Rock and Roll Stories #21 - Personality crisis! The pleasure and peril of song writing partnerships

There have been 38 members of the False Dots (if I counted them correctly). The first two members were myself and Pete Conway, we were schoolmates from the age of four. We'd been talking about starting a band from the age of about eleven, but it was only when we discovered Punk Rock in 1976/7 that we had the inspiration to actually do something about it. We spent most of 1978 talking about it, saving up to buy instruments, learning to play some basic chords, writing a few rather rubbish songs. The first rehearsal was on 14th February 1979 (The band are celebrating our 46th birthday on Sunday 16th February at 2pm at the Dublin Castle - Please come, CLICK HERE FOR CHEAP ADVANCED TICKETS)

I last spoke to Pete in the early 1980's. Sadly our friendship did not survive the band. It ended the day he failed to turn up for our first gig, in December 1980. I couldn't believe it at the time. His excuse? He'd gone to the pub with his work mates and got pissed and forget to come. About ten years ago, we agreed to meet for lunch, but it never happened. My biggest regret about it? I actually thought Pete was a genius and would've been a great front man. The lyrics we wrote together and the songs he wrote for the band were amazing (once we'd got our act together). What was more difficult was the fact that we had a completely toxic relationship. I've not done too many things in life I truly regret, but most of them were when I was hanging around with Pete. I don't blame him, but we'd egg each other on to do behave badly. When Pete was in the band, everyone else was an outsider. We'd just order them what to play and go mad when they got it wrong.

The lyrics to some early songs

One of the biggest strengths of our song writing partnership was the totally ruthless criticism of each others work. Every single word of every single line was scrutinised. It all had to make sense. When one of us presented a song to the other, the other one would relentlessly critique it. We'd sing the song in a Pinky and Perky voice to annoy the writer. By the time we'd finished, the songs were robust and interesting. An enduring feature of the songs was that they had to tell a story. There could be no fat. Once we'd finished the lyrics, we'd start work on the music. As we were total novices and new nothing of music theory, structure of songs, etc, this was more problematic. The early band songs didn't have middle eights. We didn't know the rules for chord progressions so we'd do odd things. None of the songs were the usual 12 bar rock and roll riffs.  The verses often had clunky and disjointed musical bridges between verses and choruses. The good thing was this meant they didn't really sound like anyone else. When we listened to songs like Not All She Seems, we'd bung in extra guitar riffs to fill it out. When we first recorded Not All She Seems, we had a count in of eight on the drum sticks. Most bands have four and they chop it off when they edit the recording. We liked it. Where the whole thing rather broke down, was when Dav Davies and Paul Hircombe joined the band. They were better musicians than Pete & I. If we'd been a bit more savvy, we'd have listened to them. We did the opposite. We just expected them to play the songs how we told them to. 

And the note I added when I re-read them in 1980

After rehearsals, Pete and I would often go to the pub. We'd not invite Paul or Dav. Paul was only fourteen when he joined, so I guess he couldn't have come anyway. Dav was 22 and drove, so he probably wouldn't have come, but we never asked him. It wasn't a deliberate snub, it just never occurred to us to ask him. Sometimes we'd sit around after rehearsals and just chat, but not about the music. We'd wait until the rest of the band had gone home, then we'd rip into a song by song analysis of rehearsal. Often we'd ask mates down to listen. If they stayed after Paul and Dav had gone, we'd grill them on what they thought of the songs. Woe betide them, if they compared a song to a band we had disdain for. In hindsight, for some visitors, it must've been like going for dinner with a bunch of psychopathic serial killers. We were so intense about the band and the music that it was actually quite uncomfortable.

Then Pete lost interest. I booked the gig to try and pull him back, but it had the opposite effect. It caused a permanent breach. When Pete finally left the band, I felt a huge feeling of relief. We could be a band. The extent to which we'd not engaged with Paul and Dav was graphically demonstrated, when Craig Withecombe joined to replace Pete. We'd called Paul "Urcum" since he'd joined. Paul Marvin (HAnk Marvin's son, who had been the drummer before Dav) had introduced him. He'd called him "Urcum" and we'd stuck with that. I introduced Craig to Dav and "Urcum". Craig said "What's your name". Paul replied "Paul". Craig said "Would you rather be called Paul or Urcum"? Paul replied "Paul". I was horrified. He'd been in the band for six months. After that, he was Paul. About two years after Pete left, I bumped into him. We spent an evening in the pub (where he explained the reason for his no show). He enquired as to what was happening with the band. I said "Paul's doing great on bass". Pete replied "Who's Paul?". I replied "Urcum". Pete said "Oh, is that his name?".

When Craig joined, who was an excellent musician, he introduced us to the idea of structure in songs, chord progressions, harmonies and melodies. Pete and I had played lip service to the Velvet Underground ethos that none of that mattered and the perfect song was as simple as possible, no more than three chords. Craig, rather helpfully, pointed out that the Velvet Undergrounds best song (in his opinion) was Sweet Jane and it had four chords! He also pointed out that nearly all of the songs had four or more chords. Craig did concede that the songs worked and were interesting. Having better musicians really made a difference.

 Everyone could make a contribution. It took me a long time to find my feet writing songs on my own. I have all of my old lyrics and in truth, when Pete left, the quality of lyrics I was writing initially became awful for a while. When Pete had been in the band, the songs had to tell a story. I lost that. I was trying to impress people with my intellect. Oddly, the best song I wrote in the aftermath of Pete leaving was a song called Action Shock, based on the story of a mate, who was in the Royal Marines and had served in the invasion of the Falklands. I started work on it, put together a two chord progression that persists throughout the song and gave up, thinking it was rubbish. It would never had seen the light of day, had Venessa Sagoe not joined the band in 1983. I gave Venessa the lyric folder and asked if there was any she liked when she joined. She immediately picked Action Shock. She asked me to play it. I was embarrassed. It plodded along with an A minor - E minor progression. Venessa sang it and I realised it was a masterpiece. In fairness, if Venessa sung it, the phone book would be. But she added drama and substance and discovered a vibe that hadn't been there before. We still play it as the finale of the set. 

That was the moment that I felt the band recovered from the Personality Crisis that we'd been in since we formed. The healthiest thing both Pete and I could do was not be in a band together. One of the best things about The False Dots in 2025 is that Fil, Graham and Tom all fully contribute and work together to realise the full potential of the songs. Of course Pete and I were not Lennon & McCartney or Jagger and Richards, but the split in 1980 and the difficulty I had adjusting to write songs when our song writing partnership dissolved gave me a good insight into why their post Beatles work and the Stones solo projects are a pale reflection of their heyday in a partnership. When you don't have a totally belligerent, aggressive, sarcastic co writer saying "No, that's utter crap, go away and start again" is the best thing you can possibly have. Sadly, most people who work with the likes of the aforementioned artists simply said "Oh,that's brilliant Darling". It is only when the general public hear it, that the awful truth dawns on the artist. The horrible truth is that a band with a personality crisis is a band that is creative. It is also intolerable for any length of time and I salute Lennon/McCartney and Jagger/Richards for sticking it out as long as they did/have.

I thought I'd finish with the two songs I mentioned from the era.  This is Not All She Seems, as we play it now. The lyrics are the same. The musical structure has changed a bit.  We wrote it when we were sixteen in 1979. 

And this is Action Shock as we perform it now. It is pretty much identical to how we used to play it with Venessa. The song us utterly resistant to any form of re-arrangement!