry. That’s what I did, and at the time I was doing this job in the city for a stockbroker’s company, hence this stage name. I went down quite well and it wasn’t very long before I was on the front cover of Melody Maker and getting sessions for John Peel.”

Sea View: Wayne Hemingway returns to his Morecambe roots

Sea View: Wayne Hemingway returns to his Morecambe roots

Wayne Hemingway, fashion designer, on his continuing love for hometown Morecambe

“It’s not quite back to the vibrancy it had when I was growing up, but it’s certainly in a better position than quite a few seaside towns. It also has something quite a few of those don’t have – that amazing view across to the Lakes. There are very few things more dramatic than watching the tide coming in and going out at Morecambe Bay at the speed it does. And it’s blessed with a pretty good climate and a lovely long seafront you can cycle or walk along.”

April

Rick Buckler on the need to heal wounds with The Jam bandmates Paul Weller and Bruce Foxton

“I’m actually sick to death of all that griping. To be honest, a lot of it has come from Paul’s camp. I don’t know why, but I don’t really even want to go there. This was really just from my point of view and the success of the band. It obviously had a big effect ton my life as well as Bruce’s and Paul’s but whenever I talk to fans there is this real connection that it had an effect on them as well. They were part of The Jam as much as we were. I think that connection was really important and don’t think you see that with many other bands.”

Crissy Rock, actress and stand-up comic, on being discovered by film director Ken Loach for a key role in Ladybird, Ladybird

“I just thought I was going to be an extra. I’m just dead down to earth. My grandmother always said, ‘Earn respect, don’t demand it’. I’m an ordinary person who just happens to have an unusual job.”

Derry's Finest: From the left, Damian O'Neill, Billy Doherty, Paul McLoone, Michael Bradley, John O'Neill

Derry’s Finest: Damian O’Neill, Billy Doherty, Paul McLoone, Michael Bradley, John O’Neill

Paul McLoone (The Undertones), Feargal Sharkey’s replacement, on hearing the band for the first time in 1978

“I was around 11 when Teenage Kicks came out and my first memory of the band is actually not getting to see them! They were scheduled to play a show in a small working men’s club in the Bogside, Derry, where I grew up. People were very excited about this free show, but I wasn’t allowed to go, because it would be full of ‘those punks’. I also remember a friend called Colm who had the Teenage Kicks EP and brought it to Mass. We were sat at the back looking at it. It had a couple of expletives on the back written on a wall, so there was this frisson of transgression about reading that in that setting! I was also fascinated by the fact that I’d never seen an EP before, the fact that it had two tracks on each side. What sorcery was this? Then there were those first Top of the Pops appearances. Even then I had an idea I was going to be a musician, an embryonic notion that this was what I wanted to do. Seeing these guys from your street up there proved to be an incredible lightning bolt. It absolutely short-circuited this idea that it couldn’t be you! These guys were not just from Derry, but were really ordinary guys who hadn’t even dressed up. There was this really powerful sense of, ‘That could be me!’ It was a tremendously important thing that they achieved. Let’s not labour the point, but Derry was going through really terrible times. Yet this was such a positive thing.”

Mike Harding on making it big as a comedian and folk singer

“Years ago I was having a pint with Billy Connolly after a play I did for Manchester Youth Theatre. We were talking about someone else who’d not quite made it, despite being in the same situation as us on that folk stand-up circuit, and he said, ‘He was incredibly talented but he never went that extra mile’. The difference between genius and being very good is sometimes 10,000 hours of practise. I’ often sit down and work really hard at what I was trying to do with a show. I wouldn’t write down every word but I’d always have some kind of plan, so even though it looked like I was making it all up as I went along I knew where I was.”

May

Two's Company: Katherine Blamire and Jessica Davies, aka Smoke Fairies

Two’s Company: Katherine Blamire and Jessica Davies, aka Smoke Fairies

Katherine Blamire (Smoke Fairies) on the band’s love of science

“Our imaginations are continually sparked by ideas of flight and space, and imagery to do with all that comes into our songs a lot. I feel like we’re always looking outwards. We’ve never been able to stop looking to the sky really. I don’t think we’re particularly scientific, although I do read a lot of books about things like string theory, trying to understand all that. I could probably cobble together some kind of spaceship, but I’m not sure how far I’d get.”

Matt Nelson (Milltown Brothers) on his band’s initial success

“We could have gone very folky or could have gone a bit more jingly-jangly. At the time everything was dominated by that whole Manchester scene, so we had to play the game really. It wasn’t a million miles from what we were doing anyway. We’d had Barney playing organ since the start. But we styled our haircuts and wore baggy trousers. Actually, my kids can barely watch the videos now.”

Stephen Holt (Inspiral Carpets/The Rainkings) on recording again with his side-project

Raining Champions: The Rainkings

Raining Champions: The Rainkings

“After Another Time, I wanted to do some new tunes. And when we recorded those first three songs they came out so well I felt we needed to do something again. After waiting a year and holding on to those, I felt they were too good not to be heard. Rather than chasing people trying to get them released, jumping through hoops and doing it on their terms … well, I’ve seen the mistakes some of the bigger labels can make and decided I can make those mistakes myself! With the Inspirals, there’s always been that get-up-and-do-it work ethic – making us think if no one else is prepared to do it, we’ll do it ourselves. It’s the old punk ethos really. So now – as The Rainkings – we’ve decided to have a go ourselves and be in control that way.”

Gary Jarman (The Cribs) on what it’s like to play in a band with his two brothers

“We’re more like best friends really. As with most siblings, we argue a lot about petty things – but nothing major. With some artistic partnerships it’s usually about a clash of egos, but I like to think the three of us are pretty free of that. We’re all on the same team. The reason we started a band was because we all had the same influences, feelings and intentions, and that’s been unwavering over the years. We couldn’t imagine being able to get on with anyone else. It’s best to be in a band with people you trust 100 per cent.”

Van Go: Polly and the Billets Doux arrive at their next destination.

Van Go: Polly and the Billets Doux arrive at their next destination.

Polly Perry (Polly and the Billets Doux) on her band’s many influences

“I think we’ll always remain a band with split personalities! We all love so many different kinds of music, and I like it that we bring in so many genres. But I feel we want to be a bit edgier, a bit heavier, take more risks, and we’re interested in bringing other sounds and rhythms in.”

June

Lucy Kay, crossover classical singer, on overcoming bullying

“I was badly bullied. I’d moved when I was four to this new city, Nottingham, and didn’t really know anyone, and nor did my Mum. We had a different accent, and I just wasn’t very good at making friends. Also, Dad had left. Sometimes children need that stability. For me, my only rock was my Mum. I was bullied from around seven upwards. It went on until my 20s, actually. I joined the Cantamus girls choir, and was with them every Friday, Saturday and Sunday. That made me unpopular and uncool, singing ‘God music’ as people saw it. By the time I was 10 or 11, people were saying they’d seen me on Songs of Praise, If I’d had any guts I’d have questioned why they were watching in the first place! At the time I was frightened, just wanted to keep my head down. People do anything to fit in, and some of those that bullied me were just doing it because others were doing it, thinking that was the way to gain power. The reason I decided to talk about all that is that my singing helped me through those bad times. That’s important for young boys and girls in that situation – if you have a passion for music or anything really, you’ve got to hold on to it. Whether you’re having a bad time at home, at school or anywhere, things like that can help. Music did it for me. I hate that it happened, but it makes you who you are.”

Jools Holland on the magic that still lives on in venues like The Empress Ballroom, Blackpool

“Blackpool has a romance to it, and is one of the most iconic towns in Britain. When you have a place where people have gathered and enjoyed themselves over the years, even when they’re not there a certain resonance stays. I think that’s happened in Blackpool, particularly at the Empress Ballroom. All those that saw big bands there and enjoyed themselves – something of that stays in the room, even when all the people have gone.”

Creative Force: Neil Barnes, the main energy behind Leftfield today

Creative Force: Neil Barnes, the main energy behind Leftfield today

Neil Barnes (Leftfield) on the latest album and where the band are today

“There’s always an honesty to the music. It’s genuine and comes from a genuine place. There’s an element of bravery too – after all this time I do feel like I’m jumping into the unknown a little. Some of the things that have happened in my life over the last two years have been very sad, and that’s reflected in the music. But it’s uplifting too. There’s a very emotional bedrock in everything I do, a genuine emotion that’s underneath it all. That’s precisely the feeling I’m trying to get across.”

Gary Taylor (New York Tourists) on his audition to join his band

“I was looking for bands and scouring the internet and they messaged me off a website, leading to this nerve-racking audition. They had all their mates in the room, around 10 people in all. There were no songs written at that stage, so I sang a Kings of Leon song, Molly’s Chambers, and that’s how it all sort of kicked off.”

July

Francis Rossi (Status Quo), on touring after all these years

“You look at the itinerary and it looks great – a few days here, then a day off. But when you’re doing it, it’s like … We go to Germany tonight, we’re back Tuesday evening, then on Thursday one of our tour buses goes to Europe and the other takes us to Preston. We’ll come out of Preston and go to a hotel, then in the morning get on a private plane we use occasionally and fly to Vienna, get in our bus again, and oh, Jeez! I’m kind of sick of travelling, although I like it when we’re actually in the bus and moving and there’s no show. My brother retires in a week or so, and said, ‘Let’s go to Italy’, but I said, ‘I don’t want to travel’. He goes, ‘Yeah! We can get a nice hotel …’ I said, ‘I don’t want to stay in a hotel!’ I’ve been living out of suitcases since I was 16. Holidays for me are pretty much coming home and being here.”

Glastonbury Heroes: Wolf Alice enjoyed a triumphant set in Somerset last weekend

No Hype: Wolf Alice

Joff Oddie (Wolf Alice) on finding success with fellow founder member Ellie Rowsell

“It’s coming up to six years since we set out, but I think we’ve done it right. A lot of bands get to a point and release an album when they’re not ready and the songs aren’t ready, and they haven’t quite got the fan-base either. They seem to think if you release an album based on hype, it will do well. But it’s been proved these last couple of years that doesn’t really work. You need that fan-base that buys tickets to come to your shows, gets involved and has enough of a narrative to get into and stay with the band.”

Martha Reeves (Martha & the Vandellas) on recording Motown classic Nowhere to Run 

“I’d returned from the road, coming back a little weary, with a bout of flu, but was called to do a session, and you don’t let anything stop you getting to that Motown mic. We’d have competitions with the producers as to who’d get the next song, and with Holland/ Dozier/ Holland the most prolific songwriters, we’d push and shove to get to them. The minute I heard it, something inside said, ‘You’ve got to sing this – this is exactly how you feel. You’ve got nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, so you better sing, however bad you feel’. I didn’t feel great, but the condition I was in was expressed completely in the deliverance of that song.”

Back Then: Steve Diggle, of Buzzcocks fame

Back Then: Steve Diggle, of Buzzcocks fame

Steve Diggle (Buzzcocks) on the writing process behind one of the band’s big hits

“Promises was my song, but I left the verses at home! There’s a demo where I’m making the verse up as I go along. Pete was by the mixing desk, so it was just me, John (Maher, drums) and Steve (Garvey, bass). He said, ‘I think I’ve got some verses for that melody’. It was going to be a socio-political song about promises made by the Government. I said, ‘You’ve turned it into a **** love song!’ Having said that, it worked out well all round. That’s the thing with lots of the songwriting. We complement each other.”

Mathew Priest (Dodgy) on his band playing more rural locations now and again

“What I love is how organic these gigs have come about. They’ve not all been devilishly planned. People tend to contact us and ask if we’ll play their local pub, and it’s generally people with Dodgy tattoos. The chap in Shrewsbury, for example, has a tattoo of us on his chest. Invariably they’re just lovely people. We’ve made lots of lovely friends, and it gives us a chance to be informal, play lots of songs from the new album, play a lot longer, and have a really good chat. At one we had a mass pop quiz, and with quite a few of these coming up, we decided to call these ‘fan gigs’, specifically getting in a lot of songs from the new album.”

August

Bass Instinct: Tom Robinson (© Jill Furmanovsky/rockarchive.com)

Bass Instinct: Tom Robinson (© Jill Furmanovsky/rockarchive.com)

Tom Robinson, punk survivor and BBC 6 Music presenter, on owning a Grey Cortina in 1979

“The first day I took it out I got into a race with some 17-year-old that had just started driving his father’s Vauxhall or something. He was racing away from the lights. The Cortina beat him, but I made the mistake – rather than going home and having a nice cup of tea – of pulling over to the side of the road to gloat as he went past. Unfortunately, he wasn’t a good driver and thought he’d drive really close and give me a scare. He rear-ended the Cortina just outside Shepherd’s Bush police station, writing it off. It had taken me about a year to get enough money to buy it too.”

Chris Difford (Squeeze) on touring and learning to get on again with songwriting partner Glenn Tilbrook

“It’s been very good for us to go out and play with the bare bones, and I think people enjoy it. We’re taking the show to America at the end of the year, so we’ll see what they make of it there. That should be an experience. I think in time you do get to understand each other much better, so the process of time has really healed a lot of wounds, and we’re getting on extremely well. So it’s all good really.”

Kate Long, on working hard to make it as a best-selling author, whatever barriers you face

“I’ve been a writer who can write when she needs to, managing to squeeze it in anywhere. I just set myself a word count and make myself get up to it. I think the less precious you can be about when and where you write, the more productive and the more practical it is, really. If you have nothing else to do other than write, you can claim whatever part of the day you like, for calling down the muse. But I’ve got children, a house, a job, and other things going on. I always have pen and paper somewhere, and if it comes to it, I’ll write on my hand. I’ve learned the hard way. If you don’t get stuff down, it vanishes. I once met a foster mum, at one point with five foster children in the house, who locked herself in the bathroom for half an hour early each morning, doing her writing then.”

Owl's That: Steve Backshall and a feathered friend prepare to tour

Owl’s That: Steve Backshall and a feathered friend prepare to tour

Steve Backshall, wildlife expert, naturalist, writer and TV presenter, on how nervous he felt first getting on a stage

“I was very, very nervous, really scared. But everyone’s always so nice and kind, and the reception’s always really positive. Eventually you get this sense of warmth from the crowd, which sets you at your ease. Now I actually quite enjoy it. It’s very different from just being out with just a couple of crew in the wild. There’s an immediacy of reaction and positivity which is immensely rewarding, particularly getting to see a whole new generation growing up to do essentially what I do for a living.”

Justin Moorhouse, comic actor/stand-up comedian, on time and again being recognised as the guy from Phoenix Knights with the tiger face-paint

“If I go somewhere with my daughter and she wants her face painted, I can’t be the one who takes her! Can you imagine it? ‘What do you want to look like?’ ‘Oh, like my Dad please!’ I’ve seen it before, face-painting at fairs, where people have actually had pictures of me“.

September

Keyboard King: Rick Wakeman lets loose (Photo: Lee Wilkinson /(http://www.lwmultimedia.co.uk/LWMultimedia.html)

Keyboard King: Rick Wakeman lets loose (Photo: Lee Wilkinson /(http://www.lwmultimedia.co.uk/LWMultimedia.html)

Rick Wakeman, keyboard wizard, prog legend and broadcasting regular, on his lesser-known past as a session musician

“My wife was only born in 1974, and when we met she knew nothing of what I did. But around three years in, Morning was Broken was played on the radio and the DJ mentioned I played piano on that. She said, “You did that? That’s one of my favourite records of all time!’ About an hour later they then played Life on Mars, and she found out I was on that too, saying, ‘Hunky Dory’s one of my favourite albums ever! I think you and I had better sit down and you can tell me whatever else you’ve played on.’”

Dave Spence (Big Red Bus) on supporting The Stone Roses

“We were given a tape and told we were supporting them the following week, and while we’d heard of them the first time we saw them was when we came off the stage at Preston Guild Hall and went back out front. We were just blown away by what they were doing. I don’t know what it held then, but the foyer wasn’t even full. It was just – and remains so – the most electric atmosphere I’d ever encountered at a live event. It was amazing, and they were riding the wave at the right time.”

Added Wisdom: Shaun Ryder (Photo: Elspeth Moore)

Added Wisdom: Shaun Ryder (Photo: Elspeth Moore)

Shaun Ryder (Happy Mondays) on his band’s Manchester gigging roots

“We played places like The Boardwalk, originally for around 300 people, then Corbieres, where we had a mad little show for around 100 people. To tell you the truth, small venues make for great rock’n’roll shows but terrified me. I can play 10,000 to 20,000 capacity venues and it doesn’t bother me – it’s showbusiness! But when you do the small venues … places like Corbieres, that’s where you got your stripes. There was no stage – you were eye-to-eye with the punters. And you’re at your most vulnerable when you’re wiggling your snake hips and someone’s staring right at you, 20 inches away.”

Alan Davies, stand-up comic and TV/radio regular, on choosing Little Victories as the title of his latest show

“Actually I wanted to call this show – following on from the previous one – Sex is Pain. But my Australian promoters asked if it might start attracting people expecting a different kind of evening. And I said, ‘That’s a fair point, well made! I’ll think of something else.’”

October

Waiting Game: Heaven 17's Glenn Gregory and Martyn Ware

Waiting Game: Heaven 17’s Glenn Gregory and Martyn Ware

Martyn Ware (Heaven 17) on the album How Men Are

“We knew we were going to have to work incredibly hard to try and top The Luxury Gap, and spent a lot of time and money on that album. To their eternal credit, Virgin basically gave us a blank cheque and said, ‘Just go for it!’ We recorded it in Air Studios and spent £300,000 on that album. That would equate to way over a million now. We just threw everything at it, and I thought it was a really brave statement. The only reason it didn’t quite do as well as we and the record company hoped is because we were about to do This is Mine on Top of the Pops when Glenn (Gregory) ruptured his cartilage the evening before. He was in such excruciating pain that he couldn’t do it and was in hospital. The producer said, essentially, if we didn’t do it, we’d never work in this town again. And we never did get any more Top of the Pops appearances for the rest of that album.”

Bill Bailey on exploring his towns and surroundings while on tour with his comedy shows

“It is a bit daunting, and there are the ups and downs, like being away from home. The novelty of hotels wore off a long time ago. What I tend to long for are the other experiences – to explore wherever I am, to get out there and get into the outdoors and educate myself a bit about every place I go to. I recognise I’ve been fortunate, and it’s a fortunate profession to be in, and I don’t want to squander that opportunity. I get the chance to go all around Britain, and see so much of it. I get the chance to go watching birds, walking and hiking. There’s always somewhere near the place I am which offers up some sort of interesting quirk about Britain, hitherto unknown.”

Pistols Offer: Midge Ure

Pistols Offer: Midge Ure

Midge Ure, former Ultravox frontman, on turning down Malcolm McLaren’s offer to join the Sex Pistols

“It was more important that he got someone who looked the part than someone who could be the part. It was less about making music than it was about using music as a vehicle to sell clothes. I just felt that was wrong. You can’t ask someone to join a band without knowing what it is they do.”

Ian McNabb (The Icicle Works), on the process of writing his autobiography, Merseybeast

“It was a completely cathartic and very therapeutic experience, and I’d recommend everyone to do the same. You don’t have to be famous or anything to just go through your life and try and write it down in an interesting and readable way, and you get to explain various things to yourself as well as other people.”

Taking Mic: Dave Spikey

Taking Mic: Dave Spikey

Dave Spikey on his brand of humour and a continued love for newspaper headlines

“I consider most headlines to be punchlines. It’s the perfect definition, something you set up with an opening paragraph summarising it all, then tell the story, and bang – your headline draws attention to that story. There are two sorts, ones where journalists are really clever in the way they’ve done it, mainly with ambiguity and a play on words, then some you just shouldn’t publish, and I get sent them from all over the world now. There was one from The Baltimore Sun recently about the weather, which read ‘Eight and a half inches make June the wettest for a long time’. Just what were they thinking of? Then there are stories that just demand a punchline, like one from the Hartlepool Mail, which said how police boarded a shop in the harbour to arrest a drunken sailor in conjunction with the harbour police at 5.30am. You just wonder what they’re going to do with the drunken sailor that early in the morning.”

John Power (Cast) on enjoying life again with his band

“We’ve been selling out on the night for pretty much the whole of this tour. That’s a really good sign. We’re not just playing the main musical strongholds. We’re playing all over the place, and places we haven’t really been for a long time or not at all. That shows us that out there’s a lot of affection for the band. And I think the audience needed to know that we’re out there and doing it, and we need to know they’re there. So this year has already been creative and positive. The band has spent a lot of time together and we’re also coming up with an album we never thought we were going to this time last year.”

