TUBBY HAYES: A MAN IN A HURRY (2015)

In the late 1950s, with Ronnie Scott, Londoner Tubby Hayes led the Jazz Couriers, exciting new British proponents of modern jazz who made their debut at the opening of the Flamingo Club; in the early 60s he was a household name, a regular on television, had his own series, made numerous film appearances, and was untouchable in the music press annual jazz polls. By 1973, drink and drugs and a dodgy ticker had seen him off, dead at the age of 38.

Mark Baxter and Lee Cogswell’s new hour-long film, A Man In A Hurry, tells the story of the short life a man who “burned the candle at both ends… then started on the middle”. More than that, the documentary seeks to place Hayes alongside the greats of jazz – Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Miles Davis and company.

Edward Brian “Tubby” Hayes was prodigiously talented, receiving his first tenor sax at 12 years old, he formed his first band at 14 and was a professional jazz musician at 15; his headmaster making an exception to the school’s dress code by allowing him to wear a “Boston haircut”, something of a requirement to conduct his night time trade. He mastered the tenor, flute (allegedly playing it at gigs days after first picking it up) and vibraphone and took his talent to America to prove his worth amongst the “big boys”.

British jazz then, as now, was often derided as the parochial poor relation to the America version. To quote Benny Green’s liner notes from the 1961 Tubbs, “Its only conceivable handicap from a sales point of view that I can think of is the fact it was recorded within hailing distance of Marble Arch”. Such a snobbish attitude did a disservice to Hayes who, we hear, was at least anyone’s equal, irrespective of nationality or location. 

Martin Freeman provides the narration and contributing talking heads describe Tubby’s life in a simple yet snappy and engaging way, intercut with snippets of music and archive footage. The film is made in such a way, and Tubby's life was interesting enough, that even if one doesn't care much for jazz, it's an engrossing story. The most enlightening contributions come from Hayes biographer and saxophonist Simon Spillett and people (including his son) who knew and witnessed Tubby in action. Poet Michael Horowitz speaks, as one would expect, with wonderful eruditeness.

DJ Patrick Forge recounts how he first heard Tubby on the Jazz Club series of LPs in the mid-80s, on the track “A Pint Of Bitter”, and how the title reinforced, in his mind, the unfortunate perception of British jazz being the preserve of middle-aged men with beards dressed in corduroy drinking real ale out of pint jugs (hang on a mo, that’s me now, shit, what happened?) rather than the sharp dressed hipsters depicted on Blue Note sleeves. “A Pint Of Bitter” by Tubby Hayes; just doesn’t sound cool does it? Perhaps to counter this, broadcaster Robert Elms and Acid Jazz’s Eddie Piller attempt to place Hayes in a “Mod” context. I’m not entirely convinced this section was necessary - is it not enough for Tubby to be the greatest jazz musician this country has produced but has to be a founding Modfather as well? – but knowing the Mod background of the film makers and many contributors it’s understandable.

I’ve bought a few Tubby Hayes LPs over the years (and have had a lifetime of Monkey Snr speaking of him with deep reverence) but two viewings of A Man In Hurry has given me a greater appreciation of the man and a determination to hear more of his music. What more could one ask of a film? 

For more info see Tubby Hayes: A Man In A Hurry. 

MONKEY'S SUNDAY SWING #2: WE ARE THE MODS, WE ARE THE MODS...

The M word has featured heavily during the last ten days or so, here's a look back.

I can’t recall the last time I saw a club advertised as a mod club and The Sidewinder in Islington doesn't, but that’s what it is.  Tucked away in a fabulous club room within the Wenlock and Essex, Essex Road, N1 on the first Thursday of each month it manages to be a relaxed affair yet still entice people on to the illuminated dancefloor with its soul, jazz and R&B soundtrack.  The highlight for me there this week was chatting to Martin Fuggles, who was the DJ at the Ricky Tick Club in Windsor during the mid-60s.  There were a number of Ricky Tick clubs but the Windsor one, in a mansion by the river, is regarded as the main one, and the one replicated in the film Blow Up when The Yardbirds tore it up.  Martin would DJ on two turntables built inside a gold painted piano, a playlist dominated by the Motown, Atlantic and Stax releases he’d purchase each week from a stall in Slough. Martin said he’d been reintroduced to the mod scene a couple of years ago and was now enjoying trying to catch up on what he’d missed and seeing how things had developed in his absence.  He still has all his old records but had lost interest in music once Pink Floyd had come along, saying if that was the future of music he wanted no part of it.  We chatted about what sounds were popular at the time and I asked him about The Impressions, to which he pulled a great OH MY GOD, THE IMPRESSIONS sex face.  This was exactly the reaction I’d hoped for.  He often began his sets with “It’s Alright” and would buy half a dozen extra copies of their records to sell down the Ricky Tick.  He also said that their gig at the Barbican last year was the second best gig he’d ever been to (one behind Buddy Holly and the Crickets).  The group are playing at the Jazz Café in London next month and if at all possible you must go.  To read me becoming all emotional about the Barbican night click here.  Naturally I tried digging for info about The Action but although he knew they’d played the club he couldn’t remember anything in particular about them.  Damn.  Martin certainly considered himself a mod back, complete with scooter, but soon learnt “you needed four wheels if you wanted to pull the better birds”, and carry your records of course.  It was fascinating chatting with him and hopefully he’ll be on at Sidewinder in the future.  His Ricky Tick site has more news and more posters like the one shown above.  The next Sidewinder is on Thursday 5th July.        

