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| Gotham City |
In 1966 some of my friends and I formed a beat group (later, beat groups
came to be referred to as ' 'bands" but not 'til the late Sixties); we were
based at Boston Grammar School and even practised in the newly built
Sixth Form Common Room. We had a lot of problems throughout our
one year career in Boston, but I can honestly say, with my hand on my
heart, that there were never any ego clashes (which is unusual in Rock
Bands!) It was such a struggle with our meagre amount of equipment,
learning to play the songs, remembering what came next, we never
found the time to argue with each other! (Aso, transport was a huge
problem i.e. we hadn't got any!)
Everyone in the group was in the school's Sixth Form - myself on bass
guitar, Dave Wortley on vocals (waiting to go to University, and a very
good footballer), Dave "Hank" Hancock on rhythm guitar (who'd
transferred from Kitwood Boys' secondary modern; not quite as good
as "Hank" in The Shadows!); Nick Flynn on lead guitar (the son of highly
respected local bobby - Sergeant Flynn) and Randall "Raz" Boulton on
drums (one of the younger members of the group, very good at Art).
When Dave Wortley eventually left the group (taking his P.A. system
with him) he was replaced by Nigel "Nij" Wilkinson, but, in fact, Nij only
ever rehearsed with us: the group broke up before we ever had a chance
to do a gig with him, but he plays a central part in the story I am about to
relate.
One of the problems we had was with the Boston Mods, who were quite
a large, aggressive local teenage cult group. Very few of them were
grammar school boys (there were one or two), very few of them were
social friends Of ours; the result was that they gradually took on the
ambition of always being there to cause havoc at the gigs of "Gotham
City" (though, luckily they never actually damaged anything - or
anyone!)
The name of our group was always a source of disappointment for me. I
had had no say whatever in the choosing of it, I would have preferred
something more romantic, heroic or fashionably psychedelic. Yet
strangely, though, I did not feel offended nor did I complain: the
overriding factor for me was that I was in a beat group: But I always
preferred the "fans" to refer to us by our abridged nickname "The
Gothams", which to me sounded less corny and more like the name of a
band. As I recall "Gotham City" was chosen by three of the band - Nick,
Dave and Hank; they said that we should cash in on the then popular TV
series about Batman and Robin, and I was just happy to be in a band.
They could have called us ' 'The Cosmic Pods" as far as I was concerned;
but I did feel a little disappointed: I 've always been very name conscious
and my father allowed me to name all of his racing greyhounds at the
various tracks; of course at that time Boston had a track.
The lads came up to me at school one fateful afternoon (l can see it now)
and proudly gave me a yellow Batman sticker the size of a penny piece
(old money) and told me where to stick it (on my second-hand red
Hofner bass guitar). This I duly did, without uttering a singe word of
protest, obedient to the last detail.
One of the most memorable clashes with the Boston Mods took place in
the upstairs ballroom of Boston's White Hart Hotel near the town
bridge. (l believe it was part of a suite of rooms known as the Louise
Rooms). We were second on the bill yet again! Top of the bill were The
Foundation (not to be confused with Clem Clempson's pop-soul band,
The Foundations). Their drummer was Johnnie Eagle, member of a
family who've been running a fish and chip restaurant in Boston for
many years, lead guitarist was well known men's hairdresser, Malc
Fletcher; as for the rest of the group, I'd be guessing but Dave
Greenhough (brother of Steve) may have been on rhythm guitar. Well it
was nearly fifty years ago.
As you go in, they set up in the right side of the hall, we set up at the
bottom end, with our paltry set of equipment, and when they came in,
the Boston Mods established themselves on the left hand side of the
hall, well within barracking distance of "Gotham City!" We reluctantly
played one or two soul numbers only because all the other groups kept
telling us this was what Boston audiences wanted - "Land of a Thousand
Dances", "In the Midnight Hour", "Willy Nilly" and so on. But when we
launched into Sam and Dave's "You don't know her like I know" two of
us were in one key and two of us were in another, only Raz, the
drummer, knew what he was doing. Of course this was grist to the mill
for the Boston Mods, who began laughing out loudly and uproariously.
They had enough musical ear to know that we'd slipped up. Full of
heroic anger, I strode manfully towards them, overcoming my natural
angst on the way. When I got there, through all the fog of arrogant
smoking that was going on, could see the look in their eyes, above their
smirks , the pupils were extremely dilated, (there was a big pep pill
scene in Boston at the time and according to what I had heard, the Mods
were well into it).
Remembering the time-honoured saying, something about "lives to
fight another day", I swiftly did an about turn and returned to the
relative asylum of "Gotham City", putting on my guitar strap and
electric bass once again, ready for action; after all I could hardly rely on
Batman and Robin flying through the White Hart windows on their way
to my assistance but there was more chance of finding them in the
precincts of their own city. Nick wouldn't be much use to me with his
Buddy Holly spectacles (the Mods would have happily crunched them
underfoot), although the fact that his dad was a local bobby might be of
some use as a deterrent, but the Mods didn't come after me (I'd scared
them). We struck up again, and this time we all agreed to play in the
same key; an ironic cheer went up from the contingent of Boston Mods
of whom several were quite musically literate and played in groups.
