Is there a pivotal moment in your life, when things changed forever. When the old you faded and the new you, the real you was born? The birth of the new me was a long pregnancy. The eggs were fertilised on the 6th June 1977, when I saw The Ramones, The Talking Heads and The Saints at The Roundhouse. I discovered music. It was a radical change in my life, I found a new group of friends, new interests. But most of all, I wanted to be in a band. There were four problems. The first was that I couldn't play, the second was I didn't have an instrument, the third was I had no mates who could play and the fourth was, we had nowhere to rehearse.
The first thing was to get a guitar and start learning to play. That was pretty easy. My sister had a black Columbus Les Paul copy. It looked great, but was almost unplayable and didn't stay in tune. But it was a guitar and so I started trying to learn chords. After seeeing The Ramones, I was chatting with a mate of mine (we were both alter servers at The Sacred Heart Church) and he told me he'd got into punk music. We had been mate since we were four and had even written songs together, sending them to glam rock mega stars Sparks, suggesting they needed a few decent songs, when we were 11 or 12. Needless to say, they weren't interested. But we agreed we'd learn to play. Pete didn't have any money or an instrument, but we decided he'd play bass. When he turned 16 in May 1978, he left school and got a job as a butcher at Dewhursts in Mill Hill. The aim was to get the money to buy a bass. Pete was an extremely bright guy and his Dad was horrified. But he was nothing of not strong minded. After a couple of months, Pete bought a bass and started learning it. We would sit in my bedroom every night, practising, writing songs, listening to punk rock and discussing politics. The Labour government of Jim Callaghan was falling apart.
I was kicked out of Finchley Catholic High School in May after a disagreement with the hedmaster Nick Kelly, flunking my O Levels, as a result of spending every night doing the above. Unlike Pete, I decided that I needed to get some O levels. In Augsut 1978, I turned 16. This meant I had access to my bank account. My Mum had set up an account for me. In the 1960's I'd been a child actor/model and earned a decent amount of money from TV commercials I'd appeared in. On the day I turned 16, I went down to Don Mackrills Music shop in Edgware and bought a Hofner Galaxy guitar and a Fal 50 watt amp. My parents were horrified, but they could do nothing. They concluded it was proof I was an idiot. My parents tried to persuade me to hand over the cash to them 'for safekeeping'. I politely declined. I had a plan! They then informed me that they needed the cash as they were planning to buy Bunns Lane Works, where my Dad had his car repair business. If they didn't raise the cash, someone else could buy the site, as the Landlord was selling and had given Dad first refusal. I reluctantly handed over the cash (and never saw it again! I have no regrets though). I informed my parents I would only do it, if I was given a share of the yard and my mum drew up an agreement, that stated that I had to be consulted on all decisions and had a share. I signed and I never saw that again. Apparently it was lodged with her solicitors, but hey ho.
In September 1978, I joined Orange Hill School to resit them. It was a pivotal moment. I met Boz Boorer, who was in The Polecats. They were a real band. It made me realise that being in a band wasn't a pie in the sky pipedream. If Boz could do it, so could we. There were two other bands at the school. My mate Joe Malone had a band with a guy called Steve Kutner, who would go on to be a football agent, managing Frank Lampard. Steve's uncle was Lord Levy, who owned Magnet Records. Steve got a job there, and signed Bad Manners and The Damned to the label! But when I joined he was the guitarist. Also in the band was Russell Smith, who was the younger brother of Graham Smith, Editor of The Face magazine. I can't recall what they were called, we always called them The Moje's. There was bad blood between Pete Conway and Joe Malone. Both were hot headed mavericks from solid Irish stock. They had a massive punch up, over who had been the first punk to wear bondage trousers in Mill Hill! I never really got the animosity, but they hated each other. The other band were The Rapids. A rythm and bliues band in the Doctor Feelgood mold.
By January 1979, my Dad had tired of Pete and me making a racket in my bedroom. He made an offer I couldn't refuse. When he bought the yard, there was a derelict caretakers cottage, I could rent it from him for £2 a week, to rehearse in. I did some maths, If I rented it, I could charge the Mojes and the Rapids £2 each to rehearse every week and make a profit! The only problem was that we only had my amp. Discussions were had. It was agreed that we'd form a collective, all pool our gear and they could rehearse once a week for £2.