November

Totally Wired: Noel Fielding is plugged in (Image: Dave Brown)

Totally Wired: Noel Fielding is plugged in (Image: Dave Brown)

Noel Fielding pondering which band in history he’d like to go back and join, given the chance

“It would have to be the ‘70s, in the days of glam probably … or prog. Marc Bolan’s band, or a proggy rock band like Hawkwind. I love all that stuff, and Frank Zappa and Captain Beefheart. Me and Julian (Barratt) were obsessed with all that – the dressing up and the weird psychedelic, frightening stuff.”

Hugh Cornwell, former Stranglers frontman, on being labelled a punk back in the day

“It was an opportunity, and no one can convince me The Police were a punk band, or Blondie were a punk band, or Elvis Costello was a punk. Yet we didn’t care what they called us. Who cares! It was an opportunity for us to break into the music business and gain an audience. And it’s funny, because all the people that were on the periphery were the ones that came through and on to bigger things.”

Monty Mottram (Dubious Brothers) on the ‘lightbulb moment’ that inspired the band

“It was The Singing Detective. That pretty much changed my life, certainly musically. The way Dennis Potter juxtaposed the old music and made it darker. It was chirpy, sweet, 1930s’ and 1940s’ innocent music, yet he put it in a context of something that was much darker. That was one of the catalysts for what we eventually became. We were still synth-poppy, and didn’t really change until the first album. South America Welcomes the Nazis got a bit more swingy, but that darker old music hall, decaying Britain thing didn’t really happen until that first album.”

Richard Houghton, on his love for The Rolling Stones, the subject of his book, You Had To Be There! Live 1962-1969

“Essentially, the Stones started out as a pub band playing music very few people wanted to hear and so the audiences were often no more than a handful of enthusiasts. The band would just step off the stage and wander up to the bar during the interval, and there are some great anecdotes from contributors, with Mick showing someone how to play the harmonica or Keith teaching someone a chord. Once the vibe about how great a live act they were started to spread, and when they’d had a hit with Not Fade Away, things started to take off very quickly.”

Electric Dreams: Lucy Beaumont waits for a bus home

Electric Dreams: Lucy Beaumont waits for a bus home to Hull

Lucy Beaumont on her hometown receiving City of Culture status for 2017 and what makes Hull tick 

“It’s had hard knocks has Hull, but deserves this. Let’s just hope people visit. It’s about the people, and the community spirit. People care about each other. That’s so important, and you sense it. When you’re proud of where you’re from it gives a place an atmosphere. You’re not living there because you have to work there, but because you’ve got roots there, and those bases are special. It’s been a long time coming, and we need some recognition. You wouldn’t believe the amount of professional actors, writers, artists and musicians who come out of Hull. For such a small place, it’s incredible, and people need to know.”

December

Mark Radcliffe, broadcaster/part-time rock’n’roll legend, on some of the puzzling decisions his former band The Shirehorses made

“We made a lot of odd decisions back then, like doing a full tour and never having any t-shirts. I remember sitting in the pub, saying if we get these t-shirts done we’d have to go and see someone in Preston. We decided we couldn’t be bothered, deciding to stay and have another couple of pints. That was how our decisions were made. We weren’t exactly young businessmen of the year.”

Mark Burgess (Chameleons Vox), on finding success after approaching legendary DJ John Peel

“It all happened very fast, in fact the day after our session for John Peel went out. And our lives completely changed. We were really surprised how incredulous people were when we later explained how we got on there. We didn’t realise the length people went to get his attention. All we did was go down and hang around outside the BBC, waiting for him, giving him our tape, talking to John for about 10 minutes. That was on the Friday, then on the Monday morning he phoned me – at our house. I thought someone was winding me up, doing an impression. He had to convince me.”

Alive Presence: Slade, 2015 style, live in Ekaterinburg, Russia

Alive Presence: Slade, 2015 style, live in Ekaterinburg, Russia

Dave Hill (Slade), asked whether he remembered playing Preston Public Hall with his band in 1971 and 1972

“I guess we must have knocked on most doors in our country, and certainly did in Manchester, Liverpool, Preston … it becomes a haze. We were a young bunch of guys travelling in an Austin J2 van, then a Transit when we could afford it, travelling up to your neck of the woods, whether it be playing a ballroom, a Mecca, a pub … we covered a lot of ground. There was an awful lot going on with us. We’d been in the ball park a long time, but by the time we’d actually started to score a goal – a hit record with Get Down Get With it – we were everywhere. Certainly by ’72 and ’73 we were the biggest thing of the time, like The Beatles of the ‘70s.”

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Thanks for the memoirs – catching up with Slade’s Dave Hill

Alive Presence: Slade in Ekaterinburg, Russia - John Berry, Don Powell, Dave Hill, Mal McNulty

Alive Presence: Slade in Ekaterinburg, Russia – John Berry, Don Powell, Dave Hill, Mal McNulty

Looking at the extensive list of past shows on Don Powell’s website, it’s clear that Slade are old hands at this touring lark. An impressive archive of on-stage engagements runs from March 1963, and it’s fair to say Don’s diary remains relatively chock-a-block to this day.

Back in those early days Slade were two separate entities, with drummer Don and guitarist Dave Hill in club circuit blues band the Vendors (later the ’N Betweens) and guitarist/ singer Noddy Holder with Steve Brett and the Mavericks. But the trio – all now aged 69 – met on a ferry to Germany on their way to separate engagements 50 years ago, and not long after their return to Wolverhampton, Nod decided to take up Don and Dave’s offer to join their band.

By that time bass player and multi-instrumentalist Jim Lea, three years younger, was also on board, and history was in the making, this newly-honed four-piece in time becoming Ambrose Slade, then – with ex-Animals bassist and Jimi Hendrix manager Chas Chandler in charge – simply Slade, that classic line-up going on to enjoy mesmeric world success.

While the original Slade story ended in 1992 and chief songwriters Nod and Jim moved on to other projects, Dave and Don were soon touring again, initially as Slade II and since 2002 back under the original name. And they haven’t stopped rocking up at venues all over the world since, as Dave told me on his return from one such trip to Scandinavia earlier this week.

The old band occasionally gets together for the odd event, but live it’s just been Dave and Don of the originals for 23 years now, the last decade alongside Mal McNulty (vocals, guitar) and John Berry (bass, vocals, violin). And while every interview with the band still seems to include that inevitable question about the chance of Nod and Jim rejoining, Dave’s happy carrying on as things are.

So, five decades after that fateful meeting which ultimately led to the classic four-piece, does he ever ponder on what might have happened if Noddy had missed that ferry?

“I think in life it’s like that film Sliding Doors, where there are two outcomes, depending on your decision.”

Any idea what yourself and Don would have done for a living if the music hadn’t paid off?

“No idea! Music is in me.”

Merry Xmas: Every Santa has a ball in Rovaniemi (Photo: The Official Slade Facebook Page)

Merry Xmas: Every Santa has a ball in Rovaniemi (Photo: The Official Slade Facebook Page)

I should explain here that ours was a two-part interview, with an initial questionnaire I forwarded last weekend – returned a couple of days later – followed by a midweek morning chat on the phone from his office in Wolverhampton. So while some of the answers are a little more concise (those penned by Dave), others were more in-depth and philosophical in places (those transcribed by myself after our call).

And you’ll be pleased to know – as those who’ve met Dave over the years already knew – that the David John Hill I had the pleasure of catching up with this week was every bit the amiable, genuine rock legend I’d hoped he would be. There’s certainly no front to this fella, just plenty of down-to-earth, straight-forward honesty … as well as that occasional impish laugh and those distinctive Black Country tones.

Dave also proved to be refreshingly laid-back and somewhat pensive as we covered a wide array of subjects, from making best use of all the waiting around between shows and his on-going world travels to inspiration for songs, the band’s relationship with their loyal fans, and much more. And we also got on to his current project, following in Noddy Holder and Don Powell’s footsteps in writing an autobiography, although full details remain under wraps at present.

So Dave, seeing as I’ve caught you at something of a non-rock’n’roll hour, I should ask if you’re an early morning person these days?

“Very much so. I’m up in the morning, out for a walk, then breakfast, and it’s been like that for years. It sets me up for the day and keeps me moving. I always carry the phone with me too, as it has a recording device on it. When I’m out walking sometimes things come into my head. It could be a melody or words, so you need something to capture the moment. I find words often come to you when you’re away from racket or noise, and very often I come back and start work after something I’ve heard. And it seems to work for me.”

It’s a good idea. How many times have we had perfect melodies at times only to forget them when something else happens or we’re interrupted some way or other.

“Well, sometimes you’ll think of a perfect melody in your sleep, then you wake up and try to hum it. It may not turn out quite as good as you heard it, but could turn out to be a hit record.”

Dave knows a fair bit about hits, Slade having more than 20 top-20 singles and seven top-20 albums in the UK alone, with six of those singles and three of those LPs reaching No.1. between 1972 and 1974. Knowing he’s a big Beatles fan, I mention a certain Paul McCartney dream that he turned into Scrambled Eggs and ended as Yesterday.

“Yes, and there was that Blackbird singing in the dead of night, saying he nicked this tune off a bird, but altered it. It could just be something you hear from a distance, which you get the vibe from if not necessarily the melody. I wrote something once while delayed waiting for a plane. I was in an electrical shop in Brussels, something incessant going on over the tannoy sparking an idea. And because I was delayed several hours it ended up totally occupying me.

“And funnily enough, I answered most of the questions you sent me while sitting in at the lounge at the airport too!”

Slade_front_logo_300dpiAfter all these years, I’m guessing the trips between gigs, checking-in to hotels, sound-checking and hanging around doesn’t get any easier. I wonder how many of those hours you’ve lost over the decades while waiting or travelling between engagements.

“I think it was Charlie Watts of the Stones who said it was 10 per cent live shows, 90 per cent hanging around. But the way I view it is of the process of the journey you take in preparation for a show, which then epitomises what you’ve actually travelled out to do. For example, I was in Lapland the other day and it was awesomely snowy and beautiful, but we’d travelled quite a way. You can get into a mindset of moaning about all the ruddy travelling, but for me it’s about a process of engagement while you’re being checked in, and all that.

“If you weren’t travelling to do my job, you may just be sat around at home, which is alright for a period of time, but … Anyway, after 50 years of ‘travel, gig, hotel’, I make a point of seeing a town these days, whereas in the ‘hit’ days we whizzed from one place to another. I see far more of what’s going on these days, often travelling out a day earlier. We were only 20-something then. I’ve seen a lot more in the last 20-odd years than I saw in the entire career of the original band, visiting more interesting places.

“John Lennon talked about getting to meet your fans and knowing them by name, and that’s how it becomes – especially the loyal ones, such as those travelling over from Germany and other countries for this show we’re doing at the Robin 2 in Bilston (Thursday, December 17th, so apologies if you’re only reading this now), where we formed.

“But we work in their countries too, and people over here don’t always realise the amount of people we play to in big venues out there, sometimes packing arenas out. It’s nice that people here talk to me about that Christmas song, but there are all the others from the albums too, not just the ‘70s stuff but our ‘80s hits too.”

You mention Lapland, having just played northern Finland, and it seems that you’ve always had a great affinity with Scandinavia.

“There’s a deepness when I go to Norway, and I’ve always known it. Whether it’s rooted in my genealogy or not, I don’t know. I might try and find out one day. I wouldn’t mind approaching the people at Who Do You Think You Are? Maybe next year.

“But there is an affinity, in Finland, Sweden and Norway, all fine countries and all nice to visit. We’re there for the purpose of entertainment, but when you’re approached in a street by Norwegians who recognise you, it’s different again from being approached in England.

“My son grew up in the ‘80s so didn’t know so much about how it was before, and when he came with me on the road he saw all these foreigners besotted with the image and the music, thanking us for all the pleasure we’ve given them. Yes, it’s about playing and being on stage, but it’s also about all the other things that enhance your life while you live, and the travel’s been a big part of what I’ve done.

“A lot of artists decide not to continue touring and become studio-based, but I’ve never lost my love for it, and neither has Don. To me there’s nothing like the experience of standing on a stage and getting involved with the audience, seeing their reaction to it all. One of my daughters came to Belgium to see us, bringing her partner, and they were both amazed at the reaction and how people knew all the words. Yet people who see me around Wolverhampton might end up asking what I’m up to these days, and I have to tell them I’m still doing the same!”

Dublin Rocks: Slade face up to a loving Vicar Street crowd (Photo: The Official Slade Facebook Page)

Dublin Rocks: Slade face up to a loving Vicar Street crowd (Photo: The Official Slade Facebook Page)

Which is a nice way of bringing me back to Don’s online diary of past engagements, where I see there were very few days off in those early days. Take for example 1965’s festive season, with shows on the doorstep on Christmas Eve (Harold Clowes Hall, Bentilee), New Year’s Eve (Mossley Youth Club) and New Year’s Day (Sedgley Parish Hall). And as far as I can tell there were few breaks over that period from then until around 1972, by which time they’d moved on to wider touring, TV, promo and recording commitments.

By then the itinerary shows the band had moved further afield too, and – seeing as my excuse for talking to Dave was Slade’s last show of 2015 at Preston Guild Hall (Saturday, December 19th), I’ll mention that venue’s predecessor, Preston Public Hall, where they played on December 21st, 1971, the penultimate night of a tour (followed by the finale at London’s Marquee) in the year of their first three chart hits and debut No.1, Coz I Luv You. And they were back at the same hall on November 4th, 1972, four weeks before the release of their first No.1 album, Slayed. But I’m guessing it’s too much to ask that Dave would specifically recall that venue.

“To be honest, especially around then, we must have knocked on most doors in our country, and certainly did in Manchester, Liverpool, Preston … it becomes a haze. We were a young bunch of guys travelling in an Austin J2 van, then a Transit when we could afford it, travelling up to your neck of the woods, whether it be playing a ballroom, a Mecca, a pub … we covered a lot of ground.

“That included Germany of course. We were booked for a month there. Mind you, we didn’t last a month! The boss of the club didn’t like us, and we cleared off actually. We wouldn’t play pop hits for him, you see. He wanted us to play chart hits, but we were never that sort of band.

“I can’t actually think of what Preston was like then, and there was an awful lot going on at that time. We’d already been in the ball park a long time, but by the time we actually started to score a goal – as in our first hit with Get Down Get With it and with Coz I Luv You reaching No.1 after that – we were everywhere. Certainly by ’72 and ’73 we were the biggest thing of the time, like The Beatles of the ’70s. That’s definitely the impression I got from our Russian fans about us, and that from a nation that’s very loyal to rock fans from working class backgrounds.”

As it turns out, 44 years after Slade’s first Preston appearance, the current line-up are back this weekend, with the 2015 version of Mud supporting. Is this Dave and Don doing their charitable bit for the Lonely this Christmas?

“The Preston show and the previous one at the Robin 2 will be an absolute pleasure for all, I hope, with non-stop classics plus a certain tune – ha ha! And Mud are really nice chaps.”

I’m guessing there were occasions back in the day when you were on the same bill as the original Mud, at least on the same Top of the Pops. Any memories spring to mind?

“Yes, those involving Les and the boys, and bottles of champagne. Oh yes, we supped some stuff and had a laugh … as you did in those days.”

51CoNyg1WIL._SL500_AA280_Meanwhile, Slade remain in great demand to this day over the festivities, unsurprisingly seeing as we hear the mega-selling Merry Xmas Everybody almost daily from around October. So has it historically been a case of the band having to put off their own family festive celebrations until they’re free?

“I never missed any such events. Being with family and friends, that’s most important to me.”

And what do family Christmases involve these days for dad of three Dave – who also has grandchildren aged six and five – and his wife Jan, once the shows are over?

“Home is where my wife and kids are … and now my grandkids too.”

Are the little ones aware of what Grandad Hill does for a living yet?

“They’re not quite switched on yet. There will come a time when they’ll come and see a show though. And when my second children were born in the ’80s, I was Dad rather than anything to do with being a pop star. They didn’t know I was famous. They’re definitely their own people too. They’re three great children. We’re really lucky.”

Has Dave calmed down with the stage costumes these days? And is there a costume or a haircut he thinks – on refection – he wished he hadn’t gone with?

“I still wear colourful clothes. I invented the haircut, the boots and the costumes, and I’m proud of it. And I know people tuned into Top of the Pops to see what I’d wear next.”

Speaking of which, what became of that infamous ‘Metal Nun’ outfit he previously sported on stage? And how about the original YOB 1 number plate?

“I have great memories of everything I wore, and the Metal Nun is always around – ha ha! YOB 1 is still alive too.”

We use the term ‘branding’ now, but in Slade’s 70s heyday it was just plain marketing, and you definitely had some innovative ideas with regard to the Superyob fashion range. Was that a lucrative sideline?

Metal Nun: Dave Hill at the height of his sartorial elegance

Metal Nun: Dave Hill at the height of his sartorial elegance

“I think with the guitar it was something of an extension to the stage clothes, wearing the silver and glitter and high boots, all very spacey and very big shoulders. My designer who worked with me felt it would be great to have a guitar to go with all that. Everyone else was just using a Gibson.

“So the fashion designer sketched out a guitar which looked just like a cosmic raygun, and the Yob thing came from my car registration, deciding to call this guitar the Superyob. We had it made by John Birch, a guitar-maker who designed for Tommy Iommi of Black Sabbath, made by John Diggins. And we chose silver, which was Chas Chandler’s idea.

“But when I went on Top of the Pops with it, little did I know that a young Marco Pirroni, later in Adam and the Ants, was watching, and decided, ‘I want that guitar!’ He said it was like nothing he’d ever seen, and he was right. And Marco did end up getting the original, because I sold it and he bought it, but he loans it out now and again.”

As he did to Madness, ‘Chrissie Boy’ Foreman playing it in the video for their 1981 hit Shut Up.

“That’s right … and he leant it to me as well. I had one remade too, and the one I use now also has lights up the neck. But I didn’t get it made because it was a great guitar to play, but to use for a couple of songs then put to one side – as I do now. And to this day that’s all part of the imagery of what we do.”

Forty years on from the band’s critically-acclaimed feature film, Flame, I get the impression you all had differing views. For me it’s definitely stood the test of time, depicting the music scene better than any rock film from that or any other era.

“Flame is a good film, but it’s timed in the seventies. I reckon we should have had a Slade Hard Day’s Night caper, with Midlands humour. People like to see fun and humour.”

Staying in 1975, George Tremlett wrote in The Slade Story, ‘Hill is an extrovert, hard-working, superstitious, more sensitive than he cares to admit, perhaps over-conscious of his working class background – and at the same time warm in his personal relationships, an easy person to interview because he appears to enjoy relating anecdotes’. Did he get you about right?

“Yeah … background-wise. And I’m still in Wolverhampton, aren’t I.”

Absolutely, and while you’ve clearly always been ambitious and always wanted to make it big, you’ve never shunned your working class roots, coming over as very loyal to the area and those who helped break the band.

“My first drummer, when I was 14 or 15, told me later, ‘You knew what you wanted right there and then’. And I think I did. I found from a cheap guitar out of a Kay’s catalogue the beginning of something for me at a time when I wasn’t very good at school. The guitar came into my life and from then …

“My mother’s father was a classical pianist, so the music thing was around, but it must have been a shock to Mum and Dad when I was 18 – after doing a job for three years in an office – at a time when The Beatles were huge, telling them I wanted to go professional.

“But they’d seen me play several times, and there wasn’t really an argument. Mum was cautious, as she was quite business-like and wanted me to be a doctor to something – but that was never going to happen! I think she also recognised a musical ability, and they looked at each other, then went, ‘Well, give it a go’.

“From that, the next great thing my Dad did for me was to buy me a very special Gibson guitar, because our manager Chas Chandler wanted me to have a better one. That cost him £220 and in those days it was a case of him getting the cash and going down to London to buy the guitar. That guitar’s on some of the biggest hits we ever had, and hangs on my wall now.

Superyob Splendour: From the March 2006 issue of Guitarist Magazine

Superyob Splendour: From the March 2006 issue of Guitarist Magazine

“As far as the personal thing is concerned, I’ve a side to me that runs quite deep – poetical but also probably spiritual in a sense, without putting a finger on anything I do. I think a lot of musicians have a faith or purpose or a feeling that runs alongside what the power of music is, and that gift. I’m not spouting this to anyone, but when I had a stroke five years ago I think it changed me a lot and shook a lot of the debris out. I’m now half-way through writing my life story and there’s a lot there where the journey I’ve been on all these years has been re-lived.”