Another incident with them took place at Blenkin Memorial Hall, at the
back of Boston Stump Church, again, two groups were playing and we
were the support act; the main group was The Limits with two lead
guitarists John Booth and Steve Greenhough. But before we went on,
Dave "Hank" Hancock had told me that, while I was away from our
changing room, the Mods had come into the room and told whatever
Gothams were there that they would smash up all our equipment if we
went on stage tonight (not a five minute job anyway!) Obviously they
daren't talk like that if I'd been there after my outrageous acts of
heroism at the White Hart hotel dance! Anyway we went on stage
before the top of the bill, The Limits, and nothing happened with regard
to the Mods' threat. It had just been talk.
The Limits yet again proved to us that we weren't playing any numbers
that people could dance to. When we played, customers stood and
watched; as soon as The Limits struck up everyone started dancing! It
made us look as if we weren't doing our job; but Dave Wortley, our
vocalist at the time was the only one in the group who liked that sort of
music; I, for example, was into "psychedelic pop" - The Jimi Hendrix
Experience, The Pink Floyd, some of the American West Coast groups
like Jefferson Airplane. Sometimes the group let me sneak a number I
liked into our repertoire such as "Over Under Sideways Down" by the
Yardbirds; this song had some very meaningful lyrics to which I could
easily relate, plus a great psychedelic lead guitar solo halfway through
which, I believe, was played by the now legendary Jeff Beck.
One day I was in Linguards record shop in Wide Bargate (the only record
shop in Boston at the time that sold musical instruments and amplifiers
as well; there was Allens' record shop across the way, but they sold
tellies, not musical instruments!); I was flicking through the box of 45
rpm record singles situated near the shop's front door. These were new,
but had often been reduced because their flimsy paper covers had been badly torn or, in some cases, they no longer had one! On this occasion I
had a real "find" in there - a reduced single by the much respected
American West Coast psychedelic group simply called "Love" and led by
another now legendary rock icon, Arthur Lee, who died not very long
ago. I'd read about them in the pop music weekly "Melody Maker" but
never actually heard them; even though I was hard up, I decided to
invest, even so; what a buy it was! I got home with it, put it on the
turntable for the first time. Immediately I loved it! Couldn't believe how
exciting it was to my 18 year old's crazy mixed up mind and spirit! Quite
simply it was me all over: psychedelic pop feel, a pounding racy beat,
Bob Dylan style surreal, at times poetic, lyrics - I hadn't heard anything
so exciting for yonks! I decided right there and then it had to be "snuck"
into the Gotham City repertoire. And so, Nick Flynn was the first choice
to pass it on to, because Nick had the "ear" to work everything out just
by listening to the record i.e. we didn't have to buy the sheet music.
Let me explain that: the way we worked in those days was that Nick
took a record and, by listening to it repeatedly, he could then tell me
what the bass lines were and Hank, the rhythm guitarist, the chord
sequences. The singer would then have the record and copy all the lyrics
down (if he could hear them:); then, finally, Razz the drummer would
just have the record to listen to, in order to get the feel of it. He might
copy the drumming, he might not - it was up to him, but lending him the
record for a few days familiarised him with it - I think on this occasion,
actually, if memory serves me well, he did copy the drumming.
I had managed to sneak "7 and 7 is" into the repertoire and we were
going to try it at the next rehearsal, which would be upstairs in The
Music Room Of The Indian Queen pub in Dolphin Lane (now called "The
Four Kings and the Indian Queen"). This venue had become our regular
practice place now; we had left the Sixth Form Common Room where
we were restricted to always having to practise straight after school.
The reason for this was we had to class ourselves as a school
club/society in order to get use of the room. Thus Boston Grammar
School Jazz and Blues Society was born: It was the only club at the
school that didn't have any members! But we were men now, we must
be, we were rehearsing in a local pub!
And so we arrived at that evening when we first tried out "7 and 7 is" by
the American West Coast group, Love. Everyone was present (Dave
Wortley had left) and a new vocalist from the school Nij Wilkinson. I
was on bass, Nick on lead guitar, Hank on rhythm guitar, Razz on drums,
to begin with there were no supporters present: we were expecting
two later on, to listen to us; Keith "Lurch" Baker and Roger Beeston,
both from the Grammar School. We zinged it straightaway! Never
sounding better in the entire history of the group; the original record
was rather short, so we had arranged the number to last four minutes. I
looked across at the other members of the group as we played; we all
just smiled at each other as if to say, "Good, ain't it!" This was the first
time there had ever been any genuine empathy between the various
members of the group; we had just needed letting off the leash: Raz, in
particular, excelled himself on drums, almost getting carried away by
the fast train-like style of the beat, I was stalking around the small stage,
heroically dipping and craning my neck in real rock style. Nick almost
took his glasses off! The new vocals sounded great. This was how life
should feel being in a youthful rock band, and it proved to me something
that I (and the Boston Mods) had never suspected: that when we had
the right material, we were brilliant!
