Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Ashes Heroes off to Pakistan

The England cricket team flew off yesterday for their forthcoming test and ODI series in Pakistan, captained by Michael Vaughan. The three tests, and five one-day internationals will be a far cry from the most amazing series ever seen this summer, when England beat Australia to reclaim the ashes.

The following players have been selected for England's tour of Pakistan in October-December 2005:

Test squad

Michael Vaughan (Yorkshire, capt)
James Anderson (Lancashire)
Ian Bell (Warwickshire)
Paul Collingwood (Durham)
Andrew Flintoff (Lancashire)
Ashley Giles (Warwickshire)
Steve Harmison (Durham)
Matthew Hoggard (Yorkshire)
Geraint Jones (Kent)
Alex Loudon (Warwickshire)
Kevin Pietersen (Hampshire)
Liam Plunkett (Durham)
Matt Prior (Sussex)
Andrew Strauss (Middlesex)
Marcus Trescothick (Somerset)
Shaun Udal (Hampshire)

ODI squad

Michael Vaughan (Yorkshire, capt)
James Anderson (Lancashire)
Paul Collingwood (Durham)
Andrew Flintoff (Lancashire)
Ashley Giles (Warwickshire)
Stephen Harmison (Durham)
Geraint Jones (Kent)
Kevin Pietersen (Hampshire)
Liam Plunkett (Durham)
Matt Prior (Sussex)
Vikram Solanki (Worcestershire)
Andrew Strauss (Middlesex)
Marcus Trescothick (Somerset)

The pitches in Pakistan will be very different to those in England, but it is unknown at this stage if the Pakistanis will favour and prespare turning or seaming tracks.

England have tried to cover all bases by picking their usual test match seam attack (minus the injured Simon Jones) plus three spinners - the incumbent Ashley Giles, plus Alex Loudon, and Shaun Udal. I toured Australia with Udal in 1994/5 when he hardly got a game and spent just about as much time in the bar as I did; my, how times change.

The first test is played after a couple of warm up matches, so it will be interesting to see if the batters, including Kevin Pietersen, can get some runs and confidence ahead of the first test starting on 12 November.

Friday, October 21, 2005

NME Stories - the links

Here are the links to all my NME stories (so far) in one place, as this may help navigation backwards and forwards.

I haven't been able to link them automatically (maybe one good friend out there can tell me how to link to single stories from my blog archive?) - sorry!

27th September 2005 -
The NME Years
28th September 2005 -
NME Heroes-Part one:Danny Baker/Ian Pye/Phil McNeil/Ian Penman
3rd October 2005 -
NME Heroes-Part two: Julie Burchill/Monty Smith/Roy Carr
3rd October 2005 -
NME Heroes-Part three: Gary Crowley/Nick Kent/David Swift
4th October 2005 -
NME Heroes-Part four: Charles Shaar Murray/Danny Kelly/Nick Logan/Neil Spencer
5th October 2005 -
NME Heroes-Part five:Paul Morley/Tony Stewart/Steve Lamacq/Max Bell/Derek Johnson
12th October 2005 -
NME Heroes-Part six: Tony Parsons/Penny Reel/Wendy Holt-Lewis-Baker
20th October 2005 -
NME Heroes-Part seven: Tony Ociepka

There are a more than few more stories to come, and a few more pen pics too, but they are fun people rather than famous people! I'll get cracking on more memories when I can.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

NME Heroes - Part seven

I guess I have covered most of the writers and "famous" people that I worked with at NME, and that the only people left that I haven't written about specifically are the advertising staff, plus the admin guys and gals at the editorial department. Most stories I write about NME days will contain mention of some of these people, so I'll try to give a brief lowdown here on some of the likely culprits you may read about in future blogs on this site: First up is -

Tony Ociepka

I was good friends with Tony, or Tony O, or Tonio, or Tone, as he might be called, who was the "Gofer" at NME (the go-for-this, go-for-that jobholder). Nobody knew how to pronounce his (Polish) surname (O-See-ka or O-Chep-ka?) so we just used Tony O mainly. Tony looked like a smaller-version of Clint Eastwood in his man-with-no-name persona (see pic); small black cigarillo, hat (though not a cowboy one, usually a flat or baseball cap), unshaven or with a short beard, and slow, laid back attitude.

We went boozing on many occasions - he was my main drinking buddy for about five years - and played lots of pool in that time, mainly in The Dog and Trumpet, but in many other London pubs too. We would seek out pool tables where we could get a game or ten; Opera Tavern, Stamford Arms, White Hart (Waterloo), White Hart (Drury Lane), Stamford Club, Wellington, and many more pubs whose names have changed and that I can't remember.