In December 1978, we'd met a couple called Dave and Mandy at The Fall. Dave expressed an interest in drumming and Mandy in singing. Having sorted out the rehearsal space, we decided that we would have the first rehearsal and an opening party. We invited Dave and Mandy down to join the band, We also invited other friends, who had a band. We chose Valentines night, party because there was a girl I liked at school and thought it might lead to a romantic liaison. The only trouble was, we had an audience and had never actually played the songs. The other band came down and played a bunch of songs pretty well. We were absolute chaos. I don't think Dave had actually drummed before. He had two beats, Dave beat 1 and Dave beat 2. He told us that those were the only beats he knew, so Pete simply said "Start playing Dave beat one, and we'd join in. I had made a fuzz box from a design my former physics teacher John Shuttler at FCHS had given me. He'd given me a few bits. to get going. I couldn't afford the volume or attenuation pots, etc. So it was just on or off. It sounded like the devil, but suited the songs.
Although we were complete rubbish, it was probably the most true punk rock gig ever. No one really knew what to make of it. Pete decided that we'd spend the whole rehearsal with the lights off and standing on chairs. We drank copious tins of beer. It was gloriously bad, everything we did was awful, but somehow, it felt amazing. I realised that if we could be that bad and still be good, there was something there. Dave was highly embarrassed about the whole thing, and insisted we rehearse properly before we let people watch us again. I am not really saw what Pete thought, he was clever enough to maintain the pretence that it was brilliant. I am not sure I ever had that feeling since, but we knew we had to be a million times better before we could gig. But we had done it. Both Mill HilL Music Complex and The False Dots were born today. Both are still going. I am not sure if I'd even be here if that hadn't happened.
Here is the story of 1979 as I wrote it in my Scrapbook at the time
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Today, I am going to Portugal to mix and master our new album. It will be called We don't live in America and will feature a song called Wrong, which was the first song we played at our first rehearsal, albiet a slightly different arrangement.
Is there a pivotal moment in your life, when things changed forever. When the old you faded and the new you, the real you was born? The birth of the new me was a long pregnancy. The eggs were fertilised on the 6th June 1977, when I saw The Ramones, The Talking Heads and The Saints at The Roundhouse. I discovered music. It was a radical change in my life, I found a new group of friends, new interests. But most of all, I wanted to be in a band. There were four problems. The first was that I couldn't play, the second was I didn't have an instrument, the third was I had no mates who could play and the fourth was, we had nowhere to rehearse.
The first thing was to get a guitar and start learning to play. That was pretty easy. My sister had a black Columbus Les Paul copy. It looked great, but was almost unplayable and didn't stay in tune. But it was a guitar and so I started trying to learn chords. After seeeing The Ramones, I was chatting with a mate of mine (we were both alter servers at The Sacred Heart Church) and he told me he'd got into punk music. We had been mate since we were four and had even written songs together, sending them to glam rock mega stars Sparks, suggesting they needed a few decent songs, when we were 11 or 12. Needless to say, they weren't interested. But we agreed we'd learn to play. Pete didn't have any money or an instrument, but we decided he'd play bass. When he turned 16 in May 1978, he left school and got a job as a butcher at Dewhursts in Mill Hill. The aim was to get the money to buy a bass. Pete was an extremely bright guy and his Dad was horrified. But he was nothing of not strong minded. After a couple of months, Pete bought a bass and started learning it. We would sit in my bedroom every night, practising, writing songs, listening to punk rock and discussing politics. The Labour government of Jim Callaghan was falling apart.
I was kicked out of Finchley Catholic High School in May after a disagreement with the hedmaster Nick Kelly, flunking my O Levels, as a result of spending every night doing the above. Unlike Pete, I decided that I needed to get some O levels. In Augsut 1978, I turned 16. This meant I had access to my bank account. My Mum had set up an account for me. In the 1960's I'd been a child actor/model and earned a decent amount of money from TV commercials I'd appeared in. On the day I turned 16, I went down to Don Mackrills Music shop in Edgware and bought a Hofner Galaxy guitar and a Fal 50 watt amp. My parents were horrified, but they could do nothing. They concluded it was proof I was an idiot. My parents tried to persuade me to hand over the cash to them 'for safekeeping'. I politely declined. I had a plan! They then informed me that they needed the cash as they were planning to buy Bunns Lane Works, where my Dad had his car repair business. If they didn't raise the cash, someone else could buy the site, as the Landlord was selling and had given Dad first refusal. I reluctantly handed over the cash (and never saw it again! I have no regrets though). I informed my parents I would only do it, if I was given a share of the yard and my mum drew up an agreement, that stated that I had to be consulted on all decisions and had a share. I signed and I never saw that again. Apparently it was lodged with her solicitors, but hey ho.
