- I played in a punk band called "The Freeze", some nice young boys from Linlithgow. (and me) Our big claim to fame was supporting The Skids in some wee hall in Dunfermline. (This was before Into The Valley, etc) We split, and lost touch with each other. A few years later, Gordon the singer called me out of the blue. Did I want to meet up for a pint? Of course - so I planned to meet him in the pub just at the viaduct as you go in Linlithgow (The Bridge Inn?). I was a bit late, entered the pub, looked all over for him. Didn't see his trademark drainpipe jeans and tight leather jacket. Then realised the sinister looking "girl" with something looking like an old wedding dress and make-up similar to Robert Smith of the Cure was our old singer Gordon. He'd gone down to "that London " and realised he preferred to dress as a woman. That was an interesting pint.
- I'd always wanted one of those nifty wee Shure headset mics that I'd seen some drummers wearing - means you don't have a big mic stand to lug about, and get in your way for the "ultimate fill". Being skint as usual, I couldn't afford them (they were £150 in the olden days) So I came up with a great idea at a gig. Just before going on, I got an old coat hanger, gaffa taped an old SM57 to the hook bit, bent it back towards me, and put the main part of the hanger around my neck. With some tweaking, it fit like a glove. A quick "one two" and the band were on. Check me out - the drummer that can sing! Unfortunately, I hadn't reckoned on some simple physics. I was a physical drummer, and as I rocked back and forth on my stool, the mic was springing backwards and forwards, smashing f*** out of my teeth. And rock and roll doesn't stop for a few splintered teef, so I had to continue until the end of the song, with a constant "four to the floor to the teeth", whilst my nubile young girlfriend pished herself laughing at me.
- The "compere guy" in a club in Bannockburn who prefaced his introduction to the band with the words "Ladies and Gentlemen, its not often we pay this much for a band..."
- And the time Kickers were all the rage. Everyone in the band had a pair. Except me. Again, I was always skint, but managed to scrape and save up for a pair of off-white kickers with bright red laces. £35!! (On a farm boys wages...) The band van came to my mums house to pick me up for another tour of Rothienorman, Old Meldrum and Peterhead. For some reason I put my beloved (twice worn) Kickers on the back step of the van. About 20 mins on the motorway, I realised what I'd done. We pulled over, I ran around the back of the van to see - uno Kicker. If anyone in Carronshore found a brand new Kicker...
- Finally, same band as above. Guitarist was the only one who could drive. Theses were the days when you did a gig, and people would ask you back to theirs for a drink. Guitarist driver did his usual - fell asleep in an armchair. So for a laugh we shaved his eyebrows off. Such fun. And we sniggered as we woke him and piled into the van to return home. And continued to titter until the police pulled us over. Consider the thoughts of the polis as Guitarist wound down his window to reveal his brow free coupon. Don't know if you've ever seen someone with no eye brows - you can't quite work out what's wrong with the picture... "right you, out the van!"
Sex, drugs, rock n' roll, babies, puppies, comic heroes, pop stars, rock legends, watermelons, gear...its all in here! Not a blog in the usual "entry a day" sense...
Thursday, 24 May 2007
I'll never forget whatshisname
Talking to Mellow Mark about some of those band moments that come flooding back.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment