AS LONG AS I HAVE YOU by ROGER DALTREY (2018)

It’s difficult to decide the more eyebrow raising claim: Roger Daltrey’s assertion his first solo album in 26 years is a return to when the High Numbers were a soul band playing in church halls or Pete Townshend’s touching tribute this new record shows his old mate at the height of his powers. Mind you, while not quite taking the mantel of the Morrissey of Mod, Daltrey’s recent interviews have suggested rather than dying before he gets old, he’s living up to the theory people become more right-wing as it becomes harder for them to get around, so let’s stick to his less controversial outpourings.

There is a definite soul flavour in As Long As I Have You but next to nothing young mods would’ve heard down the Goldhawk Road Social Club and the expensive sounding production by Dave Eringa (of long-term Manics knob twiddling fame) is a far cry from the fumbling of a fledging R&B band. The result however is pleasingly better than a causal jaunt through tired 60s soul songs and we should be grateful 74-year-old Roger hasn’t gone down the Great American Songbook route favoured by so many of his generation.

Tackling the title track, Garnet Mimms’ thumping rhythm and soul classic, came as a surprise when it first received plays on the wireless, dangerously overblown in a Tom Jones manner, but after a couple of listens it settles down and powers along with just the right degree of ferocity to – in the unlikely scenario it was ever heard there - lightly splinter the pews of any cosy local chapel.

Pete Townshend contributes over-dubbed guitar to seven of the eleven tracks but it’s only on ‘How Far’ where he battles Roger for the spotlight, picking and licking like a Who’s Next outtake. A comparison I don’t use casually. ‘Where’s A Man To Go’ is a slower soulful blues and one of a number of songs with a gospel backing. Parliament’s ‘Get On Out The Rain’ is a righteous, marching, Primal Scream style rocker with Mick Talbot (a presence on nearly all tracks) laying down churchy chords as guitars wail and saxes honk and squall. Fantastic stuff and adds an extra something to the original. Whether it’s enough to warrant Roger appending his name to the writing credit, as he’s done, is something I’ll leave to Parliament’s legal department.

‘I’ve Got Your Love’ sways to a sea of lighters in the air before a reading of Nick Cave’s ‘Into Your Arms’. Although not doing anything radical it encroaches firmly into late period Johnny Cash territory and could induce a tear in sensitive listeners. It would be remiss not to mention Roger now has a slight lisp and it’s most noticeable on this track and on quieter moments throughout the album. It would have been a simple job to have cleaned/edited in the production so credit to Daltrey for leaving it untouched and offering honest performance full of raw emotional wisdom.

'You Haven’t Done Nothing’ plods along without the nimbleness of Stevie Wonder’s version and ‘Out of Sight, Out of Mind’ is believable storytelling and a vocal highlight. Joe Tex’s ‘The Love You Save’ and the self-penned ‘Certified Rose’ portray Roger as the old romantic devil, the horns recalling Van Morrison, while the closer, a Daltrey co-write, ‘Always Heading Home’, with piano and cello accompaniment, is another delicate moment like ‘Into My Arms’.

There are at least three different Roger Daltreys at play on this album: the microphone lassoing rock star, sensitive balladeer and tender soul man. He can still do the first well but it’s the second and third which impress most, along with the well-chosen, unobvious material.

Going back to those claims by The Two, although full of PR exaggeration and hugely debatable, perhaps they weren’t as preposterous as first appeared. As Long As I Have You exceeds expectations, should delight fans of The Who, and although the competition isn’t strong (Roger’s Going Back Home with Wilko Johnson the only serious contender), is the most satisfying thing either have done for decades.

THE WHO'S MY GENERATION painted by EDDIE ARGOS (2017)

Eddie Argos sings in the mildly popular punk-beat combo Art Brut. Ed does other stuff too, like writing and painting, which is fortunate as the last Brut album, Brilliant! Tragic!, came out in 2011.

Late last year, Eddie started to accept commissions to paint peoples’ favourite album sleeves. Anything they wanted – even the Stone Roses or REM - he’d do and listen to the album whilst working on it. Once completed, Ed would write his thoughts on the record.

I requested The Who’s 1965 debut My Generation. Not only is it one of my favourite albums but also one of my favourite sleeves. That was in November. Today it arrived and I’m chuffed to bits.

Not only am I delighted with the art, which means there's now an Argos hanging in four rooms of Monkey Mansions, but with Eddie’s response to the album as it – and The Who in general – was something he’d never previously taken an interest in. Here’s what he had to say.

“Wow! What a great album. I’ve never really thought about the lyrics to My Generation before they are punk as fuck, ditto for The Kids Are Alright. I’d just sort of filed The Who away as ‘classic rock’ and not investigated it properly. This is much harder and sexier than I imagined. I’d always seen Daltrey as a pretty boy with no charisma, the only band where the lead singer is the least interesting member, but here he sounds awesome and like someone I’d like to get drunk and hang about with. I never realised that The Who were an awesome punk rock Nuggets style garage band. I feel like an idiot. THIS IS GREAT.

I played it over and over even after I’d finished the painting, I’ve tried really hard but still can’t imagine Roger Daltrey being that cool. So I imagine a totally different person being the front man. Makes it easier.

I can totally see this becoming one of my favourite albums too. Thanks for introducing me to it.

Eddie Argos x”

Find out more at The Eddie Argos Resource. or @EddieArgos on Twitter. And if you've not listened to Art Brut start with their debut Bang Bang Rock & Roll and work through.

CONFESSIONS OF A TEENAGE MOD: FIVE ALBUMS THAT CHANGED MY LIFE

Those fine people at Adaptor Clothing – purveyors of modernist garb from Mikkel Rude, John Smedley, Brutus, Fred Perry, Bass, Baracuta and so forth – have scooted up and asked for five albums that inspired me from the “Mod subculture”. Never one to turn down an opportunity to chat about records, Mods and myself, I thought it’d make any interesting post, so let’s see.

All five on the list were acquired during the formative stages of my Mod conversion, a long time ago, during the early to mid-80s, and all provided a bedrock which sustains to this day. Back then Mod adhered to a very strict set of rules. Things were or weren’t Mod and no one had much difficulty with it. It felt a unified scene; there was a kinship with others, as you shared the same values and passions. It was a wonderfully exciting time. Non-Mods hated us and it only added to our sense of righteousness and air of superiority.

Mod today is wide open. There are a multitude of factions; people have individual takes on what it means and it’s been assimilated into the mainstream. It is now possible to pick and mix elements and different generations put their own spin on it: it stretches from the late 50s/early 60s modern jazz of John Coltrane or Tubby Hayes to current young guitar band The Spitfires and talented individuals like Paul Orwell. There are parts I feel no connection with but at the same time it’s been at the core of nearly everything I’ve enjoyed over the years. It’s led to the best nights out, with the best dressed people, listening to the best music, and it still steers into new areas of discovery. All of that can be traced back to the influence of these five albums, listed in the order I encountered them.

THE WHO - MY GENERATION

It’s testament to Townshend’s understanding of his young Mod audience that Mods continue to love The Who even long after the band moved from participants to occasional observers in the scene. Their debut LP is a record full of macho swagger, feisty attitude and flickers of vulnerability.