Tony used to come along to some of the gigs that I'd get free tickets for and also to a few football matches; I used to go to all the Charlton away games then, and I encouraged Tony to drive us both if the distance wasn't too far - I would pay his entry cost, plus an extra few beers, to pay for the petrol. We went to places like Reading, Colchester, and Brighton (where we lost 7-0!) amongst others. We'd always get back into town, drop his car off at his home (at one of the Peabody estates near Covent Garden), and go out on the booze for the night. He also came along to a few home games, and we'd do stupid things like pub crawls (by car - we didn't think about D&D...) along the Old Kent Road trying to find pool tables. One evening, we found a pub near the New Cross end of the OKR. We got our beers, put our money down on the table and started to watch and wait our turn. You always got funny looks - foreigners in a local pub - but we could handle it. Tony played first (it was winner stayed on), and won; I then played him and beat him. Then I beat a couple of others, but by now a bling-covered thick set black man, about 30 years old, had walked into the pub and put his money down. You could tell he was the main man in this pub... His turn came and I was the winner staying on to play him. He was good, but I played a pretty good game, and beat him with about four balls to spare. There was a deathly hush when the locals saw me knocking the balls in and lining up the next shot pretty well. Plop! Plop! Plop! Down they went. I was on the black and stroked it the length of the table into the corner pocket. He was not amused. At all! He reached into his pocket (it was a bit of an "oh my god" moment, where we going to have to run for it?) and pulled out some more coins; but he didn't have enough and had to ask at the bar for change. He wasn't used to being beaten and I suspectthat his first coins usually kept him on the table all night! I played Tony next up, and he beat me. This didn't amuse Mister Bling one little bit and he wiped the floor with Tony next game. Nobody else had put money down once he'd walked in to the bar in case it upset him! I also hadn't put any more money down as it was kind-of time to move on. Mister Bling was furious that he didn't get another chance to face me across the green baise... We left, and checked our backs as we got into the car, onwards to the next pub!

Tony left NME in 1986 - he took redundancy - once the editorial department had moved into Commonwealth House. I always regretted not staying at his farewell leaving drink (in The Falkland Arms in Bloomsbury) but Charlton were playing Brighton that night (2-2 draw in our promotion season) at Selhurst Park. I popped in for a couple but made my excuses and left when I had to. Tony did not have a phone at home, and it was in the days before everyone had mobiles so we lost touch. I saw him just once after that, a year or so later when I bumped into him and his dad outside Charing Cross station. We had a chat then agreed to have a beer that night. It was just like the old days drinks-wise but we didn't meet up again, as we couldn't contact each other easily.

I have lots more stories where Tony will get mentioned, but will refrain from putting them here as they are more general.

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

Coping with Copenhagen

 
 Posted by Picasa We had a good weekend in Copenhagen, and some of our pictures are here for you to enjoy. The weather was fabulous, unlike the forecast, with clear blue skies on Saturday and Sunday. It was 'fresh', true (my girlfriend will hate me for saying that!!!), but when you are walking around most of the day that doesn't really matter. The first image is the Statue of Two Vikings, blowing their bronze horns. It's situated by the side of Radhuspladsen and is about 100 years old...
 
 Posted by PicasaThis lovely church - Helligandskirken - was just off the main shopping street - Stroget. The sun was low, so the shadow of the tree on the church was pretty. The tree also frames the picture well. Every time we walked down past the church (a couple of times a day) it seemed to get busier. My girlfriend liked this street (She loves shopping!!!) and she dragged me into a few shops, but remarkably didn't buy too much - just two pairs of leather gloves (as it was colder than expected and they were cheap). We did spend a fair amount of time in the Georg Jensen (jewelery)shop, but she couldn't find anything nice enough and cheap enough to buy!  
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We stopped on Nyhavn, a canalside pathway, for a beer. It was our first Danish "pint" and very expensive! We put this down to the fact it was a very touristy street, but later found that every bar/pub was charging much the same - about £4.20 a pint! Most of the places along here were once old warehouses, and most had now been converted into restaurants or bars. Boat (canal) trips started from near here too, but we didn't partake.
 
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It transpired that the wife of the Crown Prince of Denmark had given birth to their firstborn on the night of our arrival, and much celebration had ensued. When we arrived near the royal quarters, the crowds became more abundant, and we caught the end of the Trooping of the Colour celebrating the new Royal.
 
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We then went inside the Marble Church (Marmorkirken) and took a tour up the dome. While waiting to start, we noticed the sun casting a shadow of a cross onto the far walls; these slowly moved clear of the arches until, looking from the whispering gallery, all three projected onto the marble walls.
 
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We had a great view from the top of Marmorkirken's dome. This is of the Opera House (far side of canal), the fountain on the quayside, and the statue of Frederik V in the square by the Amalienborg Slot, the stately home of the Royals. In the very far distance, is Sweden - just five miles away across the water of the Oresund.
 
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After lunch, we walked into Kongens Have, a nice park which is the city's oldest, and through to Rosenborg Slot, a C17th castle and home of the royal treasury. This is the Kings crown! Unlike London, we didn't have to queue at all to get in; just walk past the army guys, and through the thick vault doors!
 
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We had walked miles on Saturday, so decided to go to Roskilde by train on Sunday for a much more leisurely day. We walked past the lovely cathedral (Roskilde Domkirke), through the park and down to the Viking Ship museum. These are two real Viking long boats, built around 1050, and excavated from the fjord a few miles away, and one of six they found scuttled to prevent Norwegian invasion ships getting near the town. We spent the afternoon in a nice bar in town, getting slightly sozzled!
 
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Back at Copenhagen station, we saw this huge array of bicycles outside. It seems that there are nearly as many bikes as cars on the streets here. Most bikes are not chained either - I guess if everyone has one then you don't need to take someone elses?
 
