Rock and Roll Stories #81 - White Light/White Heat

The False Dots next gig

 The Velvet Underground. The proto punk band? Where it all started? One of the biggest influences on my early tastes in music was my eldest brother Laurie. He signposted many bands and artists to me and when I started playing guitar, showed me a few tricks (most of which became the foundation of my playing style). He had a wide taste in music and a record collection to die for. Laurie is far more intelligent than me and he was very open to anything that he thought was interesting. He played in a band that performed traditional Irish music, when he was at school studying to be a priest. When he discovered psychedlic music and culture, he got into things like Pink Floyd, Country Joe and The Fish and The Electric Prunes. 

When I told him I was into punk, he said "Oh that all started with The Velvet Underground" and lent me a compilation abum of their tracks. I was quite intrigued. It was unlike anything else in his collection. The band went from sheer noise to the tenderest of love songs, but all had a dark edge. There was something indefineably interesting about them. Oddly, although I loved supercharged punk, with them it was the softer songs, many with Nico singing that really did it for me. In many ways, it was as much the forerrunner of Indie pop as punk. Jangly pop songs about being ravaged by heroin, wrapped up in a sugar coated topping worked for me. 

Around that time in 1978/80, I did a lot of babysitting for Laurie and my mate Pete, who I was putting the band together with would come along to keep me company. Laurie would buy us a bottle of cider and tell us to play records, so long as we didn't wake up the kids. When we hearad The Velvet Underground, we both agreed this was the way to go. Dark edged songs, that had very poppy overtones. We decided that we'd overdub an acoustic guitars to give it that feel.  I don't know what people were expecting, but it certainly wasn't what they heard. I guess as cunning plans go, trying to sound like one of the least commercially successful bands of all time is not the best. But for us it was a liberation. We were no longer trying to sound like every other punk band and it gave us a degree of freedom lyrically that had disappeared from punk.

It is odd how many people cite the Velvet Underground as an influence, but clearly never really listened to them. We'd occasionally see bands do covers of VU songs, but invariably if it was a rock band it will be heroin, or occasionally White Light/White Heat. These days there are some cracking covers (check out this article) but I used to find it depressing that people didn't see beyond the obvious. 

When the False Dots did our tour of Sweden, we needed to add extra songs to the set. We decided to do  a VU song. We decided on Sweet Jane. Paul Hircombe suggested i, because his girlfriend was called Jane. By th time we got it together, he'd left her for a girl called Christine. It's a great song. We did a version of it at a bikers rally in 1982. A huge biker made eye contact with me at the back of the hall. He looked terrifying. He marched up to me and put a large spliff in my mouth. After the gig, he told me it was his favourite song. His wife was Jane and she'd recently passed away. He hadn't been expecting to hear it. He told me that for a moment, she was with him, holding his hand as we played. It was, perhaps, the moment that I truly realised that music is spiritual. 

The False Dots had many influences over the years. When we first started concieving the band, I think we envisaged a cross between Wire (Pink Flag era) and Anarcho punk band Crass. "Wrong", from our last album is the best recorded example of this era. I then discovered 2 Tone and The Specials. I really wanted that sort of set up, but we didn't know any brass players. We expermented with Reggae but  it sounded wrong. When we discovered the Velvet Underground. we realised that it was within our capabilities to achieve that sound. I was never into their worship of narcotics, but there is no dount Lou Reed and John Cale were musical geniuses.

I could never really figure out the total lack of commercial success of the VU. Perhaps that is why the False Dots never acheived a mass following.  Lou Reed eventually received the recognition for his talents when David Bowie produced Transformer. It may be the best aalbum ever made. It is truly awesome. People started revisiting his earlier work. Punk artists were especially keen to explore the back catalogue. This was partly because when the punk movement started, there were no records. You had to see the bands to find out what they sounded like. Actually having something you could listen to at home was rare, so obscure bands like the VU, who shared the nihilism and minimalism of punk were influential. Another band in this genre were the Stooges, but they were far more a rock and roll band. The VU were far darker and deeper. 

In 1980, we had a meeting with an A&R guy at a major record company and played our demos. He asked about our influences, when we mentioned the VU, he said "Have you actually listened to them? Have you heard 'waiting for the man'. I replied  "Actually we were going for the vibe of beginning to see the light", he was bemused. I guess that quoting an obscure album track from a commercially unsuccessful band was not going to win any arguments. But for me, it was what we wanted to sound like. 

Last night, The False Dots rehearsed our set for our next gig at "The Camden Rocks Festival". We will be doing a slightly different set and we will be doing one of our 1980 tracks, Not all She Seems, which was perhaps the song most influence by The Velvet Underground. The song has had many incarnations, and is probably the song the band have played most times live (I have no record of this though). As I was playing it, I recall sitting in my bedroom with Pete who I formed the band with, working out the chords and lyrics. I never imagined I'd still be playing it 46 years later. We wrote it to be as shocking as possible, very influenced by the VU and Lou Reeds obsession with people of a non binary sexual orientation. It was based on a conversation we had with trans prostitute, who told us they'd been sleeping with a Tory MP for cash. We used to see the said individual at gigs, then one day they disappeared off the face of the earth. A mutual friend said "She met someone she used to know, she packed her bags, she had to go". We assumed it was a violent pimp she'd been trying to escape from.

I think that it stands up well for a song written 46 years ago. It is funny to think that without the VU, it wouldn't be there.

Rock and Roll Stories #80 - The perfect mix or too much egg in the pudding

Our next gig

Ever since day 1 of the False Dots, I've been on a mission to have the perfect band. This doesn't mean I wanted Jimi Hendrix, Debbie Harry, Keith Moon et all in the band. I wanted the perfect band to play the noise that was going around my head. That is a very different thing. When we started, it was very much a case of simply getting anyone we could to get going. In a strange sort of way, that was the perfect band for where we were. It meant we could develop our ideas of what a band should be and find our own direction, without someone who "knew the ropes" corralling us in a  direction we didn't want to go, before we actually knew what we wanted.

It took over a year to get to the point where I felt we were sort of ready to be unleashed on the world. We got Alan Warner of The Foundations down, as we wanted to record and sought his advice as to whether we were ready. Alan suggested we get a new drummer who could play in time and suggested a mate, Dav Davies. When Dav joined, we suddenly started to sound like the noise in my head. Recording in 1980 was expensive, but we were ambitious. Our first demo was good, but the band started to fracture. Pete, the co founder left, I recruited a new guitarist, Craig and Paul Hircombe moved to bass. Pete then decided he was coming back and so took over on vocals. On the day of our first gig, he didn't bother to show. It was a baptism of fire, but was the best thing that could happen. We felt that having got through that, we could get through anything. A second demo was done, it was a massive step up. However, all it really did was inform me of what we could do. Paul Hircombe got it. Craig didn't, but he'd go along with it. 

