I had a dream that I was dead and I was sitting on this massive leather chair in a waiting room to go some place else, where I don't know. I realised that Jesus was sitting next to me, smoking a big cigar. He wasn't the Jesus you see portrayed in stain glass windows, or even in the new testament. He was this really cool bloke, who you just felt happy rapping with. He said to me "What do you reckon?". My answer "It's been a laugh, hasn't it?". He looked at me and just said "Hasn't it, shaking his head and smiling".
At that point, Clare woke me up with a cup of tea. I was rather discombobulated. I wasn't dead or having a cigar with Jesus. I was alive and there are still things to be done. My first thought though was "Blimey, it's a miracle, why did he send me back to all this?".
That was about three weeks ago. It has been troubling me ever since. I am not sure I've fully figured it out, but stick with me. Do you ever wonder why you were put here? Until I was fourteen, I felt lost and didn't have a clue. Then I saw the Ramones at The Roundhouse and discovered punk rock in 1977. I decided that my life was going to be about music and playing in a band. It took us a couple of years to get things sorted out, buy instruments, learn to play them so we could at least make a recognisable noise, and recruit other members.
Once all of this was done, we started rehearsing. At some point around then, I started a scrapbook, to keep the mementos as we progressed. Boz Boorer, a school mate of Morrissey and The Polecats fame, told me t didn't look very 'Punk Rock', so I crossed out the "S" and it became the 'Crapbook'. I had a rummage through it recently, to see if it could throw any light on my search for answers.
In 2001, I add "or at least until 2001 as the final sentence.
At the back of the scrapbook, I listed 8 facts that you should know about The False Dots. The bits in brackets are things I've added here so you have some clue what I am talking about.
1. The False Dots interview with Xpert-I (a fanzine we spoke to in 1979 - the interview was a disaster) was the biggest joke since the American early warning system at Pearl Harbour.
2. Our first gig was the most successful disaster of all time.
3. Craig (former guitarist) likes sandwiches.
4. Progress is continual pissing in the wind
5. We would like to see Bunsen Burn (Pete Conway had a punch up with a band called Bunsen's lead singer).
6. Venessa is really very talented, that's why she left.
7. Roger is not, that is why he stayed
8. I suppose you have concluded from this that time is a passing fancy.... Boing
Now I wrote that in 1980/81 sometime, around when I first started the scrapbook. The idea was that the last page would be a sort of interesting stream of consciousness list of interesting facts. As you probably guessed from the title (hopefully), this is one of my series of blogs about the history of The False Dots. Most of the stories have been from years, if not decades ago. I've not really said anywhere what I feel about the band, the state of music and told any stories from right now. The reason I started with the snippets at the top, is because they were simply what I was feeling 'right now', when right now was a very long time ago. All of these points were massively significant or funny when written. The reference to Craig and his sandwiches, was because his Mum would always bring him a packet of sandwiches to eat at gigs, in case he got hungry (very un Rock and Roll). I banned my parents from gigs, as I was too worried about looking cool. Oddly, I suppose, there's nothing I'd love more than for my folks to turn up now, with a packet of sandwiches, however, short of Jesus raising them from the dead, it won't happen. Times change.
The Rock and Roll stories of the early years of The False Dots were all about shenanigans, chaos, putting bands together and kids playing at being rock and roll stars. I realised that there are still stories, but the tone and feel of them has changed. The last gig of the summer, we did was at the Jesterfest in Fortune Green for Lyn Boorer. We had made the mistake of timing it to coincide with England's game against Switzerland. Only the False Dots could release a song supporting England and then book two gigs that clashed with England games. What it meant was that as soon as we finished playing, we legged it down to the Alliance in West Hampstead and watched the second half. As we were walking down, we learned England were losing. We got there just as England equalised. The band shared a few beers with a few of our fans who'd made it down and England won! It was a blast and we all went home happy! It was fun, but wasn't the sort chaotic post gig party the Dots were famed for in 1983, but we've all grown up a bit.
Our rehearsals have changed. They used to be attended by all manner of mates/girlfiends and hangers on. They would often sit in the room next door, smoking hashish, listening to records and waiting for us to finish, whilst we wrote songs, rehearsed the set and argued with each other. When we were done, often, we'd go out and play five a side football, under the M1 motorway lights, in Bunns Lane Works, then drink tea until 3am.