While priorities may have shifted – Don Powell also suffering a couple of health scares – the live shows carry on apace, 23 years after the very first Slade II gig on December 11th, 1992 at Mora in Sweden. Did it seem a little odd going back out there again without Nod and Jim?

“Yes, it was exciting and nervy too, to be honest. Having new people made it seem like the excitement of a new band.”

Mal McNulty has been with you 10 years now, and John Berry for 12 years. I guess they’re not just the ‘new boys’ these days.

“Definitely not new boys! Mal and John are in the Slade band now, simple as that.”

The line-ups have changed, but I make it 23 years since Nod and Jim left, after 27 years alongside Don and Dave. I guess they don’t plan too far ahead now, but it’s feasible that there will be a Mk. II silver anniversary by the end of 2017.

“All things are possible if you believe … a wise proverb.”

It’s been a sad year for Dave and Don with the loss of their good friend, Graham ‘Swinn’ Swinnerton to cancer, the former Slade tour manager who was immortalised in 1974 hit The Bangin’ Man having also been associated with their previous bands.

“Swinn was the first guy I met when I joined the Vendors. He was a great guy, funny, awkward, smart, well-read. My Dad liked him a lot too, which is a compliment. I will miss him and his ways. He was very much like a fifth member of the band. He wasn’t one for self pity, I have to say – he got on with it. He was an excellent tour manager and mate, and he was one of us.”

There must have been times – not least as those record sales fell off in the late ‘70s – when Dave wondered just how long this would all last. But he’s still out there. That’s some achievement, isn’t it?

“Swinn said to me when we last met, ‘It took some guts to go out without Nod’. I appreciated that thought, but more than anything I’m glad Don and I did what we did and the pleasure it’s brought to me and audiences worldwide. Being in it and keeping the music alive is our life. And I bought the ticket for a lifetime.”

51AhgKCVXQL._SY344_BO1,204,203,200_I thoroughly enjoyed Don’s Look Wot I Dun (2013, written with Lise Lyng Falkenberg), and before that Noddy Holder’s Who’s Crazee Now (1999). And now Dave’s working on his own memoir. What can he tell us at this stage?

“I’m working with a guy called Anthony Keates, and we’ve found a nice way to work, recording the stories. I really enjoy his company, and he’s from Walsall, and also a big fan of Slade, so knows all the background. Without saying too much, there will be interest. It’s about finding the right publisher. But I’m not concerned, not in any hurry. And at the moment I’m enjoying it.”

It sounds like you’re taking the same approach as you do with your time on the road – it’s about the journey as much as the arrival.

“A lot of people may want to read about the success of Slade, but a lot of that’s already been told through Nod’s and Don’s books. Some fans will want to see pictures of us with famous people – the way I am with The Beatles. But when you really look at it, it’s about what’s a person’s like before all that, and what makes the story.

“Yes, it’s not about the arrival – it’s about the journey. I might even say I haven’t arrived yet. Some might disagree when they look at what’s been achieved, but I don’t see it like that. The initial thing I did when I formed a group is still the same now. Otherwise, I wouldn’t still be doing it. It all comes back to why you did it in the first place, and that’s usually the joy of playing guitar and making music.”

I’m guessing it’s proved a cathartic experience, thinking back on certain memories.

“There’s a lot in there I don’t want to talk about at the moment, but the journey I’ve been on all these years is being relived through that whole experience. George Tremlett, in the book you mentioned, got some of it right, but hadn’t known me long enough to really know me.”

That’s true, and I have to say the author had you down as being born on April 4th, 1952, with the same discrepancies over the ages of your bandmates too.

“That was probably based on the original story, when we knocked five years off our age! If that was the case I wouldn’t be approaching my 70th now. He was probably somewhat misled!”

Dave’s trademark cackle follows, and it’s good to hear – taking me back, in the same way that his book project has taken him back home.

“I’ve wanted to do this book for a long, long time, but think it’s a lot more interesting now than if I’d written it back then. After my stroke I was doing talks for the Stroke Association and engaged with people who also survived strokes. I can relate to them, and they to me, and I have this natural ability to talk. In fact, I probably talk too much sometimes!

“People can initially be taken by your success, but once we meet and start to talk, they realise I’m just like them, and haven’t really changed in that area. I understand the fame thing and I’ve had to live through that. But round here these days it’s mostly people out walking their dogs, saying, ‘Morning, Dave’, rather than me being in some other town and people seeing me as that bloke from Slade.”

4315427Again, I don’t want to pre-empt the book, but I was always intrigued by the fact that you were born in Devon, at a castle serving as a maternity home, but very soon relocated to Wolverhampton. What was the story there?

“I think you’ll have to read the book, but it’s quite a story, and it’s very interesting how my Mum and Dad came together. There is a reason why they were down there, something I didn’t know until later life. But yes, I was born in a castle and moved to a council house … that’s a good start, isn’t it!”

Well, they say every Englishman’s home is his castle.

“Something like that! I did actually go back, knock at the door and say, ‘I was born here!’ as if I was about to claim it back! And the guy who answered the door – in another strange set of circumstances – happened to have designed an amplifier which Slade used. And I was with Don at the time! It’s a lovely place too, 500 acres – very nice.”

Moving on a few years, I believe you also had a science teacher who helped you learn the guitar.

“Yes, Brian Close. He didn’t so much teach me as start me off. He’s now living in Australia, and gave lessons to some of the boys at school. I had this guitar and he told me it was dreadful and I needed something better. He was a jazz guitarist. I’d go around his house and sit there with a sheet of music. One of the first pieces I learned was Tell Laura I Love Her.

“He also had quite an influence on me switching over the way I played. I was left-handed and had my guitar upside down. He told me, ‘You can’t have it that way! You’ll have to play it right-handed. You’ll get used to it.’ He was right. I did get used to it, and he may have done me a big favour.

“I later met someone in Middle of the Road who was left-handed, He said that was the best thing I could have done, saying, ‘I’m left-handed and play left-handed, but I think it’s a weakness, because my left-hand is on the fretboard and my right’s on the rhythm’. It works for some, and a lot of left-handers like Jimi Hendrix, who had his guitar upside down, and Paul McCartney play left-handed. But there’s a lot of power in my left hand, so it works well for me.”

All these years on, who does this left-handed, right-handed axe hero rate as his personal guitar favourites?

“The players I love are Hank Marvin, Paul Kossoff, Billy Gibbons, Carlos Santana, Peter Green, Eric Clapton of course, and Keith Richards.”

I read somewhere you gave music lessons at a local school in recent years.

“I did for a couple of years and really enjoyed it, and have a lot of experience of working with special needs children. Should I ever be called upon to do that again, I would at the drop of a hat. The school I helped out also helped me. One or two of those kids are not alive now, so it was sad in some ways, yet I touched base with some personal feelings, and that’s something I’ll always remember. It’s all part of doing things for one another.”

Classic Cinema: Slade In Flame

Classic Cinema: Slade In Flame

Yourself and Don are clearly survivors. What advice would you pass on to the next generations out there hoping to follow in your footsteps?

“I think the next generation of bands as we see it involves a different set-up, but longevity is about early experience and great songs, which Slade have.

“But most of all are the reasons you’re doing it. That’s what counts. I love what I do, and if you love what you do and people still want to hear it, that’s great.

“Take your legacy out there! Good wine lasts … and so does good music and entertainment!”

 

There must be nights when you find it hard to play certain songs after all these years though, especially those a crowd expects every night. But I guess there are also certain tracks you rediscover from time to time and feel justifiably proud of.

“I don’t get tired of our songs. They live on, and yes there’s a few cheery numbers around, and the ones I wrote are great in the act on stage too.”

I spotted a photo of Don with Nod at a ‘Scribblers, Pluckers, Thumpers and Squawkers’ lunch in Barnes recently. Is it always good to catch up again, despite the fall-outs?

“Those lunches are a nice way to see guys who’ve done the rounds and are still alive to tell the tale. And of course there are some useful people there who can help you with advice and experience, and funny stories.”

Four Play: Slade, 2015 style. From the left - Mal McNulty, Don Powell, Dave Hill and John Berry

Four Play: Slade, 2015 style. From the left – Mal McNulty, Don Powell, Dave Hill and John Berry

And if you had a quid for every time you were asked about putting the old band back together again, would that come anywhere near the royalties that come the way of the Holder/Lea estate every year for that big Christmas hit?

“That’s a good question … I won’t comment on that! But I’m happy where I am and what it’s done for me in life. I give a lot out there and feel a lot of love back – it’s infectious and fun. It’s what we do, and let’s face it – we all need some good times right now. Be in the moment and be happy with what joys we have. That’s the way for me now.

“I’d never have known the journey I’d take, the places and people I’d meet and the success I’d enjoy in the pop world, and just how big we’d became and the effect on the world we’d have when I started playing my £7.50 guitar from a Kay’s catalogue, when I was 13. And I’m still on that journey.”

Slade, supported by Mud, wrap up their 2015 dates at Preston Guild Hall on Saturday, December 19th. For tickets and further details of a VIP Christmas Party package call 01772 804440 or email info@guildpromotions.co.uk.

For this blog’s review of the Noddy Holder and Mark Radcliffe show at Preston Charter Theatre in May 2013, head here.

And for writewyattuk’s Slade Are For Life – Not Just For Christmas appreciation from December 2012, head here.

For more details about the band’s plans for 2016, head to the official website here and check out the official Facebook page here. 

  • With additional thanks to Abbie at the HCO for helping track down Dave.
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The Adventures of the Crumpsall Kid – A Memoir by Mike Harding – a writewyattuk review

Crumpsall Kid: Mike Harding takes us back to his youth

Crumpsall Kid: Mike Harding takes us back to his youth

When you get to know and like an author or performer, there’s a concern when you get a chance to review their latest work that you won’t be able to give an honest appraisal. But within a couple of pages of Mike Harding’s early years memoir, I realised that wouldn’t be an issue.

I already knew this Manchester-born singer-songwriter, comedian, dramatist, poet, broadcaster and multi-instrumentalist was a born storyteller, but he proves here he’s capable of turning anecdotes into entertaining prose too. And while highly lyrical in places, it’s never pretentious.

There’s plenty of honesty and humour too, this Yorkshire-based jack of all arts not out to over-egg his working class roots either. And it’s so much stronger for not being some kind of ‘By ‘eck, we had it hard …’ chronicle, Mike steering away from being portrayed as a victim, despite a potentially-scarring post-war Catholic education.

On the other hand, neither does he pretend that the latter did him no harm, the section relating to his later school days leaving this reader outraged on Mike’s behalf. Yet you get the feeling that – thankfully – his grounded family background and plenty of community spirit carried him through the darker moments.

Mike certainly tells his tale with plenty of colour, and over 250 pages provides valuable glimpses into a lost world of terraced red-brick houses and long-since sacrificed open spaces, in a highly-likeable portrait of a working-class nipper from the back streets of Manchester who went on to successfully find his feet.

There are parallels with Danny’s Baker’s Going to Sea in a Sieve, recently adapted into the BBC Two hit, Cradle to Grave, and to that end the TV companies would do well to take an option on this memoir. And like Danny, Mike is almost apologetic in stressing from the start how his was largely a happy childhood, despite his later school woes and losing his Dad before he was even born.

As he puts it, ‘I tried my best to write this as a work of miserabilia, part of that staple of today’s literature that my local Waterstones has titled ‘Unfortunate Lives’. But I failed. I wasn’t kept in a cupboard with nothing but a sponge to pee in. I wasn’t sent down the treacle mines at the age of six months, and I didn’t spend my days on my hands and knees fighting the dogs for their Spratt’s Ovals. I don’t want to make light of the terrible lives that some people have led, but mine, while far from being being that of Little Lord Fauntleroy, wasn’t all that bad. We were poor – but not as poor as the starving children in Africa (as my mother reminded me when I said I didn’t want to eat my stewed tripe and onions).’

We certainly get a valuable insight into austere post-war Britain, North Country style, and a nation looking to ‘rebuild itself, physically and emotionally‘. But it’s every bit as much about ‘childhood days consisting of sunshine and lemonade and leapfrog‘ too, and Mike paints a vivid picture about home life with his widowed Mum, her sister, his great-grandma, and two uncles not long out of the Army.

CoverOf those, the stand-out character is 80-year-odd Dubliner Nanna, one of the key female rocks that helped raise Mike while his Mum looked to earn a crust to top up a war widow’s pension. And Nanna – who many moons before rescued Mike’s mum and her siblings from a Nun-led home in Dublin – is a formidable woman, washing her hair in paraffin in front of the fire in winter, cooking Mike bubble’n’squeak and sitting him on her knee teaching him nursery rhymes, music hall songs and Irish street ballads, while firing his imagination with tales of tinkers’ curses, the banshee, saints, blessed martyrs, and rebellion.

Conversely, Mike’s male peers flit in and out, not least the Grandad who appears at Christmas and Easter while seeking out old drinking pals around Manchester. Yet they play a part too, the author acknowledging how his Grandad’s stories and jokes were responsible more than anything else for his future career choice.

As well as his uncles’ war tales from India and North Africa, there’s an unseen male character who clearly left a huge impression – Mike’s Dad, the Devon boy killed returning from a Lancaster bombing raid in late September 1944, a month before his birth, leaving the love of his life ‘a bride, a widow and a mother within a year’. Fans of the 71-year-old may already know that sad tale from the poignant Bombers’ Moon, and while only part of that story is retold, you can see just how much ‘Curly’ Harding meant to the family.

There’s another male influence too, one Mike – like most wayward lads – didn’t seem to truly appreciate at the time. But it becomes clear that his stepdad, Polish ex-serviceman Lou – ‘a kind and good man‘ – who valiantly fought Hitler only for Stalin to take his place, made many sacrifices to help his new family get by. And while Mike tells us, ‘there are no skeletons in our family cupboard; they’re all out there in the street dancing the double jig‘, there’s no warmth when it comes to ‘Mad Uncle Len‘, the severe teetotal Methodist, bigot and General Strike-breaker who marries his Aunt Julia. There’s even humour there though, in the tale of the Christmas trifle his aunt secretly pours a bottle and a half of sherry in to get around Len’s alcohol ban.

I mention a glimpse into a lost world, and Mike fills us in on the days the rag and bone man, the milkman and the ice cream man cometh by horse, including daily battles to reach the fresh shit first to help cultivate Nanna’s rosebush. And just past the doorways where the donkey-stoning women on hands and knees we reach the sweet shop and relive Mike’s first school days, not least his horror on realising the latter wasn’t ‘an optional, one-day event, like going to the park or the zoo‘. Instead we witness Mike ‘moaning and wailing‘, being ‘dragged through the Crumpsall streets, howling my grief at my mother’s treachery to the chimney pots and the heavens beyond‘.

Then there’s the author running away from home, aged six, planning to board a ship at Salford Docks to ‘sail away to make my fortune‘, aiming for ‘Nover Scosher‘, Canada, but ‘getting no further than Barney’s Croft‘. Other characters shine through too, not least his pal Wharfie, who sets himself ‘up as a barber with his mother’s scissors and an upturned bucket, inviting all the girls from the streets around up‘, female customers soon queuing, ready to sacrifice their long hair in favour of ‘Wharfie’s convict chic‘.

Away from the public trauma of Mike’s first communion and priestly insistence that all roads lead to heaven, hell or purgatory (with ‘limbo’ and the Holy Ghost to explain the trickier stuff), we witness Mike’s Green Hand Gang roaming the streets, climbing trees, kicking balls, seeing ‘who could pee the furthest’ and generally getting up to mischief. And on the days when he’s found out, there’s Nanna sat ‘by the fire shaking her head‘, muttering ‘something about how it was all because I was playing with Protestants‘.

There are also the secret playgrounds where he spends school holidays, weekends and long summer evenings in the era before public health and safety legislation, prevalent diseases still stalking, when ‘everybody knew some kid who had died, or knew somebody who knew somebody‘. And all are told with humour but also sympathetically in the case of Uncle Bernard, losing his little girl in one such tragic accident.

$_35While Mike credits his Mum for reading him Robert Louis Stevenson’s A Child’s Garden of Verse, there’s praise too for the BBC’s Singing Together radio show, name-checking ‘well-known leftie‘ Bert Lloyd’s influence as a folk singer and song collector as well as a writer and broadcaster – qualities it’s fair to say the author himself has since achieved.

Mike doesn’t see everything with rose-tinted NHS specs, as seen in sections about the meals he was raised on, the lack of clean air that led to ‘the Manchester chest’ and descriptions of the harsh winters of his youth. But there are still idyllic spots nearby, not least the country around Besses o’th’ Barn where he visits relatives, further retreating from a world of Catholic guilt, masses, benediction and plenty of holy water (‘Nanna’s WD40‘).

There’s nostalgia for a spell in the Scouts too – camping in the wilds of Whittle-le-Woods – and days scrumping, carol singing, visiting his local cinema and swimming baths and charabanc day-trips to Blackpool, Southport and Llandudno, all happy substitutes for family holidays. But puberty is catching up with Mike, and with it a successful 11-plus that essentially catapults him into a whole new chapter at Manchester’s St Bede’s College.

And this will be no Tom Brown’s Schooldays drama. As he writes, ‘Anybody who was slightly different or had a little spirit, particularly those boys who came from poorer, working-class families, found the college a very different place. the collective experience of many of the men I meet now who were at St Bede’s in the ’50s and ’60s is that it was a grim place run mostly on the principle that boys were elementally evil and had to have the evil beat out of them. It was a school ruled over by a number of damaged men who went on to damage a number of the children in their care … the only women to be seen anywhere near the place was a legion of whiskery nuns who cleaned and cooked and did the laundry‘. And then there was Matron, ‘a large lady of indeterminate sex who gave you aspirin and yellow ointment for everything from earache to leprosy‘.

As with tales of public school beatings, I can’t help but feel sad for the little boy within as Mike recalls sadistic masters and physical and sexual abuse from so-called men of God. Thankfully though, a few inspirational teachers help him through, as do key outside factors like Lonnie Donegan’s music, Bert Weedon’s play-in-a-day guitar handbook and his stepdad shelling out for that first guitar. And then there’s education elsewhere, not least from the North Manchester Girls’ School pupils he meets and a revealing film at The Globe, plus summer days and evenings cycling as far from Crumpsall as he can get, a love of travelling aided by the YHA.

Music-wise, an initial love of skiffle is replaced by rock’n’roll – his NHS specs given a Buddy Holly makeover – and Mike’s first paid gigs follow, his early days with The Stylos including a residency at the Dover Castle, ‘close enough to the Salford border to be in bandit country‘. He also paints a portrait of that era’s Working Men’s Club circuit, ‘dark, damp places with glitzy stages, cold dressing rooms and outside toilets‘ that ‘stank of chicken in the basket (the Matterhorn of sophistication in them there days) stale cigarette smoke and even staler beer‘.

Meanwhile, Mike revises for his O-levels while his bandmates fit carpets, sell cotton or make specs, his education elsewhere further improved by the local girls watching the band. And beyond his exams and a summer job packing ball-bearings, we oversee his switch – as a sixth former – to The Manchester Rainmakers, by which point a discovery of Jack Kerouac – with hitchhiking to London soon on the agenda – and The Beatles – instinctively knowing ‘the three-chord trick, drainpipe trousers and Teddy Boy sneers were not going to cut it now‘ – changes the rules again, this young beat further distanced from his college environment at such a happening time for musicians and writers.

We also witness Mike’s drift from home, ready to move away from his parents and their growing family in search of his own destiny, his midnight rambles around town making for compulsive reading, on nights when ‘Manchester was dead as Dixie’s dog, the pubs (apart from any late night drinking dens where curtains were drawn and lights and voices were low) were all shut, the clubs had finished and the butty van on Cannon Street, where you could get a sausage sandwich and a mug of tea for a bob, had shut up shop‘.

Evocative Descriptions: Mike Harding

Evocative Descriptions: Mike Harding

At times those descriptions are nothing short of evocative, whether he’s talking about ‘Nick the Greek’s‘ (The Oxford Snack Bar on Oxford Road) and its colourful clientele, the old Manchester before the developers got at it (‘The town hall did more damage than the Luftwaffe‘), or a sense of being part of a world changing in such a ‘wild and interesting time to be a teenager‘ for that ‘first generation of Welfare State kids‘, when ‘there was full employment and free education and unlike our parents we didn’t have to leave school and get a job in a non-unionised sweatshop.’