I’ll sheepishly admit to miming with a tennis racket in my bedroom mirror to ‘It’s Not True’, ‘The Kids Are Alright’ and ‘La-La-La-La-Lies’ (I skipped most of the bluesy tracks). They made me want to be in a band. Many years later when I was, playing my second ever gig, I attempted to do-a-Townshend during the final song in the set. After ramming my cheap guitar into the amp I tried smashing it on the stage. What I hadn’t considered was the stage was built of plastic beer crates and when I axed it to the floor it immediately bounced up, almost whacking me in the face. It didn’t look good, the guitar survived unscathed and I never tried it again.

The sleeve perfectly fits the record: the military-style stencilling; David Wedgbury’s photograph showing them stood next to highly inflammable propane drums; hair dyed orange and black; the clothes; jackets made of union jacks draped over their shoulder; Keith Moon with the face of an innocent cherub. They’re extraordinary looking geezers, especially Roger Daltrey who fixes the camera with a mix of frown and smirk. He’s telling the onlooker to f-f-f-f-off. What teenager couldn’t relate to that? I was lucky enough to get the album signed by Daltrey and he couldn’t have been friendlier or more accommodating. “You guys look great,” he kept saying to my group of friends.  It meant the world to us. We tried to approach Pete Townshend but he screamed “Argh, Mods!” and darted down the stairs. Even that felt like a compliment.

GEORGIE FAME – 20 BEAT CLASSICS

If you’re going to “do Mod” you need to assume a position of cool. Not everyone can do it. Some try hard and if you have to try hard you’re not cool; it’s one of life’s unfortunate truths. Coolness radiates from Georgie Fame. Whereas The Who turned up the volume, thrashed instruments, demanded attention, Georgie sat behind his Hammond – which he made the Mod instrument - and with the minimum of fuss served up a selection of soul, jazz, bluebeat and threw in a few pop touches. This was a Mod diet and this compilation served as an invaluable entry into those worlds. And look at the photograph here. Poised to light his fag, sleeves rolled up and about to get to work. Georgie means business. I love the look: the way his hair is cut in a French Crop and he’s wearing a simple pink button-down. It’s understated, there’s no need to overdo anything. Georgie Fame had exquisite taste in clothes and in the music he adopted. If you want a neat definition of Mod, there’s one right there.

VARIOUS ARTISTS – MOTOWN CHARTBUSTERS VOL. 3

Imagine a world without Motown. Makes me shudder. With a $600 family loan Gordy built his empire of labels which continue to fascinate and inspire. Even now previously unreleased gems surface and that’s in addition to absorbing all the rarities hidden in the dark recesses of Hitsville’s vast series of releases. Someone at school also gave me Tamla Motown Presents 20 Mod Classics which was equally important – it’s probably a better LP  - but Motown Chartbusters Vol. 3 was one of only a few records I managed to “borrow” from my parents and being an original 60s copy felt more authentic and treasured. It has this amazing silver and glittery sleeve, as if Tamla Motown knew what a special record it was so threw extra money at it. It’s full of classics: ‘Roadrunner’, ‘I Heard it Through The Grapevine’, ‘Stop Her On Sight’, ‘Get Ready’ etc. Songs built to last. Who can ever tire of listening to Smokey Robinson and the Miracles’ ‘The Tracks of My Tears’? For all the incredible records and songs I’ve unearthed in a never ending quest to discover something new and exciting, sometimes the very best are right there in plain sight. It’ll be one hell of day I find anything to top ‘This Old Heart Of Mine’.

VARIOUS ARTISTS – ON THE SOUL SIDE

One of the earliest Kent compilations and the first one I bought. Soon after, in the school holidays, I attended my first all-nighter, at the 100 Club. It is incredible those all-nighters are still running and although I’m no longer a regular I still dip in and out. Ady Croasdell, for his efforts with Kent and the 100 Club all-nighters, isn’t a musician but his influence on me – and many, many others - has been immeasurable. To Ady, it’s always been about the artists, not the DJs, a point too frequently forgotten with the who-played-what-where-first debates. It’s interesting to note there are no references to “Northern Soul” on this LP – it’s all “60’s Soul”. To me, 60’s Soul is pure Mod and Northern Soul is something else. There’s plenty of overlap of course between scenes and sounds but my mind’s eye associates the former with sharp dressers doing The Block and the later conjures visions of vest wearers performing handstands. That aside, soul music – as a whole, in all its forms – is a satisfyingly deep well. Over time it becomes more difficult finding truly exceptional songs but that increases the joy when it happens. Don’t stick with the familiar: keep on pushing.     

THE ACTION – THE ULTIMATE ACTION

The most played LP in my collection by the longest piece of tailor’s chalk. When I bought this from The Merc off Carnaby Street in the mid-80s little did I know how it would remain a constant in my life. The Action are my favourite band of all time. Back then there was a great mystery about them, which undoubtedly added to their appeal. All the information the young kids of my generation had were the photos on the cover and inner sleeve and a few paragraphs from Paul Weller to accompany The Action’s small output. Since then I’ve watched with delight every time a new piece of information, a new photograph, even previously unheard recordings have been made available. I’ve had the honour of having articles published about them, interviewed them, seen them reform and play live, been invited in to some of their homes, written liner notes for Reggie King releases on Circle Records, and with deep sadness attended Reggie’s funeral where hearing ‘Since I Lost My Baby’ in a tiny chapel provided a profoundly moving and privileged experience. I remain in awe of The Action: they had style, class, looks and talent in abundance. My life has been enriched beyond words thanks to the day Jimmy at The Merc passed me this record.

What albums influenced your initiation in to the world of Mod?

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LAMBERT & STAMP (2015)

The Who’s early managers, who guided them from cult Mod status to all-conquering rock superstars, were an unlikely pairing. Yet Kit Lambert, upper class son of classical composer and conductor Constant Lambert, and Chris Stamp, working class son of a stoker on the boats from Plaistow, made a complimentary and formidable team.  

Working in the lower reaches of the film industry they shared a passion to make their own movie and settled upon finding a new pop group to centre their idea. When Lambert passed a row of scooters outside the Railway Tavern, popped his head in and witnessed both the High Numbers and their audience, he’d found what they were after. As Chris Stamp explains in James D. Cooper’s directorial debut documentary, Lambert and Stamp, they didn’t know what they wanted, more what they didn’t want, and misfits Townshend, Daltrey, Moon and Entwistle defied the accepted conventions of the time in their look, sound and attitude. It began as a perfect marriage.

They made a terrific partnership with the band, now reverting back to their previous Who moniker, willing to join in with any excitable plan their new backers concocted, even if their original film idea gently faded into the background as they became managers instead. Kit Lambert's encouraging and influencing helped bolster Pete Townshend's creative song writing in a way his bandmates couldn't and was fundamental to The Who's development. The story is told through interviews with Pete Townshend, Roger Daltrey, Richard Barnes, Heather Daltrey, Terence Stamp, Robert Fearnley-Whittingstall, Irish Jack etc, archive footage and, best of all, Chris Stamp, whose good looks, enthusiasm, cocky charm and charisma shine through; he could've sold anything to anyone.  