After our tour of Sweden, we decided that we'd try and get a deal. Paul suggested that we get a female singer and a better drummer. We did. The band sounded amazing, but it really wasn't the sound in my head anyomore. It was sort of a bit like Blondie, but I'd learned a lesson. If you want a specific sound, then you need the right person, not just one who could do the job. The singer departed with Craig and the drummer. I had decided to simplify the sound, strip it back and I met Venessa Sagoe, who was an amazing singer. We got Adam Francis on drums, he was a very metronmic drummer, no frills. Ideal for what I wanted. We then added keyboard player Chris Potts. The band was exactly what I had wanted.  They could play anything, Venessa was a brilliant performer. It had taken four years, but we'd got there. I thought we had the perfect mix, but something happened that I hadn't really expected. I found it was getting harder to bring new ideas and songs to the band and get them to be played how I felt they should. We were an amazing band, but as the new members settled in, they wanted more and more of a say over everything. This was not unreasonable, but I felt that not everything they were suggesting was particularly helpful or good. I think the moment when it became difficult was when Chris joined. He was a superb musician, but he had a different vision to me of what a band should be, Neither of us was wrong, but Chris lacked the drive to run a band, but he had lots of things he was not happy with. As he was a great musician, it became harder and harder to argue my case. In hindsight, I realise that before he joined, we had a perfect mix.I thought Chris was the final ingredient, but in truth, it was just a bit too much sugar in the mix. The problem was that Chris was too much of a perfectionist. I am not. Chris would be upset if the band played bum notes at gigs. I didn't care so long as we went down a storm, 

What happened was we lost momentum. Because Chris was a perfectionist, everyone started to question everything. Although Chris was technically right that the songs could be better, we'd played a sol out Dingwalls just before he joined and blown the doors off it. The highlight of the set was Action Shock that was just two chords repeated all of the way through. It's secret was that it was simple. It took me a very long time to realise that our secret weapon was always the simplicity. It worked for the Ramones, it worked for us. Whenever we tried to make things more musically complicated or cleverer, it became dull. 

The experience with Chris was difficult for me. He was a lovely bloke, did a great job and was absolutely committed to making The False Dots a better band. However it changed the dynamic and although we were musically better, we lost momentum and within six months it had all fallen apart. I must add that at the time Chris joined, we also took on a manager, who did nothing and caused all sorts of issues. It also didn't help that I was sharing a house with Venessa and Bill and I am the worlds worst housemate. By the time we split, they were well and truly sick of me. But creatively, the change of dynamic made it impossible to write and develop songs in the way we had. Since the start of the band, the way we've developed songs has been the same. I'd sketch out some chords and the lyrics and we'd play them through as a band. Once we had a basic structure, we'd work on refining them. Chris thought we should work them our before we played them as a band and get all manner of fancy bits in. Recently, I was given a video of the band playing live at The Bald Faced Stag in Burnt Oak. It was the full set. As we were playing a local pub, there were a few covers, the songs we'd been playing for ages and a couple of the new songs we'd written with Chris. I was struck by the fact that although the songs were more complicated, they lacked the hooks and energy that the older songs had. Perhaps the most interesting thing of all was that I simply had no memory of them at all.  I have always believed that the 1984 version of The False Dots was brilliant and should have been signed. I think getting Chris in at the time was the right thing, it was a tragedy we couldn't make it work. Watching the video of Venessa performing only reinforces that. Here is Action Shock with her at the Bald Faced Stag. 

Fast forward to 2026. The False Dots are still going. We are now a five piece band. This time last year, we added Derek Treadwell. Derek plays percussion and does backing vocals. It adds a new dimension to the sound. I've always believed that percussion is a secret weapon. A tambourine or wood block can lift a chorus, and having a bit more vocal welly on choruses makes a huge difference. Since I took over main vocal duties from Allen Ashley in 2021, I've become increasingly more aware that it is restricting playing guitar and singing. It is hard to be as expressive as I'd like to be as a singer. I have thought about either getting another guitarist, or getting a bassist and switching Fil back to guitar. However, I am also well aware of the risks of putting too much egg in the pudding.

My advice to any young bands and musicians, who think they need to "develop their sound" by adding extra band members is to ask yourself whether the band has momentum and if you are still finding inspiration. If you are, then be very wary of disrupting it. The False Dots played at Nambucca last week. We played a brand new song called Cut Priced Hedonism. I am rather happy with it! Mind you, it would probably sound better with Chris's keyboards on!

Rock and Roll Stories #79 - Why I still love being in a band

 It's issue 79 of this series. My band, The False Dots started in 1979! So I thought I'd mark this episode with a few tales that tell the story of why I love being in a band. Until the 6th June 1977, I never saw even considered being a musician. The Choir mistress at The Sacred Heart told me I was tone deaf and totally unmusical. My then favourite artists were people like Bowie and Bolan, who seemed to me to be impossibly glamourous. I couldn't imagine walking down the street dressed as Ziggy Stardust. I'd picked up my sisters guitar a couple of times and couldn't get a chord out of it, let alone a tune. I thought I was destined for other things. 

Then I saw the Ramones at The Roundhouse. They weren't mythical, elfin creature playing mind bogglingly complex masterpieces. They wore jeans, t-shirts, sneakers and leather jackets and played short, simple songs. For the first time in my life, I saw someone doing something I loved and I thought I could do it. When I bought their albums, it was a revelation. Music could be simple, raw and angry, but still be a thing of great beauty. When I met like minded people who thought the same thing, I realised that I wanted to be in a band. I didn't want to write complex masterpieces like Bohemian Rhapsody. I didn't want to play ten minute guitar solos. I just wanted to play high energy music that I could relate to. When I saw The Specials at the Lyceum, supporting The Damned and The UK Subs, in my head the final piece of the jigsaw was found and the picture was complete. Although the Ramones were brilliant, they were American. Although their songs were brilliant, I couldn't really relate to most of them. With the Specials, their songs were all about the subjects I wanted to write about. Ian Dury was another huge influence. His style of writing, bringing characters and situations to life appealed to me. 

I knew that if I could get a band that encompassed all of the elements of the music of these, it would be brilliant. I have never been interested in playing mega gigs. I wanted to play smaller venues and get to know the people who came to see us. We realised that the way to build an audience is to be entertaining. My punk ethos meant that I didn't really earn to play guitar with any great degree of technical accomplishment. As I've never really enjoyed long solo's, I saw no reason to learn to play them. 

From the first moments that The False Dots played our first song, in our first rehearsal, I felt a magical energy flow through me. It was a buzz. I never dreamed that 47 years later, I would get that same feeling when we get together. We have a gig next Friday at Nambucca on the Holloway Road. It is a free entry gig and we're playing with an amazing reggae/ska band called The Monoversals. We had a rehearsal of our set on Wednesday. We are playing a brand new song, called Moderately Priced Hedonism. It is probably the fastest song we've ever played. Tom, our trumpet player loves it and reckons it sounds like The Fratellis. I sing the first verse and Tom sings the rest of it. To me, it is reminscent of Sweet Gene Vincent by Ian Dury and The Blockheads, although I doubt too many people will think that. When we played it, I was really buzzing. 

