Music makes life better! Much better! I have had a strange week. I've been attacked by crocodiles, unfriended by email, had a lurgy and perhaps worst of all, our 15 year old, geriatric doggy is not in good shape. By about 8pm yesterday. I was feeling pretty down, if I am honest. However, I had a rehearsal with The False Dots, as we have a show at Nambucca on Friday (on the Holloway Road, Near Archway and it's free to get in to). I really wasn't feeling like it at all. Yesterday was also one of my designated non drinking days. Generally I don't mind, but if it wouldn't have inconvenienced everyone, I'd have just gone to the pub. But I didn't. With regards to my band, I am anything, if not professional. So I printed out the set lists, printed some updated lyrics and waited for the band to arrive. When I rehearse, I have to get my 'rehearsal head' on. When I play with the band, I step into my band persona.
When the guys turned up, we had a short listen to some of our recent recordings, before we started. I had made some changes to arrangements and I wanted the boy to be clued up. We all had a cup of tea and a brief chat. As it was a gig rehearsal, it was a short run through of the set. We have different patterns of rehearsals, depending on what we are rehearsing for. When it is a gig rehearsal, we only run through all of the songs once and we time it, to ensure that we don't overrun. We are playing for an hour, so we timed the set.
There is one new song in the set, called "Moderately priced Hedonism", which is both the slowest and the fastest song in the set. We play the songs in order and I also do intro's. These usually change, but it helps with timings etc. The band has been going for 47 years, we've had many incarnations and some brilliant musicians and vocalists in the band. I do however believe that our current incarnation is one of the best, if not the best in terms of the show we do. We have a really strong set of songs and a very good band dynamic. The set lasted 58 minutes, which is more or less bang on the money.
When we play live or do a full gig rehearsal, it expends a fair bit of energy, but it also gives you a massive ebergy boost. I left the rehearsal feeling 20 years younger and in a brilliant frame of mind. This is what music does. There is a famous song called "last night a DJ saved my life". I am not going to be so dramatic as to say "The False Dots saved my life last night", but the band certainly helped get my mindset back on the right path. Music doesn't get old or ill, it doesn't cheat or lie. It doesn't demand anything in return. I believe that as a musician, I am just channelling something bigger, more powerful, something good. It is a privilege to play with my fellow False Dots and I will always be eternally grateful to everyone who has ever helped keep the band on the go. That includes not only musicians, but roadies, promoters, bar staff, journalists, radio presenters and prorducers who have helped us to do what we do. Most of all though, thanks to all of the people who come to the shows and listen to the tracks. Without them, we'd be nothing.
And as to Fridays gig, I beleive The False Dots always play our best when we play live. Nambucca has a brilliant sound system and is a great venue. I believe that if you are coming, you will be in for a treat.
For my sins and perhaps much to my surprise, BBC Radio London seem to like me and I get periodically invited on to shows to do 'guest slots'. Today, I was invited onto the Eddie Nestor show, currently being hosted by Jim Davis, to do the trends at 12 slot. I have done this a few times and generally I enjoy a bit of banter with Eddie. I've spoken to Jim a few times, but this is the first time I've done the Trends slot with him. The slot involves me picking three stories that are of concern to me. A local one, something we should know about and something fun.
I do not need too much encouraging to get up on my high horse and tell the world my views. I know the format and I had three things that I was determined to discuss. The first was the appointment Laura Johnson as a senior housing officer for Barnet Homes. She was in charge of housing an Kensington and Chelsea Council and was involved in cost cutting measure at Grenfell Tower. Now clearly there were issues at many levels, but given the current state of play with the investigations etc, it seemed to me a very unwise move and on many levels an unfair one. Barnet Residents and Trades Unions were preparing a lobby of Council offices on 20th October. Last night, I was informed that she was "no longer working for Barnet". I felt that residents really should be aware of what has been going on. It is my view that where potential negligence leads to deaths, the Police should investigate from day one. This was my first story and I was delighted that the BBC have now picked the story up.
My second story? Something we should all know about. I chose the fact that TFL are consulting on a new passenger rail service, using existing freight only lines, between Hendon and Hounslow, known as the West London Orbital railway. This proposal has been knocking around ever since I started the blog, in various forms. Like all important Infrastructure projects in the UK it seems to take decades to bring absolute no brainers to fruition. You can read more about the consultation here.