What also is evident is how exciting and fearless they all were in the 60s. If they had an idea they’d go for it. Fancy making a film; managing a pop group; signing Jimi Hendrix to a record label they’d only just thought of; making a rock opera? Yeah, come on, let’s go. Money was no object, insofar as they didn’t have any and racked up huge debts with little regard to any future consequences. Everything was lived for in the moment. The turning point came five years into their relationship and the enormous success of Tommy and then finally having more money than even they could spend.

Things fell apart in the 70s and relationships broke down, exacerbated by Kit’s drinking and drug habit; the appearance of Bill Curbishley managing affairs in a more money oriented manner; and the band giving Tommy to Ken Russell rather than allowing Lambert and Stamp to finally make the film they’d always dreamed of. Keith Moon in this period comes out with a lot of credit as he refused to sign any papers to terminate the band’s relationship with Kit and Chris, mindful of what they'd achieved together. Days after Keith died the job was done with brutal efficiency.

One quibble in the film is the failure to mention Peter Meaden and his influence shaping the Who. When Lambert clapped eyes on them, peering through the darkness of a Harrow and Wealdstone pub packed with Mods on a Tuesday evenning, it was in part due to Meaden creating the band in his own image and deserves acknowledgement for gifting the raw product to Lambert and Stamp who nurtured it into something far wider reaching. Also, the circumstances of Lambert's death in 1981 are brushed over. Chris Stamp died from cancer in 2012. Those things aside, it’s a wonderful film for fans of The Who, the 60s, and dreamers and schemers everywhere.  

Lambert & Stamp is released in UK cinemas on 15 May 2015.

THE WHO HITS 50 at the O2 ARENA, LONDON

The buzz of riding a Lambretta is one of life’s great pleasures. It doesn’t matter where it is but I always get an extra kick when cruising through the streets of Shepherd’s Bush and specifically along the Goldhawk Road. In my little semi-fantasy world it is still the mid-1960s, this is the heart of Mod territory, and local band The Who are playing later for the umpteenth time at the Goldhawk Social Club. Although The Who are known as a Shepherd’s Bush band, Roger Daltrey was the only one who genuinely lived there. In The Who documentary, Amazing Journey, Pete Townshend called him “the king of the neighbourhood”.

This scruffy stretch of the capital has, as far as I can tell, remained- until now - largely unchanged. Cooke’s Pie and Mash Shop – the one in Quadrophenia - has clung on since 1934; the interior of Zippy Café a couple of doors down is every inch an abandoned Wimpy bar; Goldhawk Road tube station remains little more than a rickety shack; and, best of all, the Goldhawk Social Club has only tweaked its name slightly to the Shepherd’s Bush Club and now displays a blue Heritage Foundation plaque honouring The Who. With the likes of Cooke’s now sold to developers of Shepherd’s Bush market these are the last knockings of the area as it currently stands.

I rode past the Goldhawk again this weekend, exactly fifty years from when The Who walked through the hanging plastic drapes in the club to play a gig on Saturday 20^th March 1965 after hot-footing it from attending the opening show of the Tamla Motown Revue at the Finsbury Park Astoria. I know, what a night, lucky bleeders. I wasn’t there rabbiting amongst the West London Mods from the Bush, Acton, Notting Hill, West Drayton, Paddington and so on but I did, honestly, see The Who yesterday.

The O2 Arena in Greenwich is less than fifteen miles from the Goldhawk but they could be on different planets and as gig experiences go they couldn’t be much more different. No chance of bumping into Pete Townshend having a piss here in this soulless corporate "village". The O2 is a 20,000 capacity venue and not one of those people, as far as I could tell, was blocked on amphetamines.  Prescription drugs, now that’s different. When folk scuffled to the loo, they rattled. Unlike Keith Moon and John Entwistle, not everyone died before they got old I’m pleased to say.

Of course, I wouldn’t usually dream of attending one of these huge cavernous monstrosities, but then again I can probably only count on my thumbs the bands I like who’d be able to fill somewhere like this, The Who being one. This was part of their The Who Hits 50 tour; supposedly their last extended jaunt around the globe. They’ve said this before so I won’t hold them to it. Half a century gone and it’s still too early to say farewell.

For over two hours straight Roger Daltrey, Pete Townshend and some other blokes put on hugely enjoyable show. Roger and Pete were in a relaxed mood; jovial and offered plenty of expletive-ridden between-song banter creating an almost intimate atmosphere despite the grand scale. Roger played the affable, one-of-the-lads role and Pete switched from serious artist to money-accumulating rock star. When Roger thanked everyone for coming, “It woulda been really boring without ya”, Pete quips back “And we’d be a lot poorer”. He also said we’d paid three thousand pound a ticket, which wasn’t too far off.

They earned their dough though, playing a mostly predictable set with a few surprises chucked in. Pete mentions it’s supposed to be a hits show. “All four of them,” he says, “plus the three from CSI, and two rock operas”. That “I Can See For Miles” wasn’t a huge hit - “it’s a great song” - obviously still rankles and it’s plain to hear way. Some of the other earlier singles like “I Can’t Explain” and “Substitute”, as much as they made brilliant records, sounded slightly plodding in comparison the more complex later material.

“Love Reign O’er Me” was emotional; the mini-Tommy brilliant, still to my mind The Who’s pinnacle; the double whammy of “Baba O’Riley” and “Won’t Get Fooled Again” is as good as big venue music gets. “Slip Kid” was unexpected; as was “So Sad About Us”; and “A Quick One, Whilst He’s Away” a welcome knee-trembler.

They’ve got to pace themselves these days so Roger’s microphone twirling was kept to minimum and Pete’s feet didn’t leave the floor although there was plenty of windmill action. Roger, bless him, couldn’t always hit the notes (it’s an unforgiving occupation being a lead singer in a shouty rock band; no one’s gonna notice a few bum chords or missed timings elsewhere) and he mentions the set list is a challenge emotionally as well as having to remember all Townshend’s lyrics. “Why couldn’t you write some easier songs?” he asks Pete. “Because I’m an intellectual,” came the reply, “you fucking cunt.”

The staging behind the band was superb. I always roll my eyes when people start talking about what a band’s backdrop and graphics and lighting was like – so bloody what? – but in this environment draping a union jack over a Marshall stack ain’t really gonna cut it, so hat’s off: these were a stylish and imaginative series of animations that complimented the songs. Some were very fancy and expensive looking yet the funniest was the simplest.  After Townshend gave his account of writing “Pictures of Lily” about wanking to old Lily Langtry postcards, the song is performed in front of a giant Keith Moon dressed in a wig and black bra. Should also say Zak Starkey’s “vision of ginger” behind the drums didn’t go unnoticed either. A nice touch.

After a closing “Magic Bus”, Roger apologised for a few gremlins throughout the show. For all the high-tech nature he appeared a touch put out he’d been given a B harmonica instead of a B Flat for “Baba O’Riley” and then suffered unwanted feedback with his harp during the last song. “But who gives a shit?” He’s fooling no-one this time. Roger Daltrey loves The Who and is fiercely proud of them. I love them too; they’re the kings of any neighbourhood. 