In September 1978, I joined Orange Hill School to resit them. It was a pivotal moment. I met Boz Boorer, who was in The Polecats. They were a real band. It made me realise that being in a band wasn't a pie in the sky pipedream. If Boz could do it, so could we. There were two other bands at the school. My mate Joe Malone had a band with a guy called Steve Kutner, who would go on to be a football agent, managing Frank Lampard. Steve's uncle was Lord Levy, who owned Magnet Records. Steve got a job there, and signed Bad Manners and The Damned to the label! But when I joined he was the guitarist. Also in the band was Russell Smith, who was the younger brother of Graham Smith, Editor of The Face magazine. I can't recall what they were called, we always called them The Moje's. There was bad blood between Pete Conway and Joe Malone. Both were hot headed mavericks from solid Irish stock. They had a massive punch up, over who had been the first punk to wear bondage trousers in Mill Hill! I never really got the animosity, but they hated each other. The other band were The Rapids. A rythm and bliues band in the Doctor Feelgood mold.
By January 1979, my Dad had tired of Pete and me making a racket in my bedroom. He made an offer I couldn't refuse. When he bought the yard, there was a derelict caretakers cottage, I could rent it from him for £2 a week, to rehearse in. I did some maths, If I rented it, I could charge the Mojes and the Rapids £2 each to rehearse every week and make a profit! The only problem was that we only had my amp. Discussions were had. It was agreed that we'd form a collective, all pool our gear and they could rehearse once a week for £2.
In December 1978, we'd met a couple called Dave and Mandy at The Fall. Dave expressed an interest in drumming and Mandy in singing. Having sorted out the rehearsal space, we decided that we would have the first rehearsal and an opening party. We invited Dave and Mandy down to join the band, We also invited other friends, who had a band. We chose Valentines night, party because there was a girl I liked at school and thought it might lead to a romantic liaison. The only trouble was, we had an audience and had never actually played the songs. The other band came down and played a bunch of songs pretty well. We were absolute chaos. I don't think Dave had actually drummed before. He had two beats, Dave beat 1 and Dave beat 2. He told us that those were the only beats he knew, so Pete simply said "Start playing Dave beat one, and we'd join in. I had made a fuzz box from a design my former physics teacher John Shuttler at FCHS had given me. He'd given me a few bits. to get going. I couldn't afford the volume or attenuation pots, etc. So it was just on or off. It sounded like the devil, but suited the songs.
Although we were complete rubbish, it was probably the most true punk rock gig ever. No one really knew what to make of it. Pete decided that we'd spend the whole rehearsal with the lights off and standing on chairs. We drank copious tins of beer. It was gloriously bad, everything we did was awful, but somehow, it felt amazing. I realised that if we could be that bad and still be good, there was something there. Dave was highly embarrassed about the whole thing, and insisted we rehearse properly before we let people watch us again. I am not really saw what Pete thought, he was clever enough to maintain the pretence that it was brilliant. I am not sure I ever had that feeling since, but we knew we had to be a million times better before we could gig. But we had done it. Both Mill HilL Music Complex and The False Dots were born today. Both are still going. I am not sure if I'd even be here if that hadn't happened.
Here is the story of 1979 as I wrote it in my Scrapbook at the time
Today, I am going to Portugal to mix and master our new album. It will be called We don't live in America and will feature a song called Wrong, which was the first song we played at our first rehearsal, albiet a slightly different arrangement.
Is there a pivotal moment in your life, when things changed forever. When the old you faded and the new you, the real you was born? The birth of the new me was a long pregnancy. The eggs were fertilised on the 6th June 1977, when I saw The Ramones, The Talking Heads and The Saints at The Roundhouse. I discovered music. It was a radical change in my life, I found a new group of friends, new interests. But most of all, I wanted to be in a band. There were four problems. The first was that I couldn't play, the second was I didn't have an instrument, the third was I had no mates who could play and the fourth was, we had nowhere to rehearse.
The first thing was to get a guitar and start learning to play. That was pretty easy. My sister had a black Columbus Les Paul copy. It looked great, but was almost unplayable and didn't stay in tune. But it was a guitar and so I started trying to learn chords. After seeeing The Ramones, I was chatting with a mate of mine (we were both alter servers at The Sacred Heart Church) and he told me he'd got into punk music. We had been mate since we were four and had even written songs together, sending them to glam rock mega stars Sparks, suggesting they needed a few decent songs, when we were 11 or 12. Needless to say, they weren't interested. But we agreed we'd learn to play. Pete didn't have any money or an instrument, but we decided he'd play bass. When he turned 16 in May 1978, he left school and got a job as a butcher at Dewhursts in Mill Hill. The aim was to get the money to buy a bass. Pete was an extremely bright guy and his Dad was horrified. But he was nothing of not strong minded. After a couple of months, Pete bought a bass and started learning it. We would sit in my bedroom every night, practising, writing songs, listening to punk rock and discussing politics. The Labour government of Jim Callaghan was falling apart.