There are times when being in a band is, for me, the absolute affirmation of life. It is the most fun you can have with your clothes on. I like to think that the people who come and see us have a real blast. There are very few things I can say with absolute certainty in life, but one thing I can say uniquivocally is that without The False Dots, my life would have been infinitely worse. The best thing though is that, unlike football, there is no downside to loving music. There  is no VAR where you find out a piece of brilliance counts for nothing. There is no financial fair play. Your favourite band does not get relegated. You can listen to song you love a thousand times and still enjoy it. But best of all, you will always find something new and exciting. 

So why not come along on Friday 16th and see what all the fuss is about. It is free to get in and the beer is cheap at Nambucca. It is five minutes walk from Archway Tube on the Northern Line.

Rock and Roll Stories #78 - How hard can it be to write a few songs and play em to a few mates?

Pic courtesy of  plainorpan.com/tag/guitar-chords/

This is where it all started for me. Well that is not entirely true, I never bought this edition, owned a copy or even saw one at the time, but every young punk rocker knew about it. Sniffin' Glue was the primal punk fanzine, edited by the legendary Mark Perry  The ethos of punk was that you didn't need to be Jimi Hendrix to get a band together and make great music. You just needed to know a few chords and off you went. 

When I saw the Ramones in 1977, I knew what I wanted to do with my life. I got into punk and all everyone said was "you just need to learn a few chords on the guitar and you can get a band together. My sister had a Columbus Les Paul copy and my brother had a copy of "Play in a day" by Bert Weedon (in 1977, the only guitar tuition book). I got it and started to try and play the chords. The first song? When the Saints go marching in. The second, the rather racist ditty "The old folks at home". Mark P put easy chords in Sniffin' glue. Bert Weedon put difficult chords (for me) such as F in. As I didn't really want to play "When the Saints go Marching in", I moved straight onto the "Old folks at home".  I didn't really bother to read the lyrics, I just spent hours trying to strum the chords. I'd never heard the song, which didn't help. Now, I never start to learn a song until I've got the melody and structure in my head. It may sound pretty basic, but I had no clue.

My band mate Pete told me that the chords A, E and G were easier to play, and had been on the front of Sniffin' glue. The second song we wrote was called "Political warning". It started with me strumming the intro to "The old folks at home" for a couple of bars. We then stopped and Pete screams "Politics, it's OK for the old folks at home" and we went into and  E A G progression. The lyrics were a diatribe against everytthing the we saw was going on that was wrong in Britain. The Labour government of Jim Callaghan was in its dying days, Thatcher was leader of the opposition, but it seemed unlikely (to me) that she'd win. Pete and I believed that old people had it cushy. We had mass unemployment. the country was going down the pan, the National Front were pushing racism (which we fundamentally opposed), and we felt that as the Pistols had said "There is no future, in Englands dreaming". It is almost funny, if it wasn't tragic, that young people today feel the same. I thought I'd never own a house or have a decent job in 1979 when the band formed. To me, the band was the only way out of the mess I saw myself to be in. 

When we were writing our first songs, in late 1978/early 1979, they were very nihilistic, but accurataty summed up the way we felt. But we passionately believed that we could put a great band together. How hard could it be? Pete bought a bass guitar, I bought an amp and we sat in my bedroom every night practising and writing songs. The first challenge was to get a drummer. We went to see The Fall at the Electric Ballroom and met Dave Edwards and his girlfriend Mandy Spokes. We met a few times and we had our first reheasal on 14th Feb 1979. By then, we had seven or eight songs. We thought that it would be simple to get them into shape to do a gig. We started frantically rehearsing. Dave was older than us and had a job. Although Dave was keen, he was a complete novice. He'd not had lessons. The joke was that he only knew two beats, which we called Dave beat 1 and Dave beat 2. We'd just tell him which of these to play and what tempo to play them at. 

All of the songs were pretty dodgy and we were pretty bad at playing them. We decided that Pete should sing all of the songs. Pete was mates with Charlie Harper of the UK Subs and we blagged a gig supporting them in Derby. We also blagged an interview with a fanzine called Xpert-I. We felt it was happening. Three weeks before the gig, disaster struck. Dave and Mandy were returning from a rehearsal and three idiots ambusged Dave and threw him through the window of WH Smiths, then when he ran away, they threw him through the window of a Jeweller. Dave was seriously injured. The gig was off. We did the interview with Xpert-I. Pete was drunk and obnoxious, and the interview was a hatched job "The only thing more immature than their music is their sense of humour". The band fell apart. 

At the time, I felt that we'd been deluded. We'd all fallen out big time. I desperately wanted to be in a band, so I joined a covers band on bass (Pete had left his bass at my house and as we weren't talking, he hadn't come to get it). The band were playing songs like "Teenage Kicks" by The Undertones and "Help" by The Beatles. It was the last thing I wanted to do, but I was playing with people who could play and it sounded a million times better. At Xmas, I bumped into Pete. We agreed to give it another go, but do it properly. We junked all of the songs and started again, I quit the covers band. It had been a huge learning curve, but I actually had the tools I needed to make The False Dots a proper band. By the end of the year, Pete had gone and we had pretty good line up. 

How hard was it? A million times harder than I dreamed when we started. You have to just keep plugging away. But the band did. And our next gig is on Friday 16th October at Nambucca on the Holloway Road, near Archway. It should be a blast. 

On Monday I was a guest on the Griff Griffiths show on Rock Radio UK. I told a couple of stories about the early days of the False Dots and played a couple of tracks from our new album. Have a listen

www.mixcloud.com/GriffGriffiths/griff-rocks-280926-roger-tichborne-andy-last-jen-brown-o-drag-mp3/

Rock and Roll Stories #77 - Five great bands for £3!

 Over 46 years ago, I went to this gig >>>>>

Can you guess which band I went to see? I will retirn to that in a minute. Not bad value for £3 was it?  I asked AI how much £3 in 1980 is worth at todays prices? The answer - £3 in 1980 is worth about £16.70 today due to cumulative inflation - That is only slightly more than you'd pay to see The False Dots at the Dublin Castle today and you got five bands! 

To give some context, Echo and the Bunnymen hadn't had any hits, but had been on the John Peel show and were being touted as the next big thing, as were Psychedelic Furs and The Teardrop Explodes. All had had singles, which hadn't really bothered the charts, but all were being heavily touted by the NME. As the billing indicates, A Certain Ratio were slightly less well known. The band I went to see were Manicured Noise, an obscure Manchester Band that I'd started following. I was delighted with this line up as I was curious about all of the bands (rightly so it would seem). 

I was 17 at the time. I'd probably already seen 200 bands at this point, as I'd try and go to a couple of gigs a week if I could. We were really spoiled for choice. Many of the line ups had three or four amazing bands. The first punk gig I went to was The Ramones, Talking Heads and The Saints in 1977, That was £2. It was never an easy choice. Every weekend, it seemed there'd be 2-3 gigs featuring bands I'd like to see. 