205 Goldhawk Road, Shepherd's Bush

WILKO JOHNSON and ROGER DALTREY at the SHEPHERD'S BUSH EMPIRE

Issue 38 of Shindig! is out in newsagents today, containing  - amongst many other things - welcome features on Nigel Waymouth, Mary Love and John Sinclair. It also includes my review of Wilko and Daltrey’s gig from last month. Their album, Going Back Home, was released on Monday and sounds exactly as it should.

I don’t know if Wilko Johnson created a bucket list but making a new album with Roger Daltrey for Chess Records would be an audacious dream for most yet for Wilko, he simply got on and did it without any fuss. Tick, job done.

Ahead of release they’re in Shepherd’s Bush showcasing Going Back Home – a collection of new recordings of Dr. Feelgood songs, Wilko solo songs and a Dylan cover - for the first time. Accompanied by Norman Watt-Roy on bass and Dylan Howe on drums, for thirty minutes Wilko juts from side to side, chops at his guitar strings with his open hand and machine-guns his audience, belying the doctor who gave him an expiry date of four months earlier. As engaging as ‘All Right’, ‘Barbed Wire Blues’ and a drawn out ‘Roxette’ are, it’s impossible not to feel the expectation hanging heavy in the air awaiting Daltrey’s appearance.

One street and fifty years from where Daltrey fronted a fiery British R&B band at the Goldhawk Road Social Club led by a uniquely styled song writing guitarist, he’s back doing it again. With the addition of Daltrey, the always welcome sight of Merton Mick Talbot on keys, and Steve Weston blowing a mean blues harp, the sextet breathe new life and power into Wilko’s songs.

It’s an ideal combination, Wilko does what he does best – cutting razor sharp shapes and sounds - and Daltrey, at last, gets to wrap his vocal chords around fresh material. Stripped from the security of The Who, his familiar moves, his microphone twirling, Daltrey is out of his comfort zone but gamely throws himself centre stage, dancing like a slightly awkward fella at a wedding. His voice is still strong and any ragged edges are far better suited here to the blues-based ‘Going Back Home’, ‘Some Kind Of Hero’, ‘Sneaking Suspicion’ and ‘Ice On The Motorway’ than anything the theatrical Townshend may now throw at him.

They make a natural pair, full of down the boozer geezerness and old rogue charm. If Daltrey fluffs some lyrics, then so what? “This is a lot of shit to remember at my age,” he jokes, “you fucking come up here and try to do it”. When Daltrey asks if they can slow down so he can catch his breath he nods towards Wilko and says “Fucking cancer, it speeds him up, gives him energy”.

Whatever gives Wilko energy – determination, bloody-mindedness, luck, the stars – it rubs off all around him, from the band to the squashed, over-capacity crowd. It’s an emotional night but the overriding emotion is joy, as shown in the huge grin worn on Wilko’s face throughout as he looks across his left shoulder to see his bandmate, that bloke from The ‘Oo, belting out his own songs and a pandemonium inducing version of ‘I Can’t Explain’.

An encore gives a second airing to the rip-roaring ‘I Keep It To Myself’ before, without any fuss or sentimentality, a quick wave and dignified exit. Tick, job done.  

THE WHO AND THE MAKING OF "GLITTERING GIRL" (1967)

Here’s a fascinating clip of Pete Townshend’s creative process as he runs through ideas for “Glittering Girl” to Who managers Kit Lambert and Chris Stamp at his Wardour Street flat before rehearsing it with the band at the Saville Theatre in London during February 1967.

Filmed as part of Edmund Wolf’s documentary “Die Jungen Nachtwandler”, it was broadcast on German television in July 1967. Interesting to hear Lambert talk about Townshend heading up a "mysterious department called Jazz and New Sounds" for his new Track record label. 

A version of "Glittering Girl" was recorded at De Lane Lea Studios around this time but didn't see daylight until 1995 when it appeared as one of the previously unreleased tracks on a remastered edition of The Who Sell Out.

Thanks to Long John McNally for flagging this up.

BOY ABOUT TOWN by TONY FLETCHER (2013)

Tony Fletcher is the author of numerous books including the definitive Keith Moon biography Dear Boy and an exhaustive account of The Smiths, A Light That Never Goes Out. In the 1980s he wrote for The Face, was a presenter on Channel 4’s The Tube and his Jamming! magazine sat on the shelves of WH Smiths (described to me the other day as Smash Hits’ cool older brother).  

Yet for many Fletcher is synonymous, even now, with the late 70s fanzine culture that saw the likes of Sniffin’ Glue, Maximum Speed and his own Jamming! give a platform for enthusiastic young kids to write about their music.

Boy About Town is Fletcher’s memoir of that period and whilst his coming of age story is fairly unremarkable in regard to friendships, football matches, school trips, being bullied, forming a band, dabbling with drugs, milking the lizard and a desperate need to lose his cherry, his activities and associations which stemmed from producing his own fanzine are anything but ordinary.

Inspired by Jon Savage’s fanzine article in Sounds in 1977, thirteen year old Fletcher was soon knocking out his own (fanzine, that is) and within a year and six issues it was fast on its way to becoming one of the most celebrated of the era, boasting interviews with upcoming Adam and the Ants, Scritti Politti and Alternative TV next to big names The Jam and, incredibly, Pete Townshend. Soon after, as told in the book, there are memorable encounters with The Damned, The Fall, The Undertones and many others as Fletcher immersed himself the DIY post-punk and, for a brief time, mod scenes.

A central presence in the book is The Jam and particularly Paul Weller. Of course The Jam were well known for their accessibility: allowing fans to watch their sound checks; letting them in the studio; and removing as many barriers between band and fan as possible. Therefore it’s not surprising Weller was more than happy to give an interview to a thirteen young old but what is striking is how Weller didn’t leave it there but followed it up with invites to gigs, supportive letters and an open invitation to drop by the studio whenever they were recording; not once does he come across as patronising or anything but genuinely supportive of Tony’s endeavours. Fletcher doesn’t say it but it’s hard not to think Weller didn’t see something of himself in his young fan’s quiet ambition, determination and entrepreneurial flair. Boy About Town is recommended for plentiful Jam anecdotes and insights alone, including a few details worthy of quiz questions.

How much The Jam were the people’s band (and the band for the most discerning school kids) is best illustrated by the Tony’s discovery “Going Underground” had gone straight in at number one as he was out of school one Tuesday lunchtime. He rushes back to tell his classmates the news before afternoon registration. “A massive roar went up. We found ourselves jumping up and down together, like we all supported the same football team and they’d just won the Cup”.  It’s my favourite moment in the book but a bittersweet memory “And with that, it sank in. They were no longer our band.”

Fletcher was also a big fan of The Who, discovering them via the Quadrophenia and Meaty, Beaty, Big and Bouncy LPs and going to see their massive gig (on his own, aged 12) at Charlton. His brief encounter with Keith Moon later is very sweet and shows a lovely side to Keith, so much so that when Moonie dies Fletcher promised himself that one day he will “put the record straight”. Most of the book is written from the viewpoint his teenage self (the only excuse for using terms “modette” and “punkette”) but on occasion elements of a grown up perceptive creep in. I can’t quite believe all the observations took place whilst growing up, even for an observer as astute as Fletcher.