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I guess we couldn't go to Copenhagen without mentioning Hans Christian Anderson. Here is his statue outside the town hall in Radhuspladsen. The town hall (Radhus) was amazing; it has a magnificent clock (made by Jens Olsen), all shiny and gold with cogs turning, that tells you the time, where the moon is, what phase etc, plus that of all the planets, and the stars in the sky that night! It also has some great architecture - snakes carved in columns and famous heads in walls, plus a cool plaster curtain fringe on the staircase walls. We also made it to the top of the 105m tall clock tower for more good views of the city; that was 300 steps up and another 300 steps down...

Friday, October 14, 2005

Copenhagen dreamin'

I'm off to Wonderful Copenhagen later today with the girlfriend for the weekend; I'll post some pictures and tell you all how we got on next week once we are back. Have fun!

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

NME Heroes - Part six

Tony Parsons

Tony was the other journalist employed, along with Julie Burchill, in response to the "Hip young gunslingers wanted" advert carried on the classified pages of NME in late 1976.

An Essex boy, Tony was a Spurs fan, and we spent time over a few beers in The Cumberland Stores talking football.

I first met Tony at the Patti Smith gig where my colleague Frank had introduced me to the two new NME staff writers (Tony plus Julie Burchill). We got on quite well that night, as mentioned, and always said hello to each other and had a chat whenever we got the chance.

I used to love reading Tony's singles review page; if Tony liked a record, he'd praise it but if not, he could rip a band to pieces in just a few lines - he really didn't take any prisoners! The singles reviewer changed every week at NME, and the duty was shared amongst six or seven writers with the occasional guest. It was always quite funny seeing who was doing the singles each week as, on a Thursday afternoon usually, the chosen writer would closet themselves in the sound proofed central office/room in Carnaby Street (where the record deck was situated), and generally not come out until all the reviews were written. Sometimes, this would be hours and hours later... You could quite understand why, some weeks, a few of the "main" singles got long reviews, but others (deemed not so important I guess) only warranted a few lines or even words. My theory was that the writers got bored of being shut in the room with nobody else around, playing singles that they didn't really like, and just scribbled a few words to "prove" to the record companies (and maybe the editor?) that they'd listened to it.

Tony married Julie eventually, and they had a son, Bobby, before divorcing.

Tony is the writer of several novels, some of which are semi-autobiographical, dealing with the breakdown of relationships, single parenthood and the like.

Tony now has a regular column in The Mirror (which I still read when I get the chance) and participates in the BBC arts programme, Newsnight Review. He has also written for, among other publications, The Face, Marie Claire, The Daily Mail, Arena, The Guardian, Elle, The Daily Telegraph, The Spectator, The Sunday Times, GQ and Red.

Penny Reel

I don't think I ever got to know Penny's real name, but it was a clever monicker that he used. He loved reggae, and was a Rasta in truth and looks, though I'm not sure this sat very well with his Jewish family. He had long, unkept, hair, stuffed up beneath a wooly cap; his teeth were awful; and he wouldn’t have won any style or fitness competitions either!

Penny took over from me as the organiser of the annual NME Pool Competition; I'd organized the first three or four, but got a bit bored with the hassle, and handed over the reins to Penny one year (about 1986). Penny ran it well that year, but come the next year, he lost interest but retained the entry money that I and a few other staff had handed over to him! We never did get it back...

The reason for this was that Penny left NME quite suddenly.

It was no secret that he didn't get on with the new editor at the time - Ian Pye - so when some red paint graffiti appeared daubed on the outside of Commonwealth House (and on the MOD building opposite) he was the prime suspect. I don't remember exactly what the wording said, but it was along the lines of "Die Pye" or similar. I also don't know why he was suspected immediately, and when I quietly spoke to him about it he just denied doing it, but smiled knowingly... He left quite soon after that episode, and our pool tournament money went with him.

Wendy Holt/Lewis/Baker

I knew Wendy, or Wend as most people called her, for years. She was the Advert Managers secretary for a few years at Kings Reach Tower, before moving across to Carnaby Street to become the Editors secretary when Kathy Kelly moved on.

A peroxide blond, who had five older sisters and a brother, we had lots of fun together, and I cared about her a lot. She liked a few drinks every now and then, and also liked to go and see bands whenever she could - I obliged on both counts.

She married her long time boyfriend and childhood sweetheart - Kevin Lewis - but it didn't work out, and she went out with a few others before settling down with Danny Baker. They have a couple of kids - Sonny and Bonnie.

One funny story that Dan told about her was when they were in Florida on holiday (possibly honeymoon?). They were in an expensive hotel, sitting by the pool catching a few rays. Also sunbathing were Don Johnson, fanceable star of Miami Vice, a high profile TV cop show at that time, and his slightly less well-known wife, actress Melanie Griffiths - both pretty famous celebrities around this time. Apparently Wendy said to Dan "Is that Don Johnson over there?" to which Danny replied that it was. Wendy then said "So is that Melanie Griffiths with him?" Once more Dan replied in the affirmative. Wendy's response was "She ain't all that then is she?" There is no answer to that, but I always remember Wendy for thinking that whenever I see Ms Griffiths in a movie these days!