On the night of The Lyceu gig, I could've gone to the Marq uee in London to see Robert Smith of the Cure with a side project called "The Cult Hero". If I'd gone to DIngwalls, it would've been Eddie and The Hot Rods and The Members. Stiff Little Fingers were playing at the Hammersmith Odeon. Most of my Orange Hill mates went to The Torrington to see 9 Below Zero. My mates who were into Reggae were at the Venue for the legendary Prince Far I and Creation Rebel (who use my studios).  

There is a brilliant resource thatt has all of the copies of NME digitised, which is where I got the listing on the left  - Check it out archive.org/search?query=creator%3A%22NME+-+New+Musical+Express%22&page=2&sort=-addeddate&and%5B%5D=year%3A%221980%22 

For me, this is fascinating. There are so many gigs that totally fascinate me. The listings and the ads are a treasure trove. You may wonder what sparked this off? Last night I went to see Echo and The Bunnymeny at Regents park Theatre. It reminded me of the first time I saw them and prompted the deep dive. At the time, my band, The False Dots hadn't even done a gig. It was bands like this that gave us inspiration, watching the rise and grow. 

Just over a year later, The False Dots name appeared in the Gig listings of the NME for the very first time. We thought we'd hit the big time. See if you can spot us (A clue - look for London Hendon). To me, at the time, The NME seemed like the Bible. It is bizarre for me to find that The False Dots outlived the printed copy of the NME although there is still a website. 

I spent my last years at school with my head buried in the music papers. Within about five years, there was nothing in it I was interested in. That is how the music industry moves. It is aimed at 13-21 year olds, there is a constant churn of fashions, trends and fads. The NME was the bible for teenagers with pretentions of bing hip and cool. The key element though was that one day you were the king of the castle and a year later no one wanted to know, or at least that was the view of the industry.

However, the bands that stuck with it, or came back and reformed found that the audience was still there. That is why I was at the gig last night. Today, a mate said to me "Why aren't young people interested in live music and bands in the way we were?". There are many reasons, but I think the main one is that when I got into music I was 14 and I could go to gigs, drink beer and watch bands without being asked for ID. I went with all my mates. I was out with Boz Boorer, of the Polecats and Morrissey fame last week. He told me how he won £1.37 playing poker in the 6th form common room at Orange Hill and spent it going to see a band. It covered his bus fare and entrance. He couldn't afford a drink. He was 16, went on his own and got home at midnight. His parents didn't bat an eyelid. The youth of today simply wouldn't be let in. The first gig I went to on my own with my school mates, was when I was 15. A bunch of us went to The Roundhouse from FCHS to see Eddie and The Hot Rods at Xmas 1977 at The Roundhouse. I'd been to a few with my sister who at 19 was an adult, but we were all 15-16. It was £2, paid for from my paper round and cleaning cars for my Dad. The idea of going to a gig and not being let in because I was too young never occurred to me. The sad truth is that it wouldn't happen today. By the time I was 17 and I went to see the Lyceum gig, I was an old hand. It was a lifetime habit. But then again, financially it was also affordable for me. I had a job that was my own money and you could see five classic bands for £3, what was not to like. 

We have become a society that is so obsessed with protecting everyone from everything, that no one has a chance to actually live. I said this to a friend recently who said "You can't honestly say that you'd have let your 14 year old go to see a punk band on the bus". They sort of missed the point. When we went, a gang of us would go and there was safety in numbers. There were scrapes, but I soon learned to spot danger and we all looked out for each other. I think it was the best thing in my life and I wouldn't deprive anyone of that, but I would want my kids going out with a gang, as we did.

Anyway, as I said, to this day the habit continues. This was last nights fun. I suppose one day I'll be too old for all of this.

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A post shared by Roger Tichborne (@rogtex)

I hope that day is a long way off.

Rock and Roll Stories #76 - The joy of playing live and the price to pay the day after!

I bumped into David Grant yesterday. BBC Radio London presenter and frontman of Lynx. During of the course of our chat, I asked whether he had any plans for gigs. He said that he was planning a tour with Lynx next year. He said he'd recently done a show at the Union chapel and he'd 'got the bug back'. It was funny to hear that. I lost the bug in 1990 and didn't perform again until 2002. When we put a line up together and played at the Red Lion in Colindale, it was amazing. The odd thing was our last gig before that in 1990 was something of a tour de force. We played really well, but I'd become jaded. 

It is now 24 years since we started gigging again. We've had a oouple of shows which weren't as good as I'd like, but even then they were fun. Since Tom Hammond joined the band, I think they've all been pretty amazing.  We play 10-15 gigs a year, not enough to become jaded but more than enough to feel like a proper gigging band. We put a huge amount of effort into the shows. For some, Tom makes special T-Shirts. For others, we plan special songs, or interval statements etc. We always give 100% to try and get people involved. When Tom first joined, I think he thought he'd be standing at the back playing amazing trumpet lines. Now he leaps into the crowd to incite them to join in on the chorus sections. The band is very interactive. We actively encourage audience participation. On Saturday night, we played at The Mill Hill Services Club, for cub members. A very different sort of gig to the last two. The previous one was a massive street festival, which was amazing. Before that, it was London's most iconic grassroots venue, the Dublin Castle.  Each was different in its own way, all were brilliant. We played 2 sets for the Services club, which is great as it meant that we played two sets, meaning the songs we don't play that often got an airing. It keeps it fresh. We probably have 15 really strong songs that suit the current set/line up and around 10 more which are more than good enough to play and I enjoy playing, which we don't play enough. Most of the time, we get to play 8-12 songs in a set. Before Tom joined on trumpet, we wrote some cracking songs, which do not really suit a trumpet though. It is great to give them a play through as well.

The band has massively evolved over the last two years. Tom sings a few songs now and we are getting Fil to sing more. This really helps, especially with two set gigs, as it means I can give my vocal chords (and everyone's ears) a rest. Both Tom and Fil have far more versatile voices than me. It makes the set more interesting and I think they bboth do huge justice to the songs. Derek Treadwell has also joined on percussion and backing vocals. Again it adds another layer to the sound, which makes us different. That is something I really appreciate. 

I put a huge amount of effort into my stage performance and expend a huge amount of energy. Now I sing, this is even more the case. When we finish, I am usually in that strange place that performers find themselves, where they are totally exhausted, but also buzzing with adrenalin. When I was a kid, my Dad, who was a WW2 bomber pilot told me that whatever the time, when they returned from missions, crews went to the mess bar. They were totally exhausted, but also completely wired and adrenaline from the sheer stress of the situation. It was only when I started performing that I understood the feeling.

So what happens is you do the set, then have a drink/celebrate/party. You eventually go home, hit the sack and wake up the next day completely worn out. Now I am 64, I feel knackered for several days. It takes longer to catch up. It is now Thursday and as I've had a really busy week, with no scope to chill, I am running on fumes. I couldn't get out of bed this morning. I like to go to the gym every day, but it is a struggle. The strange thing is that if I had another gig, or a rehearsal, the tiuredness would instantly disappear. The human body and adrenaline is a wonderful thing. 