And it’s as an observer where Fletcher shines. Although he witnessed (or not witnessed, as he missed the infamous Bill Grundy appearance) punk hit its peak and then again as the mod revival briefly took hold, Tony never threw his lot in with any cult or fad. Only last week I saw Jamming! referred to as mod fanzine, something it definitely wasn’t although it was supportive of some of the bands (notably Southend’s Speedball who feature heavily) and he did see it develop from queues of young mods outside The Who’s Rainbow gig in ’78 to gigs at The Wellington pub in Waterloo and burn out at a rapidly once it appeared on Janet Street Porter’s London Weekend Show.

Fletcher had a healthy scepticism about the mod revival and was furious at being labelled a mod but it’s interesting to read his more dispassionate account of it from the view of an onlooker. Secret Affair in particular are accused cynically manoeuvring themselves at the vanguard of the movement and denying their recent past. “Even if looking good was the answer, looking backwards most certainly was not.”

Looking over one’s shoulder was a good idea back in the late 70s, as violent skinheads (the right-wing moron kind) were omnipresent at gigs. It’s hard to imagine fights at gigs these days but back then it was difficult to imagine going to a gig without that thought becoming a reality. I’ve mainly focused above on the mod element but Boy About Town is about much more than that. Fletcher paints a vivid picture of the time – both through the eyes of a boy dealing with growing up and into the underground music scene of bands, fanzines, small record labels, and a staunchly independent spirit.

The book ends with Tony taking his O Levels and receiving an amazing proposition from Paul Weller. It’s a great read and one which potentially invites the difficult second album syndrome.   

Boy About Town by Tony Fletcher is published by William Heinemann, out now. 

For more info check Tony's ijamming.net

THE WHO at WESTMINSTER TECHNICAL COLLEGE (1966)

Watch, listen and marvel as The Who make a big, brilliant racket to a bunch of screaming young mod girls on Saturday 9^th July 1966. Filmed for a Canadian television special "British Pop Groups" it was broadcast that October and features excerpts from "Substitute", "Baby Don't You Do It", "My Generation" and a trample over “See See Rider”. It doesn't get much better than this.

WHO WE ARE: PETE TOWNSHEND IN CONVERSATION/ MODS AND FRIENDS OF THE WHO IN THE PUB

Side One. The Old Truman Brewery, Brick Lane, Bethnal Green.

Fade in.

Two chairs on a stage in front of a projection reading “Will Hodgkinson in conversation with Pete Townshend”. Hundreds of chairs squashed together facing them. Please welcome, Pete Townshend. Pete talks. Feedback screeches. And again. Hodgkinson makes same auto-destructive art gag twice. Not a conversation, more a monologue. Will, wearing nice brown suede boots, and audience occasionally interject but otherwise it’s all Pete for over an hour promoting his autobiography Who I Am. Throw him a crumb and he’ll bake you a cake. Lots about being an art student in 1961. Drifted into pop music. Had to leave pretty college girls to his mate Barney - Richard Barnes - whilst he did gigs and waited for the fight to start. Wrote early songs directly for his mod audience. Was easy as mods were all the same. Now his audience are old and complicated he can’t write for them. As the male mods got more effeminate the female mods got more masculine, no Bridget Bardot glamour: short hair, dark straight shirts. Wrote songs as demos to play to the Who whereas John came in with the music for “Whiskey Man” and “Boris The Spider” written out. Keith and John preferred the lighter songs like “Happy Jack” and dressing up in silly clothes. Roger would complain songs weren’t working class enough. Has no favourite songs from his solo catalogue and doesn’t think of them as separate from his other writing. Doesn’t mind doing gigs but doesn’t love them either even though he says he is great at them. Love for the Rolling Stones. Even when they are crap, Jagger is incredible. Brian Jones gets a bad press but was always nice to Pete and was a musicologist. All of them were cool to hang out with. The Beatles were okay but came from a slightly earlier showbiz tradition and then bridged into the younger generation. More art school reminisces. Lecturer said in 1961 everyone would have computers by 1965. Sly and the Family Stone brilliant at Woodstock. They repeated the refrain “I Wanna Take Your Higher” over and over until the slumbering crowd woke up and got into it. The Who repeated trick with “Listening To You”. Keith had a great way with words and said two girls “were attached” to him and John in van before Woodstock. Pop music is a vehicle for a communal experience for the audience to lose themselves in a crowd and become one. They aren’t there for Bono, they are there for themselves. Can never have a conversation with Bob Dylan. Dylan likes the ladies and happy to chat away with Pete’s partner Rachel. Does impression of Bob talking to Rachel. Tried to attract his attention. Bob eventually looks up and says “Where’s Roger?”

Hundreds queue for book signing. Military operation. Staff open book, bung it in front of Pete, flicks his pen, pick up your book, move on, next. No signing anything except book, no posing for photos. Can you put ‘To Mark and Paula’? Too late. “No, but you look very stylish the pair of you. Really great." Okay, thanks, that’s even better. Said same thing to friends David Edwards and Claudia Elliott moments earlier. Shake hands. Looks older close up Paula and her sister Karen ask for a hug. “No, but I take it back about mod girls, you've got in down pat. You’re both very sharp”.

Side Two. The Golden Heart, Commercial Street, Spitalfields.

Arrange to meet Moonie’s loyal assistant and Full Moon author Dougal Butler in the pub. Off we strut – a procession of mods and Who glitterati - including Richard Barnes and Doug Sandon, drummer from The Detours. Dougal and Barney regale the mod corner with their tales. Dougal tells of he and Moonie nicking jackets from two sleeping policemen, find car keys in the pockets and take it for a spin, sirens blaring, and return before they woke. Does a little dance and sings "We are the mods". People on Facebook ask him random stuff like where Keith bought that jacket he was wearing in photo from 1971. How the fuck should he know? Talking of random questions, where did Keith get his elephant’s foot table? The one in the picture with him playing records wearing crushed velvet trousers, wife Kim in red tights and daughter Mandy playing? It wasn’t a table it was a planter and Dougal still has it. Bought in Mombasa. Keith and Kim also bought a smaller one with a lid for John and Alison Entwistle’s wedding present. Alison recently gave it to Dougal. Full Moon doing well and getting good press in America. Rumours Roger Daltrey has been offered a huge advance to write his autobiography.

Barney signs my copy of his Mods! book. The Bible since I was thirteen. Surprised the pages aren’t falling out. They are. The Scene club had the most discerning mods. Goldhawk Road and his own Railway Hotel were just for locals. Guy Stevens had the most amazing record collection. Calls Dave Edwards the new Guy Stevens. The footage of the High Numbers at the Railway Hotel on the Amazing Journey DVD made him think they were better than he gave them credit for at the time. Didn’t think mods would like them at The Scene as they were so loud and mods would sooner listen to James Brown but they did. The Action were good but The Small Faces were the other great ones, especially for Steve Marriott’s voice. The photos in Mods! and Pete’s book of The Who dancing at The Scene, were they staged or genuine? Genuine. Who was the best dancer? Pete, as coming from a showbiz family didn’t mind making a fool of himself. Roger was too stiff back then and basically a rocker. Pete the only one that really connected with mod. Pete can change like that. Click. Barney's voice sound similar to Pete's.