The False Dots next gig
The third story, a fun one, was about the relaunch of Nambucca as a fully fledged music venue. I am delighted that my band, The False Dots are part of this. We are playing on Friday. The full listings are here. I am really excited to see that 70's Stiff Records sensation Lene Lovich is playing. When I told Jim, he said he'd seen her recently supporting the B52's and she's great.
You can listen to the show again here. Now I mentioned a conundrum. Before we started chatting about my stories, we had a chat about music and vinyl. I could chat all day to Jim about records and vinyl. As I mentioned to Jim, I have a huge collection of vinyl and I love it. However, all of the recent False Dots releases have been done purely on line. The main reason for this is it is cheaper and we can connect easily with our fans. However, the purist in my says we should put stuff out on Vinyl. No record companies are interested in bands with 63 year old singers. They (to me rather foolishly) think there is no market and no money in bands like me. Whereas it costs a tenner to release an album digitally, it costs a significant sum to put one out on vinyl and you've no real idea if it will sell. So what do you think, should we bite the bullet and do it?
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.
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
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.
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.
It's funny isn't it. I was away at the weekend with a bunch of lads for a Stag do, most of whom were in their 20's and early thirties (+ my mate Gary who is my age sort of at just over 60 and is the Dad of the groom). I haven't been on such a riotous adventure for a good few years. Weekends away with my male mates are a lot more sedate these days. It was a bit of a jolt to the system. They are a lovely bunch of lads and I was generally surprised at how well behaved they are. I was also surprised at how much more civilised the English have become on such occasions. It reminded me of when I was that sort of age. We were terrible if I am honest. We were into rock and roll and the rock and roll lifestyle and at times it seemed like a constant game of pushing everything to the limit. I am not quite sure how old I was when I finally started to be a bit more sensible, probably some time around when I was 33, when I had my first daughter.
I was managing a band ten years younger and I was constantly surprised at how different they were to the False Dots in our prime. We were a very naughty bunch. Naughty Naughty tra la la. I am sure that they felt they were a naughty bunch of boys, and they did a few things, but for us it was constant mayhem. I can recall when Paul Marvin joined the band. His Dad was Hank Marvin, perhaps the first ever British guitar legend. He asked me if I wanted to be a Rock and Roll star. I said yes. He gave me some brilliant advice. He said "Rock and Roll is not playing in an orchestra, it is about putting yourself out there. You have to look better than the other bands and have a trademark. You don't have to be the greatest player, but you have to have some trademark licks and always wear great shoes".
As the band started to gig, I realised that all of the best gigs I'd seen were at smaller venues. Gigs like The Damned's reunion gig at The Moonlight Club in West Hampstead, Johnny Thunders at Dingwalls, The Dickies at The Marquee and Crass at The Hope and Anchor are some that spring to mind. I realised that the biggest venue I liked was The Roundhouse, any bigger and it did not seem to me to be a proper gig. The more I played the more I loved it and I have always loved writing songs, rehearsing with a band and recording. But I had no great ambition to be on Top of The Pops or play massive venues. That just didn't seem like fun. I liked having a beer with the audience afterwards. I don't know if the fact I'd been on telly a lot when I did acting as a kid fed into that.
I wasn't too bothered about the money side. In fact, when we first started, it was relatively lucrative, Venues would pay us a decent amount and we'd put on our own gigs as well. About half of this was invested back in the band, and half in alcohol etc. The second time we were asked "So you want to be a Rock Star?" was when we went to see an A&R man at GEM records. We bumped into the UK Subs, as we were hanging around. I will save that story for another day. It was not a satisfactory experience. We got hassled by the drug squad on the way their and got nicked on the way back, as I was on the back of Pete Conways motorbike and he only had a provisional license. The copper who nicked us was a very two faced liar, who we exposed in court for his misdemeanours and porkies, which spared me a fine, but not an endorsement on a driving license I didn't have as I had pleaded guilty! As Pete was called after me, he got let off completely, as he said "I am pleading innocent, the officer has told a stack of lies". The Magistrate dismissed the case. I must be the only person to be an illegal passenger, when the driver got let off. The copper was fuming, but he made up a whole cock and bull story, rather than give proper evidence. I simply told the truth. He had said I'd asked Pete to give me a lift as I was late for work. I told the magistrate this was a complete fabrication, as Pete had bought the bike that day and he'd suggested going for a spin as he was chuffed with it. It was probably worse, but it was true. I then challen ed the magistrate to ask the policeman to explain why he had told porkies and made stuff up. He couldn't explain. As we left, he told me he was going to 'sort me out next time he saw me". I told him that he should be ashamed of himself for telling lies. The Police were not keen on people in bands back then. In truth, I'd done a silly thing and was quite happy to take the medicine until he started his story.