The launch party at the Fred Perry shop in Covent Garden for The A-Z of Mod book by Paolo Hewitt and Mark Baxter was a swinging affair with some well-known scene faces in attendance and even Phil Daniels popping by.  Luckily for him by the time I’d had enough to drink to recite chunks of Quadrophenia  – because he would have loved that – he’d disappeared.   It wouldn’t be right to review the book in detail as it was a birthday present for Mrs Monkey by Monkey Snr so try the one in The Guardian and work it out for yourself.  There’s a picture of Mrs Monkey and her sister in the book adopting their usual Kray twins stance - looking like they’d slash your throat with their haircuts if you stood too close. On the off-chance they read this I should add they aren't quite as menacing in real life. 

Also in Mrs M’s birthday haul was The Treasures of The Who by Chris Welch, a hardback, boxed book containing memorabilia inserted into the pages.  There are some great reproductions of Marquee contracts, posters, flyers (cool one from the Goldhawk “Beat” Club where The Who played Good Friday 1965 and The Boys played on Saturday), an early letter to fan from Roger Daltrey and a postcard from Keith Moon.  It sells for twenty five quid but was a lot cheaper in Fopp or a bit cheaper from that on-line retail place.  

On the subject of Keith Moon, keep your eyes open for a summer publication of Full Moon by Dougal Butler.  Original published in 1981 by Moonie’s personal assistant, with Chris Tengrove and Peter Lawrence, it's utterly hilarious in places and terribly sad in others.  I remember tears of laughter streaming down my face when I first read it when published as Moon The Loon.  Find out more at Full Moon The Book.

THE MUMPER by MARK BAXTER and PAOLO HEWITT

The Mumper was first published in 2007 and is a mainly autobiographical tale by Mark “Bax” Baxter, now taken up by a major publisher to tie-in with a new film.

It tells of Bax and his six mates, whose ages span fifty years, that meet every Sunday in a South London boozer. They rip the piss out of each other, bemoan Millwall’s latest result, talk nonsense, and enjoy each other’s company. Whatever else goes on in their lives, it's put to one side when the notes are chucked in the whip when Sunday comes. Bax (in real life) comes from solid mod stock, who I’ve sometimes said hello as he busies himself in the back room of my tailor George Dyer (Threadneedleman, 187A Walworth Road, SE17 for all your bespoke needs). Although there are the occasional references to mod (and George) they aren’t at the heart of the story.

The story isn’t far off an episode of Only Fools and Horses, or anything else from John Sullivan, with its comic yet loving portrayal of everyday folk, especially when a stranger enters the pub trying to offload a racehorse, which the group buy, name The Mumper, and dress in Millwall colours. “This time next year Rodney…” The story might (or might not) be a predictable one but the fate of The Mumper is secondary to the friendship and bonds that tie these seemingly disparate bunch of blokes.

Away from the pub Bax prints the daily newspapers on Fleet Street, an occupation shared by my own Granpop (who was no doubt one of the “Dad’s Army” referred to). I found those sections – set against the ugly mid-80s trade union dispute with Rupert Murdoch and the eventual sacking of 6000 workers – particularly interesting and dealt with commendably even-handedly.

The Mumper has now been made in to a film, Outside Bet, starring Bob Hoskins, and is released in cinemas on 27 April. The book is a light easy read (although the parts about the father did choke me) and I imagine the film will be a pleasant, quintessentially British affair worth a look (not least because Rita Tushingham and Dudley Sutton make appearances and Paul Weller wrote the title song). The makers are bound to take a few liberties with the story though. For a start, there’s no love interest in The Mumper; there are next to no women at all apart from Bax’s mum, unless you count barmaids. The book is very much a tale of male friendship and the way blokes deal with both happiness and sadness, and when they’ve the balls, how they follow their instincts. I liked it a lot. Go on The Mumper my son!

The Mumper by Mark Baxter and Paolo Hewitt is published by Orion, priced £7.99. Outside Bet is released by Universal Pictures UK on 27 April 2012.