Covers School

I’ve mentioned before how modest our ambitions were as teenagers, everything we understood was within Burnley and we had no further horizons. Rich people lived up Reedley, poor people lived up Stoops or Burnley Wood. People who escaped went to Manchester. Bands played covers and the gigs were all at the Town Mouse. I gathered around myself a delicate little social group of the likeminded that featured Nicky, Nathan and Maz. We stared by watching my Dad’s band every weekend that we could and then we started watching everything else that we possibly could. Maybe it was because we were young and impressionable, maybe it was because it was the 90s and sixty to a hundred quid could still drag in a decent-ish band, whatever was happening we seemed to watch a lot of really high quality covers bands at an age when it mattered to us. We sat near the front of the raised seating area that transformed into a stage every weekend, we gazed up with awe and admiration at what seemed to be professionals at the peak of their craft. Really we were watching weekend hobbyists and also-rans who were earning between 15 and 30 quid depending on how hard a bargain they could drive with Shelley. I’m sure some of them would seem laughable today but I’ve been digging around on YouTube to see if I can find some of the bands we loved at the peak of their powers. The truth is no, I can’t, not quite. Nothing could live up to the memories of being a fifteen year old hungry for the craft, I found some things that have jogged the memory a little bit though, they’re nice to have and at least skim through a bit.

Garry Whitfield’s Big Secret

Even if you don’t listen to this you get the gist of Garry Whitfield’s Big Secret from that photo, a tight punky four-piece with cheap suits and thin ties who were electrifying in a pub setting. Garry is the one on the right, I asked somebody at the time what his big secret was, apparently it was the fact that he had a false leg. He’d lost one of his actual legs as a consequence of his dedication to smoking which he was still doing with vigour and aplomb, he’d roll up one handed whilst singing which was impressive to behold. The band’s star attraction was the guitarist Austin Danks, a true rock ‘n’ roller with serious stagecraft and gimmickry, the likes of which I’d only seen on Hendrix clips previously. The hushed rumours in the Town Mouse were that he was actually Screaming Lord Sutch’s guitarist which would put him in the illustrious company of the likes of Ritchie Blackmore, Noel Redding and Mitch Mitchell. I found a blog detailing all the members of Sutch’s touring bands and it looks like it’s indeed true.

The Winchesters

The Winchesters were a Western Swing band with a strong comedic show, their front man had proper pipes too. I’m taken aback to have found a clip of them on Des O’Connor’s Pot of Gold, you’d think I’d remember something like that happening to an East Lancs cover band but I’ve been blindsided by it. We loved their entire show but the moment we were always waiting for was their epic closing version of Cigarettes and Whiskey and Wild Wild Women. It grew and grew till it also encompassed Champion the Wonderhorse, I’ve never seen an audience able to resist the compulsion to sing along with this ode to temperance.

Obviously we all already loved the song due to the Muppets and Peter Sellers version, right?

John Oddie

I’m loathed to upload this clip because of how bad the drummer is (he uploaded it too) but then these are pub bands when all is said and done, it’s going to be patchy. John Oddie was my hero when I was at school, I’d go and watch him anywhere and everywhere and these were the first times I was in a room with someone playing a Hammond organ. He carried around a battered M102 like the one I ended up with, it was cranked through a Leslie 145 and it growled. From the moment I heard it there was no way I’d end up on anything else. He played blisteringly fast, relentless and aggressive, listening to it now it isn’t in the least bit tasteful but I was 15 and it was mesmerising and utterly compelling. Within three or four years of me following him round, trying to somehow fathom his otherworldly brilliance through proximity and persistence, he’d become a hopeless and bothersome drunk. I was still slightly in awe of him when he’d show at my gigs asking if I’d lend him £1.02 for his bus fare, even though I knew full well that it was the exact price of a can of Kestrel Super rather than anything to do with local transit. I gave him the money as though it’d somehow buy me Hammond organ chop points. Maybe it did. He started getting into scraped and accidents, he took a bad beating from some younger guys. He died tragically young of numerous health complications and I felt sad for the loss of a life of such massive unrealised potential.

It Never Stops

The Earlies are now a promotional juggernaut that can’t stop and won’t stop till October the 12th. I said I wouldn’t constantly bother you with it but I feel it’d be borderline spiteful not to include JM’s delightful new animation in this week’s Substack. It makes me feel like buying a ticket but here’s the catch, I don’t need one because I’m playing all night! I suppose you’ll have to buy one instead of me.

35 Years Without Jim

It’s 35 years since Jim Henson died and it’s 35 years since his friends and colleagues held a memorial service for him. I’ve been watching clips of it all week, it’s hilarious and emotional, it’s got all my favourite songs in it. I’m always in awe of people who can perform with this kind of professionalism after recent bereavement, it’s staggering really. It’s as though the people are broken but they know if they just leave it to the Muppets on the ends of their arms everything will work out fine. And it does.

Auger at the Roundhouse

I watched a gig at the Roundhouse this week, maybe I’ll talk about that some other time, who knows? It was weird that it was there though because that very morning I’d been watching this clip of Brian Auger’s Oblivion Express live at the Roundhouse. I recommend it, they’re on fire. The audience are all on mushrooms by the look of it, maybe I’m being unfairly presumptuous though, they could have genuine mental illnesses. I sort of enjoy films of people having a dance in the 60s but it’s be a nightmare to be sat near the daft bastards wouldn’t it? Seriously though, watch Brian. He’s the best.