On Thursday night I had one of my biggest disappointments of recent years. I had arranged to see The Damned at The Roundhouse with my mate Boz Boorer. It would be the first time I've seen the band with legendary original member, drummer Rat Scabies, since the 1980's. It was their second night at the venue. Reports from the first night were amazing. I got on the tube in a very good frame of mind. When I got off the tube at Chalk Farm, my phone pinged. The gig had been cancelled. I was absolutely gutted. Our night of punk rock turned into a more sedate pub crawl that was very nice, but it was not what we wanted. It got me thinking about when my hopes were dashed. It seems an apt list. What is interesting looking back is that whilst I remember the disappointment, often eventually things worked out better than I hoped, once I recoverd from being crushed, so never give up hope!
1. Aguero's goal ruled out in Champions League semi final 17th April 2019 against Spurs. The match was in its last few minutes. City desperately needed a goal. Aguero did what Aguero always did and put it in the net. The Spurs players slumped to their knees, knowing they'd blown it. The Etihad went absolutely mad. CIty had pulled it off. Then the scoreboard put three letters up VAR. It was the first season of VAR and it was the first major decision I'd witnessed in the stadium. Next thing, the City players slumped on the ground and the Spurs players started leaping around. It had been disallowed for a very marginal offside. No one had a clue what had happened. We just knew it had been chalked off. It was only when we got in the car and had a four hour drive back that we realised. The drive was a miserable journey. I've had disappointments in football, but none of that scale. I've hated VAR ever since. It ruins football in the stadium. I could have ten football moments, but I won't. None were on this scale. We'd gone up with such high hopes, they disintegrated before my eyes.
2. Baby I love you by The Ramones. In the late 1970's, there was a lot of excitement because it was announced that The Ramones were teaming up with legendary "wall of sound" producer Phil Spector. The Ramones should have been the biggest band in the world. They were the best live band in the world and their songs were perfect blasts of pop music. They still sound brilliant. For some reason, they had zero chart success. It seemed that Spector would finally put them where they deserved to be. The album was to be entitled End of The Century and then they announced that the first single would be a cover of The Ronnettes "Baby I love you". I got hold of a copy of the original, which is amazing, and couldn't wait. I ordered it in advance from Mill Hill Sounds record shop. I was so excited when it arrived, that I rushed home, slapped it on the turntable and BAM! It was a turgid dirge. It is awful. Somehow, Spector had completely erased the sound of the Ramones and made it sound like a bad cover by a third rate band. The album was not much better. The worst moment for me, apart from Baby I love you, is their version of Chinese Rocks, Dee Dee's song about being a Junkie. It is one of the best songs released by Johnny Thunders Heartbreakers (Richard Hell co wrote it). Thunders was a junkie and it sounds authentic. The Ramones play their own song like a bad cover. I still get cross thinking about the debacle. My hopes of The Ramones becoming the biggest band were totally dashed and it made me realise that you can have all the best ingredients and still make something that is horrible!
3. My Dad selling his Mk1, 3 litre Capri and getting a Ford Cortina Estate. My Dad bought a souped up Capri in the early 1970's. He had it painted shiny black with a go faster red stripe. It was the coolest motor ever. It had been adapted for the pan African road rally and had a nitrus burner. Dad was a maniac behind the wheel. My mum hated the car, as it brought out the worst in him. He would race Police cars, with blue lights on, when the mood took him, performing highly dangerous manouvres to evade them, just for the hell of it. When they turned up, he'd claim that it had been being repaired at the time and one of his blokes must've borrowed it. I really can't condone such behaviour, but it was the most exhilarating fun I've ever had. When my brother Frank started running MacMetals, Dad went to Australia for six months. Frank ordered a brand new company car, a Cortina Estate. Dad returned and Frank realised that Dad was a nightmare to work with. He returned to the aviation industry, using his management experience to get a great job. Dad was left with a brand new Cortina. Mum insisted he got rid of the Capri (she was delighted and told me that she was convinced Dad would kill the pair of them if he kept it). In truth, I lost all interest in cars after that. To me, they are a necessary evil! What really hurt was that Dad had promised me that he'd give me the car when I learned to drive. I knew he was gutted as well, so I never mentioned it.