Prior to courting Danny, Wendy had a fairly hot relationship with a guy called Mark Woon. Mark's father was fairly high up at the BBC at that time, and Mark lived with his parents at their large basement flat in Hampstead - they were not a poor family! Mark worked at Phonogram Records, initially in the post room, before getting an A&R post. I used to take Mark and Wendy along to gigs whenever I could, and we saw some fine bands together on really good nights out. In return, Mark would get me an occasional Phonogram single/12"/album on (or sometimes prior to) release. I remember Mark having his 21st birthday party at The Venue, at Victoria, a place/club that opened late but had good up-and-coming bands generally. It was a terrific night; all Mark's friends were there, and the good news was that Mark didn't end up paying for anything. He had promised to pay a hire price (about £125 I think) but left before he handed over any money! Mark told me once that he had been asked to be the singer with Madness, and that Suggsy was in fact the band's second choice. I don't know if this was true, but he was certainly friends with the band. Maybe the fact he couldn't sing had some effect on the eventual decision? Unfortunately, Mark had a major problem with substance abuse, which wasn't something that Wendy condoned at all, so they eventually split up. Mark continued to dote on Wendy though, and a few times would call me to join him for a few beers so he could drown his sorrows.

Even before she went out with Mark, Wendy was fun to be around, and was always dressing up fashionably. She bought a fancy coat once, but every time she tried to get it cleaned it would come back from the dry cleaners ruined. She would then take it back to the shop and get a replacement. This happened about three times until eventually she gave up. One other time, when still working at Kings Reach Tower, on a Friday night, Wendy had said she was going over to The Wellington pub (near The Lyceum) to meet a friend. I asked if I could tag along as I was at a loose end that night and she said yes. I finished work about 6pm (we worked late on Fridays) and went upstairs to Wendy’s (open-plan) office. I was standing to one side, looking out of the 25th floor window, when Wendy came out of the ladies toilet and turned left into the apparently empty office. I heard the door go so turned, to see Wendy still pulling her boob-tube top up over her ample chest! I think I coughed, and that made her look up and blush. Another time, she'd been out window shopping and seen some shoes she wanted. She couldn't buy them as it was still a couple of days before pay-day, but she kept going on and on about how she "must have those bloooo shoes!!!".

I was pictured with Wendy on the back of the NME Ad department Christmas single (Stiff Records) but the image has been doctored so that a bottle of champagne has covered our holding hands. Funny that; there was one (empty) bottle of booze going around that evening we took the photos yet it appeared about three times in that picture! The single was recorded at Stiffs studios in North London; the song was very much ripped off from Sham 69's "Hersham Boys" single as three chords were about all our "guitarist" could manage. Actually, only three NME people played on that track (McDuff, Flavell, Rhodes), but all of the department sang (the sickly Good King Wenceslas) on the B side except me (I hummed!).

Sometimes, I think Wendy got a bit lonely with the somewhat boring company at KRT, which is maybe why eventually she transferred over to the more exciting Carnaby Street editorial office.

Monday, October 10, 2005

John Lennon's free bus pass

Yesterday, no pun intended, would to have been John Lennon's 65th birthday, had he not been murdered in New York 25-odd years ago. You can sign an online birthday card for him here. When I signed it yesterday, it had over 5000 signatories.

Way back when Pedro45 was a mere nipper, the first ever record that he can remember buying was The Beatles "She loves you". I have a vague recollection of walking around to the record store with my parents and sister, and holding the brown paper bag containing the single in my hand on the way home, with a huge smile on my face.

My favourite memory of Lennon was the sheer delight he seemed to show in the video, apparently recorded live in the recording studio as he laid down the track, that accompanied the Stand By Me single - "...Dahlin', DAHLIN', Stand...by me, ohohoh...Stand by me, just as long, as you stand, stand by me..." etc.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

NME Heroes - Part Five

Paul Morley
Paul was a Manc, when it wasn't too fashionable to be a Manc in London, and he arrived at NME about the same time as Ian Penman. He spoke at a hundred miles an hour, and was sometimes difficult to understand because of this and his accent.

I first met him when Spandau Ballet broke into the big time. This was mainly because I had been friends with some members of the band before they had changed their name; originally they were called The Makers, then The Gentry, before eventually hitting it big with Spandau Ballet. Tony Hadley worked in Dorset House, a building opposite Kings Reach Tower where the NME ad offices were; Steve Norman worked in the next office to me, on magazines like Yachting Monthly, Popular Gardening, and the like. When The Makers started out, Steve used to ask for a small advert to go into NME on the Live! Ads pages, and we came to an agreement whereby we'd carry it free (if we had space) if he'd put me on the guest list for the gig. This worked well, and I think we only missed an advert out once that he wanted us to print. I therefore went to see the band play all over London - from Crouch End Church to the Rock Garden in Covent Garden! Anyway, I was in the editorial offices in Carnaby Street one afternoon, and Neil Spencer started talking about Spandau to Morley; he not very politely suggested to Paul that if he wanted to know anything about their past, he should talk to me...Paul therefore came over, notepad in hand, and started to ask me questions about the band - what music they played, how many in the band and what instruments, what songs they wrote, etc? Very strange to think that Mister Morley honed his interview skills on yours truly!

He wrote long, long articles, as did Penman, mainly as they were paid per word.

Wikipedia tells me - Paul left NME in 1983, and since written for a wide number of publications. He was the first presenter of BBC2's The Late Show, and has appeared as a music pundit on a number of other programmes. He was a co-founder, with Trevor Horn, of ZTT Records, and The Art of Noise. He is the author of Words and Music: a history of pop in the shape of a city. The book is an authoritative, scholarly and highly idiosyncratic journey through the history of pop; it seeks to trace the connection between Alvin Lucier's experimental audio recording, "I am sitting in a room" and Kylie Minogue's "Can't get you out of my head". A synthetic Kylie features as the central character of the book. His other books include Ask: The Chatter of Pop (a collection of his music journalism) and Nothing, a biographical book reflecting on his father's suicide and that of Joy Division singer Ian Curtis.