But life is about to change for Mike again, and we soon get the hook that sets us up nicely for book two. And I for one can’t wait.

The Adventures of the Crumpsall Kid – A Memoir by Mike Harding  (Michael O’Mara Books, £18.99), is available now.

For a writewyattuk interview/feature with Mike Harding, from April 2015, head here.

And for more details about Mike, his internet folk show and forthcoming dates and engagements, head to his website here.

 

 

Posted in Books Films, TV & Radio, Comedy & Theatre, Music | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Instant karma, Chameleons Vox style – the Mark Burgess interview

Vox Pop: The Chameleons and Chameleons Vox front-man Mark Burgess in live action

Vox Pop: The Chameleons and Chameleons Vox front-man Mark Burgess in live action

It’s difficult to get over to the younger indie kids how important BBC Radio 1’s John Peel Show was during the latter decades of the 20th Century.

But I was hoping Mark Burgess could help, the front-man and bass player of The Chameleons – enjoying a fair amount of fan-base interest all these years on – having told me his band’s sole ambition on forming in 1981 was just to get played by Peely.

He wasn’t alone in that thinking either (a similar conversation with fellow Manc, Inspiral Carpets and Rainkings front-man Stephen Holt a while ago springs to mind), yet Mark also struggles to explain just how influential the late broadcaster – who died 11 years ago – was.

“I suppose you had two polarising drives. On one hand you had the wannabe pop stars who had that thing about Top of the Pops, then on the other there were those of us whose drive was to get on to the John Peel programme.”

As it turned out, The Chameleons’ over-riding ambition was soon achieved, this four-piece from Middleton, Greater Manchester, getting their first Peel Session within months of starting out (not returning for their next until exactly two years later).

At that stage the band comprised of Mark, guitarists Reg Smithies (also responsible for the majority of the band’s distinctive sleeve artwork) and Dave Fielding (along with Reg previously with Years, and before that with writewyattuk favourite David Gedge of The Wedding Present in his first band, Sen), and drummer Brian Schofield (who also has a Gedge link), the latter ‘gun for hire’ in time making way for John Lever.

And according to Mark, that initial radio session on June 8, 1981 – first broadcast nine evenings later – worked out to be be just what they needed.

“It all happened very fast, in fact the day after our session for John Peel went out. And our lives completely changed. We were really surprised how incredulous people were when we later explained how we got on there. We didn’t realise the length others went to get his attention. All we did was go down and hang around outside the BBC, waiting, giving him our tape and talking to John for about 10 minutes.

R-386310-1293642161.jpeg“That was on the Friday, then on Monday morning he phoned me at our house. I thought someone was winding me up, doing an impression. He had to convince me. I think he was really impressed, but when we approached him, I think he thought he was being attacked!

“I only met him two or three times altogether, but Peel was such a cool bloke and just to be on his show … well, we weren’t thinking beyond that … at all.”

Shortly after, a deal was done with CBS/Epic Records, and it seemed like the band had truly hit the big time, with the powerful debut single In Shreds (which went on to make that year’s Festive 50 on the Peel Show) the first fruit of their subsequent studio time with respected producer Steve Lillywhite. But from that promising beginning, The Chameleons’ machine seemed to grind to a halt, in what proved to be a frustrating period for the Mancunian quartet.

I’ll start before all that though, revisiting Mark’s first outfit, having reminded myself this last week of a few recordings he made with The Cliches, like 1980’s Leaving Town and Whole Wide World, which carry more of the spirit of The Clash and fellow Manc outfit Buzzcocks than the sound of his next band. Were they big influences?

“Massive, yeah! But The Cliches were kind of tongue-in-cheek with it, sending up what punk had become. We only did a few gigs, and I’m not sure that people got that. The songs were quite strong, but we were looking at each other a bit bemused that the send-up aspect wasn’t really coming across.”

There also seems to be a Teardrop Explodes influence with both The Cliches and the early Chameleons, something those who might mistakenly tar the band with a more Goth-like brush seem not to hear.

“Yeah, and in the immediate wake of punk, out of all the Liverpool bands, the best of the crop were The Teardrop Explodes and The Wild Swans.”

For me, that first Chameleons single and those early recordings offer elements of Echo and the Bunnymen, The Cure and The Psychedelic Furs too, while that distinctive guitar sound was arguably something later associated on a larger commercial scale with The Cult, a band formed over the other side of the Pennines (in Bradford) at around the same time (first as Southern Death Cult). How soon does Mark reckon The Chameleons had what they were looking for, sound-wise?

“That was relatively quick as well, in terms of the guitars. Reg was always there with it really. His sound is in his playing. Most of the evolution came from Dave, I’d say, and we benefitted from working with Steve Lillywhite really early. We learned a lot in that period.”

41z-4jwj0JLBut then came the frustration at how slowly the whole machine was turning, as Epic froze on that first album.

“It became obvious how our opinion of what constituted a great recording was very different from the more commercial interests CBS and even Steve Lillywhite had.

“When we recorded our first session it was so obvious what a great recording it was, so we were perplexed as to why they didn’t feel the same way. We were naïve and not thinking about chart placing and all that.

“For me it was a fantastic debut record and I had no doubt people would have been excited by it. We wanted to be a band to be discovered, not sold to people.”

Instead, the first two albums came out on Statik Records (although the fact that Virgin dealt with the label’s distribution ruled out any indie chart placings, and therefore arguably a little critical kudos). Were you free agents by then?

“Steve Lillywhite decided to pass on the album and do the third U2 album, so we needed a new producer and were introduced to various options which we weren’t impressed by. In the end we said we’d much rather do it ourselves with our regular engineer at Cargo Studios in Rochdale.

“After six months dancing around we were eager to record our songs and make our LP, and the next day we were off the label. They compensated us quite handsomely though, so we then had the luxury – and the arrogance, if you like – to do it ourselves.

“The Statik link came about because the very first thing we ever had released was on a compilation album a journalist put together for that label. A couple of the guys went to see them and were reasonably impressed. They gave us complete freedom to put out whatever we wanted, so that’s the direction we went in.”

The first sign that the band were up and running was the stirring Up the Down Escalator single at the beginning of 1983, followed a month later by As High As You Can Go and that June’s A Person Isn’t Safe Anywhere These Days, the latter two with hints of Julian Cope for this scribe (that’s a good thing, by the way, as far as I’m concerned). And then two months later we had the eventual release of defining debut album Script of the Bridge.

The Chameleons were truly up and running now, and were at Maida Vale for their third (and final) Peel Session in May 1984. And they were back in the studio again, this time north of the border, in Inverness at the beginning of 1985 for their second album, pre-empted by the mighty Singing Rule Britannia single – including its run-off tribute to The Beatles’ She Said She Said – in August 1985.

What Does Everything Mean? Basically then saw the light of day two months later, and was also largely well-received. And – skipping forward a little – then came the move to Geffen Records for the third album. So I’m guessing Mark felt they’d learned a lot from all those experiences by then.

“We had learned a lot, but it had been tough. The first album did well abroad – especially in the United States – but the label did a few naughty things we weren’t happy about. So financially we’d struggled. We were in that quagmire, shall we say, for six to eight months, but then switched management and got clear of all that, and got word that Geffen wanted to sign us. We met them and decided to go with that.”

MI0001776168Again we got a taster first, this time through the beguiling single Tears, followed – on the same day as second single, fans’ favourite Swamp Thing – by the release of the Strange Times album at the beginning of September, 1986. And it’s an LP that Mark remains particularly proud of.

“I am, and personally – based on my contributions – it’s the best work I’d done by far. Creatively I was very happy with it. It was a very strong record and the writing of the band was evolving, and maturing. Yes, I was extremely proud of it.”

In time, Tony Fletcher – widely seen as a calming influence on the band at a time when differing opinions were coming to the fore – agreed to manage the outfit, but it was a short-lived affair, the new boss’s sudden death after a heart attack ultimately leading to 1987’s split.

“Tony worked for the management company, coming in at their behest to help us, and we developed a very close relationship from there. We wanted him to be our official manager, but for ethical reasons he couldn’t do it, as he was employed by the company managing us. In the end he decided that was what he was going to do, and we were very excited about that, not least as there were a lot of acts he had said no to. He was very much admired in the business.

“But about three weeks after that, he died. That knocked us completely for six. I think it was more things coming to a head, tensions within the group he held in check. Without his influence it kind of erupted. I was very keen to get us back to America, where we were more respected, and Tony was of the opinion we should go out there for a couple of years.

“I was pushing for that, even without Tony, but they were probably right in resisting. Dave, in particular, said without Tony he wasn’t going. It ended up with me and John on one side and Dave on the other, with Reg backing him. It was actually John who left first.”

As it turned out, Mark worked with the band’s drummer soon after, on The Sun and The Moon album project, released on Geffen in 1988.

“Yes, that was a bit strange. He started phoning me up in the weeks after that, saying, ‘Let’s put something new together’. I was very unsure, but when I met with John and the guys he was working with the idea became attractive – getting together with a few mates and writing tunes. It was all very uncomplicated, something I hadn’t enjoyed for a long time.”

Meanwhile, the other two band-mates recorded two albums as The Reegs, and – skipping ahead again – Mark recorded his debut solo LP in 1993 and worked with three other bands before The Chameleons reconvened in early 2000, by which time Mark was based in Hamburg, where he remained between tours until 2010. So what had changed by then to bring about that band reformation?

“As you get older you get a little less extreme and intense, and I knew the popularity of the band was still growing through being in touch with the fan-base directly via the internet. I was weighing all that up against losing these friendships I’d had for so long, when I got a message from Dave asking to meet him, which was surprising.

“We had a few pints, and agreed it would be really great if we could put all that behind us and play some shows. I was quite amazed, because it had all been so bitter and vitriolic.”

716nHGrm+mL._SY355_First came the album Strip (2000), featuring older material reworked in an acoustic format, then the band’s final studio album Why Call It Anything (2001), and further acoustic album, This Never Ending Now (2002), as well as a reunion tour taking in Europe and America. So how does Mark sum up The Chameleons Pt. II?

“I couldn’t really. Initially it was quite amazing, for that first year though. It was first mooted that we did this show at the Witchwood in Ashton-under-Lyne, to which I was incredulous. I said, ‘You’ve got to me joking!’

“Their idea was to announce it, then arrange a second night. Even then, Reg was saying, ‘Do you think it will really go to two nights?’ They had no idea – it became six nights! Then we did the (Manchester) Academy in June 2000, and I can’t describe how I felt walking out of there. It gave me one of the proudest moments I’d ever experienced with The Chameleons.  The massive attendance and rapturous response after 10 years away was an unforgettable moment I’ll always cherish.

“But before long all the old gripes began to come back and I became concerned we were doing things we never would have done before for the pay cheque. Things came to a head. Dave and I are chalk and cheese and I guess it will never be any different. It was all a bit bitter-sweet. Perhaps we should have just come back, done a few shows and left it at that. It was a mistake taking it any further.”

That wasn’t the end of the story though, and in 2009 Mark and John Lever reformed to play back-catalogue material under the name Chameleons Vox. And while John is now back with Dave Fielding, performing and recording as The Red-Sided Garter Snakes, Mark continues to front a five-piece outfit under the Chameleons Vox handle, playing that original material.

And next weekend (December 18/19), Mark and his band are back on old ground at the Manchester Academy 2 for a two-night filmed residency, Home is Where the Heart Is 2015, carrying on from where they left off last year – having played the second and third albums over two nights – as part of the venue’s on-going 25th anniversary celebrations.

On the Friday night, The Fan & The Bellows & Early Recordings will see the band ‘revisit a lost gem in the back-catalogue’, playing their 1986 compilation in its entirety, along with a selection of choice cuts from the earliest days, the set including songs ‘that very rarely if ever have been performed before a wide audience’.

Then on the Saturday night, taking its name from a track from What Does Anything Mean? Basically, they conclude their residency with P.S Goodbye, delivering a set made up entirely of fans’ favourites, attendees having been given the opportunity to vote for the songs they love best in ‘a farewell gesture of sorts’.

“The second night will be a Jukebox Jack, the audience picking three choices of songs they would like to see performed. Manchester shows are always special, and as this is likely to be our last Manchester performance for quite some time, we want to make it doubly so.”

Fans have also been able to snap up weekend passes at a reduced rate, accessing both shows and getting a limited edition Chameleons Vox laminate and lanyard, plus a free download link for an exclusive track recorded at last year’s Academy shows. And also on the bill are (on Friday) Evi Vine and From Carbon, then (on Saturday) old friends of the band Oskar’s Drum, a project by Patrick Fitzgerald and Yves Altana (Kitchens of Distinction/Chameleons Vox).

Band Substance: Mark Burgess puts his best foot forward with Chameleons Vox

Band Substance: Mark Burgess puts his best foot forward with Chameleons Vox

“We’ve done it the last couple of years, rounding the year off with shows. They’ve all been really great. And the tour we’ve done this year is the biggest we’ve ever done, including South America, where we’ve never been before.”

It’s clearly not just the first-timers coming out to these shows either, with lots of younger fans turned on to The Chameleons these days. Is that down to bands out there who acknowledge your influence, like The Killers and The Editors?

“We’ve always been a musicians’ band, so a lot of people come and see us play and have been influenced that way. Then there are a lot of kids whose fathers are huge fans.”

Has college radio in the US been important too?

“Historically, that’s how the band did get known out there, although I’m not sure how influential it is these days with the internet.”

Looking at your latest homecoming, Manchester Academy has been an important venue for you over the years, but The Chameleons have been around longer. So which Manchester venues were important to you back at the beginning?

“We started off playing the Gallery on Peter Street, with fantastic memories. I actually saw REM there (1984), The Church (possibly 1982), and a few others. That was a great little place. Then there was The Band on the Wall of course, and we played the Free Trade Hall, where my first ever show was, seeing T-Rex in ’73 or ’74.”

Moving away from music for a while, I understand you worked for Manchester City FC for a while (in the mid-’90s). Do you still follow City, or do you see them as just another big money club now?

“Oh, I’m a dyed-in-the-wool City fan, and have been for 40–odd years.”

Cold Comfort: The Chameleons, back in the day, during their Statik tenure

Cold Comfort: The Chameleons, back in the day, during their Statik tenure

But your Dad – Albert Burgess – played for Manchester United?

“Yes, around 1955/6. All his friends were on the plane, actually. But he came off a motorcycle on Queens Road and smashed his leg in the weeks leading up to that, and that was the end of it. My Dad played for Manchester Boys and was in the Army at the time, and like a lot of people augmented his Army pay by playing for factory teams around the region. A United scout picked him up and he became an apprentice there, meeting Matt Busby with my grandfather, signing as a full-time professional. He was a great footballer, my Dad.”

Did that skill pass on to you?

“No. I wasn’t interested … which frustrated the shit out of him! I was happy to play on a Sunday, have a kick-around with my mates, but at school I wasn’t interested really. They were encouraging me, but it was only music that really got me passionate.”

So where’s home these days? I’m guessing you’re living back in Manchester again.

“I’m only here when we’re working, when there are things to do with the band. I spend a lot of time – about half the year – in the United States, the last couple of years in Florida.”

It’s not a bad life then, is it?

“It’s beautiful there.”

But you need a bit of Manchester rain now and again just to remind you of your roots?

“I get plenty of rain there, but Manchester’s a magnet and I’ll never stop coming back here.”

I’m guessing it keeps you grounded.

“It does.”

Talking of grounded, that brings me back on to the original Chameleons line-up, and the question I have to ask. Is there still animosity with your old band-mates?

“There’s a couple of guys I don’t speak to or have anything to do with, but I don’t really want to talk about it. I’d prefer to focus on positive things. I’m about the music really – that’s all that matters to me.”

Manchester Roots: Mark Burgess, heading back to the Academy with his band

Manchester Roots: Mark Burgess, heading back to the Academy with his band

The official line is that your latest line-up, Chameleons Vox, is ‘a vehicle for the perpetual performance of Chameleons material by people who have a deep passion for the music and a desire to keep the music alive in the wake of the original band’s demise in 2003’, with yourself ‘backed by a loose collection of musicians currently spanning two continents’. Can you explain that a bit more?

“It’s been evolving for the last five years. A lot of people have come and gone, and initially we weren’t really so concerned with getting the sound of the band, but just wanted the spirit of the music. All those who have been involved were all very passionate about this music, so initially that was the thing.

“Then, as it grew, we were thinking that if we were going to do this we owe it to the music , the legacy of the music and the people coming to try and do it as well as we can. So the emphasis came on to trying to perfect it, and I think we’ve got to the point where the band I play with now play that music as well as it can be played outside the original line-up.

“But there have been a lot of people who have come along at one time or another, and they’ve all been fantastic. We’re more like a cooperative.”

In one interview I heard you suggesting Chamelons Vox was more like Star Trek – The Next Generation. So, as the Chameleons’ captain, would you say you’re more a Captain James T. Kirk or a Captain Jean-Luc Picard figure?

“Oh, I’m definitely a Jim Kirk.”

Finally, do you have any regrets about the fact that – despite all your loyal fans, the love for your music out there, and the influence you continue to have – it was U2 who ended up making it big time, rather than The Chameleons?

“Well, what does that mean, really? To have feelings like that you’ve got to be dissatisfied with your life, and I’m not at all. What The Chameleons had given me is the complete freedom to do what I want, when I want, where I want, and with whom I want.

“I’ve been free – and I mean free – I go to bed when I want, get up when I want, I don’t have to jump on the shovel when someone shouts ‘shit’, and I’ve never been in a situation where I’ve never been able to do what I want for lack of resources, and I can walk down the street and go anywhere I want without being mithered.”

For further details and tickets for Chameleons Vox: Home is Where The Heart Is at Manchester Academy 2 (Friday, December 18 and Saturday, December 19) head to the venue’s official website link, or the venue’s Facebook page.

 

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Beyond The Dubious Brothers – catching up with Monty (part two)

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

‘What became of the man who wanted so much more … than just grazing his knee on the ground?’                                                                                                           (The Man Who Jumped from the First Floor)

If you’re reading this in the hope of catching The Dubious Brothers live sometime soon … sorry. That’s something you’ll have to take up with Monty (and like Adele, Bjork, Donovan and Prince, we won’t bother with surnames here). But you only have to read a few recent social media threads to realise that this revered frontman is getting plenty of pressure to do it all again.

That’s in no short part due to the success of his pretty much unique collective’s most recent farewell in mid-November. ‘Most recent farewell’? Yes, apologies to Monty for that, but I think we’re all still in denial about it all being over … again. And he did shoot himself in the foot by making it so bloody good (adds a bloke who was 215 miles away at the time, unfortunately).

He’s even got a new Time Machine (the best ever by all accounts), so it seems a shame not to use that again. And then there’s The Dubious Brothers: The Next Generation – Monty’s new youth wing, the choir that introduced a memorable final show. We wouldn’t want them back out on the streets, doing urchin-like stuff, surely. No pressure though, Monty. It’s your call.

Anyway, I’m hoping you’ve come to this feature after reading the ‘part one’ feature that pre-empted (just about) that historic Islington Assembly Hall goodbye. That being the case, I shouldn’t have to do so much of an introduction for those who don’t already know The Dubious Brothers. You can just back-click and start there, because it doesn’t get any easier explaining the whole concept.

‘Dream a thousand dreams of censored scenes of Valentino in Baghdad. The night burns like a Turkish cigarette. I’ve lost my heart, now I’ve lost my appetite’.                                                                                                                                  (My Goodness! This Bazaar is Like a Jungle)

As I suggested in my last piece, this is a more personal nostalgic retrospective of the band, alongside a bit of a potted history of the life and times of Monty – before, during and after the DBs. And now we’ve got that housekeeping out of the way, let’s properly start ‘part two’, in which I carry on where I left off, having just cherry-picked the pre-Islington stuff from our conversation last time.

Tax Deduction: From the writewyattuk vaults

Tax Deduction: From the writewyattuk vaults

I will go over a little of that old ground first though, in reference to the 10 times I saw the band between mid-July 1987 and the end of March, 1990, as nostalgically shared over the phone with Monty. And the first and last of those dates were two of six DB gigs I saw at the Fulham Greyhound, along with one at the nearby King’s Head …

“That was a good gig. I remember that. I think we either did one or two at the King’s Head. That was a really good night, and we got signed that night by our management company.”