Suddenly the Music Room door was flung open and in walked Roger
Beeston and "Lurch" Baker, grinning from ear to ear. "That was
incredible," they enthused "we've been standing outside in Dolphin
Lane listening to it." Both Keith and Roger were, like us, Sixth Formers,
but Roger had a car and had passed his test, so that came in very handy for moving the equipment to a gig when my dad wasn't available.
"Absolutely marvellous," they continued, "it sounded great outside."
The next one in was the pub landlord: "What happened?" he said,
"you're sounding professional!" All of this fulsome praise was brought
to us by the song "7 and 7 is". Well they say that seven is a lucky number,
don't they!
Since 1966, I've always carried that blissful teenage scene with me; in
fact, the song is still one of my all time favourite numbers. Of course the
fact that I was the one who discovered it in Linguards' music shop made
it all the more gratifying. I had experienced two new feelings, the actual
words for which I only came across in later life. First of all, there was
"empathy": the group were now communicating musically with each
other, we were as one, giving to each other that knowing smile, a sense
of truth; secondly there was "fulfilment" - we felt happy, we loved that
song, being in a group now felt more than being a case of meeting girls
at gigs, being well known faces in local teenage social circles. This was a
complete feeling that centred around pure enjoyment of our music at
the time we were playing it - nothing else came into it. Youthful
enthusiasm abounded - for once, youth wasn't being wasted on the
young. If only the Boston Mods had been there to witness our finest
hour!
What happened, later on, to the various "members" of Boston Grammar
School Jazz and Blues Society:-
Nick Flynn, lead guitarist: Nick moved to Nottingham with his parents
and still lives there today, running his own upholstery business. Since
leaving Gotham City, he has played with various professional groups at a
high level. I have seen Nick recently on two occasions at the annual
dinner of the Boston Grammar School Old Boys' Association. He has
now replaced his Buddy Holly spectacles With some designer frames!
and is still lovingly playing guitar.
"Raz" Boulton: In the Sixties, Raz played a Beverley drumkit which at
the time was just about the cheapest drumkit you could buy! and on a
par, quality-wise, with Hank's Antoria electric guitar! He was a nice lad
and always did a good job for you. I believe he went to Art College after
leaving the Grammar School, but I haven't seen him since those heady
days.
Myself: After Cotham City, the next group I was in was called "Stake",
another name I disliked intensely and had no say in choosing! That group
was at Hull University, the name being supplied by the lead guitarist
who was into Black Sabbath (a Birmingham group, the same city he
came from) and Hammer horror films! Our greatest claim to fame was
that we were bottom-of-the-bill to John Mayall's Bluesbreakers and "Eire Apparent" (who played the Woodstock Festival) at Hull University
rag dance in 1970. I later went on to work for Mungo Jerry who had a
very well known number one hit with "In The Summertime", and then
became a secondary school teacher of English and Drama.
Dave Wortley: Dave always drove a scooter, it was a Vespa or a
Lambretta, but he was never a Mod! On pillion would be his loyal
girlfriend, Jenny; they were inseparable. Dave was heavily into Soul
Music and Tamla Motown, the two types of music that I personally
disliked intensely! I was more a fuzzy hair, smoke bombs and long guitar
solos man! But I still got on well with him. He was an excellent footballer
and played in the same grammar school eleven for which I was
goalkeeper. He definitely went on to University but I have never seen
him since.
Dave "Hank" Hancock: I Hope Hank's still got his cheapo-cheapo
Antoria electric guitar because I've been told they're now fetching a
fortune as a Sixties curiosity item! He went up to Hull University in 1968,
the year after me. In the meantime, after the break-up of Gotham City,
he had found another niche as a rhythm guitarist with newly formed
local group, The Synix. Like Dave Wortley, Hank also had a scooter, but
had graduated to a car by the time he arrived at Hull University.
Strangely, I don't recall him ever being involved with a rock band in his
years at University.
Nigel "Nij" Wilkinson: Nij was a very smart-looking, tall lad who was still
at Boston Grammar School when I left in March of 1967; I often saw him
up town at lunchtime. It's a pity he only ever rehearsed with the group
and didn't do any actual gigs, as he was a very promising vocalist and
seemed to take to "7 and 7 is" very readily. To the best of my
recollection, he had neither a scooter nor a motorbike (l had a
motorbike). After I went up to Hull Uni in October '67, I never saw Nij
again, but I did meet a very good school friend of his at a recent Old
Boys' annual dinner (he remembered the group:)
Keith "Lurch" Baker and Roger Beeston: Keith and Roger were
supporters of the band. "Lurch" as we called him, had no transport but
Roger was one of the few Sixth Formers who owned a car! and, of
course, with our paltry amount of equipment, we didn't need a transit
van, a car was perfectly big enough, even for Razz's drumkit: I suppose
you could say Roger was our "road manager" but really he was just a
mate helping out. Apart from Roger, everybody connected with the group was scooter, motorbike, cycle or walk!
