Rock and Roll Stories #14 - The wilderness years

 Between the 19th May 1990 and the 20th April 2002, The False Dots performed no gigs at all. Shortly after the gig at St Josephs College, Mill Hill on the 19th May, I disbanded the False Dots. A decade that started with the band dreaming of conquering the world (or maybe just Camden Town), ended with me being totally disllusioned with playing music. I put the guitar down and vowed that I'd done my last gig. At 27, I felt old and irrelevant. The sort of music I liked was totally out of fashoin. The punk and ska explosion of the late 1970's had fizzled out. 

This was the top ten in the week we played our last gig

Official Singles Chart

Number1

KILLER
ADAMSKI

1. LW: 1,
2. Peak: 1,
3. Weeks: 8

Official UK Chart: Top 10 Songs This Week | What's The Number 1 Single?

Number2

BETTER THE DEVIL YOU KNOW
KYLIE MINOGUE

1. LW: 2,
2. Peak: 2,
3. Weeks: 3

Number3

DIRTY CASH
THE ADVENTURES OF STEVIE V

1. LW: 3,
2. Peak: 2,
3. Weeks: 10

Number4

COVER GIRL
NEW KIDS ON THE BLOCK

1. LW: 4,
2. Peak: 4,
3. Weeks: 3

Number5

HOLD ON
EN VOGUE

1. LW: 7,
2. Peak: 5,
3. Weeks: 4

Number6

I STILL HAVEN'T FOUND WHAT I'M LOOKING FOR
CHIMES

1. LW: 16,
2. Peak: 6,
3. Weeks: 2

Number7

OPPOSITES ATTRACT
PAULA ABDUL WITH THE WILD PAIR

1. LW: 5,
2. Peak: 2,
3. Weeks: 8

Number8

VOGUE
MADONNA

1. LW: 6,
2. Peak: 1,
3. Weeks: 8

Number9

WON'T TALK ABOUT IT
BEATS INTERNATIONAL

1. LW: 10,
2. Peak: 9,
3. Weeks: 3

Number10

TAKE YOUR TIME FT WONDRESS
MANTRONIX FEATURING WONDRESS

1. LW: 11,
2. Peak: 10,
3. Weeks: 3

There was nothing that excited me,  there seemed to be few gigs that I wanted to go to. What was worse was that the ethos that got me into music had disappeared. It seemed to me that Thatcherism had worked it's evil magic and everyone had become selfish and hedonistic. Gigs had become almost impossible to get. No one was interested in our sort of music. I actually thought our 1990 line up was brilliant. Tony Robotham was a great singer and performer, but we simply couldn't get any interest. 

I took stock, thought I'd had a good run and put the guitars away. We'd put a lot of work into the studios and I felt it was important to give bands somewhere to play and I realised that there was a business that would bring in cash, but I had completely fallen out of love with music. My main job was in IT, but it didn't excite me. I felt like a man who had sold his soul to the devil, for a few years of fun, only to find myself living in a world of broken dreams where nothing excited me. I'd got back into football, playing for Old Hendonians and this filled a gap of sorts. By 1992, the music scene had picked up. Bands like the Happy Mondays,  Nirvana, Blur, Oasis and Suede had hit the scene. I'd been a bit slow to pick up on them initially, but found when I put the radio on, I was excited by what I was hearing. 

Then a young band hit the studio and I thought "They are amazing". I realised that I'd learned a hell of a lot running the band and could put this to good use. So I ended up managing The Sway. They were four local lads, who played what we now call Britpop. They were amazing live and and had some great tunes. I was genuinely excited. I got them some amazing gigs, and a record deal with an independent label. We made two singles and a very overblown video. The band were played on Radio 1 and stations around the country. They played a few minor festivals, but despite spending a huge amount of time and money. the hit never came. Within three years, the band split up and that was that. In hindsight, I screwed up massively. I was offered a decent sum of money as a finders fee by a major management company, who also saw their potential. When they outlined their plans for the band, I was horrified. I knew I'd be throwing lambs to wolves. I also felt that their interest showed that I was right about the band. I discussed the offer and the band declined the offer. Oddly, the gigs and opportunities dried up. In hindsight, if I'd taken the cash, I'd have been laughing and they'd probably have at least had a proper career. 

When the band split up, I was gutted. We'd just recorded a new single, a cover of 2000 light years from home by the Rolling Stones. We had the Stones blessing and did a dance remix that was brilliant. However, David the singer was less than happy at doing a cover, not seeing the concept of it being a mechanism to elevate the band. He quit and all efforts to get things going again simply didn't work. The episode coincided with the studios growing massively. The efforts put into The Sway had raised the profile of the band and the networking opportunities had massively improved our client base, but I was rather demoralised by it. By 1997, I'd vowed to completely leave the music business alone, aside from running the studio. Having two young daughters helped that decision. I was working like a lunatic, in IT and running the studio. I was always getting asked to manage bands, but I always politely declined. On a couple of occasions, I did them a favour, got them gigs, introduced them to great contacts. They would never even say thank you most times. One thing I learned with artists and their business teams, is that when things go well it is the bands brilliance, when things go badly, it is the managers/agents/labels fault. I didn't mind, but it did reinforce my decision. The only exception I made was to help organise local fundraiser gigs and the Mill Hill Music Festival.

By 1999, the studio was employing musical guitar legend Fil Ross and drummer Tony Cavaye. They started nagging me to have a jam. I wasn't interested, but our old bassplayer Paul Hircombe said "Rog, why don't we record a few of the old tracks for posterity". As I had a studio and I liked a few of the old numbers, I cracked. In early 2000, we had a jam. I hadn't picked up a guitar for ten years and it showed. I selected seven songs that were easy and tuneful. We started to play. After about fifteen minutes, I thought to myself "My God, I've really missed this". If felt like we'd never stopped. I had no ambitions beyond getting some recordings done. Then tragedy struck. My best mate and business partner, Ernie Ferebee was struck down with Pancreatic cancer and died in February 2001. Rick Collins, a good mate and bassplayer with a host of well known punk bands, suggested that the band headline a charity gig for Ernies family. Having vowed never to perform again, here we were. We played at The Red Lion in Colindale. There was a large crowd and we smashed it.

I realised that being a performer wasn't something I could walk away from. I loved it and we were pretty good. I started writing songs again. I've no longer got any dreams of conquering the world, or even Camden Town, but we do have a residency at The Dublin Castle and we are pretty damn good, even if I say so myself. I look back at those wilderness years with a degree of incredulity now. How could I  have stopped doing something I so clearly love? The sad truth is that I made the mistake of listening to people who didn't understand why I was doing it. It was never about getting hits, playing major venues. It has always been about playing music I love and sharing a moment with the audience. When the False Dots do that, we are as good as any band you will see. When we start straying from that ethos and trying to make music to fit the current scene or to appeal to A&R men, we become a very dodgy band indeed. I wish I'd realised that 45 years ago.

The band are doing a free show at Mill Hill Music Complex tomorrow evening with three other young bands. Come along if you fancy it.  Here's a blast of what you will hear.