Tony Stewart

Tony held a number of roles during my time at NME; he started as a freelance writer, then he became part of the staff team, then moved upwards through the news desk, to Deputy Editor, until eventually he left to become Editor at Sounds. He left mainly because he'd been overlooked for the NME Editors job I think.

Tony lived fairly locally to me, so when (in about 1983) we had to go up to Kettering the night before our normal train day out (in order to ensure that the work got completed in time) Tony sometimes drove up in his Jaguar, and I went with him (for the ride). We used to chat a lot on these trips, but I didn't ever have the feeling that Tony was a happy man.

He got on well with most other staff, but he did have a temper. It was unusual for Tony to come out drinking at lunchtimes, or evenings, and I think we found out why one night...he couldn't handle his drink!

I'd arranged for a bunch of us to play pool in The Dog and Trumpet one night - it may have been an adverts versus editorial match, I'm not sure, though we did do this occasionally. Anyway, this night had been fun; a whole bunch of beers had been drunk, the match was over, and Tony was now drinking neat vodka for some reason - doubles at that! It was getting on, around 10pm, and I was playing pool against him in a singles game. Tony was a reasonable player who spent regular time at the snooker club in Eltham, where he lived. Snooker and pool are very different games, and though he could cue well, he didn't have the tactical nouse necessary to regularly beat good (I'm ever modest me!) players like me. In this game, I was playing well, and winning, but not taking it too seriously. I was chatting to someone else who was playing on another table between shots, and watching Tony play his shots on our table from a distance. Tony ended up calling me when it was my turn, and though I knew this, I was talking and slow to return to the table. He said something, to which I responded negatively, and next thing I knew he was in my face, standing right in front of me, snarling at me. I couldn't help but notice that he had blue chalk dust on his nose, and smirked - and that probably caused Tony to head butt me. I took a couple of steps back but, fully cognitive, I didn't want him to follow up with anything else so I whacked him on the shoulder, quite hard, with the cue I was holding. I could have smashed it over his head but I just did it as a warning not to try anything more. That set him off, and a couple of other players (not NME staff) jumped in and contained him. They knew me, as I was a pool regular, and could see I was the one being provoked. Tony was escorted out, struggling, but not before I had got angry and gave him a kick in the balls from behind for his trouble.

Amazingly, he rang me the next morning to apologise; I told him it didn't matter and then he said that someone had booted him where it hurts on the way out but he didn't know who that was...I didn't confess!

Tony failed at Sounds, the paper folding in the late 80's. He has since become a travel writer I believe, and writes a couple of pages for the Mirror every now and then with his opinion of somewhere far way.

Steve Lamacq
Steve is another of the former NME gang to have become a successful radio DJ. I remember Steve particularly when he was in the midst of a battle with another writer over who could see the most gigs in a year. The number they were up to was astonishing - literally hundreds, with them sometimes going to three or four a night! They obviously couldn't tell each other where they were each going, as nobody would have made a gain on the other if they did...I never did find out who won, or what the prize was going to be... Consequently, Steve didn't have much time to hang around the pub or visit the typesetter!

Max Bell

I don't really have any stories to tell about Max, except to say I was a little jealous of him and his boy-ish good looks as he seemed to bed all the girls that I fancied. No names...you know who you are!

Once, he did allow me to use his guest list entry at Hammersmith Odeon to see Lou Reed, but it nearly all went wrong. The guy I went with spoke very loudly. When we were standing in the ticket office queue, this guy said (in a voice that everyone else could hear) "So are you going to pretend to be Max Bell then?" I told him to shut up, but just as we got near to the front of the queue, I heard another bloke announce himself as Max Bell to the ticket office guest list holder! There was a lot of faking names went on in those days (it probably still does), and certain peoples names who you could guess would be on lists were frequently usurped by identity fraudsters. I stepped in quickly and said that he wasn't Max, and that Max had said I could have his tickets. Luckily, this guy couldn't prove he knew Max or worked for NME but I could - I got the tickets!

Max currently contributes to Uncut, the Evening Standard and other publications, apparently.

Derek Johnson

Derek was the news editor for the first few years I was at NME. When we went across to Carnaby Street to check the dummy, we had a desk for our use situated in Derek's office. Derek was always on the phone talking to promoters or record companies to see what was going on. He was therefore a very good source of info on what new gig's had been announced or albums were being released before the news actually got into print. Derek definitely didn't fit in with the rest of the crowd at Carnaby Street, being significantly older than everyone else (except maybe Roy Carr?). He was a Palace fan which meant I didn't like him much either, but I did feel sorry for him when he was shunted out the door, seemingly for being uncool!

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

NME Heroes - Part Four

Charles Shaar Murray
Charlie Murray - famous music writer, guitarist, band leader, radical, and Ramones fan! Charlie had curly dark hair, had a permanently curled lip and nearly always wore sun glasses, even at night or on the tube! He was a strange person, very intelligent, with a deep interest in music of many forms, but I guess he'll go to his grave (one day) thinking that he was mis-understood.