I can't recall the last time a friend or hanger on turned up to watch. One of the best bits of a band rehearsal for me is the time spent chatting between songs. Anecdotes are swapped. Our drummer, Graham Ramsey is a great source of inspiration for songs. Grahame works for Camden council on their maintenance team, repairing homes for council tenants. As you can imagine, there is a rich vein of stories to mine. He's been with the band since 1985. I wanted Graham to join for a long time before that, but he was in other bands, that seemed to be doing a bit better than us. When he joined I thought (not for the first or last time) that he was the final piece in the puzzle. I've come to realise that there is no such thing. Every iteration of the band has good things and bad things. I mentioned Craig and his sandwiches above. I've mentioned him before. I didn't really ever get on with him, but he was absolutely vital to the band when he was in it. He was a good musician and reliable. He was there for many of our best moments. I'd be fascinated one day to hear his take on the whole thing. Whereas for many years, I'd have got the hump hearing his take, now it would be great to put it all in perspective. Hearing his memories, now (hopefully) neither of us has an exe to grind (or bury in each others head) would be something special. I am surprised he never really made more of his talents as a musician, as he was very good indeed. He had a great work ethic as a musician, but was never really part of the scene we had as a band, even though he was a quarter of the band. It is funny how you can spend so much time with people and know nothing about them.
What surprised me is that much of what I wrote in 1984 is as true now as it's ever been. I think the line up the band now have is great, and playing with the boys excites me. The songs we do are better than ever (we have 45 years of material to choose from). Adding Tom Hammond on Trumpet has made the band finally sound like the noise in my head that was The False Dots. It is hard to explain, but although we've been really good at various points, but in terms of just being happy with what we are doing, I don't think I've ever been happier. I thought I'd make a list of what makes a great band. These are in order of what I think are important. All are important to some degree and if any of these are missing, it will be a grim gig.
1. Energy
2. Charisma
3. Excitement/fun
4. Creativity
5. Unity of purpose
6. Technical ability
Which brings us to where we are today. To me the band scores pretty well on all categories. If I was to be a nerd, plug all of this into a spreadsheet and look at the 38 different line ups of the band, I think the current version would be up there. When I was sixteen and first talking about putting the band together, the idea that I'd still be playing live, and doing Not all she seems, which we wrote in 1980, would be bizarre. I thought that blokes my age now smoked pipes, watched cricket and snoozed along in olive green cardigans with big, round, brown buttons. The idea of someone older than my Dad, jumping up on stage at a trendy Camden pub like The Castle would be insanity, yet here we are!
We are not the trouble makers we were as teenagers. We don't look for pretty girls at gigs to chat up and invite to parties, but there are still hilarious moments. One of the funniest was when a mate of mine bumped into his youngest son's mates at a False Dots gigs. They were all having a boogie, when they saw their mates Dad joining in. We get quite a few tourists turning up, just to see what the Dublin Castle is like. Often they will assume that we must be very famous, to be our age and playing such a place. Then you get the old punks, turning up out of curiosity. Some will get the obscure references in songs. Some will even spot the obscure references, that I'd put in unconsciously. On occasions, one might even get a bit mardy as they've spotted a reference that I thought was hilarious, that they thought was really serious. We also occasionally get 'the competition' come down. Bands that used to be on the circuit with us decades ago, who remembered the name and come along to see what's happening. The "I saw you at Dingwalls in 1984, what happened to the girl singer" type comment comes out. Then there are those who saw us ten or fifteen years ago. In my mind quite recently, but in there minds a lifetime ago (if they are under 40). Often the comment is "We came down to see Fil (our bassplayer)". When we played at Camden Lock in 2009, Mandy, our very first female singer in 1979 turned up. It was amazing to see her. She was astounded that the band had somehow survived and was still playing in Camden.
There is no better feeling than to be up on stage, watching a bunch of people getting into the music you are making. I've always tried to avoid being in a covers/tribute band. Being able to play your music and get response from an idea that floated into you mind whilst walking the dog, or sitting on a broken down train is always satisfying. I know plenty of bands who make a decent living playing Mr Brightside and Wonderwall, which are nice enough numbers, but for me, there would be little point in spending my life re-emphasising that The Killers and Oasis can write a Killer tune.
I started this blog talking about that conversation in the big leather chair with Jesus. I've always thought that a fella who turns water into wine for his mates at a party, when the booze has run out and who pulls up a bunch of hypocrites trying to stone a woman to death for sleeping around would probably enjoy the band. When our final breath is done and we find ourselves in that big chair in the waiting room in the sky, I may have regrets, but I know for sure that having somehow managed to keep a Rock and Roll band going for 45 years will not be one of them!
See what you think. Here's one of our recent numbers
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