Landlady chirps in with how she knew Kenney Jones. Been in East End all her life and lived on same street, Watney Street in Stepney, as him. Got lost together in Hampton Court maze. Buddy Ascot from The Chords with us. Nice fella. He’s surprised people are still interested in the mod revival period. I'm not but loved his band The Rage back in ’84-’85. Man approaches to tell us about a Simon Townshend gig. Buddy forced to reveal what band he is in. Man’s face drops. Mouth wide open. Frozen. Still frozen. Oh. My. God. Utter disbelief. The Chords are my favourite band after The Who he says. Mine too says Buddy. Move away. Man says he went off band when they changed logo and put the “o” in Chords into a square. Stumble from pub. Newspaper reports of Kray twins on chip paper.

Fade out.

Many thanks to Claudia Elliott for photographs of Pete Townshend, Richard Barnes and Dougal Butler. 

SAY IT LOUD (REPRISE)

So that’s London 2012 over and the new sense of national pride from the opening ceremony (Say It Loud) thankfully carried over for the rest of the tournament. Yesterday I went to the men's marathon (with young friend of MonkeyPicks Ruby T pictured above) and although that was the only event I witnessed live it was a great to stand with spectators of many nationalities cheering on all the athletes. Well done to gold medalist Stephen Kiprotich from Uganda who whooshed past me after 5, 13 and 21 miles. Most days though were spent in Victoria Park near the Olympic Village, watching sports I'd usually have no interest in on big screens; bouncing on Jeremy Deller's inflatable Stonehenge; being chasing by hungry dinosaurs; witnessing blokes in y-fronts escape from straight-jackets; or sitting on the grass, pint in hand, listening to bands on the music stage. Geno Washington relished his stint and his infectious personality and frequent references to dipping into his soul pot won me over; Soul II Soul had me briefly indulging in a spot of appropriate 80s style dancing - I was a bit tipsy and still giddy with excitement from Mo Farah smashing the 10,000m; Courtney Pine was too keen on audience participation for my liking but played a track that sounded like mating foxes which I nodded sagely to; and Natty Congeroo and the Flames of Rhythm swung nicely as families inadvertently sang along to tales of scoring opium from China Town. After last year’s riots Britain was never the hellhole it was painted and these Olympics haven’t made it heaven but the majority seemed to embrace it (many to their surprise) and draw inspiration (or at least admiration) from the hard graft and dedication of the athletes.

Whether London 2012 leaves any enduring legacy or how long the current feel-good factor lasts remains to be seen (I could feel it draining away through the closing ceremony until The Who finally ended it on a high). The love many of us feel now may turn out to be nothing more than a holiday romance, but if that’s the case, it has been the best holiday romance ever.     

FULL MOON: INTERVIEW WITH KEITH MOON’S RIGHT HAND MAN AND CO-CONSPIRATOR, DOUGAL BUTLER (2012)

Peter “Dougal” Butler had the daunting job title of Keith Moon’s Personal Assistant. Dougal’s account, first published in the UK in 1981 as Moon The Loon, lovingly catalogues ten years of crazy escapades, often in bawdy detail. It is one of the funniest books you’ll ever read and an appropriately hilarious tribute to his former employer. Long out of print, it now sees the light again thanks to a new edition published on the 7th July as Full Moon by Faber Finds, available as a "proper" book and an e-book.  An audio version follows on the 1st August. MonkeyPicks shared a cup of tea, a chinwag, and plenty of laughs with its very genial author.         

How do you feel about seeing your book back in print?

I’m – excuse the pun – over the moon about it. Word for word that is how Keith sounded, those were his antics. I’m really pleased with it even though it’s now thirty years later. It’s coming out exactly as it was, no changes, and Keith’s old friend Karl Howman has done a brilliant job reading the entire book for the audio version for Talking Books. 

Where did you first see The Who?

Either the Blue Moon in Hayes or a big gig they did at the Southall Community Centre.  I was wearing my Ivy League suit and BlueBeat hat and I remember them doing “Heatwave” and “Barbara Ann” so it was 1964 or maybe early 1965. I used to go and see them all the time. They were my favourite band, I was a mod and I spent all my money on clothes. 

Tell us about your mod days.

I remember buying this suede coat from Petticoat Lane, beautiful, in mustard yellow, full length, had the Levi’s with the little turn-ups, Hush Puppies, Fred Perry shirts, crew cut. I remember coming down the stairs at home checking myself out in the full length mirror thinking I was the dog’s bollocks. My dad looks at me and this yellow coat and says “Have you seen the fucking state of you, going out like that?” I used to go on my mate’s scooter to all the places: the Ricky Tick, the Blue Moon, the Marquee, and the 100 Club. We’d meet at the Queen’s Head in Uxbridge and everyone would go to Burton’s Dancehall around the corner on a Saturday night before getting the tube into town to the Flamingo. Then we’d jump on the milk train to get back at five o’clock in the morning.    

Did you own a scooter?

I never had my own scooter as my parents said I’d kill myself. Me and my mates clubbed together to buy an early 1950s Rover, running boards, the lot, for £17 to go down to Brighton. I was still at school and not old enough to have a licence but my parents were away so we put it in their garage and cleaned it all up. Eight of us drove it down to Brighton, no licence, no tax, all done up to the nines in all our mod gear. There were thousands of mods around and we nicked the tax disc from this two-seater Messerschmitt car there and put it on ours.  Slept in the car, and of course all the riots and stuff started happened and three of my mates were arrested, so we panicked and left it down there and caught the train home. Never saw it again.

What were the riots as bad as we read?

Oh yeah.  Obviously the press build things up but it was all running along Brighton front with the rockers and that. It was horrible down on the beach. When you get older you wonder why you did it, what was the cause, did it but it was an of the moment thing.

How did you first get involved with working for The Who in 1967?

Mod connects through Bob Pridden, who is still the Who’s road manager.  Although I was born in Southall I grew up mainly in Hayes but didn’t like Hayes so ventured a bit further out and knew Bob when he was a mod and had a scooter and we went to see The Who together. Bob said he’d got a job with band starting with a two week tour of Scotland. I was on 5 pound a week and Bob said he’d give me fifteen quid a week to help him. I thought I’d won the lottery. I went home and told me mum, all proud as punch. “Ah, you don’t know what you’re doing, you’ll be into drugs. I thought you said you’d be doing an apprenticeship to do central heating”. But it was only for two weeks so I did it and they asked me to stay. 

What were your first impressions meeting the band?

Prior to going to on tour Bob took me to Track Records office in Old Compton Street to meet the people there. Unbeknown to me Keith and John walked in. Keith was wearing this second hand fur coat and introduced himself and John. You know when you’re attracted to someone, and know you’re going to get along, have a laugh and have some fun. It was just instant with Keith and John.  To cut a long story short I left the office and they left too. Me and Bob stopped at some traffic lights in St. John’s Wood and they pull up by the side of us on the right hand side. I’ve got the window down and Keith shouting “Alright mate! Welcome!” and chucks a bloody great smoke bomb through the window. We were stuck at the lights with our car filling up with blue smoke, couldn’t see nothing, just laughing our heads off. So that was my inauguration.

How do you move from being a roadie to working as a personal assistant?