As for the actual interview with the A&R man. That went as badly as it possibly could. He took one look at Pete & I and decided we were ne'er do well idiots. He played the first song on the tape and and said it was 'the wrong sort of music'. I looked at the offices with all of the pictures of Samson (their current stars) up and said "And that is the right sort of music", to which he sneered "They sell records, thats what the indusstry does". We'd chosen the label to try as they had the UK Subs, so we were very disappointed. The A&R bloke did give us some good advice. He said "If you play a song to an A&R man, you get about ten seconds. Your drummer used that with is extra long count in." Pete retorted "Most people do a four count in so we thought we'd be different", to which he replied "When different is rubbish, it isn't clever". I can't say that endeared the industry to me, but he wasn't wrong. When he asked "Do you want to be rock and roll stars?" We both replied "Yes". He said "Well go away and make something people will buy". It wasn't actually bad advice, but we took it as a huge insult. I daresay he said that to dozens if not hundreds of wannabees. Back in 1980, no one cared if they crushed you and your dreams.
I think myself and Pete took it in different ways. He departed the band and I carried on for 47 years. The next installment will take place on Sunday. Why not come along (click the image for details). I hope the lads I was out with on Sunday are still following their dreams when they get to my age!
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
What is going on? I woke up with a sense of deep trepidation. A feeling that everything is about to go terribly wrong and that there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop any of it. I was in a state of total panic. There was no rational reason, but I am a deeply superstitious person and I believe that we do get inclings of bad things in the pipeline.
I got to thinking about my Dad. In our last proper conversation he told me about the night his bomber was shot down. In the morning, his reaar gunner and best mate Spud Murphy told him he'd had a terrible nightmare that they'd been shot down bombing the oilfields in Ploesti, Romania. He told Dad that he was in the turrets dying in flames with machine gun bullets in his chest. The crew were on their last mission and Dad wanted to get home. Spud begged Dad to skip the op if Ploesti was announced as the target. Dad told him that he couldn't, just because someone had a nightmare. When the target was announced, Spud turned white and was terrified. Dad told him that it would be fine and they'd all be going home tomorrow.
As they approached the target, a bizarre thing happened. In the co-pilot, another pilot from his squadron, Jack Scheider, who had been shot down the previous week appeared. He said to Dad "Laurie, it's a killer the way these Wimpeys go down". Before he could react or process the information, a German night fighter attacked, shooting out an engine and the rear turret. Dad did the standard evasion manouvre, but the fighter attacked again. The crew bailed out. apart from Spud. Dad just got out in time. He told me that as he was bailing out, he said a prayer to the Virgin Mary, asking to be spared and to be given his three score and ten. When Dad was recounting this, he said he was now worried. He was 69, in his three score and tenth year. The deal was about to expire. Rather like Dad told Spud, I told him not to be silly.
I then said to Dad "That must've been the worst day of your life". He looked at me and welled up slightly. He said "Oh no, when your Mum was diagnosed with cancer and the Doctor told me she would be dead within three years and we had to make arrangements, that was worse". I was surprised. Dad explained "When you are a bomber pilot in a war, you are prepared and trained for such things. You become hardened as you see mates in other crews die, when you are shot down, you are too busy trying to survive to worry too much. When Mum was ill, I was totally unprepared and had no control. There was nothing I could do". I was shocked to silence. Dad then said "I was lucky though, I spoke to Fr Traynor (and elderly catholic priest and Dad's best friend). He told me that when there is no hope, you always have prayer. Pray for Gods mercy and the strength to do the right thing whatever".