I was kicked out of Finchley Catholic High School in May after a disagreement with the hedmaster Nick Kelly, flunking my O Levels, as a result of spending every night doing the above. Unlike Pete, I decided that I needed to get some O levels. In Augsut 1978, I turned 16. This meant I had access to my bank account. My Mum had set up an account for me. In the 1960's I'd been a child actor/model and earned a decent amount of money from TV commercials I'd appeared in. On the day I turned 16, I went down to Don Mackrills Music shop in Edgware and bought a Hofner Galaxy guitar and a Fal 50 watt amp. My parents were horrified, but they could do nothing. They concluded it was proof I was an idiot. My parents tried to persuade me to hand over the cash to them 'for safekeeping'. I politely declined. I had a plan! They then informed me that they needed the cash as they were planning to buy Bunns Lane Works, where my Dad had his car repair business. If they didn't raise the cash, someone else could buy the site, as the Landlord was selling and had given Dad first refusal. I reluctantly handed over the cash (and never saw it again! I have no regrets though). I informed my parents I would only do it, if I was given a share of the yard and my mum drew up an agreement, that stated that I had to be consulted on all decisions and had a share. I signed and I never saw that again. Apparently it was lodged with her solicitors, but hey ho.
In September 1978, I joined Orange Hill School to resit them. It was a pivotal moment. I met Boz Boorer, who was in The Polecats. They were a real band. It made me realise that being in a band wasn't a pie in the sky pipedream. If Boz could do it, so could we. There were two other bands at the school. My mate Joe Malone had a band with a guy called Steve Kutner, who would go on to be a football agent, managing Frank Lampard. Steve's uncle was Lord Levy, who owned Magnet Records. Steve got a job there, and signed Bad Manners and The Damned to the label! But when I joined he was the guitarist. Also in the band was Russell Smith, who was the younger brother of Graham Smith, Editor of The Face magazine. I can't recall what they were called, we always called them The Moje's. There was bad blood between Pete Conway and Joe Malone. Both were hot headed mavericks from solid Irish stock. They had a massive punch up, over who had been the first punk to wear bondage trousers in Mill Hill! I never really got the animosity, but they hated each other. The other band were The Rapids. A rythm and bliues band in the Doctor Feelgood mold.
By January 1979, my Dad had tired of Pete and me making a racket in my bedroom. He made an offer I couldn't refuse. When he bought the yard, there was a derelict caretakers cottage, I could rent it from him for £2 a week, to rehearse in. I did some maths, If I rented it, I could charge the Mojes and the Rapids £2 each to rehearse every week and make a profit! The only problem was that we only had my amp. Discussions were had. It was agreed that we'd form a collective, all pool our gear and they could rehearse once a week for £2.
In December 1978, we'd met a couple called Dave and Mandy at The Fall. Dave expressed an interest in drumming and Mandy in singing. Having sorted out the rehearsal space, we decided that we would have the first rehearsal and an opening party. We invited Dave and Mandy down to join the band, We also invited other friends, who had a band. We chose Valentines night, party because there was a girl I liked at school and thought it might lead to a romantic liaison. The only trouble was, we had an audience and had never actually played the songs. The other band came down and played a bunch of songs pretty well. We were absolute chaos. I don't think Dave had actually drummed before. He had two beats, Dave beat 1 and Dave beat 2. He told us that those were the only beats he knew, so Pete simply said "Start playing Dave beat one, and we'd join in. I had made a fuzz box from a design my former physics teacher John Shuttler at FCHS had given me. He'd given me a few bits. to get going. I couldn't afford the volume or attenuation pots, etc. So it was just on or off. It sounded like the devil, but suited the songs.
Although we were complete rubbish, it was probably the most true punk rock gig ever. No one really knew what to make of it. Pete decided that we'd spend the whole rehearsal with the lights off and standing on chairs. We drank copious tins of beer. It was gloriously bad, everything we did was awful, but somehow, it felt amazing. I realised that if we could be that bad and still be good, there was something there. Dave was highly embarrassed about the whole thing, and insisted we rehearse properly before we let people watch us again. I am not really saw what Pete thought, he was clever enough to maintain the pretence that it was brilliant. I am not sure I ever had that feeling since, but we knew we had to be a million times better before we could gig. But we had done it. Both Mill HilL Music Complex and The False Dots were born today. Both are still going. I am not sure if I'd even be here if that hadn't happened.
Here is the story of 1979 as I wrote it in my Scrapbook at the time
Today, I am going to Portugal to mix and master our new album. It will be called We don't live in America and will feature a song called Wrong, which was the first song we played at our first rehearsal, albiet a slightly different arrangement.
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