Then there was one at Guildford’s Lockwood Day Centre, the charity gig at which I interviewed you – 27 and a bit years ago, frighteningly – for my Captain’s Log fanzine. And I saw you supporting The Corn Dollies at the Marquee.

“Oh yeah, I remember that. Janice Long was there. She played our stuff on her show.”

‘He said, ‘You’re going to Christmas Island for your Country & your Queen, so get up & join the ranks & watch the Atom Bomb’. I tried to appeal to his gentler side, but he hadn’t got one – I’m sorry, I tried.’                                       (Britannia’s Grand Machine) 

My other Dubious Brothers happening in those early years was at midnight (or thereabouts) on the Saturday at Glastonbury Festival in the summer of 1989.

“Ah, you came to Glastonbury, did you?”

Absolutely. I can’t pretend it was just for you, but …

“Just a happy coincidence then.”

It was definitely one of the major draws for me that year. In fact, that was my second Glastonbury, and somehow I haven’t made it back since.

“Well, I’m actually looking at a poster for that as we speak, having managed to track one down recently.”

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

Yes, it appears that there’s quite a market out there for the band’s memorabilia all these years on, not least with the vinyl – their two albums – reaching big prices on certain internet auction sites. The good news though is that I still have my vinyl copies of debut album Absolute Bethlehem, follow-up The Foresight Saga (recently re-issued on vinyl by German company Fire Station Records, the initial batch of numbered copies quickly selling out) and the 12” of  The Dog Ate My Poll Tax Form.

‘Travel in time with me, Inspector Le Strade – from Whitehall 1212 to New Scotland Yard’.                                                                                                         (Inspector Le Strade)

There’s clearly plenty of call for cut-out features from the music press too, flogged online. Which is worth thinking about for all those scraps I still have at writewyattuk hq. But let’s go back a bit further, getting Monty to tell us a bit about his ‘80s alternative dance synth-pop disaster’ Promises Promises.

“Oh, did you never hear us? I’ll tell you what, someone put it on YouTube … and it’s definitely not bloody me!”

Mmm … I’ve since listened to Monty’s sole Promises Promises waxing from 1984, Can You Take the Risk? And despite the odd good line and nifty chord change, well … yeah, think of it all as half-baked electronic pop. Heaven Eight and a Half, maybe (and that’s quite a generous mark in the circumstances).

“Basically, we were just starting out, doing our thing, getting into bands, and three of us formed our own – myself, Dave Bird (a future Dubious Brother) and Rachel Flint. We had a single out – a-side pop, b-side dance … whatever. Just horrific. But you’ve got to learn, haven’t you.”

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

‘The padre he preaches, he does what he pleases. He thinks God’s an expert on nervous diseases.’                                                                                               (Absolute Bethlehem) 

You set up your own ‘bedroom label’ for that single and the first two DB singles and album, Fend For Yourself. Forget all this modern PledgeMusic palaver – you were a true indie spirit way before all that. Was this the ‘do it yourself’ message you took from the punk years?

“Well, at first we got distribution from Probe Plus up in Liverpool, the Half Man Half Biscuit people. They were fantastic and pressed all the vinyl for us.”

Yes, and in our last interview all those years ago you reminded me about the tale of a band practising in the next room when debut HMHB album, Back in the DHSS, was made – later asking for royalties, as you could hear them in the quieter bits. But that’s another story.

And between Promises Promises and The Dubious Brothers you had the Third Spiritual Foundation as well. I won’t even attempt to explain the concept behind the latter here, but Monty does on the sleevenotes to the band’s Antiques best of CD, so I suggest you just shell out for that and find out for yourself.

“That was my best idea ever … apart from the music, which was still a bit synth-poppy. This is my great failing – I want to go all weird, disturbing and mysterious, but couldn’t not have a catchy tune in there. Visually it was fantastic, complete with two shop dummies. But I missed a bit of a trick there.”

‘I’ve got a new car phone that goes with my vasectomy…’                         (Falling Masonry)

Those were different times, for sure. But in an era when the industry was seemingly seeking out more C86 type bands, you didn’t quite fit in with what the record companies were looking for. Your influences were a little more theatrical, shall we say.

“I remember talking to A&R men on the phone, them telling us our type of music was never going to make it, with one talking about trying to coerce this band to sign, The Mighty Lemon Drops, who he said everyone was desperate to sign. But every band I saw just seemed to be the same.”

I could take issue with Monty there, seeing as I particularly loved the first Droppies album and truly rated them live. I take his wider point though – there was room for bands far removed from that scene, not least his own inspirational collective, who he saw of as more in the spirit of more theatrical bands like Cardiacs and The Tubes. How did it come to all this though? Was there a lightbulb moment when he realised where he’d be heading next, forming The Dubious Brothers?

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

“Definitely – it was The Singing Detective. That pretty much changed my life, certainly musically. The way Dennis Potter juxtaposed the old music and made it darker. It was chirpy, sweet, 1930s’ and 1940s’ innocent music, yet he put it in a context of something that was much darker.

“That was one of the catalysts for what we eventually became. We were still synth-poppy, and didn’t really change until the first album. South America got a bit more swingy, but that darker old music hall, ‘decaying Britain’ thing didn’t really happen until that first album.”

‘But Lord, if you are up there, when no one else is looking – me, them, five minutes & an iron rod.’                                                                                          (Revenge)

I read somewhere that you never made a connection with The Doobie Brothers name thing though. I can’t believe that. And there was me thinking that was the one of the greatest-ever name puns in music.

“I didn’t make the connection at all. Do you know, there are about five bands called The Dubious Brothers now? That includes a hip-hop band in New Zealand and a covers band in Wiltshire. I know about them because when Michael Eavis was thinking about booking us for Glastonbury he noticed that The Dubious Brothers were on in some pub, so went to see them with his wife. But when he got there he realised it wasn’t the band he thought it was.”

Blimey. I bet they were getting a bit excited at the prospect, I add, prompting Monty’s … erm …  dubious Somerset accent, imagining the excitement of that band at realising Mr Eavis was out there in the audience.

“God knows how old they are now, but I think they’re still going. Then there’s some band in Singapore, another in America … there are around three or four Montys out there as well, so I’m not quite sure how I managed to get away without using a surname.”

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

‘And when we die we think that’s heaven’s like a golf club – all the undesirables will be left out. And special angels will administer the spankings – there’ll be queues to join without a doubt.’                                        (An Englishman’s Home is his Toilet)

Am I right that the very first gig – involving three DBs and a drum machine – was at the Riverside Club in Fetcham (not far from Monty’s Banstead and Epsom roots and one of my favourite venues of days gone by)? I saw some great bands there. Not you though.

“Well, there was one I did there by myself as The Dubious Brothers too, pre-dating even the Third Spiritual Foundation, if my memory serves me correct. And the Riverside Club was just such a part of growing up for me.”

At this point I digress and talk about bands I’d seen there, dusting off my anecdote about the night The Wedding Present turned up only to find they’d been double-booked. They decided to leave, leaving an apologetic note for their travelling fans, someone soon half-inching it (not me, unfortunately).

So was Monty nervous for those early shows, or was he a born showman?

“The fridge light comes on and I do 20 minutes (at this point Monty leaves just long enough for a comedy drum lick). Being on stage has never ever bothered me. I probably do get nervous but maybe it manifests itself in different ways, like getting ratty. But I don’t feel nervous when I’m there.”

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

‘Now you deal with Krugerrands, & your blood money drips through your bloody hands’.                                                                                                                  (South America Welcomes The Nazis)

“The only time I can think of is probably two minutes before we were due to go on in Wuppertal, as I suddenly realised where we were and that I was wearing a British Army outfit, Steve was wearing an RAF uniform, we had gas masks on, and I’m about to sing a song called South America Welcomes the Nazis. I just hadn’t twigged, because we were so excited about our first tour of Germany, but then suddenly realised this could all go horrendously wrong.”

But as it turned out, they loved you out there, I seem to recall.

“They absolutely loved us. A lot of those places were just fantastic. We would be going off after about 45 minutes in those days, and they’d be asking for ‘more, more, more’, expecting us to do two sets. We had five encores, because they just expected that.”

The other day I was checking something out about one of my favourite bands, The Blue Aeroplanes, and was astounded at the list of personnel involved over the years. That made me wonder how many people have played with The Dubious Brothers over the years. For example, how many surgeons have joined you on stage?

“Surgeons? Not that many – probably half a dozen. With surgeons it used to be a case of whoever’s available. They didn’t have to do massive rehearsals. They just had to be free that day … and tall.”

‘My Daddy, he bought me an electric guitar for my birthday … but I want to be a yes man!’                                                                                                                        (Yes Man)

While we’re playing the numbers game, you mentioned a gig in Nottingham where just two punters turned up, and this at a time when you’d always be hopeful someone in the crowd would offer the band accommodation that night to avoid a long drive home.

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

“Yeah, we used to wing it, just assuming someone would put us up for the night. That evening we were waiting and waiting for the audience to turn up, and eventually there were just two, who told us they only came because their friends had seen us in Colchester.

“The boys were saying, ‘Well, we can’t do the gig then’, but I said, ‘We have to – they’ve turned up and paid!’ So we did it, and at the end I asked, ‘Is there any chance we can stay with you tonight?’ The husband said, ‘Yeah, absolutely’. His wife was just looking at him, incredulous.

“So we piled back to their house. But the van we’d hired didn’t have a lock on the back door and we had all our gear in there, so we drew straws and I ended up sleeping in the van, waking up with the taste of oil in my mouth and with snow coming down. It was just horrific and I was wondering why we were doing this – we’d just driven all those miles to play to two people, there I was sleeping in the back of a van, and it was snowing.

“I went into the house the next morning and everyone was up, with the husband and wife waiting to go to work. And the husband said, ‘Alright lads, just let yourself out when you’re done,’ to which his wife said, ‘You’re kidding! Get out!’ And there was our guitarist asking, ‘Any chance of a cup of tea?’”

‘I haven’t seen a magistrate since I was 17. You must believe me, Constable, I’ve kept my nose clean.’                                                                                                 (Could Have Been)

“But that sort of stuff happened to us, and in our first gig at Warwick University – where we went on to have so much success – a stone went into the windscreen on the M25 and totally shattered the screen, at which point we decided to go home and go up in three different cars instead. And we were only getting paid around £50. So we went all the way back, loaded up our cars and tried again, turning up late but doing the show, going down well and being re-booked.

“It was similar at Colchester Arts Centre, where they told us we were brilliant and asked if they could persuade loads of people to come down if we would play there again. We said, ‘Yeah, what date?’ and they said, ‘No – do it now, a bit later tonight’. So we went on again at about 11, for about 50 or 60 people. And by the time we finished we were selling out there.”

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

You mention having to play balls at Oxford, big corporate shows and so on. Surely you hated those gigs, performing in front of the sons and daughters of those fox-hunting families you were singing about, those future freemasons …

“Well, yeah, because at any kind of ball you’re just the entertainment, so they haven’t come to see you but just be entertained by someone, and with some of these corporate dos we’d do a song like Inspector Le Strade, with a Latin beat they could dance to, probably not even knowing who we were. The money was good, but it was fairly demoralising.”

‘Soon you’ll high jump in our Olympic team, ‘cos we put Ex-Lax in your Bristol Cream.’                                                                                                                  (What a Lovely Day for a Hunt Sabotage)

In our first interview all those years before, you told me that outside your Dubious Brothers existence you were writing songs for El Records. Did that carry on for some time?

“I came in at the end of El Records, so I was never one of their artists, but I did write for their compilation albums, including Abracadabra – The Magnificent Triviality, for which I did Mr Inconsistent. I wrote about eight of those tracks, including two for a fantastic singer called Her, singing Imran Khan and Eligible Bachelor, plus a glam rock one, and various others. And after all that I wrote lots of songs for Mike Alway, who ran El Records, for his new label Exotica, writing a lot of football records.”

That should have been a good experience for a big Tottenham fan like yourself.

“Well, the best-selling one was Ryan Giggs We Love You.”

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

Since our conversation, I’ve found that on the net, recorded under the name of The Rainbow Choir. And it’s bloody awful, as I might have expected. Perhaps even as unsettling as the sight of the Wales and Manchester United maestro’s chest wig during that 1999 shirt-rotating run following his FA Cup semi-final replay wonder goal against Arsenal.

”I did refuse to do their Arsenal album, but did all the others. And I also did TV themes.”

‘She pursued me up the chimney & she chased me up the flue, & the sun doesn’t shine anymore!’                                                                                                          (Oh! Mother Borden)  

That brings me nicely on to the fact that I’m quite surprised you’ve never gone down the staged theatrical line with The Dubious Brothers. I could see you adapting those songs into some form of musical, one far removed from the hideous world of Andrew Lloyd Webber. Think Lionel Bart’s Oliver! mixed with the best elements of Mel Brooks, Noel Coward, Eric Idle and Neil Innes, maybe.

“Dubious Brothers – The Musical? Well, I’d always quite fancied writing a musical, but I’d want to write something completely different. And then The Book of Mormon happened, and then Avenue Q … so that avenue is probably closed to me now. I would have wanted to take the piss out of the musical, but South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut is so good you can’t really do that now. They got Les Miserables so fantastically well, there are so few places to go with it now.

“Maybe we should go back to a traditional one now, doing a musical dead straight instead of taking the mick. It was something I thought about, but then came my three solo albums after the band ended, so that was that.”

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

‘And we can conclude that irony’s a funny old theatrical device when you become the first Aryan on Mars.’                                                                            (You’re Wernher von Braun & I Claim My Five Pounds) 

Speaking of which, there was talk about another Monty solo album to follow 1993’s A Typical Scorpio (which I had first time around, albeit taped by a mate), then 1996’s The Napoleon Complex and 2006’s The Judas Window (which I’m only just catching up on now, via Monty’s website). Have I missed that fourth album coming out?

“You haven’t missed it. I’ve been writing it for nearly 10 years. I have an idea, but it won’t be an album by me. Well, it will be by me, but no one will know it’s me. I said before that the Third Spiritual Foundation was the best idea I ever had, but this is probably just as good.”

He’s teasing us there, I reckon, and certainly being mysterious, but I’m sure we’ll learn more over time. So is this … erm … latest Dubious Brothers farewell gig just the end of another phase in the rather skewed career of Monty?

“Yeah, it’s not the end of me, but you can’t go on singing about the Poll Tax forever. We won that victory, you know! We released a 12” single about it and the Government abolished it the year after. The Dubious Brothers’ influence just extends beyond all musical boundaries!”

He’s got a point. Take that, Midge Ure and Bob Geldof – because we’ve still got poverty, haven’t we.

“Exactly.”

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

‘Now don’t get me wrong, I’m no sinner. Don’t think I’m reluctant to pay. But if you send the bailiffs round when this Bill goes through, my doggie is going to eat you.’                                                                                                                 (The Dog Ate My Poll Tax Form)

I was reminded from looking back at our last interview that Monty used to work for The Stranglers, which is rather apt seeing as I interviewed Hugh Cornwell the previous week. So what kind of phase was that?

“A kind of schoolboy phase! I was 16 or 17. It was a part-time job, and I got fired, I think. I used to be obsessed with The Stranglers, which is very strange listening back now. The music is fantastic, but some of the lyrics were unbelievably retrograde. No one would get away with doing what they did today.

“Lyrically, they were so childish, but when you are a child, you don’t think about all that. The combination of the bass and keyboards was so menacing, but then you get a song about Iran, and what they felt was going to happen there. ‘We shall see’. Mmm … such incredible insight.”

Talking of issue-led songs, I was a bit surprised that What a Lovely Day for a Hunt Sabotage was not on 2009 Dubious Brothers CD compilation Antiques. Was there some kind of problem there?

“Yeah, we just thought it might be a little dodgy. But it’s satire … it’s just me being slightly over-cautious, and it’s back in full force now.”

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

‘In the quagmire of your mind you call emotion, the harpoon in your heart will disappear. In the time it takes to walk the Blue Whale, the path is crystal clear’.                                                                                                                         (The Blue Whale)

How about further The Foresight Saga favourite The Blue Whale? That was also missing. I always loved the concept of that song, the idea that your life’s worries will be put into context and realised as being truly trivial in the scheme of things once you’ve seen the colossal plankton king ‘whose beguiling eye sees all’ in the Natural History Museum. A top tune’n’all.

“Well, people do love The Blue Whale. It’s not my favourite. It’s just a bit too Eric Idle for me. That said, I actually went to see it recently for the first time in years, with Joe actually.”

That’s his son, I should add, who as well as a cameo part in Oh! Mother Borden during the Islington send-off (as mentioned in part one) had further input in the last live gig, something I left out last time as I didn’t want to give too much away. But as Monty told me at the time, “He comes on at the end for a moment I’ve been waiting 28 years to hear. I say, ‘Joseph, have you got anything to ask your Dad?’ And he says, ‘Daddy?’ And I say ‘Yes, son?’ And he says, ‘Is that a Messerschmitt?’ And I say, ‘No son, that’s a Heinkel’.

A beautiful moment, as I’m sure all British fathers and sons of a certain age will agree.

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

Photo copyright: Ashley Jones

‘I’m 10 years ahead of my time … must be Martin Peters.’                         (Martin Peters)

I could carry on a bit from there, and mention the first album’s synth-heavy Martin Peters too – something of a Carter USM prototype arguably – and how its general theme of being ‘ahead of your time’ sums up Monty so well, not least the fact that somehow he’s not a mainstream success … for all his creative genius.

But he probably won’t want to hear that, so instead I’ll leave it there and just finish with a respectful nod and a ‘God bless you, guv’nor. And please come back soon.’

‘Oh thank you very much for being such a bunch of kind & lovely men. Thank you very much, I’m glad you kept in touch, you drove us round the bend.’     (A Heck of a Dubious Day)

  • With an extra ‘thank you very much’ to Ashley Jones for the live shots from Islington Assembly Hall (with a Flickr link here), and Monty for permission (of sorts) for the reproduction of his wondrous lines.
  • And to catch up on the  back-catalogue and see where it all goes next, head to Monty’s webpages here.

 

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Listening in … with the Band on the Rum – the Mark Radcliffe interview

Me Hearties: Mark Radcliffe and his Galleon Blast shipmates, all set for Sheffield and Preston

Me Hearties: Mark Radcliffe and his Galleon Blast shipmates, all set for Sheffield and Preston

Attention landlubbers. It looks like there’ll be something in the water in Lancashire next weekend, with Galleon Blast all set to splice their collective mainbraces by the River Ribble in Preston, heading for The Continental on Saturday, December 12th.

They’ll be arriving en route from a visit to The Greystones, Sheffield, two days earlier. And as I was saying to the band’s drummer, Mark Radcliffe – during a brief break from putting together his BBC 6 Music afternoon show – if there’s one thing in the world we haven’t got enough of, it’s pirate-themed bands.

“Well, clearly.”

It was with that in mind that this Cheshire-based music aficionado expanded his five-piece outfit Mark Radcliffe and the Foes into a septet (one short of pieces of eight, you could say), aiming for a more raucous audience experience. And while his new-look band reckon they were ‘press-ganged into service by an unscrupulous gangmaster from the Spanish Main (well, Knutsford actually)’, they at least have a little shore leave ‘to ply their raggle-taggle trade’.

Punters who turn up at those afore-mentioned Red and White Rose venues can expect ‘a selection of rum-soaked songs and shanties’, including tunes previously appropriated by The Pogues, The Dubliners, The Waterboys, Fisherman’s Friends, and Ewan MacColl. But why are these banjo, whistle, accordion and fiddle-playing pirates calling themselves Galleon Blast? Is it ‘because they arrgghh’? Well, let’s ask Mark, aka ‘the Jack Sparrow (or Jack Duckworth) of the Radio 2 Folk Show’ to explain himself.

“We had a little band called Mark Radcliffe and The Foes, very kind of low-key, chatty and downbeat songs, and people kept saying, ‘Come and play our beer festival’ or ‘Come and play our folk festival’. But it was too miserable to do festivals with, so we thought, ‘What should we do about that?’

“When my wife, Bella, turned 40 we had a party on our garden, a little festival we called Glastonbella. And her brother, a trombone player, brought a brass quartet called Galleon Blast – an anagram of Glastonbella – which I thought was a superb name.