Dad then said "Never forget that, when all seems lost. Prayer will always get you through". At the time I was an atheist. I didn't want to insult Dad and tell him it was all mumbo jumbo. What struck me and made me re-examine my views on such things, was the extraordinary resilience and strength my Dad had. He never really seemed to be phased by anything. I always had the feeling that whatever happened, he'd find us a way through. Whatever I may think of his faith and sometimes strange religious ways, it worked for him in a way that was undeniable. What was odd was that he combined aspects of Roman Catholicism with superstitions of the local aboriginal population where he was born in the outback of Australia. He believed he could make weather. He would turn off the radio if "The Sun aint gonna shine anymore" came on. He believed that you could kill people just by wishing them dead, but if you did, your soul would be bound to them and you'd likely end up in hell. He believed that any deal made with God was unbreakable, but you had to be careful, as he found out with his 'three score and ten' deal. He didn't return to Australia after the war until 1976, as a gypsy had read his fortune before he left and told him that if he left, he'd never returned. My mother told me that on the flight to Australia in 1976, he told her that the plane would crash and it was her fault for not trusting the Gypsy curse. Mum dismissed it.
Which brings me back to this morning. I was lying there in an abject sense of panic. I thought of Dad and that conversation and took his advice. I said a prayer. The panic eased and I felt more able to face the day. Bad things may happen. Bad things always happen. We face them and we do what we can to get through them. One of the things my Dad cautioned me with was "Whatever happens, stay calm and composed and make rational decisions. You can't stop bad times, but you can get through them and good times will come again".
I feel a lot better now. Have a wonderful Sunday. I hope nothing bad happens to you, me or anyone we love today. Here is a little piece of punk rock, written in my bedroom, with my then bandmate Pete Conway, as we drove my poor old Dad mad learning guitar. This was pretty much a diatribe against his views on everything, as I was a disaffected teenager. I have come to the conclusion that it was me who was probably WRONG!
I used to work a stones throw from the Tower of London. I had to actually walk through it to get to my office from Tower station. Oddly, I've never been inside to see the Crown jewels. In fact I have a deep aversion to the building and it gives me the creeps. I am not silly enough to want to see it demolished and replaced with a block of flats, that would be ridiculous, but the building has a terrible history. I am not quite sure whether this aversion dates from my times at St Vincent School, where Irish nuns would regale us with tales of British inhumanity and injustice, and how heads of 'traitors' would be placed on spikes outside the tower, as a warning to anyone who might consider opposing the monarch of the day.
It may also have been down to the fact that an ancestoral relative of mine, Chidiok Tichborne, a poet and an opponent of Queen Elizabeth the first was held in the tower and hung, drawn and quartered for his role in the Babbington plot. For me, I have always felt an affinity with Chidiok. He is 400 years (almost to the day) younger than me. He was an idealistic young man, who wanted a better world. Chidiok joined the Babbington plot in response to Queen Elizabeth banning Roman Catholicism. It seems insane in this day and age that a Christian religion, which had recently been the state religion could be banned and the followers persecuted, but that was the climate in which Chidiok lived.
I am not a historian, however I think there are some important lessons to be learned from history. If we do not learn such lessons, then we may make the same mistakes again. I find the concept of people killing each other over religious differences to be completely sick. The fact that there are many places in the world this still happens is a stain on humanity. Fortunately, Catholics and Protestants seem to have moved on (although there are still tensions in places like Glasgow and Northern Ireland). In England, the main cause of the schism was the dispute between Henry VIII and the Pope over the annulment of his marriage. By most measures, now we'd consider Henry to be a psychopath and a sociopath. He had ultimate power and could exercise it in England as he saw fit.
What the Nuns at St Vincents never really taught us was that there was more to the Potestant cause than just Henry's loins. The Vatican at the time was a deeply flawed institution. Many such as Martin Luther felt that it had lost its way and was more about maintaining unstitutional power than spreading the message of peace and love. When I researched the issue, I was quite disturbed to find that the deeper I dug, the more I agreed with Luther's criticisms of the Church. Had I been around at the time and heard Luthers criticisms, I may well have lined up on his side. As both the Pope and Henry weilded power without balances and checks, Europe descended into a dark period of religious war.