Mr Murray was one of, in not the, top writers when I joined NME. He was better than Mick Farren, Nick Kent, Tony Tyler, etc, and he knew it. He had made his name writing for OZ! Magazine, a sort of 1970 kid's fanzine, that became embroiled in an obscenity court case due to the swearing and naked women pictures it contained. "Corrupting our children's youth" cried the barrister; "written by the kids themselves" was the retort!

Charlie joined NME in 1973, and stayed for 13 years. He often seemed to look down his nose at the younger, newer, writers and somehow I think he wished he was just 19 all over again.

He spoke very well, and would regularly read passages from articles in the papers out loud on the train for everyone to hear. He didn't care if you weren't interested; he'd carry on regardless, talking over anyone else who may be speaking or who tried to interrupt.

Charlie wasn't one of those who liked getting up early every Tuesday morning for the printers day out. He did it though because he liked the company I think. Maybe he was inherently lonely? Charlie would come along to the pub at lunchtime too, but I don't think the Kettering locals liked his leather jacket, afro hair, and rock 'n' roll look.

Eventually, one day, CSM had had enough of the printers; he turned up at St Pancras station with his Walkman on, playing full volume, he spoke to no-one unusually. He sat on the train with the same music blaring out; he read and corrected his pages at the printer with the music loud as anything - the same album, time after time. It was tough to concentrate; not all of us liked The Ramones that much! Eventually, after about five hours of this, Phil McNeill confronted him, saying something like if he didn't want to be there to F-off back to London and let everyone else get on with their jobs. This worked, just as Charlie wanted. He packed his bags, jumped in a cab, and never had to do the Kettering printers run again. Job sorted!

Charlie was also a reasonable musician. He had a band - Blast Furnace and the Heatwaves - who played blues and R'n'B covers along with some original material. They - Blast himself on guitar and vocals, D. Based on bass, Blitz Krieg (Andy) on rhythm and slide guitar, Skid Marx on harmonica, and Bee Bop or Tim Pani on drums - were good fun to watch live, I saw them play many times, but would never make it big.

One time they were supporting Eddie and the Hot Rods at The Marquee in Wardour Street; I had been asked to roadie/help out along with colleague Frank. The gear was set up and sound check done by the time we arrived. So I watched the set, then stood at the side of the stage behind the speakers where the gear (drums, amps etc) were to be stored during the Hot Rods set: The Marquee was too small to get support groups stuff out before the main band came on. I helped store it as it was lifted down off stage to me. We departed for the pub until it was time to go back and pack up the gear, but when arriving back inside a still heaving Marquee (the Hot Rods were still on stage), some guy told me that our gear was being flung around and generally dumped on by the crowd. Luckily this was not true...

Another time, Blast and the band got a support slot at The Lyceum on an Easter Monday, and Frank and I were asked to help out again. The headline act was The Boomtown Rats, who were just starting to regularly have hit singles. I met Frank about 5pm and we really struggled to get inside due to the security guys. Eventually, we made it, and the sound check was going on, the Rats had done their check already, then we retreated to the pub. We went back to The Lyceum, and the band went up to the upstairs dressing room to get ready. When it was time to go on, Andy, the rhythm guitarist asked me to carry his spare guitar on stage, and generally look after things his side, the far side. Harvey Goldsmith was the promoter, and he introduced the band (as "here's a rock journalist's band"), and on we went; I had to go first (FIRST!) as I was heading for the far side of the stage. It was a stultifying experience! Walking out on stage with over 2000 punks watching you (my hair was fairly long then...) screaming abuse. I was petrified I'd fall over something. Luckily I didn't. I made it across and stacked Andy's guitar. They played a great set and off they went back to the dressing room upstairs. Frank and myself, plus other roadies, quickly set about dismantling the Heatwaves equipment and stored it behind the main stage, out of the way.
I'd finished my bit and headed upstairs into the dressing room where the band were talking to the Rats singer. Frank then entered, in his normal loud manner. Although he was Irish by decent, he had a very English accent. He could "do" Irish though, and this time he strode into the small room talking loudly in a broad Irish brogue about how he was effing knackered or something. He stopped talking when Bob Geldof turned and faced him, with those big staring eyes we've now come to know so well. One look from the big Irishman was enough for Frank to apologise!

Blast and the band ended up in court once more - a pattern emerging for Mr Murray here? - when the soul band Heatwave took a dislike to Blast using Heatwaves in his bands name. Charlie lost that one too, and Blast Furnace and The Legal Matter existed for a couple of years, until they finally disappeared.

Charlie still writes, and very well, and has published a few books in the last ten years or so, as well as writing for The Observer.

Danny Kelly
Dan was always one of the nice guys, and I am really pleased that he has made his fortune.

We didn't have huge amounts to do with each other during our times at NME, but had a healthy respect. Dan was a Spurs fan, and appreciated the troubles that Charlton went through in the late 80's. He was good fun to talk to, and always had an opinion about football, good or bad.

Dan eventually made it to Deputy Editor and then, when Alan Lewis was moved on to other things, was made Editor. The last time I had any contact with him was when I moved house back in the early 90's, a couple of years after I'd left NME. I had stored and kept copies of the paper each week during the late 70's and early 80's (I'd take one home to read on the train), and knew that someone (a punk music researcher probably) had torn large parts out of the printed and bound volumes of these years/issues that NME kept - the only archival record there was in fact. It was a fairly important time music wise, so these issues were very important, and referred back to regularly. I contacted Fiona Foulger, who asked Dan if they were wanted or required. Of course they were! (I sometimes wonder what I could have sold them for on eBay or similar if I still had them...) Dan duly arranged for a van to come around to my parent's house to pick them up. I hope that they came in useful.