4. My Xmas present from my partner in 1983. I was living with a luscious young lass at the time. It was our first Xmas living together. I asked her what she wanted for Xmas, she said a handbag and gave me strict instructions, which I followed to the letter. She asked me what I wanted. I said "Nothing really just put a smile on my face". For about a week before Xmas, she kept dropping hints that the present would really put a big smile on my face. When it came to Xmas morning, I made her breakfast in bed and we exchanged presents. She was more than happy with the handbag, then handed me my present. The package was small and soft. I was puzzled, but opened it. Now when you read what happened next, you will probably conclude that I am just plain stupid. It was a very skimpy set of of black lingerie. It wasn't even my size! Having been told for weeks that it would put a smile on my face, I was completely baffled and extremely disappointed for about three seconds. She then grabbed them and put them on and said "Do you like them?". I then realised what the present was and was most happy, but for that three seconds I thought she'd got me them for me and I was confused as to why. It was actally a great present, I never confessed my true feelings as I opened it.
5. Listening to the "Heavy Dub" version of the track False Dub by The False Dots on the day after we'd mixed it. The band's first experiment with recorded reggae. We had a track called False Dub. It had originally been called "Man in a suit", but we proudly played it to a mate who was Jamaican ganga salesman and he said "What's that called? Falsedub". It seemed a far better name. We recorded it as part of a set of demo tracks in 1981 at Ray Randall from the Tornados studio in Colindale. I'd gone back with Paul Hircombe to remix them. We started playing around with sounds (under the influence of our Jamaican friends product). We ended up spending five hours fiddling around with it, putting all manner of strange echo effects and sounds on it. Ray ran off a cassette, which Paul took home. The next day, with a clear head, I went to Pauls to listen to it. It was awful. It made me realise that, contrary to what many musicians believe, having a clear head is the best way to make music. I realised I'd never really be a great dub music producer.
6. When I was confirmed by the local Bishop at The Sacred Heart Church in 1973. I was raised a Roman Catholic and I was very naive as a kid. I absolutely believed everything that I was told in Church and RE lessons. For Catholics, the key parts of your initiation into the church are Baptism, Holy Communion and Confirmation. Baptism is done when you are first born, you don't recall it. Communion was fun, you got a bit of blessed wafer (or the body of Christ depending on your viewpoint) put in your mouth by a priest, for the first time, then you have a party. When you are confirmed, a bishop turns up and fills you with the Holy Spirit. In our instruction, we were told how this happened to the Apostles of Jesus, they became able to speak any language, fiery tongues appeared above them. I must be stupid, but I genuinely believed that the I'd feel the Holy Spirit enter me and I'd become a superman. Needless to say, the Bishop laid his hands and nothing at all happened. I was as bad at French as I'd ever been. It actually had the opposite effect and made me cynical about the Church. I'd really wanted to be filled with the Holy Spirit. I realised that the Good Lord had set another path
7. The Isle of Skye. My sister would regularly visit the Isle of Skye in Scotland and spoke about it in mythical terms. When I first started going out with my missus Clare, we discussed going on holiday. Neither of us drove, but I suggested we could get a Scottish Rail Rover and spend a week touring Scotland. I made a list of all the places I wanted to visit. Edinburgh for the festival, John O'Groats, Loch Ness, Loch Lomond and The Isle of Skye. It was a lovely holiday, the festival was great, we didn't see Nessie, but it was fun. John O'Groats was amazing. We then went back to Inverness and got the train to the Kyle of Localsh, get a ferry to Skye, look around and then get a ferry back to Mallaig and get the train to Loch Lomond. We arrived in Skye and and it was raining incessently. It rained all day. The next day, it was sunny and we got eaten by midges as we waited for a bus. Then it started raining again. I really couldn't see what the fuss was about. I thought it would be a semi mystical experience, it was just a soggy damp squib.