Fast forward to 2026. We have Donald Trump as the most powerful man on the planet. He fires anyone who disagrees with him. He has launced a war against a theocracy in Iran, where the Mullah's control the country and have a despised religious police to enforce their edicts. The more I see of Trump, the more he reminds me of Henry VIII. He is partial to a wife or three. He portrays himself as a ' defender of the faith' whilst completely ignoring the basic principles of the religion (fhonesty, forgiveness, faithfulness).
More worrying for me, is the demonisation of Islam on social media. I am not a Muslim, but I know many honest, decent and caring people who are. I believe that seeing their religion constantly being abiused by people who know nothing about it, is extremely dangerous. Given the history of this century, it would be naive and stupid to deny that there are a small minority of very dangerous radical islamists who have shown themselves to be hellbent on causing death and destruction. But they are a tiny minority in their community. There are similarly dangerous, mentally unstable people in all faith communities. The history of England has plenty of examples of religious crime. Sadly, if we look at nations such as the USSR and China, which adopted atheism as the national faith system, it is no better.
To me, the lesson is that unchecked power is the problem. Whether that power is hard power, as used by Donald Trump, or soft power, where people submit to "infallible religious authority" my view is that without checks and balances, people are repressed and death and misery follows.
I started this blog discussing The Tower of London. It's most famous entrance traitors gate, was where many entered to meet their fate. It may seem strange to some that the last person executed at the Tower was in living memory, was Josef Jakobs, a German spy, who was shot by a military firing squad on August 15, 1941. I believe that the term traitor is much misused. To me, a traitor is someone who willfully sells out friends or a principle for a degree of personal gain. My ancestor Chidiok Tichborne did not betray his beliefs. Of course if you try and assinate a monarch and get caught, it will not end well. But to me he is not a traitor. His poetry, inspired the final song on my bands new album. His poem, written the night before his execution, makes up the middle eight. This one is for you, my spiritual brother.
Traitors (To The Tower)
The darkest secret is the one that you hide from
yourself You're terrified that it will emerge from the back of
the shelf We built those walls of stone to keep the fear in But it's the cancer in our soul that denies the truth
of our sin
The tower holds the jewels But its meaning is a tool And behind the smiling face Are the darkest of places
The darkest secrets of our kings and queens
(The Tichborne Elegy) My prime of youth is but a frost
of cares, My feast of joy is but a dish of
pain, My crop of corn is but a field of
tares, And all my good is but vain hope
of gain; The day is past, and yet I saw no
sun, And now I live, and now my life
is done. My tale was heard and yet it was
not told, My fruit is fallen, and yet my
leaves are green, My youth is spent and yet I am
not old, I saw the world and yet I was not
seen; My thread is cut and yet it is
not spun, And now I live, and now my life
is done. I sought my death and found it in
my womb, I looked for life and saw it was
a shade, I trod the earth and knew it was
my tomb, And now I die, and now I was but
made; My glass is full, and now my
glass is run, And now I live, and now my life
is done.
The tower holds the jewels But it's meaning is a tool And behind the smiling face Are the darkest of places
When it comes down to it, I am a lucky sod. In my life I've been blessed wth the most amazing luck. It seems to me that even when things have been bad, they've always worked out well. So I think it justifies a list
1. I was meant to be born on the 5th October 1962. My mum became very unwell and I was induced and born in August instead. I was very ill, I had three blood transfusions.You may think that such a start to life would be a bad thing? For me, it was a massive stroke of luck. It meant that I was in the year before I should have been. I was, for most of my schooling, the smallest, weakest, thickest child in the class. Given that some of my classmates were actually over a year older than me biologically, it was difficult. But it had several bonuses. I didn't start school (which I hated) until the April, rather than in September. It also meant that I had some key friends in my year, who have played a massive part in my musical career. Had I been born when I should of been, I probably wouldn't have been friends with them.
2. I was the youngest of six children. This meant that I had two elder brothers and three elder sisters on my side in life. They influenced my musical career and have always supported me throughout my life. I'd be lying if I said I never argue with them, but I love them all to death.
3. My father was an Australian RAF war veteran. By any measure, my Dad was an absolute hero. He was a role model and instilled in me an unshakeable self belief. Dad always taught me to be self sufficient and trust my instincts. He taught me to never show fear, even when I was terrified. He taught me that in life we always have choices, but a bad choice today means a more difficult choice tomorrow. He always supported me and in our last conversation, he told me that he had thought me to be a useless waster when I was a teenager, but he realised he was wrong. He had mistalen my stubborness and self belief for just being a difficult contrary person, but he'd realised I was just living life to my own rules, which he approved of.