I worked with John as his PA first for a while, which was great, a fabulous guy. I didn’t fall out with John at all but I got a call from Keith to be his PA. I think the guy who was then working for Keith was trying to be Keith, if you understand what I mean. I got a phone call about eleven o’clock at night at my parent house. “I’ve had a word with John and I want you to work for me.” I was like er, er, er, what am I getting myself into here? I took it and Kit Lambert and Chris Stamp came up to me after and said, “We trust you with Keith but if you ever want any time off, for a holiday or some sort of rest, let us know and we’ll pay for it.” This was great of them, although I never took up their offer. 

Did you have a job description of any kind?

No, I’d just take it as it came. You never what corner he’d turn so you just had to be on your toes. It was instant decisions about what to do. Luckily 90% of time it worked and I got him out of situations. I was never a fighter, just had to use a bit of tact. Some of these guys we met had bodyguards when they went out, but Keith just had me: ten stone of fuck all, which was a challenge but we managed to wheedle our way out of most things. Me and Keith had our arguments but he was great. I never told him what he could or couldn’t do because it wasn’t my bag but I kept my eye on him and he was great fun. If he wanted to do something he’d do it. Sometimes I’d hold his coat and say go for it. What you learnt was what was going on in his mind and tried to be a step or two ahead but he was very unpredictable.

Did Keith have any limits?

No, he didn’t have any limits, and I think that was with his drugs sometimes. They were legal - drynamil and mandrax - but Keith would take handfuls instead of two or three a day. So those mixed with the alcohol would mean he didn’t know when to stop. He was trying to make people laugh and be Mr Funny, he wanted people to love him and enjoy him, but he would go so far. Like a train ride you couldn’t stop. I’d have to say to him, “Look Keith, we’ve got to be up at seven o’clock in the morning – not that we ever got up then –for a photo shoot or recording, come on, we’ve got to go” to get him home.  Keith would do anything for a laugh. Most guys when they’re single will always meet up with the boys on a Friday night in the pub, and there’s always one of them that you hope is going to be there because they are a character, have a great sense of humour and will come out with jokes, and make you laugh. And Keith was one of those characters.  He was a joy to be around, most of the time, although he could also be a right pain in the arse. 

Do you think he ever would have settled down?

No I don’t think so. I knew he was trying to get off the booze and drugs just before he died and I’d put him into AA over in LA, and over here, but any drug addict or alcoholic will tell you that you can get all the help from your family and friends but the only person that can do it is that person themself. You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink.

It’s hard to imagine Keith with a hobby but did he have any interests?

No, none. I suppose if he’d been into football or golf or cricket or whatever he would’ve had a routine of some sort but he wasn’t interested in anything, nothing at all. He never even practised the drums. The only time he practised was when the band was rehearsing for tours. He never had a drum kit at home or in the garage. He wasn’t into keeping fit like Roger was. He just loved eating and drinking at home. His beach house in LA, next door to Steve McQueen, had a beautiful lounge but he never spend any time in there. He’d be in his bedroom watching TV and that was that. What was horrible about LA was he attracted the wrong type of people: all the drug people, all the wannabes. It would drive me insane. They’d come in with big bags of coke [demonstrates the size of a pound of sugar] and I’d go “Whooah, let me have that.”  They’d say it was for Keith and I’d tell them I’d sort it. I’d go into the khazi, shut the door, and pour it down the pan. Later I’d mix up sugar and salt and line them up. I’d be drinking my Heineken and thinking “You bunch of wankers.”

How was he on set for That’ll Be The Day and Stardust?

Oh, fantastic. Especially on That’ll Be The Day we had some great times, brilliant fun. David Puttnam asked who we’d cast in Stardust and as Keith loved I Dream Of Jeannie with Larry Hagman, Puttnam agreed to cast Larry. From the day we met, Keith and Larry got on famously. I have to say he is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met in my life. There are no qualms about him, he’s just fabulous, a lovely man who we spent a lot of time with. I did try to get Keith into the movies but he would never have made a movie star because you’d have to be regimented and he’d blow it every time. On Yellowbeard, which Graham Chapman of Monty Python wrote, he went for a screen test. Graham said “Well done Keith” but as soon as Keith drove off the director came over and it was “No way Jose.”

Didn’t Oliver Reed buy Keith a tortoise?

Yes, they used to bring it on set during Tommy and when there was a break in filming they’d put it on the table with a glass of brandy on its back and pass between each other. He was great Ollie. We first met him before starting Tommy when Keith said to the film people he needed a helicopter. “Yes, I’d like a helicopter now please, from Battersea. I want to pop round and see Ollie to break the ice.” So we flew to his place just outside Dorking and Ollie is there with a twelve-bore shotgun going “Fuck off!” shooting at us. The pilot is nearly shitting himself, Keith was laughing, I was thinking oh god what’s going to happen here: Keith, Ollie, a shotgun, and they’ve not even met yet! They got on like a house on fire. That night the three of us got absolutely pissed and he was teaching Keith Shakespeare.

You write in your book about Keith not having many real friends...

No, he didn’t really. There was Ringo, Harry Nilsson, and the rest of The Who but as close, close friends he didn’t really have one. He’d phone me up and talk to me about anything and probably Pete Townshend as well if he was worried about something. Pete was a gentleman enough to hang on the phone and talk for a bit but he knew when Keith was out of it and put the phone down on him knowing he’d forget all about it.

Did you consider yourself a proper mate to him?

Yeah I did and think that was how we got on. I’d get fired every week and I’d threaten to leave the next week but it was a love relationship. I don’t mean in a sexual way, let’s get that straight right away! We were good, good mates and sometimes that doesn’t work in business but I suppose I didn’t look at it as a business, but it became too much for me in the end, especially living in LA with all these hangers-on, I could just see him not making it.

What was his relationship like with his wife Kim when they were at living at Tara House in Chertsey?

He and Kim were breaking up. It was difficult as there’s no way any decent girl should live with a human being like that, and I mean that in the nicest possible way, especially with a young kid, Mandy, in tow. You can’t bring up a child in that environment and Kim was fully aware of that. She gave Keith quite a few chances. Everybody loved Kim and everybody loved Keith. I was sort of piggy in middle. I knew what she was doing, I knew what he was doing, and I had to try to steer both of them. I saw Keith in tears sometimes. When she left I had to tread a careful line. Why should I have to take sides and say who was right or wrong, I loved them both. It devastated Keith when they got divorced. “She’ll come back,” he said. I said “Keith, she won’t.”

Do you think Kim was the only person Keith really loved?

Yes, and I don’t mean to hurt Annette who he was with after, but I do really truly believe that. For instance, when we were living in LA with Annette, Keith used to love his curries and there was only one Indian restaurant in Santa Monica and we went and ordered a takeaway. There was this girl in there that looked the spitting image of Kim. He ordered his meal, looked up, clocked her, and went and sat outside. He was sobbing his heart out. I knew what he’d seen. But Keith never learnt his lessons. He went through it again with Annette and abused that situation too. 

What’s your favourite Moonie exploit?