If you look at major bands, like the Rolling Stones, they have been doing this for decades and make me look like a spring chicken. They are lucky though, they have an army to do everything. They just have to play. But even so, performing at the level the likes of Mick Jagger would is phenominal at any age, let alone as an octagnerian. It is almost impossible to explain just how much energy you expend just expanding and contracting your diaphragm to sing. Let alone do a 2 hour dance routine as well. 

If you consider that Mick Jagger is three years older than Donald Trump and the same age as Joe Biden, you realise just what a feat it is. I have been doing the main lead vocals role since 2022. I also play guitar. I love doing both, however, I have increasingly found playing the guitar to be constraining. I have considered even stepping back from playing guitar, but the band has a great dynamic and I am loathe to spoil it. But I do feel I could perform better as a vocalist if I could give it 100% concentration. 

I suspect if I did, I'd use more, not less energy, as playing guitar and singing into a static mic is a big constraint, and I can't move around and wave my arms around as I might like to. If ever the band starts getting paid more money, I will! Sadly it won't be in place until long after our next gig!

Rock and Roll Stories #75 - My fool proof plan to make the False Dots the worlds best band

Back in early 1978, myself and my then best mate Pete decided we were going to form the best band in the world. We had a few problems, we couldn't play, we couldn't read music, we had no instruments, we didn't know anyone who could play, we knew nothing about song writing. But inspired by Mark Perry's Sniffin Glue fanzine, who put three chords on the cover and said "now form a band", we were inspired. We decided that Pet would play bass and sing and I would play guitar. We started saving up to buy instruments, we then sat around working out what sort of a band we would be. The answer was simple. We would be a punk rock band. Punk was sweeping everything before it. We would be the best Punk Rock band ever. How? well we would look at what all of the other bands that we liked did, choose all of the best bits and then, because we were self proclaimed misunderstood genius's we'd make the best band in the world. Whilst we saved up to buy instruments, we started writing a manifesto, because every band needs one, don't they. In May, Pete quit school when he turned 15 and got a job as a trainee butcher at Dewhursts. He bought a bass guitar. I persuaded my sister to lend me her Les Paul Columbus copy. I saved up cash from my paper round and bought a FAL 50 watt amp. It was the cheapest amp in the shop and we could both plug into it and make a horrible noise. We didn't even know how to tune a guitar, but luckily my brother Laurie helped us. He lent us his pitch pipes. The problem was I couldn't hear whether it was in tune or not. But we persisted and practised. We also started writing songs. The first song we wrote was Wrong, which we reworked and put on our last album. It is a 45 second blast of Punk Rock anger, written by two 16 year olds who were angry. It was based on our 'manifesto'. The lyrics "Do you consider yourself a thinking person, or an object for others to manipulate, nobodies immortal, no one's irreplaceable, you're wrong". We ditched its shortly after our first rehearsal, but it sounded strangely current, so we rehashed it.

We hooked up with Dave The Drummer and had our first proper rehearsal on Feb 14th 1979. In some ways, this was our greatest ever achievement. We had gone from nothing to actually playing our own music, albeit very badly, in a year. We were a band. Were we the best band in the world, which is what we set out to be? One of our mates asked Pete this very question, after our first shambolic rehearsal. Pete was very eloquent and his reply was brilliant "That's a really subjective question, because everyone will have a different opinion". Our mate persisted "So do you think you are the best band in the world". Pete replied "Well it is definitely the best band I've ever played with, it was a real blast, so on those terms yes".  Our mate thought he had Pete "So you think you are musically better than ELO?". We burst out laughing. Pete replied "As I can't stand ELO and I'd hate to play their music, of course I do, but as I said, everyone has their own opinion and until everyone has heard our music, they can't judge". I then butted in "on the 5th of June 1976, I'd never heard of The Ramones. On the 6th June, I had seen them and new they were the best band in the world, until you see a band you don't know".

I was reminded of this last night. Tom our trumpet player told me that after our gig on Saturday at the York Rise Street Party, someone asked him whether The False Dots were better than his favourite band (The Cat Empire). Toms reply "not quite". When Tom told us, I said "You should have said 'we are working on it' ". The truth is we are. Until I stop playing, that will be my ambition. I love playing my music to people, I love recording it, I love writing songs, I love rehearsing. We have a great mix of personalities in the band and although there are plenty of the bands that do something or other better than us, we have a  very unique energy and vibe. The band have had a lot of members and a lot of different personalities. I think the current one is the best iteration of all. We have definitely got the best songs. I'd love former members Venessa Sagoe and Connie Abbe to do a couple of numbers with us. They were very special singers. We have always been a pretty good live band, but we are far more fun than we've ever been. 

Oddly, though despite all the changes, all the swings of musical direction, we have had a remarkable consistency of ethos and the plan has always to be the best band we could possibly be, part of that is to play songs that resonate with an audience. We mostly, but not exclusively do original material. hen we gig, strangers invariably come up and tell us that they really like the lyrics and what we want to say. The covers we do, we do for a reason. We started covering "Thats Entertainment" by the Jam, after Rick Buckler, the Jam's drummer passed way. The reason? Our drummer Rambo was inspired to drum by him and Keith Moon (our song Rambo's Rampage nods to Keith Moon and The Who). 

I've always believed that for a band to be the best band, they need to be invested in their music and believe in it. But they must also be comfortable around each other and have a  laugh. A band is a gang. We are now past the age of hanging around on street corners, but we chat and have a laugh and hang out sometimes. If there was a poll as to what the best band in the world is, I guess it would probably be someone like The Rolling Stones,  U2 or Radiohead. Whilst playing on those stages would be great, I'd hate to play under the constraints they play under. We have a beer and a chat with our fans after, we play new numbers and no one complains that we didn't do ten songs written in 1979. What was the plan? Write the best songs we possibly could, rehearse them properly so we could play them well and engage with the audience. Structure our sets so that we entertained everyone and had a good mix of material. Record the best numbers we had, that had got a decent audience reaction and then do it all again. 

We genuinely get a kick out of it. Best band? For me yes. The plan has worked. All I have to is convince the other 6 billion citizens of this planet.

Rock and Roll Stories #74 - Difficult third album syndrome!

The False Dots have just released our 2nd album with our current line up. Technically it was our 5th album, but three have languished on the shelf, one for nearly 40 years! Another was only released on Myspace and got lost when Myspace crashed, feaaturing Fil Ross on vocals. The third, was never quite finished and featured Allen Ashley on vocals. One day we will release it as a retrospective when the time seems right, but it is very different to what we do now. 

 But when we restarted in 2021 after lockdown, we had a bit of a reset and so in many ways it is a new band. I am now writing the bands third album with Tom Hammond on trumpet in the band (although the first album was largely recorded beforeTom joined). Our second album "We don't live in America" has been really well recieved. What next? Well there is a term called difficult third album syndrome.