4. My Mother was the daughter of an Irish immigrant. She was fiercely intelligent. She was in many ways very difficult, especially towards the end of her life. However she had the right values in life and great self belief. She reinvented herself and did very well in business. She was unafraid of taking risks. Like my father she was a great role model. I genuinely believe that good parents are the most lucky thing you can have. Bad parents are the opposite.
5. Clare. Without my wife, I have no idea how my life would have panned out, but I know it would have been worse. She has always supported me, done the heavy lifting and the boring stuff and given me three great kids. I've never actually been sure whether she likes me, but I know she loves me.
6. My kids. Having great kids is the best blessing God can bestow on anyone. I never wanted kids, but was given no choice in the matter. Now I wish I'd had ten of the buggers. They are a joy I am a lousy father in many ways, but the all seem to love me.
7. My faith. I don't tak about it much, but I have a deep, personal relationship with God. I daresay a few of you reading this will think "Oh no, he's a nutcase". I get that but I find that when I do the right things, good things happen. I don't pray for money, cars or even football results. I just pray for the wisdom to make the right decision. It is strange how often when I do I get a moment of clarity and I see the right path. When I hear things like US Presidents saying God told them to bomb Iraq, I despair. I genuinely believe that is not how it works. Sadly, I think most promenant, vocal Christians are the worst advert for faith imaginable. For me, God isn't a bloke with a white beard. God is someone who, in quiet, reflectful moments, you may get a better insight into life from, usually in a way you least expect. Often, this comes at the most difficult and challenging moments. But I get it that not everyone sees it and if you think its all mumbo jumbo that's fine. So long as we all keep our minds open and we appreciate what we've got in life that is enough!
8. The False Dots. I genuinely cannot imagine life without my band. In some ways it has given me everything. I met the person I love at one of our gigs. I started my business so I could have somewhere to rehearse with the band. I persuaded my Mother not to sell the site where our studios are for a pittance in 1989, after my father died, so I could have somewhere to rehearse. Myself and my siblings now manage the site and it has proven to be an amazing investment. But most of all, it is such a blast. I am proud of the music we make and I love my bandmates..
9. SPL International. In 1983, I did a TOPS course in Computer Operations. I wanted to get a job with a stable income, so I could move in with my then girlfriend. At the end of the course, they set me up with interviews at various companies. The first two places I went were horrible. The third interview was with a software company called SPL International. I had no expectations of getting the job, but my then boss, Peter Sutherby liked me. The job was brilliant. I worked there for two and a half years. Another software company called Systems Designers took them over and sadly the vibe was gone, but by then I had a proper career.
10. Hadley FC. About eight years ago, my nephew suggested that I go with him to watch Hadley FC, a local Non League football team. I'd never heard of them. I thought it may be fun. When I got there I loved it. My main football team is Manchester City FC, who I've supported through thick and thin since 1968, but Hadley is something very different. I am a season ticket holder and a shareholder. I met Tom Hammond, our trumpet player there. Whilst I am a City fan, I am part of Hadley FC.
11. Cancer. How can it be lucky to have cancer? I got very lucky. When I was 49, Dr Cuttell at Millway surgery suggested I had "a well mans MOT". I was diagnosed with a non aggressive prostate cancer, following a high PSA test. I was put on active surveillance In 2015, it became aggressive and I had HIFU treatment. That addressed the issue until 2023, when it became aggressive again. I had a radical prostatectomy. Had I not had that PSA test, by now I'd probably have symptoms and be faced with very different choices. The year after I was diagnosed, the NHS stopped doing routine PSA tests.
12. My friends. How lucky am I to have the great friends I have? Some of them date from the day I walked into St Vincents School. Some I've got to know in the last couple of years (such as Tom our trumpet player). All have brought blessings to me.
13. This blog. I never set out to be a blogger, it happened by accident. Being dyslexic. I didn't think anyone would be interested in my blatherings. But it seems they are. I get a lot out of writing the blog. I've met great people and learned so much researching it. It is a form of therapy for me.
As I am sure you know, The False Dots releaased a new album last Saturday called "We don't live in America". Please have a listen
We made a short video trailer for it, have a look.