In the mid-nineties, Dan moved on and started his own football website. I forget how much he sold it for, but the 365 websites - football, cricket, rugby, etc - were very popular at the time, and we are talking £millions here...

He then got into radio, and has had an on-off working partnership with Danny Baker for many years. So Dan is wealthy, successful, and probably very happy. It's just a shame he supports Spurs!

Nick Logan
Nick was editor when I joined NME in 1977, and he was quite a nice guy. We didn't socialise too much, and I was always a little scared when I had to deal with him over work matters due to him being the big boss! He went on to have a very successful career, and made lots of money, by launching Smash Hits, and then The Face, which he co-founded.

Neil Spencer
Neil took over as Editor from Nick Logan when he moved on, in the late seventies, previously having been Deputy Editor. Neil would add "Man..." to the end of very sentence, and did seem to have once upon a time been a bit of an old hippy. I'm sure if he could have, he would have grown his diminishing hair very long.

Neil was into reggae big time, and the smoking arrangements that seemed to accompany this type of music. Many a time was a there a smoky haze eminating from the Editor's office in Carnaby Street during late afternoon!

It was a standing joke to buzz up from the ground floor pretending to be the police and say into the microphone - "West End Central...let us in please love!" Luckily, the police weren't required much and it didn't happen for real too often, but when it did the toilets used to get busy very quickly! One time they were required though, was when some idiot came in saying he had a delivery and thought it a good idea to fire a gun (OK, it only contained blanks...) on entering the reception area. The girls were absolutely petrified understandably! I don't remember what band this guy was trying to promote, but suffice to say that Neil didn't give them many column inches after that episode!

Neil used to come along to the printers each week, and join us in the pub run when he wasn't too busy. He was good to talk to, a father figure in some respects when I first joined the gang, though I didn't trust him that much.

He was a lucky editor in that he was in the right place at the right time; he could have taken NME to new heights but for some reason, possibly the backing he got from IPC, or maybe due to bullying from the writers themselves, things never quite moved forwards as expected.

I guess Neil still writes for whomever will give him a pay cheque, but I haven't seen or found much from him recently, man.

Too conservative?

Pedro45 is defintely not a Tory, so I don't want to blemish this blog with political ramblings about the going nowhere party too much. I will just post a little something about the election of a new Conservative Party leader though.

I will find it absolutley astonishing if old fogies like Kenneth Clark or Michael Ankram get elected as leader. Both are dinosaurs from the Thatcher years, a period of Governmental history that has become remembered but despised by Britons. If either gets to be leader, then this Tory party will form no part of any government in this country for many a year, and the Liberal Democrats will be re-joicing in the streets. They (the Lib Dems) will almost certainly then become the main opposition party, for the first time in about 80 years!

A country thrives on competition, but there has been so little competition on a political level for the past ten years that this country is suffering a little. I'd much rather have a Labour government with a 40-seat majority than one with 140-seats more than the others combined. However, I'd rather have a Labour party in power with any majority than a governemnt formed by any other party at all.

Unless the Tories, or Lib Dems get their acts together soon, then the new Gordon Brown prime ministerial era (coming to a TV screen near you in a year or so...) will be a very long running one.

...and it's goodnight from him

It's a shame to see that Ronnie Barker died yesterday, at the age of 76, from heart trouble. He was one of Britain's funniest comedy-actors.

I used to love watching his shows on TV - The Two Ronnies was good, and I always preferred him over Ronnie Corbett. Open All Hours has proved to be a classic of it's time; the character Arkwright stuck in the Northern stereotype time-warp that we all know and love - Memories of Hovis music, bikes flying down cobbled hillsides, men walking home each evening from the pit, that sort of thing. And there he was, in his corner shop, selling anything and everything, trying to get into the pants (or bra mainly) of the district nurse, taking it out on the bumbling juvenile assistant (a fabulous David Jason). Classic. But there was better to come - Porridge. Originally made as a one-off pilot, this series ran for a few years in the end. Stuck inside the imaginery Slade Prison, Barker's cockney character Fletcher was a magnificent portrayal of what can go wrong in life to an old lag when the world is (perceivably) against you. Great scripts, fine back up from old hands at character acting, and we had one of the most endearing of all British comedies. Dateless. We can still watch it and laugh, endlessly.

Without a doubt, Ronnie Barker was a fine comedian, a very good actor, a wonderful script writer, and by all accounts a very nice person. I'll miss him.

Monday, October 03, 2005

NME Heroes - Part Three

Gary Crowley

Not everyone's cup of tea, but I really liked Gary, and we got one quite well. He followed Danny Baker into the receptionist's chair at the Carnaby Street offices, but whereas Dan could write very well, Gary, quite frankly, couldn't.

What Gary could do very well was talk, and talk and talk and talk for hours! About music, mainly, though he wasn't completely one dimensional.

When he started at NME, in about 1980 I would think, he had a very attractive girlfriend named Niamh (Irish spelling, pronounced Neve) Fahey. Maybe the thought of getting a job at the NME went to his head a little, but for some reason, he soon dumped her (in The Dog and Trumpet pub at the end of Carnaby Street, it's now an O'Neill's) one evening, for no apparent reason. I had walked in for a beer and a few games of pool and there she was in tears...shame. Niamh had a soon-to-be more-famous sister called Siobhan, who's group I went to see, thanks to Gary, a year or so later.