The theory is that the first album is the best of a bands career before they started putting albums together. The first current album "Don't be afraid of a finger in the Sun" had a song we wrote in 1980, one we wrote in 1983 and one from just before Allen left. It also featured many songs I wrote in lockdown, when I didn't have much else to do. As for the second album, the idea is that the band still has fresh ideas and a few old songs to rehash as they know the way studios work better. We actually rehashed two songs from 1979 for it, albiet with different arrangements etc. There was also another two songs written with Allen that was due to appear, albiet with a different arrangements,  on the album we recorded with him. Also there was a song from the Myspace album, again heavily re-arranged. The other eight songs were new. I think it is works well. If you didnt know the history, I doubt you'd guess which songs are the old ones. 

So now, whilst we are plugging our new album like mad, we are working discreetly on the next album! The theory is that the third album is hastily hashed together by a band that ha run out of ideas. So is the cupboard dry and have we run out of ideas? There is still one old song we may add, and that will feature Fil on vocals, but other than that, all of the songs will have been written in the last year. Can we keep up the run of great new songs? Well only time will really tell, but I am really excited by the new material and the new songs we are writing. We played three at our recent album launch and they seemed to be well received. Do I feel daunted or uninspired? No, not really. I actually feel quite energised by the concept of writing new material. Of course the proof is in the pudding. But for me, I write when something inspires me. I also get a huge kick out of playing new songs with the band and hearing what they bring to the show. And then there is the process of recording, I love this. 

What I've come to realise though is that most musicians don't really enjoy the process of writing songs. They see it as a necessary evil and once they develop a formula that works, they struggle to adapt it.  Some of this is inertia, some of it is laziness and some of it is that they are terrified that if they change what they are doing, they will lose their audience. Not everyone has the fearsome attitude of David Bowie, who shed images and sounds and reinvented himself almost every year in the 1970's and early 1980's. By the time Bowie was releasing songs like Lets Dance, he'd largely shed the audience that loved Rebel Rebel. He made albums that were left field, like Youg Americans.  Now he's hailed as a genius, but then, many of his fans just switched off. 

If we look at the big Indie war between Oasis and Blur, we saw two every different bands. Oasis had a formula that worked brilliantly for two albums, Blur changed the spots constantly. When Oasis reformed it was a celebration of those two albums. When Blur reformed, it was a celebration of a long, diverse career. I know which works for me, but for Oasis, the cash still rolls in, so there is something to be said for their approach. 

So I think that the difficult third album is very much a syndrome for bands that are scared to evolve. If your music is very genre specific, I guess it is harder to keep pulling rabbits out of the hat. Artists that sell out stadiums often have the problem that their audience don't want to know about the new stuff. One of my wife's favourite artists is Paul Weller, I've rarely been to one of his shows where someone hasn't moaned about the lack of songs by the Jam. If he played a set pulled entirely from the Jam's first two albums, I guess most of their fans would go home ecstatic. Their third album featured songs like English Rose, that hinted at what was to come. However with Jam bangers on like Down in the tube station at midnight and David Watts, they managed to keep the fans onside and avoid the difficult third album tag. 

I get the feeling that artsist like Weller and Damon Albarn write songs because they enjoy it, rather than because they feel they have to. People have often noted the huge influence of Ian Dury on my music. It is funny because I was chatting about this to a friend, who commented "Well Ian Dury's third album was a bit of a clunker with no hits on it". They didn't realise that Stiff Records and Ian Dury didn't like putting singles on albums. Of course, Dury's first album Handsome was with Kilburn and The High Roads, so many consider Laughter his third album.Had it been on an album, Dury's biggest hit "Hit me with your rythm stick" would have been on his third album. It has sold over 1.29 million copies in the UK.  It does occur to me that we were very lucky that Dury hit his peak during the height of punk. He had a supportive label and an audience eager to buy into his talent. Perhaps the biggest tragedy is that if there is another Ian Dury out there, we won't hear their first album, let alone their third, because the gatekeepers will deem it "uncommercial". 

To sum up, I believe that the concept of difficult third album is a myth. For 99% of artists, the problem is difficult first album. If that is no good, the chances of a third album are miniscule!.

Anyway, here is the False Dots second or fifth album, depending on how you want to look at it!

Rock and Roll Stories #73 - What could possibly go wrong?

 So did you come to The Dublin Castle to see The False Dots on Sunday? It was the bands one hundred and thirty sixth gig of our career. Every single one has been an absolute adventure, with stories and memories generated. We've met other bands, great people, seen all manner of venues. We've played for Gangsters and Vicars, Royalty and Robbers! I like to think people come because they know they will have fun and it will be a bit of an event. It's not the Rolling Stones at Wembley, but it is a unique event and no two gigs are the same. We played 12 songs and we didn't even play the 12 we planned, as we got a mate we spotted in the audience to join us on one. We got a great response, and everyone had a boogie. After the gig, a few mates said it was the best one ever. Given that it was my birthday and so I

Rog with Tony Bugbear, Griff and
Michele with one 'L' after the gig

had been plied with drinks and forgot a couple of words here and there, or that Fil had equipment problems and his bass cut out a few times, it is, I guess a testament to what we do that people didn't seem to notice, or maybe they just enjoy the rock and roll chaos that seems to be part of what we do. I had an absolute ball. I cannot lie, I'm 64 and you use a lot of energy. I slept well!

Doing a gig is not just playing. We played for one hour, which was 12 songs, all originals. We played two songs for the first time, which seemed to go well. We had two rehearsals dedicated to just getting the set right and finalising the new numbers. Generally rehearsals last 2-3 hours, we time the actual set, to make sure we don't overrun. We also tweak songs that need it. I've no idea how much time we spend on promotion, but we do a lot of work on that. On the Sunday, we were playing at 5pm. The band arrived at noon to soundcheck. The pub wasn't even open. Matthew, the soundman arrived with us. It took Matthew 45 minutes to get everything ready for us. At 12.45, we did the soundcheck. We did the two new numbers, as Tom sang one and I sang the other. It was pretty smooth. Then Little Rock and Niall Logue did their soundchecks. For us, it was a long wait until 4pm. 

We always make a point of watching the other bands, chatting to our fans and friends. It was great to see so many new faces, many of whom have been listening to the new album. Several too great delight in quoting a line from the song "Chinese Nosh" at Graham 'Rambo' Ramsey, our drummer. It starts with "Pass the Soy Sauce Rambo" and Gray was quite disconcerted by the number of strangers walking up to him and saying it. 

Every artist writes songs for different reasons. We go through different stages. These days, I write songs to put a smile on peoples face and perhaps trigger a few memories. Graham said he played the song to the owner of his local chinese takeaway, who loved it! I am always fascinated by the people everyone else ignores. I always try and chat to the people who run local cafe's and restaurants, many have become friends. If I can immortalise them in song, even better. 

People seem to get it. The new album has had well over 1,000 streams on Spotify, Not enough for us to retire, but we've only promoted it on line and at gigs, so that is actually pretty good. We won't retire on the proceeds, but people seem to love it when they hear it.