As an artist, a musician and a human being, I always want everything I do to be the best it can possibly be, I also balance that by the need to inject passion and feeling into my work. As a musician, I realised many yeaars ago that if you seek absolute perfection, you never finish anything. You also remove all of the energy and excitement from the music. The best example of this is if you listen to the first two albums by The Clash back to back. The first is badly produced, badly arranged and absolutely brilliant. The second was brilliantly produced by top US producer Sandy Pearlman, but completely lacking in the raw energy that made us all love the first album.
There are many parts of the modern recording process that I believe knocks the guts out of music. I say that as studio owner. If you are making dance music etc, then it is different, but I believe Rock and Roll, Reggae, Ska, Punk etc should maintain a degree of rawness and always be on the edge. You cannot be scared of failure and you cannot moderate what you have to say to fit someonelses pidgeon hole.
The False Dots last Album "Don't be afriad of a finger in the Sun" was at the time our best work. I am really proud of it, but it was very much a transitional album. Our trumpet player Tom Hammond only played on one track and had little input into the process. Tom's fingerprints are all over this, and it is a thousand times better for this collaboration. I talked about all of the song in our countdown, apart from the last one, Traitors. The album starts as upbeat and fun and as it goes on gets darker and more experimental. I have always believed an album takes you on a journey.
When I put the album together, I mentally wanted a journey. The album starts in a rather triumphal and fun way. We lay down our views in the first track, start introducing characters from the bands history in the second track, the third track see us start to get involved in the seedy world of Rock and Roll, but very much as innocents. Track four sees us starting to become cynical, as the scales drop from our eyes as to the nature of our modern capitalist society. Track five sees us our addictions changing as we grow older, with junk food replacing harder, more addictive things. Track six is a story our drummer Graham Rambo Ramsey told us about how he discovered Mod culture, and stopped watching TV sitcoms. It is written from the perspective of someone looking back on a long lost misspent youth.
Track seven is back to the current. It is a sharp look at urban regeneration and how it is done by people who have no interest in the quality of life of the people who live in the the developments. The sense disenchartment with the way things have developed is more pronounced, but we have an upbeat ska soundtrack, that is saying "music gets us through". Track eight is our celebration of Non League Football and the fans that have grown ever more alienated from "Big football culture". For myself and most of my friends. There is a line, credit to our former vocalist Allen Ashley "Saturday gets us through, on the green red against blue". This is true. For many of us, Football and music keep us sane.
Track nine is probably our most fun track. Big Hairy spider is pure silliness. A very personal song about when a teenage crush collides with reading too many horror comics and eating too much cheese late at night. It marks a pivot on the album from fun to more dark subject matter.
Track ten, Pusherman, is where the chickens come home to roost. In the mythology of Vampires, you have to invite them in. In the real world, I see the nearest thing to a Vampire to be unscrupulous drug pushers. There are plenty of references in our songs to casual drug use. This is where the chickens come home to roost and you find that you've got Satan sitting on your couch, canoodling with your girlfriend and you are too out of it to care. I've often thought that it would be great to go around and get hardocre dealers to tell their worst stories. This would be more effective than just saying no.
Track eleven is our blast at people who are unable to accept truth and facts. It as written in 1979, but could have been written yesterday.
And finally. I didn't preview this track in the coutdown - Traitors - I can recall that when Margaret Thatcher was deposed, I saw a Mill Hill Tory stalwart on the train home. He was almost in tears. He bitterly said to me "All political careers ultimately end in betrayal and tears". Traitors - The middle 8 was written in 1568, by an ancestor of mine, Chidiok Tichborne, as he awaited execution in the Tower of London, for being part of a plot to assassinate Queen Elisabeth I. I always felt he was a kindred spirit, although I've never really been tempted to assinated anyone. But it is the logical end of the journey. Life has all sorts of moments, but we all eventually come to face our Tower, betrayed, let down, failed. It is musically very different. It has a programmed drum beat. Rambo put some mad cymbals on after, to make it feel organic. Artistically, the thing I like most is the free form Jazz trumpet riffs at the end. It sounds to me like the soul has been freed of the worries of life and is just floating in the ether.