Gary loved The Jam, and was good friends with the band. Through Paul Weller's dad, John, who managed them, he arranged for NME to play a football match against them one summer evening, at the height of their popularity. The pitch we had was just the concrete and fenced off six-a-side space in Lower Hatfield, on the south bank not far from the River Thames, and near to Kings Reach Tower where I worked. It was to be a low-key event, or so we thought. Unbeknown to me, the music/showbiz page of the London Evening News had published a brief notice in the paper that night, saying that the game had been arranged, also giving the time and venue, and that The Jam would be playing.

We hadn't even booked the pitch (it wasn't something you could do at that time, it was whoever was on it kind-of owned it!); I went down after work at around 5.30, and started kicking a ball around on my own. A couple of other players then came down, and we messed around waiting for the band to arrive. It was getting busier though, and I was getting worried about being kicked off the pitch due to the sheer weight of the number of people who seemed to be hanging around - twenty or thirty by now. Eventually, one lad came up to me, and asked me "if the Jam were playing here tonight?" I told him yes, but he then confounded me by asking where the stage would be then? I slowly explained that they would only be playing football!

Getting enough players wasn't a problem, especially as we only needed six! Gary brought a few friends along, so we had about ten willing to play in the end. The Jam lads all turned up and we had such a crowd (I reckon a couple of hundred at least) watching us at kick off that some of the NME staff onlookers came inside the gates so they could see! We played about ten a side, mainly at walking pace.

We had a good game; Wendy got very jealous when Bruce Foxton put his arm around me and leant on me as she fancied him rotten! I think we won easily - 11-0 springs to mind, but it was fun! (I also seem to remember scoring from a shot the length of the pitch while The Jam changed their goalie!!! Sneaky I know!) We went to the pub after, but with the crowds and the autograph duties that the lads had willingly carried out, they thought best to shoot off quickly.

Gary also introduced me to Vaughan Toulouse, who was the singer with Department S. I went to see them a bunch of times, and they were really good live. They had a big hit with the anthemic "Is Vic There?", but never really made it after that. One gig of theirs that Gary gave me tickets to see had a support band featuring the sister of his ex-girlfriend. This was the debut gig of Bananarama , and I saw them! They sang three songs, to instrumental backing tracks, and they were OK! Another time, I went to see Dept S when they supported The Jam at a live BBC radio recording in Golders Green; the bad news was that the guitarist broke a string during the second song, broke a string on his spare guitar when they tried again and after that it just descended into chaos. They only had fifteen minutes to make it, live on radio, and blew it completely.

Another person that Gary introduced me too was the owner of a shop just around the corner from the NME offices. He too was just breaking into the music biz... I'd been over at the editorial offices working, and had to get back to the South Bank; Gary was off somewhere too (Parker Street I think) and asked if he could cadge a lift in my expenses paid-for cab. I said yes, but he said he just needed to pop in to see someone around the corner on our way. We walked out of Carnaby Street into Broadwick Street and Gary beckoned me to follow him into a shop. There stood a tall man, with very long hair, wearing (relatively) lots of make up. The shop was busy so we went back out into the street to talk and Gary introduced me to the man - "Pedro45," he said "This is George. George, meet Pedro45". That'd be Boy George then! And he was a complete gentleman! (A girl - Karla - back at the advert offices was madly badly in love with George O'Dowd at that time and when I told her I'd just met him she couldn't stop "touching" herself there and then - absolute truth!) At this time, he had released White Boy, his first single, but it was a couple of weeks before Do You Really Want To Hurt Me came out and the fame that went with it.

By now, Gary was on his way out of NME; I think he worked for a PR company initially once he left. He also picked up work on one of the Saturday morning teenager TV shows that replaced TISWAS. His motor-mouth style suited well but he didn't enjoy it much, and he got sacked for allowing his mate Vaughan from Dept S to say "Bollocks" on live TV (Gary - "What do you think of the show Vaughan?" "It's Bollocks Gary!").

Subsequently, he has made a good name and healthy career out of radio, and is currently at BBC Radio London 94.9 FM.

Nick Kent

I never liked him, and I didn't really ever have anything to do with Mr Kent - he wrote, didn't come along to the printers, so we had little contact. He always wore his leathers - jacket and trousers, whatever the weather, and looked awful much of the time with an omnipresent fag in his hand.

I only include him because he is the only person in my whole life that I have crossed the road to avoid! I was walking down Stamford Street one afternoon and saw him coming toward me; I didn't even want to acknowledge him, so I crossed the road, carried on walking until I was passed him, then crossed back...

David Swift

One guy that worked in the art room at NME for a few months was a tall Kiwi called Dave Swift. He is most famous for being the drummer with Razorcuts, a decent but short-lived band who had a minor hit single with Storyteller.

Dave tried hard at everything, but couldn't quite reach any summit he aimed for. He told us he could play football, and as we were in a five-a-side music business league during 1984/5 we got him along to play. The bad news was he turned up with no trainers, the match was on concrete and he couldn't turn or stop when he ran in his leather day shoes. He gave away a penalty in his first match for running into the goalies area (not allowed in 5-a-side) so was subbed at half time; we scraped a draw I think. He didn't play for us again and left NME soon afterwards.

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