The gig was the official launch of the album, as well as my birthday party. After we played, I had a few more beers with friends, etc. Everyone was in a brilliant mood. The Promoter, Tony Gleed at Bugbear gave me a box of home grown tomatoes as a present, which was lovely and they were delicious. When we were done, we nipped down to Goodfare Italian, for some pasta and a bottle of wine. All very civilised.. I was tucked up in bed by 10pm. It was a great day. Thanks to everyone who made it special.

Rock and Roll Stories #72 - You are never too old to Rock and Roll

 When I started the band, I started a scrapbook to document the meteoric rise of the False Dots to the top of the charts and world domination of music. We genuinely believed that we would become the biggest band on the planet. We couldn't play, the songs were crap, our instruments were the cheapest rubbish we could afford. What could possibly go right? Well nothing at all. The scrapbook is a litany of the many failures of various line ups of the band between 1979 and 1990 to be successful, it is laced with bitterness and acrimony. I wrote it for myself and in some ways it is the first example of my style as a blogger, although the targets were ex band members rather than politicians. Then it stops until 2000. This is the first entry of the new century.

I restarted  the band for a specific purpose. To record some of the old songs for my own personal pleasure, as I had my own recording studio. I had no plans to gig, no plans to release music, no plans to take the band seriously. Then fate intervened. My best mate and business partner, Ernie Ferebee died, we decided to do a benefit gig for his family and the bug bit again. That was 26 years ago and the band has been active ever since. I was 37 years old then and considered myself past it, so it seemed pointless persuing the Rock and Roll dream. However, it was a total blast and great fun, so I saw no reason not to do it. We settled into a pattern of doing one or two gigs a year, at local venues and usually for cancer charities and local festivals. It sort of scratched the itch. In 2010-11 we had a brief period when Connie Abbe joined as singer, were we returned to Camden Town and recorded some material seriously, with a view to getting Connie a deal. Connie left to join Emmanual Jal on a world tour and Allen Ashley rejoined. We settled back into 3-4 gigs a year. 

Allen departed during Covid. I returned to singing duties for the first time since 1982 and we started writing new material. A gig at the Mill Hill Music Festival followed by a gig at the Dublin Castle in 2022 confirmed something that had been bothering me probably since Connie was in the band. The music industry has always been focussed on new young bands. Of course it is right to make the primary focus on upcoming talent and new ideas. However, there are so many great bands and solo artists who are not teenagers/young musicians who are making great music. The industry is not at all intersted in artists once they no longer look like teenagers, unless they are megastars with billions of fans. The artists who have the biggest income streams are generally not teenagers, they are established bands, like Madonna and The Rolling Stones, who have an audience of an age where there is plenty of disposable cash. But the industry completely lacks the wit and intelligence to see that there is a huge market for new music for this age group.

Bands like The False Dots, playing a genre that is not in vogue such as North London style Ska music still get a great reception live. We have nuerous radio plays on specialist online Ska stations. Everyone tells us our music is great. People like the fact that we break all the rules of Rock and Roll, and we don't give a $h1t but the gatekeepers of the mainstream sneer at us. Online, our Youtube channel has had just shy of 100,000 views. One of our songs, Put me in the Spotlight, was used by Manchester City FC as the theme tune for their Goal of the Month show in 2012. It was played 47 million times. Our gigs are a blast. It is enough for me. But it is 100% clear to me that a wider audience is being failed by the gatekeepers. I don't say this because we are not on Telly. I am saying this because over the last five years, we've played dozens of gigs, with other amazing bands on the bill, making mindblowing music and none get a look in. 

One of the things that the False Dots have started to do regularly is matinee gigs at the Dublin Castle. For many of our audience, this works well. Many have moved out of London, so there is no stress of getting the last train home etc. They can come and see us, have a few beers with mates, maybe a bite to eat after and still be tucked up in bed at 9pm with the cocoa (or whatever their tipple of choice is). I have realised that bands like ours have to adapt the way we do things. I still love playing headline shows finishing at 11pm and we get many younger fans who are also up for this. However I realised that we were missing a trick when many of our fans said "We prefer it when you do support slots so we can get home". 

Any band that wants to have an audience needs to stay in touch with its fanbase. So we've tried to gear our programme around making sure that anyone who may like our music gets a chance to see us when it suits them. You are never too old to Rock and Roll, but Rock and Roll needs to make damn sure that it gives everyone a chance to join in the fun, be it as a musican, a punter or both! The current stage of the  journey started in 2000 and I still feel we are only half way to Paradise! I hope that there are a few more chapters of Rock and Roll Stories to tell!

And if you've not heard the music of The False Dots, CLICK HERE and if you want to come and see us, in a Matinee Show click on the picture for full details of our album launch and my birthday show, on 23rd August at The Dublin Castle

Rock and Roll Stories #71 - Dave the roadie, we salute you!

On the latest album by The False Dots, we have a track called Dave the Roadie, celebrating all of the people who came on this mad journey with us, but were not musicians. They drove, lugged gear, hung around. Some weren't even especially keen on our music, but just loved the crack of being part of a band.  The song is a mash up of about five people we knew, who played the role at some point. However there is one main character who inspired the song. I won't name him as he's still got a job and I don't want to embarrass him, as he's a changed man! Back in the day, he'd hanga around with us, he learned to drive at an early age and had access to a van. It is almost impossible to describe what being part of the False Dots was like in the very early years. There were always all manner of illicit substances being passed around. I was far more of a drinker than anyone else in the band and our entourage. We'll call our Roadie Dave so you know who I am talking about. Dave wasn't into boozing at all. He liked to smoke a joint. He was the only person I knew who could roll a joint whilst drviing. I don't mean with skunk weed either, a proper one, where you heated resin and mixed it with tobacco. We didn't encourage this, as we didn't really want to die. He had a large ghetto blaster cassette player,  which he called Desmond. He'd put it on the back seat. He'd change cassettes whilst driving, completely ignoring the road. In hindsight, it was a miracle no one was mown down.

I knew Dave initially from being an Alter Server at the Catholic Church. Unlike me, he was a very good footballer. I suspect that if he hadn't me me and got involved with the band, he'd have been a pretty good semi pro. He played for Graham Park FC when they won the Hendon & District Sunday league cup at Hendon Town FC. When we were about 16, I told him he needed to get into rock and roll. I dragged him down to see The Dickies at The Marquee. Up until that moment, he dressed as a Chelsea casual. He went an overnight transformation. I had some electric clippers and cropped his hair at both sides, in a haircut I christened the "Turkos Tharg". He bought a pair of white striped trousers and a Dickies T-Shirt with the sleeves cut off. Dave was about 6'2 and a handsome bugger. Gorgeous girls would throw themselves at him and he was seemingly uninterested. To my surprise, at a Vibrators gig, an absolutely stunning girl tried to chat him up. He was far more intersted in her friend, who was far less exotic. I questioned him, he said "She had something to say, the other one was dull". 