8. Meeting Joe Corrigan at Wembley. Manchester City was my team. Goalkeeper Joe Corrigan was my absolute hero. I loved the man. I started playing in goal, mostly because I was too useless to play anywhere else, and Big Joe was my inspiration. When I was about 12 in 1974, I went to see England play. To my delight, Big Joe was standing by the tea stall. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. I walked up to him, with my match programme and said "Joe, I'm a City fan, you are my favourite player, can you sign my programme". All my mates watched jealously. He turned and said "No, F**k off and leave me alone". I was totally humiliated and upset. My mates thought it was hilarious. I've never asked anyone for an autograph since. It was also the moment that I gave up my dream of being a goalkeeper.
9. The leg of lamb curry at Canons Tandoori. My Brother Laurie told us that the best Indian Restaurant in the world was Canons Tandoori. He said there was a special dish, where they marinaded a leg of lamb for 24 hours and you had to order it specially. Dad liked the sound of it and we organised a family dinner there. We were all really looking forward to it. When it arrived, it didn't live up to the promise. It was not the best curry ever. It wasn't even the best leg of lamb, my Mum's were better. I'd dreamed that I'd discover something special and it just wasn't. Dad asked for the leftover lamb bones for Bruce The Beagle. The restaurant had been dark. When we got back, he took the lamb out and it was bright yellow. Bruce the Beagle turned his nose up at it, a first. Mum had the runs for three days. I have been back to Canons and it does a decent curry, but I've never had the leg of lamb again. In fact, I've always been sceptical about 'Specials' in Indian restaurants since.
10. My O level results. The final parting gift from my education at FCHS. The last few months of my education there was a disaster. The headmaster who we called Ned hated me. Just before we broke up for study leave, he caught me signing in for late arrival. He started to have a go at me. The conversation went like this
Ned "Tichborne, why are you late?"
Me: "I missed the bus sir"
Ned: ", No one else missed the bus, did they? I hope you don't think you will be coming back for the sixth form"
Me: "That's alright sir, I am leaving and getting a job"
Ned: "You won't be getting any jobs, I will make sure any reference you receive will be so bad that no one will employ you"
Me: "That's alright sir, I'm going to work in my Dad's car business, I don't need a reference".
Ned: "You think you are so clever, get out of my school and don't come back. You will not be d
oing your O'Levels, leave immediately. Do not speak to anyone on the premises and do not collect your belongings"
I was shocked. I did exactly what he said. I went back home, expecting to get the mother of all clobberings. My Dad's reaction was the opposite of what I expected. He asked me to tell him what happened. He was a big, fearsome man and he realised the implications of me not doing my O Levels. He'd also had a letter from John Shuttler, my physics teacher, who I liked, who had told him thatNed had it in for me and if got slung out, it would be a vindictive act. I didn't know of this until after.
Dad jumped in his motor, drove up to the school and stormed in to see Ned. I don't know what he said, but Ned agreed that I could attend the exams so long as I spoke to no one on the school premises. I always rather hoped that Dad put him up against the wall and told him he'd break his neck if he didn't, but it was equally likely to have been a donation to the school funds, and possibly both. I was really embarrassed about it back then, now I find it funny. Ned got the sack the year after I left as the exam grades had plummited.
It was all rather petty. My Dad was handed the contents of my desk. I took eight O Levels and failed four of them, including Maths. I had applied for a job with the Gas board, but that required a Maths O Level. I got turned down when I let them know. I was completely deflated. I decided to resit, and went to Orange Hill School, which was the best move I made, but at the time it was terrible and I felt my life had been ruined and my hopes dashed. In hindsight, it all worked out well.
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Disappointment and seeing your dreams shaattered is not much fun, but as a musician and a songwriter, it is a damn good source of inspiration. Here's your homework. Have a listen to this False Dots track and see if you can figure out which song is heavily influenced by two of the above disappointments.
At some point I'll add a comment to explain.
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