“Then, while on holiday in America, I saw a sailing ship on the Florida Keys and thought it looked great, and having this name stored in my mind thought, let’s do all that – then we can do songs like The Irish Rover, a lot of sea shanties, and so on. So I texted my wing-man, mandolin player Chris Lee, from Florida, saying, ‘I’m back a week on Saturday. Get all the others together – this is what we’re doing’. And when I’d come back it was sorted!”

1782174_772792492733202_7763325827650177429_nPersonnel-wise, are you more or less The Foes plus two then?

“Yes. With The Foes I sang and played guitar, but I’ve gone back on the drums now as well as singing, and we’ve a new vocalist/guitarist, Nick Mitchell, and a female fiddle player, Fluff. So there are seven of us, which is a brilliant plan – it guarantees we never make any money!”

I admit to Mark that it’s taken me a while to get the band name right, having gone with Galleon Drunk at first.

“Well, there’s already a band called Gallon Drunk”.

Exactly – so maybe Galleon Drunk could at least be the title of your first album.

“Ah, but our first album is called Band on the Rum.”

Inspired. So are Galleon Blast taking over from your Dr Feelgood tribute band, Mark Radcliffe and the Big Figures?

“The Big Figures is defunct. The last time I played at the Conti was with The Big Figures. Those are all my mates from the (nearby) Longton area, and they’ll all be coming this time too. They’re starting up again with a different singer, because I’m too busy, but that was great fun. They were a great band, so I’ll be delighted for them to be playing again. And I’m also starting to do a few shows on my own, involving some Foes songs … and a lot of talking.”

Sort of Mark Radcliffe Unplugged?

“Unhinged, more like. Yeah, I’m kind of feeling my way into all that, seeing how it goes.”

You’ll be going some to ever reach the meteoric heights you did with The Shirehorses though, surely (the band Mark he had with his radio rhythm buddy Marc Riley, best known for classic cuts like Why Is It Always Dairylea? (as ripped off by Travis), A Roll With It (as plagiarised by Oasis), and Feel Like Shite (which Supergrass famously put a happy spin on).

“I think that’s the only band I’ll ever do arenas with – when we played with Blur. That was really hilarious.”

I understand The Shirehorses turned down an appearance on Phoenix Nights, performing as folk band Half a Shilling, after concern over the script.

Rhythm Buddies: Mark Radcliffe and Marc Riley (Photo: BBC)

Rhythm Buddies: Mark Radcliffe and Marc Riley (Photo: BBC)

“We did. Tim Healy stepped in instead. It was probably a mistake, really. I can’t really remember how we came to that conclusion, but we made a lot of odd decisions back then, like doing a full tour and never having any t-shirts. I remember sitting in the pub, saying if we get these t-shirts done we’d have to go and see someone in Preston. But we decided we couldn’t be bothered, deciding to stay and have another couple of pints. That was how our decisions were made in those days. We weren’t exactly young businessmen of the year.”

It’s the kind of disregard for ambition I appreciate, a bit like the story of Half Man Half Biscuit turning down Channel 4’s The Tube – even with a helicopter offered to get them to the studio – because their beloved Tranmere Rovers playing that night.

“Well, I remember the time we didn’t go to The Brits because there was a pub quiz on in the Railway.”

Of course, I shouldn’t really be talking to Mark – seeing as I tend to refuse to go near tribute bands with a rock’n’roll style barge-pole. So how can I justify an interview with someone who’s been in a string of tribute acts (of sorts)?

“What? The Shirehorses? A tribute act? I think you’ve got that wrong, Malc. I think you’ll find a lot of people were a tribute to us. Let’s have it right.”

Fair point. In fact, while he’s in combative mode, I bring up a more controversial subject, that he was once with Skrewdriver, sitting in after an invite from his pal, Phil Walmsley. That was however during their non-political, non-racist punk days, before the band – without Mark and Phil – reinvented themselves as white supremacist, far right, neo-Nazis.

Actually, Mark explains all that in his hugely entertaining 1998 multi-band memoir, Showbusiness: The Diary of a Rock ‘N’ Roll Nobody, but I bring it up anyway.  Is that something he wishes he could just remove from his CV?

“Probably, but that’s why I wrote about it. It’s much worse for Phil – who was also in the Big Figures – as it was his band at school. They went through an amazing time playing in London in ’76 and ’77 when the punk thing exploded, yet it’s all been tarnished now. Such a shame.

“I’m pretty clear on who I am though, and what it was about when I was in it – very briefly. Suggs was their roadie early on too, so there were a lot of people connected. But then it all went in a different direction.

“You’re probably right – it’s best to have no association at all. There will always be people who think, ‘no smoke without fire’, but there’s not much I can do about that other than to be completely clear in my conscience and know exactly what it was about when I was in it. If people choose not to believe me, there’s not much I can do about that. But anyone who knows me, if asked whether Mark Radcliffe was a racist, would say, ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’”

With that cleared up, I move on to safer ground, reminding Mark he’s 57 now yet still happily spends his spare time on the pub and club trail.

“I don’t know what else I’d do really. I always thought it was a young man’s game, but perhaps The Rolling Stones thought that. I work on the radio, I look after my family, children and grandchildren, and my ‘me time’ involves going out, playing drums, drinking some beer and doing gigs. I still love it, so why would I stop?”

Stage Presence: Noddy Holder and Mark Radcliffe

Stage Presence: Noddy Holder and Mark Radcliffe

Last time I saw Mark in Preston was at the Charter Theatre, joining forces with his celebrity pal Noddy Holder and talking about his life in music, not least his days with the mighty Slade. They proved to be a great live double-act too, as publicised on this blog via this review at the time. Are they still doing a few shows?

“Not really. We just did one tour. I don’t really know what Nod wants to do. He’s really got to decide whether he wants to sing or not … but I think he doesn’t really, and I love him for that, especially when everyone else seems to be reforming. If he got Slade back together, he could make an absolute fortune. But he doesn’t really need it, and he’s happy with his life. I don’t think he wants to do it really. I still see him quite often though.”

Has Mark ever got over the thrill of being so close to the voice behind all those classic songs (and arguably the man who personifies Christmas more than any other living legend)?

“I think I have. He’s the only celebrity person who’s a proper friend. People like Guy Garvey and that are friends, but Nod’s the only kind of iconic person who’s a friend. But I am beyond that now really. You can’t go anywhere without Nod being recognised, and people are always so pleased to see him. But I just like his company – he’s just a nice fella.”

Having labelled Mark and Nod as a double-act, I move on to Radcliffe’s broadcasting collaborations, not just with Marc Riley (aka Lard) then Stuart Maconie, but also his Glastonbury Festival co-presenters, like fellow BBC 6 Music DJ Lauren Laverne and Jo Whiley. It’s hardly the worst job in the world, what with all this on-air doubling-up, is it?

“It seems to work in that way. Stuart’s off at the moment, so I’ve been doing a couple of weeks on my own, and like that too, but it’s nice to have someone to chat to and you get to places you wouldn’t on your own – the conversation leads to different places. I never really planned it that way, but it seems to work out okay.”

In my newspaper reporting days, I often interviewed golden or diamond wedding couples, leading to that inevitable question about their ‘secret of success’ in staying together so long. In radio terms, Mark’s 14 years with Marc Riley and around eight and a half with Stuart so far suggest a comparative parallel. So what’s the secret? Is it ‘give and take’, as those veteran pairs would often say?

Radio Understanding: Mark Radcliffe and Stuart Maconie

Radio Understanding: Mark Radcliffe and Stuart Maconie

“I suppose so. My relationship with Stuart is very different to that I had with Marc. When Marc and I started we were both learning how to do it and were best mates, together all the time. Stuart and I live separate lives and are at a different stage of life. He lives in Birmingham and sometimes in the Lake District, so we don’t see each other socially that much. But we make each other laugh.

“We’ve never sat down and worked out who does this and who does that. You do however develop a kind of understanding. If sometimes there’s a bit of needle, you know you can push a button and make that worse, or back off. You can’t work that close with someone and there never be a disagreement, but they’re only slight and fleeting moments.

“When I started with Marc, it was my show and he was just the sidekick. With Stuart we started on a much more equal footing. It’s hard to break it down really, but there’s often a nod, a wink and a look and we know what each of us is doing.”

Meanwhile, this Boltonian’s own radio career is now well into its fourth decade, going back to his formative broadcasting days on Manchester commercial station Piccadilly Radio.

“Yes, I started at Piccadilly in September 1979, just after university – as an assistant producer of drama and classical music, believe it or not. I stumbled into it. I wanted to be in a band, and didn’t take looking for a job or any career thoughts very seriously. Kids today are under a lot of pressure to decide what they want to do, whereas I had no idea when I left uni but thought anything to do with music would be okay.

“I kind of made a deal with myself – if I got some work I enjoyed I’d take that rather than chasing money. If I could get a semi-detached house and a reliable saloon car I thought that would be okay really. It’s turned out a bit better than that … but only because a series of happy accidents. I never really wanted to do any presenting, and never did student radio.

“But when I was at Piccadilly Radio and there were all those Factory Records around and Joy Division happening, I said to the people in charge, ‘We should be playing this stuff. It’s kind of an important part of our town now’. They said, ‘We haven’t got anybody who knows enough about it to do a programme’, and I said, ‘How hard can it be? I’ll do it!’ So they let me have Saturday afternoons during the football close season – and that’s where it began really.”

That show was Transmission. Has he listened back to the old reels in recent years?

Broadcasting Legend: John Peel

Broadcasting Legend: John Peel

“Yes, while writing one of my books I found an old cassette, and was quite surprised – I sounded like a manic depressive. I think I was trying to be Manchester’s John Peel, deliberately being as far away as I could from the other DJs, all very ‘Smashy and Nicey’. I think I was just marking my territory. I didn’t find it an easy listen, but I suppose it marked me out as different from everybody else there at the time.”

Pretty soon, Mark switched to the BBC, getting to know some of his broadcasting heroes along the way, not least through recording shifts at Maida Vale for those legendary Peel Sessions, Billy Bragg among those he produced.

“I went as a producer in 1983, and loved doing sessions for Billy, as you were finished after a couple of hours to go to the pub! There was only him and his guitar. Brilliant!

“I couldn’t believe it when I went to Radio 1. I remember sitting in my little office when there was a knock on the door and there was Anne Nightingale, who I’d listened to for years, asking if I was alright. It was an incredible time, getting to know Peel and all those people.

“Absolutely thrilling, even just walking up from the Tube and through the front doors of Broadcasting House – maybe the most famous building connected with broadcasting in the whole world. It just seemed extraordinary really. It was all going too well.”

In time came Radio 5’s Hit the North (1990) and a long spell with Marc Riley on Radio 1 from 1993, the pair proving a major success in the weekday evenings, before a short run in the coveted Breakfast Show spot then seven years in the afternoons, winning three Sony Gold Awards en route.

Then came the Radio 2 years, Mark in time joining forces with Stuart Maconie, the pair heading to 6 Music in early 2011. That said, Mark continues to present on Radio 2, where his duties include The Folk Show, having replaced Mike Harding.

With all that in mind, plus the TV voice-over work, I put it to Mark that it must worry him that we’re in danger of losing the BBC if certain Government factions get their way. We’re already heard about plans for BBC3 to become an internet-only channel. But Mark refuses to take my more pessimistic line.

“Well … the BBC 3 online thing seems pretty good if it’s aimed at young people. My kids tend to watch stuff online anyway. And I think the BBC will be here long after anyone who wants to get rid of it. There are things at the BBC that are a waste of money and where we could tighten our belts. But any Government will realise at a certain point there’s no vote in crushing the BBC.

Glasto Stalwarts: Mark Radcliffe with Jo Whiley and Lauren Laverne during the BBC's Glastonbury Festival coverage (Photo: BBC)

Glasto Stalwarts: Mark Radcliffe with Jo Whiley and Lauren Laverne during the BBC’s Glastonbury Festival coverage (Photo: BBC)

“I’d like to see the BBC truly independent of political control. Maybe you could make it by subscription. If you could find a way of scrambling the signals then look at what you pay for. It’s not hard if you get Sky and all the sports packages and watch a lot of films to spend the licence fee in about a month and a half.

“Maybe they should stop everything on the BBC for a week. Let people see what that feels like – all the repeats, the documentaries, the things on other channels, the news – take everything the BBC does out of the equation. Then you could say, ‘Right, you’ve saved yourself four quid now!’”

Away from the day and night jobs, Mark has his writing too – with Showbusiness (1998) followed by his novel Northern Sky (2005), the anecdotal Thank you For The Days (2009) and further music memoir Reelin’ in the Years (2011).

Then there’s his family life on the ‘Knutsford City Limits’, with his daughters now aged 28, 16 and 13. He’s a grandparent too. So does he see himself as a legendary rock’n’roll grandad, or a barometer-tapping cardigan-wearer?

“I don’t know really. I try to be fun and active and do stuff with them rather than sat behind a newspaper, harrumphing – although I do that with my own kids, I imagine. I’m a comparatively-young grandad. It’s one of the very few things I’m comparatively young for. Half of the people I work with are a third of my age now, with many not even born when I started.”

Is there one band or act above any other you feel a sense of pride in helping to break?

“Probably Elbow. I was the first to play them. We played Newborn, and Guy (Garvey) says he always remembers them sitting at home listening to us play the full version on afternoon Radio 1, laughing their heads off, thinking, ‘We’re off! We’re on the way!’ I’ve always felt an affinity with those guys, and know they’ve always felt an affinity with me because they played at Glastonbella, on our garden. They don’t do that sort of thing very much.”

When was the last time someone put a radio playlist in front of you and expected you to work off it?

Pirate Radio: 'Unscrupulous gangmaster' Mark Radcliffe, of Galleon Blast infamy

Pirate Radio: ‘Unscrupulous gangmaster’ Mark Radcliffe, of Galleon Blast infamy

“Every day! We have a playlist At 6 Music. But the beauty of the station is that most of the things on there I’d happily play anyway. You don’t want to have to pick three hours of music every day. It would drive you insane. It would be like you putting a newspaper together on your own every day.

“The key is being somewhere where the playlist actually chimes and fits in with your taste. Then you’re not constantly battling with it. I’m quite happy to be told what to do as long as I respect the person telling me, and as long as they’re telling me what I know to be right.”

Finally, with Chris Evans currently doing the rounds with Don’t Forget It’s Friday (or whatever it is), is there a chance of you bringing back – 20 years on – The White Room to Channel 4?

“It’s not up to me, but if they wanted to bring it back and wanted me to do it, I would -happily. In fact, I’ll happily go anywhere people invite me these days, because I don’t get out much!

“I was sorry when that finished. It seemed to finish a bit too soon. I thought it was going to be like Later with Jools – a job for life. But I’ve learned to not think that about things. Things you think are going to last sometimes don’t, and things you think are just going to be temporary have a habit of drifting on forever. I’ve never made a plan and don’t intend to now. But even if that came back without me I’d be pleased to see it.”

Maybe if Jools Holland decides to call time on Later – providing that Gilson Lavis isn’t up to carrying it on – Mark could have a weekly drumming slot with happening guests for his own live music show.

“Yeah, perhaps so! That would be fun.”

Gallon Blast are at The Greystones, Sheffield , on Thursday, December 10th (with ticket details here) and at The Continental, Preston on Saturday, December 12 (with tickets details here).

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Now I’ve Got a Witness – remembering The Rolling Stones’ 1960s roots with Richard Houghton

Stage Presence: The Rolling Stones giving it their all at Warrington Parr Hall in late November, 1963 (Photo: Martin Culleton)

Stage Presence: The Rolling Stones giving it their all at Warrington Parr Hall in late November, 1963 (Photo: Martin Culleton)

I’m not sure how old newly-published author Richard Houghton thought I was when we first spoke, but he was hoping I might fill him in with my memories of seeing The Rolling Stones at the Wooden Bridge in Guildford in March 1963.

As it was, I wasn’t set to make my world debut for another four and a half years after those particular appearances (I believe two more followed). In fact, I was only six weeks old when they released their overtly-psychedelic sixth album Their Satanic Majesties Request (one of my favourites in parts, although there may just be the odd hint of special sweetie intake during the recording process). And by the time of their fabled free concert in London’s Hyde Park in July 1969 – following inspirational guitarist Brian Jones’ death – I was barely 20 months old.

The confusion was down to me mentioning how I was always intrigued by the thought of the Stones at one of my past lunchtime watering holes, having worked nearby. I was talking about the late ’80s and early ’90s though. I soon put him right anyway, Richard responding: “Ah – the idea they were playing there of a lunchtime was a bit puzzling, quite apart from the fact it would make you at least as old as Mick.” There are days when – with apologies for going down the Maroon 5 route – I’ve been known to move like Jagger, and age catches up with us all eventually, but please.

As it turns out, Richard also missed out on seeing the Stones in the ’60s, despite catching them many times since (20 times, I understand). But he’s given us a valuable portrait of those halcyon days in You Had To Be There! The Rolling Stones Live 1962-69, a new book reliving those early days. He mentions within how he hopes he gives the reader a flavour of what it was like to be ‘there’. And it certainly does. He never set out to write a definite account of this seminal group’s first decade, but that doesn’t diminish or undervalue the sense of history recounted and set down here.

As Richard stresses, some accounts contradict each other, some are clearly embellished by the contributor, and the band themselves were somewhat complicit in helping blur the lines in the first place. But what we get is an often raw portrait of how it all was back then. Many of those responding suggest the PA was poor in the rare circumstances when you could hear the music above the screaming girls, yet you get the feeling that this really was a scene to experience first-hand. And while most of us never were there, this publication allows us to at least experience a sense of the spirit of the times.

I can’t go without a little criticism, and while I admire the fact that Richard has given his contributors free rein with their memories, I’d have taken the hatchet to a few accounts. Several go round in circles, more or less saying the same thing twice. But that’s a minor quibble for something that proves to be a valuable addition to the Rolling Stones literary canon, not least in the way it illustrates the band’s meteoric rise and swift progression alongside subtle shifts within the ranks as we go along.

The idea of catching the Stones in a huge stadium in later years never really appealed to me, but what I’d have given to see them in my hometown, in the capital or even The Ricky Ticky Club at the Star and Garter in Windsor in that first year, or in fact any number of shows mentioned here from those first seven years.

Many of the accounts jump off the page, and while there are far too many to name-check, I’ll at least give you a flavour of that first year, Richard starting with recollections of the band’s residency at Ken Colyer’s Jazz Club at Studio 51 in London’s West End in November, 1962, four months after the first Stones performance and around a dozen shows into what would prove such a mammoth rock’n’roll career. On one such night Brian Robinson, then 17 (and I’ll stick to the ‘then’ ages here), was clearly impressed by his namesake Mr Jones’ slide guitar skills and a chat with the man himself after their set, while Andrew Crisp recalls how his harmonica skills improved after a few tips from a certain Mick Jagger at the same venue.

We then have members of The Presidents talking about gigs on the same bill at Sutton’s Red Lion that same month, and while Bill Wyman and Charlie Watts weren’t yet on board, they were by mid-January ’63 for the first Ealing Club shows, where Trevor Baverstock remembers lots of Chuck Berry and Bo Diddley covers. Furthermore, Trevor still appears to be quietly fuming, having given up his place in the drinks queue one night to Keith Richards, only to be blanked for his kindness.

Early Date: A flyer from the Wooden Bridge at Guildford from 1963 (Photo: http://www.guildford-dragon.com/)

Early Date: A flyer from the Wooden Bridge, Guildford, for two more dates in 1963 (Photo: http://www.guildford-dragon.com/)

Adele Tinman, 16, was always impressed from her Studio 51 nights out at how Mick would always acknowledge the original artists they covered, encouraging her to go out and find those records herself. And then we have Stuart Farrow, 24, part of that Wooden Bridge audience at Guildford, telling us, ‘You had your good looking Billy Furys and people like that, but they were a scruffy group and a lot of people didn’t bother. I remember standing around, jigging around to the music. It wasn’t tremendously busy but the music was very loud.’ What’s more, Stuart recalls snippets of conversation with Brian between numbers, about where they were next and what he was playing.

On we go via shows at Eel Pie Island, Twickenham, more at Ealing Club and then the Crawdaddy Club in Richmond, with a couple of mentions of ‘sixth Stone’ Ian Stewart’s live contributions. And I empathise with Tony Donaldson, 20, when he says, ‘You went to dance as well. Unfortunately for spectators, once they started doing ‘proper’ concerts this exciting aspect of seeing live bands was lost’.