There are lots. Throwing cherry bombs in lifts when you didn’t know who was in there was good fun and when we were in Detroit Judy Carne was doing a play with Patrick MacNee and they were staying at the same hotel as us. We’d done the gig and went back to the hotel to find them and a guy from Three Dog Night who was with Judy.  We were chatting and getting slowly pissed in their room and after a while I said to Keith we’d better go as they wanted to go to bed.  In the meantime we’d bought these gas guns. We got back to our room and were still buzzing and thinking what shall we do now.  So we decided to go back to their room and set these gas guns off for a laugh. We’re back in the lift, hiding these guns for the security guys, and Keith couldn’t remember what suite they were in.  I said I thought it was this one and we tucked the guns underneath their door and on the count of three we fired them. BOOM! All of a sudden there was this rrroof-rrroof-rrroof, dogs barking. I said to Keith “Fuck me, I don’t remember them having dogs!”  There was some woman in there who was taking her dogs to a dog show and we’d gassed them!  We ran back to our room and were in hysterics. They didn’t die or anything, the gas only really created a bit of smell and then it goes. 

Keith famously took anything and everything he was offered but there didn’t seem much heroin around...

No there wasn’t.  You talking about heroin I remember when Ronnie Wood had just joined the Stones and he was renting a place in Malibu. His first child had been born so we went round there to celebrate. Mick Jagger was there, Linda Ronstadt, the bass player from The Band, a few other Faces.  Me and Keith were sitting out on the porch and on the table was a phial of coke. “Oh, look dear boy, look what someone has left us.” He had a big sniff, I had one, and an hour later I was seeing blue, green, thinking fuck me what’s going on here? Keith was perfectly alright. I was going dizzy, seeing sort of traffic lights in front of my eyes. Diana Ross walks me along the beach. She was great, hitting me in the stomach, I was being sick. I hadn’t realised we’d taken heroin. It was fucking awful. Didn’t even touch the sides with Keith, “You alright Dougal, dear boy?”

The 1970s rock and roll lifestyle was divorced from most people’s reality, how was it for you?

I tried to keep my feet on the ground.  In those days, the late 60s, early 70s a lot of the roadies and people would knock around together but I didn’t, I tried to keep away from that, tried to keep with my own mates who were totally separate from that industry.  Hence I’d go down the Coach and Horse in Ickenham, and go to parties with “normal people” if you like, to get away from that madness.  Although, don’t get me wrong, when I did go to industry parties I’d enjoy myself but as far as my mates went they had normal jobs and that kept me sane. 

Did Keith’s behaviour wear the rest of The Who down?

Roger said to me four or five months before I left that I needed to have a word with Keith because if he didn’t get himself together he would be out of the band. I said I couldn’t tell him that, it had to come from him and the rest of the band. I didn’t think it should come from me. I think the quality of his lifestyle did effect his drumming in the end. He’d ballooned up, put on a lot of weight. I don’t know if he sort of gave up but I know he wouldn’t have committed suicide. 

How did it end with the pair of you?

We had one big punch-up, and we never hit each other before, ever, but fists were thrown. I don’t mind admitting it but I was taking coke, only a little bit just to keep up with Keith, but I didn’t want to go down that road. I could see Keith destroying himself. I let him have it and we had words, “you’re this”, and “you’re that.”  I rang up The Who’s manager Bill Curbishley and said he had to bring him home from LA because I can’t do this anymore and one of us is going to pop our socks and it fucking ain’t going to be me. If he didn’t get him home he’d be dead within months.  Anyway, we got him home and Pete bought him a flat, but as we known he would die about nine months later. 

Do you still keep in contact with The Who?

I speak to Roger five or six times a year, less so Pete who I’ve not spoken to for a while. I still see Alison Entwistle and spend a lot of time with her, and Keith’s mum has moved down the road so I pop in for a cup of tea with her and Keith’s sister. 

Finally, if you had to advertise the job as Keith’s personal assistant, what would you say?

Long days and nights, sense of humour, and must handle with care. 

Interview by Mark Raison and Paula Baker. Huge thanks to Dougal. 

Full Moon by Peter "Dougal" Butler with Chris Trengrove and Peter Lawrence is published by Faber Finds.  Dougal will be signing copies at the Who's Who gig this Saturday, 7^th July, at the Half Moon, Putney.  

Website: Full Moon The Book

JUNE PLAYLIST

This month’s trawl through the sounds currently rocking Monkey Mansions.

1.  The Ravens – “Rock Me All Night Long” (1952)

Jimmy Ricks’s big bass voice was one of the most instantly recognisable in doo-wop.  When he wanted rocking, he wanted rocking. This track is taken from a splendid new compilation on Bear Family Records, Street Corner Symphonies. The Complete Story of Doo Wop Volume 4: 1952.   

2.  Wanda Jackson – “Tongue Tied” (1961)

It is difficult to choose between Wanda’s rockabilly sides and her country sides but this puts forward a case for the former.

3.  Wes Montgomery – “Besame Mucho” (1963)

For me, what separates jazz guitarists like Wes and Grant Green from their rock counterparts is they understood space and time.  Wes’s crazy flipper fingers do tons of work yet there’s room to breathe between the notes and I can’t imagine him going all squinty eyed and grimacing whist he’s doing it. Featured on his rather good Boss Guitar LP with Mel Rhyne on Hammond and Jimmy Cobb on drums (jazzers like to name the whole band).  Muchos besos para Wes.
  

4.  Oscar Brown Jr – “Forty Acres and a Mule” (1965)

Brown recalls learning in school that all freed slaves were entitled to forty acres and a mule.  Now he wants his. 

5.  Jackie Mittoo – “Get Up and Get It” (1969)

Mittoo started out playing piano in the Skatalites before becoming musical arranger for Jamaica’s Studio One recordings.  “Get Up and Get It” is firmly in the funky-soul-jazz territory occupied elsewhere at the time by Booker T. & The MGs and The Meters. 

6.  Bond and Brown – “Scunthorpe Crabmeat Train Sideways Boogie Shuffle Stomp” (1972)

Graham Bond made Two Heads Are Better Than One with Pete Brown and is, as this title suggests, a doolally jazz poetry affair.  It would be his last LP and a suitably bonkers one to leave on.

7.  J.P. Robinson – “George Jackson” (1972)

In April’s Playlist I raved about Bob Dylan’s original version but hot on its heels came this soul stirrer.  One of the best Dylan covers I’ve ever heard.

8.  The Who – “The Real Me” (1973)

If you missed Can You See The Real Me? The Making of Quadrophenia on the telly last night you missed a treat.  Far from covering old ground about the record there was rarely seen live footage, new interviews with Townshend and Daltrey, old clips of Entwistle and Moon, Pete revealing notes and letters from his archive, interviews with some of the kids featured in the album booklet, Irish Jack revisiting the Goldhawk Road Social Club and loads more including Mark Kermode helpfully explaining what a double album was.     

9.  Devo – “Jocko Homo” (1977)

“Are we not men? We are Devo.”

10.  Crass – “Poison In A Pretty Pill” (1981)

When Jonny Wilks and I walked home from school we’d either sing Smiths albums from start to finish or repeat the title of Crass’s Penis Envy LP in as many ridiculous voices as possible.  I only heard the record for the first time this week.  Me and Jonny took great delight in serenading Ickenham residents to Morrissey’s “You can pin and mount me like a butterfly”; I’m sure “I want to rape the substance of your downy hair” would’ve gone down just as well.

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.