After rehearsals and gigs, we'd assemble back in Bunns Lane. Dave lived in the caretakers cottage at the yard, where our studios are. We'd drink tea into the early hours and consume illicit copious amounts of things that are not entirely legal. Then at 1 or 2 am, we'd have a five a side kickabout. This would last an hour. We'd then drink more tea etc. We'd play on the asphalt roadway. if you fell over it was a scuffed knee. Sometimes, the Police would turn up. They believed us all to be raving junkies, but when we played five a side, we played hard. They would observe and be confused. 

During the tea drinking sessions, we would indulge in all manner of strange games. There was the barrel of doom. It was a card game where the loser would have to immerse themselve in an oil drum full of rain water, When we tipped it out, we found a load of dead rats at the bottom of it. Perhaps the most bizarre game was the "Pia Zadora challenge". This started when I made a throwaway comment about having an erotic dream about actress Pia Zadora. In the dream, she said she would do rude things to me, if I could balance upside down on a rotating chair, placed on a table and rotate myself through 360 degrees, using my feet on the ceiling. She held the chair whilst I attempted it. 

When I recounted this, Dave stated "lets see if we can do it". I am clumsy and hopeless at such things. However Dave managed it. Sadly Pia was not around to give him the prize. At gigs, he'd often drive us there and return to collect us, missing the set. One time, he forgot about us, only remembering at 3am, picking us up from outside a long closed pub in the rain. He made it clear that he didn't need to apologise, as he was doing us the favour driving. 

As so often happens, he eventually got a girlfriend and became less interested in hanging around with us lot, engaging in shenanigans. When he got a proper flat with her, it was more or less the end of the golden age of False Dots insanity. Several things persisted. Our five a side team, Goatybeard United lasted into the 1990's. He learned the saxophone and joined a pretty decent band. I have tried to get him to play with us on a couple of occasions, but as he's not in London, it is not really practical.

But the truth of it is that without Dave and his ilk, there would've been no rock and roll bands. He encouraged me to seek out far flung gigs as he enjoyed driving the van. Looking back there are many things I recall. Perhaps (for me) one of the funniest was after a gig at Tower Bridge. He'd borrowed a Mk 1 VW camper van off a mate called Emil. We took all the gear, the band and a few mates with us. On the way back, we acquired about five more mates to bring back. It seemed like every cubic inch of the van was taken, highly illegal. As we returned, we passed through Kilburn, I said "Dave, I need a pee, can you find somewhere quiet to stop". He turned off the Edgware Road and pulled into a leafy road. He stopped in a dark spot under a tree. I jumped out and started to pee into hedge. Then every door of the van opened, and all 17 people emerged and proceeded to pee in the front garden of the house we stopped outside of. A bloke in the bedroom heard the furore, put on the light and opened the curtains. He then opened the window and started shouting. To his amazement (I assume), we all disappeared into the van and drove off. 

At the time, the high spot of our set was a cover of Space Cowboy, by the Steve Miller Band. Dave and another mate, would guest as exotic dancers during the number. If ever I hear the song, I think of Dave.

He's a very respectable character now. At a friends funeral. we put up a selection of pictures from those mad times. Dave's son saw them and I heard him exclaim "Dad, you hypocrite!". He isn't though, sadly, like all of us, he just grew up! You can see the band at The Dublin Castle on Sunday 23rd August at The Dublin Castle CLICK HERE FOR CHEAP TICKETS

Have a listen. 

Rock and Roll Stories #70 - Sometimes recording sessions can be fun!

 For many bands, the most stressful experience of all is making recordings. There are reasons for this. It is expensive. You have to spend extended periods of time in the company of people and you get to see a different side of them. If you are serious, you have strong opinions. Often you get tired and hungry. Sometimes, drink and/or drugs cloud your judgement. Often musicians are more concerned that their virtuoso playing is showcased, rather than a brilliant end product is produced (some people only think it is brilliant if all you can hear is them noodling). I was chatting with our vocal coach, Josh Alumu yesterday. He's just back from working on a recording with two megastars. Mark Ronson was producing. I really rate Mark Ronson as a producer. If I had an unlimited budget and a new artist, I'd get Mark to produce it. I asked Josh what he's like. He said "He's a nice guy, really calm". This made me think. Being calm in the studio is something that is a massive asset. 

I have produced a fair number of artists over the years. Most of them have been new and up and coming artists, with little or no studio experience. Getting a performance from someone who is absolutely terrified in an alien environment is never easy. I only work with people I think have something. Often, they are so scared of making mistakes and embarrassing themselves, that they do not produce a performance. Having worked with a few vocal coaches in the studio, there are tricks that you learn to get people to produce a better performance, but ultimately if you are going to get a proper performance, you have to challenge people and push them to their limits and sometimes beyond. This has to be done in a sensitive and calm way. Once you an artist gets over their fear, often they start to have fun. A great artist will know their own talent better than anyone, and when they realise what they can do, all of a sudden you find that they have more to contribute than you dreamed.  When you are working with a solo artist, this is easy. When it is a band, it can cause problems. When bands first start recording, they all want to be involved. The drummer gets a very raw deal. They record first and then they are done. They have to hang around for hours/days/weeks, just watching everyone else do their bit. The same is pretty much true for the bass player. With the rythm section, when it is done, it is pretty much done (unless they do backing vocals). 

Guitarists, keyboards, brass are then done. Finally the vocals. Most producers etc do far more work on vocals, as this is what sells records. Often other members get frustrated that the vocalist gets so much attention. I had a mate who worked for a major record label. His job? To take the rest of the band to the pub and buy them beers, whilst the vocalist did their takes (and often whilst session musicians came in to replace their dodgy takes!).  I read an interview with one band, who complained that they didn't realise that the band were actually paying for this, as it got deducted from their royalty cheque. If you don't know the industry, it may sound shocking but if you do, you get it.

These days, I am lucky. I have my own studio and when I do work in it, it's free. That is one stress removed. Another stress removed is that we have all been around the block and know what we are doing. We focus on getting a great end product. But we also have fun. I think this shows in our music. It doesn't sound sterile and bland. We have a craic in the studio. Whereas when we first started, we used to get really stressed about playing the perfect performance, now we get that getting the right feel is more important. We get a kick out of coming up with ideas that sound great.

I've learned that the less stress you have in the studio, the better the result. My band, The False Dots has evolved into a very low stress organisation. We do our thing and we have fun. When we were recording our new album, We don't live in America, Tom the Trumpet suggested that we get a crew of friends in to do some chanting on the title track. We turned it into a party. Given the title, we suggested everyone brought their favourite beer from around the world (so long as it wasn't American, cos their beer is wee wee). We then went around and made a clip of everyone telling us what the beer was. We provided Pizza's as well. It was a good fun experience. 

It turned into a bit of a party and we had a blast. It was very different to our first recording, with Alan Warner back in 1980. We rehearsed solidly for a week and were all as uptight as it is possible to be. Alan did a great job, but we could hardly play and none of us wanted to be the one to let the band down. It actually turned out OK, but it was anything but fun. Growing up does have its benefits!

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