You make plans. Life gets in the way. I am a great believer that the big bloke up in the sky with the white beard has a plan and you have to listen. Sometimes, things come together, but you have to throw your plans out of the window and start again! We've been previewing the new album by The False Dots all week. Today is the one day to go mark. The song we were reviewing is called Wrong. But there is something I had to say that is more important than our album, but is dead on theme with the song today.
Let me start by introducing you to Woofus. This is Woofus in the studio reception this morning. He is a rather large 6 year old Staffie. His owners dumped him. He has a microchip. The owners were contacted by the police, who said they were not interested. The police were going to put him down, but despite his size and breed, he is a softy. They couldn't. They contacted my studio manager Darren's friend Suzie who works at an animal rescue centre, to see if they could help. Suzie fell in love. You may know Suzie if you watch animal documentaries. She is an expert snake handler and had her own series. She took one look at the dog, who was calle Rufus, renamed him Woofus, and took him on.
He is lovely. I got slobbered and kissed on arrival, by Woofus I hasten to add. Suzie was just dropping off a birthday present for Darren, but meeting Woofus was a real treat for me. I love dogs. I have two that are rescue dogs. I have strong views on the subject.
I personally would send people to prison who mistreat or dump dogs. I think dog welfare is something that should be taken seriously. I must add that it is not only dogs, this extends to rabbits, cats, pets and farm animals. In a civilised soceity none should be treated badly. I would like to see licences re-ntroduced for pet ownership. Anyone who genuinely loves animals would not object. I'd also have DNA registry, paid for by the licence, that means dumping animals is not an option.
What happen to Woofus, my dogs and countless other animals in the UK is wrong. I had a canvas for the track sorted, but I've regenerated it featuring Woofus, to make the point. Thank you big guy up in the sky for bring this all together so nicely. In the unlikely event that I ever make any money from the song, I'll donate a goodly chunk of my share to our local dog rescue centres. Here is Woofus joining The False Dots on guitar at The Horn music venue in St Albans. Some people are sniffy about AI generated videos, but for me, it means we can do this. And as for the song Wrong, it was the first song ever played by the False Dots at our first rehearsal in 1979. A real blast of Punk Anger. It never occurred to me before but in many ways, it sums up bad dog owners.
Wrong
Do you consider yourself a thinking person? Or an object for others to manipulate Nobody's immortal Nobody's irreplaceable You're Wrong You're Wrong You're Wrong You're Wrong!
To sum up
If you have a brain, take responsibility for your actions. Don't blame everyone else. Respect your responsibilities. Don't go to your grave being a prick. Rant over.
We have made Woofus an honoury member of the band!
Three days to go unti the launch of The False Dots new single "We don't live in America". Today we are previewing track 10 on the album, Pusherman (I'm the man). We have skipped track 9, Big Hairy Spider as it was the single from the album and has already been released (CLICK HERE TO WATCH THE VIDEO). Pusherman is an old song, which we've given a new lease of life. We recorded it in 2006, with a very different iteration of the band. Myself and Fil Ross were on guitar, Paul Hircombe (RIP) on bass and Tony Cavaye on drums. Charlie Honderick takes a guest turn on vocals. I like the version, which we released on our odds and sods album, but we felt that a more raw, updated version with Trumpet would work well.
It is a big song, a horrible song. Back in the mid 1980's I rented a room in a house share in Mollison Way. When I moved in it was pretty respectable, but a couple of housemates moved out and a couple of drug dealers moved in. The flat became a centre for dealing, which was awkward for me, as I had a respectable job, I moved out after three months, but I saw a few things that were totally beyond the pale. My actual flatmates were not too bad as people, but there were a couple of suppliers who were really hard core, with no respect for anyone or anything. I was fascinated to observe them. The first time I met them, I walked in when they were conducting business. Can you imagine walking into your own front room to be greeted with "Who the F**K are you?". During that period some of my vinyl went missing and on more than one occasion, I got in and went to bed to find someone crashed out in it.
I mentally noted their behaviour and wrote the song after watching an episode of Life on Mars, the series with Philip Gleinister. I cast myself as the Pusherman in it. We retitled the song "I'm the man" for the Odds and Sods release and changed the lyrics, as Charlie wasn't overly happy being the font of all evil. This is the full version in all its glory. It's all true, but I am acting the role, it is not me! The British love playing baddies and it is fun to sing it.