Jackie Hankins, 24, was at Eel Pie Island, saying how ‘They looked like they’d just got out of bed. They didn’t look like they’d washed for a month’, while Robin Mayhew, who saw them at the Red Lion in Sutton and the Ricky Tick Club in Windsor, reminisces about the early days and how he knew ‘Stu’ back in Scotland. And then we have the afore-mentioned Trevor Baverstock remembering an overheard bit of needle that summer of ’63 from Mick about Brian at London’s Scene Club, seemingly jealous of the attention given by the early punters to his band-mate.

At Middlesbrough’s Outlook Club – on a double-bill with The Hollies – Mike Gutteridge compliments Mick on his footwear and is told, ‘Yeah, man, these are Chelsea boots’. At Dunstable’s California Ballroom, David Arnold, 17, remembers chatting to ‘an affable Brian’ at the interval, while at Banbury Winter Gardens, Trevor Nevett, 22, reckons unimpressed owner Ethel Usher sent the band off to get haircuts before she let them on, while Ken Pratt, 15, tells how he went backstage and all the band managed to cadge one of his Senior Service ciggies off him. What’s more, Joe Freeman, 16, said the band ended with Shake, Rattle and Roll, Mick’s stage presence inspiring the audience into a chorus of ‘For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow’. Yep, different times.

Gay Jinks, was impressed at Northwich Memorial Hall by her conversation with Stones boss Andrew Loog Oldham, who went on to get her a signed photo, while back at the Ricky Tick at Windsor, Martin Osborn, 18 – who turns up again four days later at the Il Rondo Ballroom, Leicester – recalls a chat with Bill about the band’s new gear, courtesy of their deal with Decca. And then there’s Christine Murphy, 15, cycling into Manchester after school, getting changed at Kendals department store, meeting a friend and getting her autograph book signed by Mick, Keith and Brian before the Oasis Club gig.

Having been at the first gig outside England – Prestatyn Royal Lido – Trefor Jones regrets losing his autographs following his divorce, while – skipping forward to October – Susan McLaren, 13, recalls Brian throwing a photo out of a window at the Streatham Astoria, later that night signed by Keith. She did however have to eventually chuck the apple core Brian also threw out. She kept it in a tin in her shed until her Dad discovered it, complete with maggots.

At the Watford Gaumont, 22-year-old Diana Whitney’s mother-in-law’s neighbour Queenie (are you following this?) didn’t let the boys back in after they popped out of a rehearsal, as they were a ‘scruffy bunch’. Apparently, the manager was later phoned to let them in. And later that month a young diner at a Wimpy Bar in Poole obviously agreed, telling Margaret Gray, 17, ‘they are scruffy long-haired oiks and they will never last’. It didn’t deter her though – she was soon screaming ‘Keith!’ at the Bournemouth Gaumont.

Rolling+Stones+The+Rolling+Stones+-+Alta+Fide+52981Elsewhere, Peter Wood, 28, recalls the trip home from the Salisbury Gaumont in his mate Len’s A35 van, not least a sudden stop when they reached their destination, leading to an exchange with the guy behind the wheel behind them, a squeal of brakes followed by frantic reversing and quick acceleration, the irate driver – a certain bloke with the surname Jagger – stopping long enough to ask, ‘What f***ing clown is driving this f***ing van?’ before roaring off.

And before I roar on, I’ll mention Ray Hulme, 16, and how he reckoned he couldn’t understand Mick and Brian when they pulled up outside Crewe Town Hall on November 10th, 1963, but along with his mates helped them unload their gear, taking it upstairs to the venue. He also adds, ‘I’d never seen long hair like it’.

But that’s just a snapshot of this hugely-entertaining 288-page read. Instead, let’s get back to my chat with Richard. And then you can stop reading over my shoulder and work out how to get a copy of your own.

Richard, 55, works for a housing association in Chorley by day, writing in his spare time while based with his partner in Manchester. And while he admits his latest project has ‘taken up a fair chunk’ of his life, he reckons it‘s ‘a labour of love’.

As with many books covering 1960s’ pop culture, there are plenty of Beatles vs Stones comparisons from the contributors. So it’s worth noting here that the Fab Four were the first band Richard saw – albeit as a four-year-old.

Richard, whose 19-year-old son Bill has inherited his love of the Stones, said: “They played a string of shows at Hammersmith Odeon over Christmas 1964.  My recollection was going to see Santa Claus in a department store that afternoon and unwrapping the present he gave me when we got to the gig that evening.

“It was a set of wooden skittles and balls. I managed to drop one of the balls, which rolled away to the front of the theatre, never to be seen again. But my mother says we went to one of the early January shows, so I can’t in all honesty say they made a big impression.”

He certainly remembers his first taste of the Stones though, performing 1971’s Sticky Fingers’ lead single Brown Sugar on Top of the Pops.

“Mick was wearing a pink satin suit and a baseball cap, doing the moves he’s still famous for. I think that was a turning point – at the age of 11, he was as charismatic as Marc Bolan, Noddy Holder or the other pop stars I was aware of.”

Rolled_Gold_-_The_Very_Best_of_the_Rolling_Stones_(album_cover)It was Decca’s 1975 Rolled Gold greatest hits double LP that really got Richard hooked though.

“Growing up in a small town in Northamptonshire, my friends were more into Genesis, Pink Floyd and Yes. I was ‘the only Stones fan in the village’. They were viewed as being past their best and weren’t a singles band anymore so weren’t in the headlines, at least not for their music.”

As it was, Richard didn’t see his idols live until an open-air one at Feyenoord’s stadium in Rotterdam in 1982, alongside ‘40,000 rabid Dutch fans’.

“UK shows were rumoured but the European dates were announced first and I bought a coach package. I didn’t want to miss out. This was in the pre-internet and social media days, when the only source of information was the music weeklies.”

By then, the Stones were two decades into their stellar career, but now Richard has recreated something of the feeling of seeing the band in those early days, having collected eyewitness accounts from 500 fans who were ‘there’, the reader taken on a journey from the first London gigs in 1962 through to Hyde Park in 1969.

That includes plenty of revealing Lancashire anecdotes, and Richard – who devised his epic tome with the help of Cambridge-based husband and wife team Trevor and Julie Bounford, of GottaHaveBooks – certainly gives a flavour of the ‘60s Stones experience.

“I used to work with Julie, and Trevor said he liked the book so much he was prepared to set up his own publishing company to publish the book when discussions with another publisher appeared to be going nowhere.

“Trevor’s a graphic designer by trade and has worked on a variety of projects over the years, including designing other books about the Stones.  While this is the first book they have published they have ambitious plans.

“It’s really exciting to be associated with a start-up company that had the faith to invest in my book and I’m really pleased with the way the book has turned out. Feedback has been really positive.”

Can he pick out a favourite anecdote or early gig he wished he saw?

“I’d have loved to have been at one of the gigs at the Red Lion in Sutton, Surrey, when they were struggling to attract more than a dozen people. Imagine seeing the Stones playing in the back room of a pub and being able to go up and ask Mick to play a Chuck Berry song!”

Richard must have despaired at what he’d taken on at times though. As he mentions, they played more than 750 times between 1963 and 1966 alone, and memories do get hazy.

Rolling Richard: The author, Richard Houghton, with his Stones bookshelf

Rolling Richard: The author, Richard Houghton, with his Stones bookshelf

“I had to do a lot of triangulation of facts, as people remembered seeing them at Venue A with support band B on such and such a date. Sometimes the books suggest they never played that venue on that date or appeared with a different support.

“But I tried not to rewrite memories. I didn’t want to lose the spirit of what people told me.  I wanted it to be in their words as much as possible.

“There were two memories I didn’t include because I couldn’t authenticate them.  One was a lady from Hereford who claimed to have seen the Stones in Hereford supported by the Jimi Hendrix Experience and by Olivia Newton John.  As far as I know, those three acts have never performed together on the same bill in Hereford or anywhere else.

“And there’s another story from a guy who says he saw the Stones play a show in Bangor in Northern Ireland in front of a tiny crowd.  I couldn’t find any reference to it in any books or on any websites but the timescale fitted in with when they visited Northern Ireland in 1964.  In the end I contacted the Stones manager from the ’60s, Andrew Loog Oldham, to see if he could verify the story.  Andrew said they didn’t play there so without someone else to substantiate the facts I sadly had to leave out what was a very plausible story.”

Is ‘truth stranger than fiction’ in some cases?

“Absolutely. Some of the early encounters people relate are fascinating. Essentially, the Stones started out as a pub band playing music very few people wanted to hear, so audiences were often no more than a handful of enthusiasts.

“The band would just step off the stage and wander to the bar during the interval, and there are some great anecdotes – with Mick showing someone how to play the harmonica or Keith teaching someone a chord on his guitar.

“Once the vibe about how great a live act they were started to spread, and when they’d had a hit with Not Fade Away, things started to take off very quickly.”

Bill Wyman’s autobiography, A Stone Alone, proved a good reference point, a combination of the band’s original bassist’s diaries and research by journalist Ray Coleman using press reports of the time. But Richard’s favourite was Roy Carr’s Illustrated Record’, listing all the gigs and adding ‘great images’.

“I knew Roy was a former NME journalist. What I didn’t know was he was from Blackpool and his band was one of the Winter Gardens support acts on the night of the infamous Empress Ballroom riot (with that 1964 date covered in great detail within).

“Plus, Bill’s book is not infallible.  The Stones played a show in Sunderland at the town’s Odeon Theatre.  Bill lists it as the Rank Theatre when it was never known by that name.  The discrepancy came to light when a journalist on the local paper in Sunderland queried it with me.  So although it’s a bit ‘trainspottery’ I’ve played a very, very small part in ensuring the history of the Rolling Stones is accurately recorded.”

Young One: Richard Houghton, around the age he saw The Beatles

Young One: Richard Houghton, around the age he saw The Beatles

So much has gone into print about the band, but Richard clearly envisaged a gap in the market.

“I did. I’m a bit of a collector of books about the Stones, at the last count having more than 200. But as far as I know there’s never been a book trying to tell the early history in the words of the fans.

“I didn’t want to tell the story by rehashing old interviews, doing cut and paste jobs from books already out there. I wanted something I could step back from and say, ‘I’ve added a different perspective, and wanted people’s stories heard while they’re still around to tell them.

“I couldn’t have written this without the help of local newspapers, primarily as older people whose stories I wanted to collect are still avid readers of print media and won’t necessarily respond to internet appeals.

“Newspapers have been an invaluable resource. I particularly wanted to hear stories that perhaps hadn’t been told before outside of friends and family. And I had so many letters and emails which began, ‘I saw your letter in the paper and it brought the memories flooding back.’”

As hinted at before, it’s the earlier accounts really resonate – from fans who chanced upon the band at those smaller venues, some of which are long gone.

“It would be great to have a time machine and see them play I’m A King Bee or Walking The Dog. But hopefully this captures what it was like and inspires people to go out and listen to the early albums again or discover them for the first time.”

You make a good point about how so many of these concert halls, clubs and pubs mentioned are now either gone or going.

“Many venues they played are still standing but lots have gone, replaced by car parks or supermarkets. Others are in intensive care, awaiting a major injection of funds to restore them or a planning decision as to whether to demolish them.

“We don’t seem that interested in preserving our civic and musical heritage or recognising that without places to play there won’t be the opportunities for another Stones or Beatles to play live in a different town every night and break through to a wider audience.

“It’s a dispiriting thought to think we’ll have to rely on The X-Factor to break a new group.”

Points Made: The Stones in the '60s. From the left - Charlie Watts, Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Bill Wyman, and Brian Jones

Points Made: The Stones in the ’60s. From the left – Charlie Watts, Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Bill Wyman, and Brian Jones

There’s certainly a strong sense of nostalgia and even sadness in various anecdotes, not least those regarding Brian Jones or earlier ‘sixth’ member Ian ‘Stu’ Stewart.

“I tried to keep the commentary from myself to a minimum. I wanted the fans and others associated with the group to speak for themselves.

“Stu was an old friend of one contributor, and his role in getting the group work in the early days is reflected. Before (Stones manager) Andrew Loog Oldham came along he was their pianist, road manager and booking agent.

“He had an office job and ready access to a phone when Mick, Keith and Brian were slumming it in a flat in Chelsea, living off money they could get from taking empty beer bottles back to the off-licence.

“Brian’s role in founding the group and subsequent demise has been much documented. I think what’s really sad is that the tensions between Brian and Mick in particular seem to have been evident from very early on.

“People were aware that Brian was troubled but were unable to do anything about it. But I’m a firm believer that his life was back on track once he left and that he was murdered at Cotchford Farm. His death wasn’t an accident. Perhaps the truth will come out one day.”

I’m guessing this is a project that never really ends. Have you already had fresh responses?

“I’ve had quite a few more stories. It turns out my brother-in-law saw them at Eel Pie Island in 1963 and was miffed I hadn’t asked him! If I have enough new material I’d love to do a second book.

“I’ve only just come off the phone from a guy who went backstage to meet them when they played Exeter. He had a great story about Mick signing something while hanging upside down, telling him the autograph would be worth more as a result!”

Is that right you’re contemplating a Beatles book along the same lines?

“A lot of people who responded wanted to tell me about seeing or meeting The Beatles too, so it’s started to write itself.

“I’ve a great story about them staying in a small hotel in Wiltshire while filming scenes for Help on Salisbury Plain, marching through the lobby in a line to get to their rooms. Even at the height of their fame they didn’t have the tons of security modern bands seem to surround themselves with.

“I think it’s a sign of just how much affection there is for both groups that so many people want to tell their stories. And people with teenage memories to share are great story-tellers. Sometimes they’re just looking for an audience, and hopefully I can help them find one.”

5181I3hOY-L._SX337_BO1,204,203,200_For the writewyattuk interview with Stones legend Bill Wyman from October 2013, head here.

You Had To Be There! The Rolling Stones Live 1962-69 By Richard Houghton (GottaHaveBooks) is available from various independent retailers, including – on my patch – Chorley’s Ebb & Flo bookshop and Malcolm’s Musicland, or online via www.gottahavebooks.co.uk and Amazon.

And anyone with Rolling Stones memories stoked by Richard’s project can email him via stonesinthe60s@gmail.com or write to 7 Hartley Road, Manchester, M21 9NG.

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Highway to Hull (and back) – the Lucy Beaumont interview

Mamma Mia: Lucy Beaumont has just let her mother know she's arrived

Mamma Mia: Lucy Beaumont has just let her mother know she’s arrived

After a five-year apprenticeship on the comedy circuit, it’s fair to say Lucy Beaumont is making a name for herself.

Her ‘blend of surreal offbeat humour’ (as her press biog would have it) has led to several plaudits since becoming a finalist in 2011’s nationwide stand-up comedy competition So You Think You’re Funny? And BBC Radio New Comedy and Chortle Best Newcomer awards followed in 2012, while her Edinburgh Fringe show We Can Twerk It Out was nominated for the Foster’s Newcomer Award in 2014.

Lucy was originally mentored in 2008 by Jeremy Dyson as part of a BBC initiative to find new northern comedic voices, going on to write one-woman play Bananas are Blue, produced by Theatre by the Lake and previewed at the 2010 Manchester Theatre festival.

And seven years on, her BBC Radio 4 sitcom To Hull and Back – which you can catch up with via the BBC iPlayer – is making waves, Arthur Smith reckoning we have ‘the next Victoria Wood in the making’.

Johnny Vegas, who also features in Lucy’s sitcom – along with Norman Lovett and her ‘Mum’ Maureen Lipman – said, ‘She’s got the timing of Les Dawson… an absolute natural’, while her other credits include Crush, a 90-minute monologue that scooped a Sony Radio Award.

Add to all that appearances on Comedy Central’s Live at The Comedy Store and Dave’s As Yet Untitled with Alan Davies, and a stage background, Lucy performing in various premieres and touring with Hull Truck Theatre, York Theatre Royal and West Yorkshire Playhouse.

In fact, word has it that Lucy – on the back of a sell-out, critically-acclaimed run at the Soho Theatre, Edinburgh Festival and venues spanning the country – only switched to comedy in a bid to conquer stage fright in preparation for an acting career.

What’s more, it seems that she’s also a success in Norway, judging by her reception there last weekend. She was a little gutted at missing out on the Northern Lights while on stage though. Did she not have a retracting roof at the venue?

“No, I wish! It went surprisingly well though. They don’t even understand me in Scotland, let alone Norway … but their English is impeccable. Even little colloquialisms – they get it all, because they’ve grown up on British and American TV and film.”

My excuse for catching up is her forthcoming Funny Northern Women date at Chorley Little Theatre next Friday, November 27th, which just happens to mark Lancashire Day. So let’s go for the offensive and ask if this lass from the East Riding of Yorkshire (with her defining Humberside accent) is looking to infiltrate.

“Oh, is it Lancashire Day when we visit?”

It certainly is, the 720th anniversary of the Red Rose county sending its first representatives to Edward I’s Parliament, I understand. I’m not sure how many people know of the origins, but it certainly seems to be getting a little more coverage these days.

“That’s good. You need something to cling on to! No, I’m kidding, and anyway, the other two girls – Hayley and Katie – are Lancastrian. And we’re all Northern, aren’t we.”

Manchester Roots: Hayley Ellis is also on the bill at Chorley Little Theatre

Manchester Roots: Hayley Ellis is also on the bill at Chorley Little Theatre

That’s as good a place as anywhere to add brief biogs about those other two acts appearing, with Manchester-based Hayley Ellis, a former XFM breakfast show regular, began performing in 2009 and MCs at gigs around the country. She’s seen success in various UK new act contests, BBC Radio 2 DJ Steve Wright saying she was ‘fast becoming Manchester’s funniest female.’

Meanwhile, Katie Mulgrew has also played up and down the country, and is the daughter of James Mulgrew, aka North West-based Northern Irish veteran funnyman Jimmy Cricket. You can also hear Liverpool Hope Playwriting Prize winner Katie’s dulcet tones on BBC Radio 2 documentary series The History of British Comedy, while she hosts The FunnyGirl Podcast, discussing musicals with guest stand-ups.

Had Lucy worked with her fellow Funny Northern Women before this tour?

“Yeah, we seem to work well together actually. It should be a good night. And if there’s one of us you don’t like, you’ve got two others.”

Do you travel together? Is there a big tour bus?

“Oh no! Me and Hayley travel together though.”

What can you tell us about life on the road with Hayley then?

“It’s great. She drives and I talk to her … it works well.”

Junior Cricket: Katie Mulgrew, out for the day with the Funny Northern Women

Junior Cricket: Katie Mulgrew, out for the day with the Funny Northern Women

And Katie just shows up on the night?

“Yeah. She’s had a baby recently, so she’s just glad to get out of the house!”

We might as well get this out of the way – Lucy has a strong Lancashire link anyway, having married fellow comic and 8 out of 10 Cats star Jon Richardson back in April.

“Yeah, he’s from Lancaster.”

Does he take you to the north of the county now and again?

“I have been, yeah, a few times. It’s lovely. I’ve got some good friends there. I like it. Nice people.”

And what does Jon make of Kingston upon Hull? It’s hardly Kingston upon Thames, where he was previously based.

“He likes it, although he finds it a bit rowdy of a night.”

Be honest, what were you first thoughts when you heard your old neck of the woods had got the City of Culture status for 2017?

“Just over-joyed! It’s been a long time coming, and we need some recognition. You wouldn’t believe the amount of professional actors, writers, artists and musicians who come out of Hull. For such a small place, it’s incredible, and people need to know.”

Hull Raisers: Lucy and fellow To Hull and Back cast members, including Maureen Lipman, Norman Lovett and Jon Richardson to the right

Hull Raisers: Lucy and fellow To Hull and Back cast members, including Maureen Lipman, Norman Lovett and Jon Richardson to the right

Fair enough. If you search for famous Hullensians on the internet, you’ll find far more than you probably realised were from that way, including Lucy’s close family friend Roland Gift, of Fine Young Cannibals fame.

“Yeah. It’s had hard knocks has Hull, but deserves this. Let’s just hope people visit.”

What are the best things about Hull, on a personal level?

“Similar to Lancaster, really – it’s the people, and there’s community spirit. People care about each other. That’s so important, and you sense it.

“When you’re proud of where you’re from, it gives a place an atmosphere. You’re not living there because you have to work there, but because you’ve got roots there, and those bases are special.”

A friend at the Lancashire Evening Post told me just before I caught up with Lucy, ‘Ask her about chip salt’, going into a rant about how Hull got there long before any franchise chicken eateries. What’s all that about?

“Well, it’s an American chip spice, but made in Goole or somewhere, and just makes chips taste amazing.”

That’s at least one great export other than all those theatrical and musical links then.

Theatrical Links: Lucy Beaumont takes a seat (Photo: BBC)

Theatrical Links: Lucy Beaumont takes a seat (Photo: BBC)

“Definitely!”

Is Lucy, now 31, aware of a Northern-ness – for want of a better or at least a proper word – in her humour and in her act?

“Yeah.”

Can you define that?

“I don’t know, really. It goes down well in Norway too.”

Well that is the proper North, I guess.

“There are a few jokes that only go down well with a Northern audience. They’re the only ones who get it, including one I’ve got about taxi drivers being grumpy.”

It was only when I was watching a few live clips of Lucy that I realised ‘Mamma Mia’ is a phrase from Humberside rather than Italy. Not a lot of people know that. And what’s her toughest crowd been so far?

“You have a lot of tough crowds. I couldn’t pick one, but drunk crowds at Christmas are the worst. Or hen-dos and stag parties. They’re hard.”

All thinking they’re funnier than you after a few drinks?

“Yeah! Completely. And when a fight breaks out, that’s hard.”

What’s it like to have Hull-born Maureen Lipman play your Mum on the radio? Is she anything like your real mother?

“Oh no … she’s not, nothing like my Mum. I have to say that. But she’s just an incredible person is Maureen. You think you get to know her, then she surprises you.”

Husband Material: Jon Richardson

Husband Material: Jon Richardson

After all those years of proper elocution and voice coaching, did you need to give Maureen plenty of retraining to get her to remember her Humberside roots?

“No, she soon got back into it. She left when she was 18 to go to drama school, but the accent’s so infectious … it never quite leaves.”

Was she someone to look up to when you were growing up?

“Yeah, completely. She’s the one I always cited, having done a lot of drama.”

Did your time with the Hull Truck Theatre company help you on the way?

“Yeah, I’ve grown up with Hull Truck really, because my mum’s a writer, and the first professional stuff I did in theatre was with them.”

Actually, I see there’s another date in the diary for Lucy back on home ground early next year, playing Hull Truck on March 17th. So how did your Mum – Hull-based Gill Adams, a playwright whose TV writing credits include EastEnders and Doctors – get involved in the trade?

“She just had a passion for writing, really. It was meant to be.”

It turns out that there’s another Lancashire link with To Hull and Back – with Lancaster-based actor, writer and director Sue McCormick, originally from Preston, playing a part, having worked all over the country in theatre, film, TV and radio.

“Yeah, the radio show also involved Sue, who’s really well known in Lancashire and in the theatre. I worked with her at Hull Truck, so it was nice to get her involved.”

And how did you get Norman Lovett – perhaps best known as Holly from cult BBC TV space sitcom Red Dwarf – involved?

“I just asked him. I went to see him in Edinburgh a few years ago, and had tears running down my face. I thought it was the funniest thing I’d ever seen. I thought I just had to get him involved.”

Electric Dreams: Lucy Beaumont waits for a bus home

Electric Dreams: Lucy Beaumont waits for a bus home

Did you build the part around him?

“Yeah, he’s not an actor, but what he can do, he can do! Nobody else can … if you know what I mean. He’s a one-off.”

I’m only just catching up with To Hull and Back now. I’m well impressed though. Have you had a good reaction?

“Yeah! I’m hoping for a second series. That would be nice. You never know, but it would be lovely to write another one.”

Did you listen to a fair bit of radio comedy growing up?

“Oh, yeah. I was brought up on Steptoe and Son and Hancock’s Half Hour. All the old greats. I was obsessed with ‘70s BBC sitcoms. All my friends thought I was really weird. I watched them all, and it’s obviously stayed with me. My favourite was One Foot in the Grave. That’s the one I got most inspiration from.”

What’s it like working with Johnny Vegas (who has also guested in Lucy’s sitcom)? He’s another performer who said nice things about you.

“He’s lovely. He’s a good guy. I was too young when he was in his heyday in stand-up, before he started doing telly stuff. But from what I gather, when he was on form he was the most incredible performer. Him and Peter Kay lit up a stage. You never knew what was coming next. And he’s multi-talented is Johnny – he can act, he can write, he can direct.”

Have you ever suffered stage fright, like your radio character – hiding in a cupboard when it’s time to go on?

“Yes, basically! I used to shake like a leaf on stage. People would really worry about me.”

But there was never a moment when you couldn’t bring yourself to go on?

“No. There have been times when it’s been like an out-of-body experience though.”

Lancashire Visitor: Lucy Beaumont is all set to explore Chorley with her fellow Funny Northern Women

Lancashire Visitor: Lucy Beaumont is all set to explore Chorley with her fellow Funny Northern Women

Do the various awards and fellow professionals’ accolades make you more nervous, piling expectation on, or do they make you rise to the challenge?

“I dunno. I just try to knuckle down. I’m still learning, and I’m at the beginning of my career. You just like those quotes because they look good on posters! But at this stage it’s just about working with people you find funny.”

Can you see yourself doing more writing and less performing in time?

“I think so. I’d like to have a few years really honing the writing skills and trying to get a telly sitcom off the ground. But then I’m sure I’d miss doing shows. There’s nothing better than the feeling of doing a live performance. I think I’ll just alternate between the two.”

And when you get back to your South-West London base and you’re talking to Jon, can you switch off? Or is there plenty of comedy ‘shop talk’?

“Yeah, we have to stop ourselves!”

Noel Fielding recently told me about sharing a house up at Edinburgh with Lee Mack, and how difficult it was for Lee to shut off. Is that the case with you two?

“Well, Jon will be cracking jokes all the time. He doesn’t know any different and doesn’t miss a trick if you make any mistake or say anything wrong. But like Lee Mack, they’re just hilarious. You can tell they’re just as funny off the stage. I think it’s actually an infliction.”

Do you go off a in a huff then secretly write down what’s just been said?

“Well, that is a problem, because we share so much together. We have to ask, ‘Are you using that … or shall I?’”

So what can those who get along to Chorley next weekend expect from you and your fellow Funny Northern Women?

“A good night of comedy, really. It’s so rare that you see three women on a bill. Apart from charity nights, I don’t think it happens. And there’s something for everyone, you know.”

Funny Northern Women is at Chorley Little Theatre, Dole Lane, Chorley, on Friday, November 27 (8pm-10pm), with tickets (£12 or £10 for concessions) from Malcolm’s Musicland on 01257 264362.

To catch up with To Hull and Back, follow this BBC iPlayer link here. And for the latest from Lucy, try her website here.

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Bill Bailey – Preston Guild Hall

Expecting Bill: Before curtain-up at Preston Guild Hall (Photo: writewyattuk)

Expecting Bill: Before curtain-up at Preston Guild Hall (Photo: writewyattuk)

With his Limboland tour continuing for some time yet – doing the rounds up and down the country until December’s switch to the capital – I should walk the line carefully here, not giving away too much for those yet to catch this Bath-born comic and musical genius.

But however well I phrase it, you’ll get it better first-hand judging by my night to remember in Lancashire.

With the horror of Friday night in Paris stamped on us all, Bill was quick to jump in and slam all those intent on attacking the age-old concept of fun and good times, breaking the ice in doing so.

From there he was up and running, tackling domestic politics in support of the NHS, railing against the PM and IDS, among others. This being Bill, there was plenty of veering off too, something he’s taken to art-form level, and he was soon treating us to his jarring new animal liberation anthem, The Day the Chickens Marched on Kiev.

From there we covered Bill’s failed attempts at Skype conversations with his Dad and the songs we play in our heads as we walk, leading to an examination of the effectiveness of the Star Wars theme and its Imperial March in such situations.

The Daily Mail was his next target, not least dwelling on how certain scandals are written off as youthful high jinks while others – far less inflammatory – are capitalised upon, not least a certain well-documented incident which in some press quarters received about as much interest ‘as a chord change at a One Direction concert’. He was on a roll now, that particular boy band getting a right pasting, Bill describing its remaining members as resembling ‘four blank Scrabble tiles’.

Limbo Lad: Bill Bailey processes another thought in his tombola mind

Limbo Lad: Bill Bailey processes another thought in his tombola mind

His switch between subjects and observations continued apace, coming at us pinball-style while gradually leading to his main theme, Limboland, that corridor of despair where life doesn’t quite match up to how we might have expected it to. That included a look at British definitions of pleasure, first explaining the Danish term hygge, loosely translated as cosiness. And believe it or not, there was even a visitor from Jutland in the crowd to help out with the pronunciation.

As Bill suggested, we have differing definitions – cue several examples of true happiness, British style, such as finding receipts for faulty electrical appliances, before a spot-on appraisal of the phrase, ‘Not too bad … all things considered’.

As he digressed again, I particularly enjoyed his alternative version of the haiku, a more football-oriented 4-4-2 formation poem, as given in the example:

I hold you close,

You look morose,

Dead wasp

Before the interval he even tackled Happy Birthday in a minor key on the grand piano, and then in Kurt Weill style (although neither are likely to lead to children’s party bookings if the day-job falls through).

The music theme continued when Bill returned with a brief examination of shoe-gazing indie, before an evaluation of the rock riff and acceptable facial accompaniments, not least advice to avoid the ‘concentrating’ look, which doesn’t quite carry the same kudos.

We also learned the ‘chord progression of Satan’, Death Metal style, as tested on several mainstream tunes, not least crowd suggestions Lady in Red and If You’re Happy and You Know It.

Vitamin Vision: Bill Bailey sees it as it is (Photo: https://www.facebook.com/BillBailey/)

Vitamin Vision: Bill Bailey sees it as it is (Photo: https://www.facebook.com/BillBailey/)

Returning to his main theme and that ‘true nature of happiness’, he regaled us with the rib-aching tale of his extended family trip to Tromso to see the Northern Lights. And then came his revelatory glimpse into the working of the male ‘tombola’ mind, including honest responses to the partner’s standard question, ‘What are you thinking of?’ which rang a bell for a fair few of us.

Bill’s climax followed, so to speak, as we helped him record his own take on a hit in the style of ‘vegan chancer’ Moby. And there was still time for another great tale illustrating his ‘life’s great disappointment’ theme, involving Bill and his mate getting tongue-tied while meeting Sir Paul McCartney, our comic master then leaving us with an inspired Jamaican ragga dub take on Downton Abbey.

On a dark and wet weekend when it seemed that the world was on a collective low, our special guest gave us plenty to smile about. Thanks for that, Bill. And come back soon.

For the recent writewyattuk interview with Bill Bailey, head here. And for details of the rest of the Limboland tour, head to his website here. 

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Farewell to The Dubious Brothers: reacquainting myself with Monty (part one)

Dubious Dancing: Monty, third left, and co. live in 2014 (Photo: Ashley Jones)

Dubious Dancing: Monty, third left, and co. live in 2014 (Photo: Ashley Jones)

Listen up. I realise it’s late notice if you didn’t already know, but this Saturday, November 14th, marks the end of an era, with the final show by The Dubious Brothers.

I’ll take part of the blame – not for the fact that this cult collective are calling it a day, more the case that I’m only mentioning it now. It’s been on my list for a while, but time overtook me, and I only finally got in touch with the band’s founder, leader and singer-songwriter, Monty, last night. The result was an entertaining three-quarters of an hour chat (some of it even relevant to what I planned to cover).

Time is against me now to transcribe all that in time, so I decided towards the end of our chinwag that I’d do this as a two-parter instead, with the first instalment flagging up the gig itself. Because I’d hate for anyone who can actually get there on the night to see this too late and miss out.

Part two will follow on this site very soon, and will involve more of a personal nostalgic retrospective of the band, and a bit of a potted history of the life and times of Monty – before, during and after The Dubious Brothers.

But first, the rudimentaries – the where, the when, the why and the how, including a little biog for those who might not have had the pleasure, first-time around, or those who need reminding. It might even inspire you to get to North London this Saturday night and see them in all their pomp and finery. Think of it as the last chance saloon.

Then, when you get back (and no doubt have something to tell your grandchildren), I’ll carry on and give you more, maybe even calling Monty back for a few words on the whole emotional experience this weekend.

Sigh. It’s only just sinking in that I won’t be there on the night to revel first-hand in all those great songs, the likes of classic DB tracks like South America Welcomes the Nazis, Falling Masonry, You’re Wernher Von Braun (And I Claim My Five Pounds), Britannia’s Grand Machine, Inspector Le Strade, My Goodness! This Bazaar Is like a Jumble, and A Heck of a Dubious Day.

So just who are this ‘cult ’80s’ anarchic music hall act back by popular demand to play for just the second time in 25 years, for one night only at the Assembly Hall in Islington’ (not my words, but about right, I suppose), formed around Banstead way in my native Surrey all those years ago? Well, let’s delve into their own official press release:

“The Dubious Brothers have to be seen to be believed. Between 1986 and 1990 they amazed and bewildered audiences all over Europe with their anarchic, satirical pre-War sound and spectacular theatrical stage show.

“Whilst the band played a heady mix of music hall foxtrots, tangos and waltzes, surreal Greek dancing surgeons flung themselves into the frenzied audience whilst ghostly Victorian gentlemen rode strange upside-down bicycle machines on stage. The set was reminiscent of both the misty docks of Victorian London and the inventing room of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang‘s Caractacus Potts.

“Although their dance music looked firmly backwards in time, the lyrics were rich in biting, modern political satire. The Dog Ate My Poll Tax Form and What A Lovely Day For A Hunt Sabotage were particular fan favourites, and The Dubious Brothers took particular delight in mocking the British Establishment.

Stage Presence: The Dubious Brothers, for your listening and viewing pleasure (Photo: Ashley Jones)

Stage Presence: The Dubious Brothers, for your listening and viewing pleasure (Photo: Ashley Jones)

“No judge or freemason was safe from their gaze. As a cult indie act, their vinyl releases are now collectors’ items, but the recent success of the album Antiques- The Best Of The Dubious Brothers has led to this one last glorious night of twisted dancing sing-a- longs and chaotic delight.”

Right, now we’ve got that out of the way (which is good, because they’re bloody hard to explain to people who haven’t chanced upon them before), did you make note of the bit that said, ‘second time in 25 years’? Well, yeah. I missed that last comeback gig, and as I’ve already mentioned, circumstances as they are (not least geographical ones) I won’t be able to make it this time either. Shame on me, and for me. But a few of my mates made it to last November’s packed-out show in the capital (which was supposed to be a one-off), and were full of it.

That included my namesake, Malcolm Smith, the esteemed graphic artist who was my right-hand man in the days of the Captains Log fanzine I wrote and self-published back in the late ’80s. In fact, it was my fellow Malc and his mates who first introduced me to the wonder that was The Dubious Brothers, and a scan through the diaries this week reminded me I went on to see them 10 times between mid-July 1987 and the end of March, 1990.

Those first and last outings were just two of six DB gigs I saw at the Fulham Greyhound, along with one at the nearby King’s Head, and one at Guildford’s Lockwood Day Centre, the charity gig at which I interviewed them 27 and a bit years ago. That leaves two others, one supporting The Corn Dollies at the Marquee, and the other at midnight (or thereabouts) on the Saturday at Glastonbury Festival in the summer of 1989. Heady days.

It was only looking through Monty’s sleeve notes and past interviews this week that it struck me that their previous last-ever gig at Warwick University in October 1990 was just a couple of weeks before I headed off on my world travels. It was the end of an era for both of us.

Yet they came back eventually, and now they’re doing it again – with a few promising tweaks by the sound of it. And from what Monty’s told me, it’s going to be a night to remember.

The first time we properly talked, the head honcho of The Dubious Brothers (on that occasion joined by band-mates Simon and Steve) came over all pretend-John Lydon-esque snarly when I showed him an earlier copy of Captain Log and he spotted a review in which our star rating at the time suggested they were a ‘good night out’.

You got the feeling that level of praise was beneath him. You can understand that too. They played their little hearts out night after night, and all they got was a ‘good night out’ rating. But – as I explained at the time – that was a positive review for our standards, and surely it was a very British way of doing things, something his band could surely appreciate.

They were bloody good though. They were clever, they were witty, they were musically adept, and they were of the now. In fact, all these years on, the edge they had then still shines through, and their songs seem somewhat timeless (despite some of that ’80s sound on the recorded output) – even the one about poll tax non-payment.

Tee Hee: The Dubious Brothers are back, and here's the proof

Tee Hee: The Dubious Brothers are back, and here’s the proof

But enough of that for now. Let’s just talk about this weekend’s big event. So, Monty, why now? You’ve had your farewell gig already … twice. Who do you think you are, Frank Sinatra?

“Well yeah. Last year was supposed to be the last one ever. When the Dubious Brothers Fans’ page on Facebook was set up, people started joining and talking about the band, and emailing or messaging me asking about a reunion and when we were going to do it all again.

“And the way people talk about it all suggested that the band meant a lot to people at the time, for various different reasons. For example, people going to university for the first time who might have come to see us, and we might have been the first band they ever saw.

“We appealed to them, and there was a social side to it … ‘a good night out’, as you would say! We kind of reminded people of that exciting time, of being young and going to see gigs. We said we’d just do one show – the one we did last year.

“But because of various factors like illness, and not all the original members being available to play, we drafted in Dominic Luckman from Cardiacs on drums. And because I didn’t want everyone to have to learn all 16 or 17 songs we had Jackie Carrera, formerly of Girlschool and The Flatmates, playing bass on a few tracks, and Des Burkinshaw from theghostorchestra, and various original members and other guests.

“We even had Tom Dolan, who started the fan page, on keyboards. So it was a family affair. And it was a great night, virtually sold out. Everyone had a fantastic time, but we weren’t really happy with the sound on stage as we were hearing it.

“It sounds fine on the DVD of the show, but we struggled on the night. The stage was quite cramped too, with it being such a big show. So although it was a fantastic night there were lots of things for me personally that didn’t quite hit the spot, professionally.

“I think we did put on a great show and had a great time, but I just kind of wanted a few other things, and it was a shame we didn’t have the Time Machine and that we didn’t have more room to muck around and dance.

“People ended up saying, ‘Do it again! Do it again!’ and I did a little straw poll in a bid to make sure that they would turn up. They promised they would, so we decided to do it, and as it turns out one of our people has rebuilt the time machine from new, and it looks absolutely incredible – far better than the original.”

Valuable Antiques: The Dubious Brothers, on the cover of the newly-repackaged Antiques compilation

Valuable Antiques: The Dubious Brothers, on the cover of the newly-repackaged Antiques compilation

So has there been a lot of hard work to get things ready in time for Saturday?

“Absolutely, and we have a children’s choir to kick off the show, which is mainly children of the band and others drafted in, all dressed as street urchins, basically lamenting why I sing about Nazis, and all that.”

Fantastic, and very Lionel Bart meets Monty Python, 21st century style. In fact, here are the actual words:

Why do you sing about Nazis? Why can’t you sing about love? 

Why don’t you sing about wonderful things like daisies and butterflies and doves?

Why can’t you be more like Coldplay? Then we’d be very rich. 

The way things are going, with record sales slowing, you’re sure to end up in a ditch.

Inspired, and apparently, with that, Monty comes on and asks if the choir would like him to sing a nice song instead. But to find out what happens next, you’ll have to pop along this Saturday night.

You mention family members. Any of those belong to you, Monty?

“Yes, my little boy is one of them. He comes on and sings during Oh! Mother Borden.”

Brilliant, one of my favourites, and it turns out that this particular Victorian urchin has the wondrous line, ‘God bless yer, guv’nor, d’you fancy a pie?’ What’s more, young Joseph also has another line later, but again I’ll leave that for those who are there to find out. And there won’t be a dry eye in the house, I’m guessing.

Word has it that there will be several more surprises and new highlights on the night, with some of the more obscure songs represented via a new extra medley.

12108181_10154431125211164_310946541293862547_nAnd will there be a live DVD this time?

“Not this time, no. It was very expensive, and the last one is great, so that will be our epitaph … testament, whatever you want to call it.”

I’ll stop there for now. Otherwise, no-one will get a chance to read this before the event itself. Stay tuned for part two, and in the meantime, if you can possibly make it to Islington on Saturday night but haven’t quite tracked down tickets yet, they’re available via this link here.

And for more about Monty and The Dubious Brothers – not least how to get your hands on the best of CD and his own solo material – try his website via this link. 

 

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