Can you imagine a list with no entries! I've not been to a gig yet this year. In fact this is the first year since 1976 that I've not been to a gig. Would you believe it? However by the end of the year, I fully expect it to be rather longer, unless the grim reaper has other plans!
These are the ones I've been to/performed at, so far
NONE!
There are several in the offing. In the fullness of time these will, God willing move to the been to
21st January - Marky Ramone at The Dome
15th March - The False Dots and Those Naughty Lumps at The Dublin Castle
Every year, at the end of the year, I do a round up of the Gigs I've been to. When I hunt through the Instagram feed, I'm always amazed at how many great gigs I go to that I forget by the end of the year. This should make all that a lot easier.
At our gig on 15th March we will be releasing our brand new single, It's behind you! Here is a short preview
Over the years, The False Dots have done rather a lot of gigs, we get asked back quite a lot and many memories merge into one, but there are all manner of weird and wacky things that stand out. Most bands rehearse a set, go and play it and then go home or off to a party. It is more or less the same every time for the band. But for The False Dots, we are addicted to chaos. We've always tried to put the cat amongst the pigeons and we are pretty interactive with our audience, so things can get a little bit 'interesting'. In amongst the blur of memories, some stand out. In anticipation of our gig at The Dublin Castle tomorrow night, I have picked my top ten memories of gigs (You can see the full list of all our gigs here).
1. 31st January 1980 - Harwood Hall, Mill Hill. Our first gig. We put it on ourselves. All of my mates from Orange Hill School, where I was a pupil turned up, including my mates The Polecats. Half of Moat Mount also turned up, as our bassplayer Paul Hircombe was still at school there. It was packed and we wanted to impress our mates. We'd been rehearsing for nearly two years.
And then our lead singer didn't turn up. We had a quick chat and decided that we'd divvy up the songs and Craig the other guitarist and I would sing half each. As our singer had left and rejoined, it was not quite as difficult as it might have been, but we'd not rehearsed the set like this so it was very daunting.
We were all panicking, but we decided that we'd go ahead anyway. There were two other bands on with us. As we were getting ready to perform, in a state of near panic, to my horror, a reporter from the local paper turned up with a photographer. The journalist was Kevin Black, who went on to be a semi legendary music journalist. He was joined by Pete the photographer. I'd asked them down, but never dreamed they'd come. Here they were, in amongst the chaos. They gave us a great write up and Kevin was always a big supporter. We didn't mention about our singer. It actually all went rather well, but I will never forget the horror of when they turned up.
2. 3rd April 1981 - The Midland Arms, Hendon. This was our first 'big gig'. We were supporting a band called Way of The West, who had a new single out. It was Radio 1 single of the week. We'd done a couple since the gig mentioned above and were a much better unit. The gig was being promoted by Rob Armstrong of Tape Copying Services, a top banana. We brought a big crowd. A bunch of local skinheads turned up and seemed intent on causing trouble and heckling. I've never been a shrinking violet and so I met this head on. When we started playing, they all started doing silly dances, but rather than getting upset, I started egging them on. When we played the Heartbreakers song "I wanna be loved", I got a couple of them up on stage to do the "Ooh Ooh Ooh" bit. By the end of the show, they were our top fans. There was a cassette recording and they actually sang pretty good. Stupid dancing became a bit of a thing from then on. These days people do a conga at the end!
3. 18th July 1981 - Harwood Hall, Mill Hill. This was the worst gig we ever did. Everything went wrong. Our other guitarist Craig had left and been replaced by a looney called Captain Ubungus, who didn't bother to learn the songs. It was very ropey. A bunch of herberts from Burnt Oak turned up. Half way through our song Fog, one walked up to me and spat in my face. I reacted badly. I unstrapped my guitar and hit him over the head with it, knocking him out. It had the desired effect. They were a cowardly bunch and retaliated by letting off a fire extinguisher in the toilet, earning us a ban. After the gig, about five of them tried to ambush me as I waited for my Dad to come and collect the gear. As the trouble was about to start, my Dad turned up with a wheel brace. Seeing a giant Aussie nutter screaming at them made them lose their bottle and they ran away.
4. 18th January 1982, Pub Bastun, Aland, Finland. This gig was in the middle of our tour. Aland is an Island in the middle of the Baltic and was a duty free party haven. We were the first UK band to play there. The pub was a local music hangout. We had to play three sets. It was absolutely wild, probably the best gig we did in our first three years. We had a light show. To have enough songs, we played a few covers, including Space Cowboy by The Steve Miller Band. At the end, Mark used to do a Drum solo. We all jumped up on tables for this. The lights were cut and the light guy put a strobe on. The punters followed suit and every table had punters having a boogie as the strobe blinked. It was bonkers. As I surveyed the scene, I wondered if life would ever be as good again. After the gig, all of the punters said they'd never seen anything like it.
5. 27th August 1982, Bell Motor Cycle Club Rally, Elstree. The band had been in a bit of a hiatus. Our bassist Paul had decided to move to France. We had a booking for Bell MCC's rally. I rang Tony, who booked us, to cancel. He told us that the other bands had pulled out and asked if we could do something. So I spoke to Craig, and we agreed that I'd move onto bass and we'd learn some covers. We had to do two sets. I was a tad apprehensive, to say the least. We were not a heavy rock band and we were playing to 300 or so bikers. One of the songs was Sweet Jane by The Velvet Underground. When we started playing it, a massive Hells Angel at the back started to stare at me. He slowly walked from the back of the tent towards me. I though he was going to murder me. When he drew level, he pulled the large joint he was smoking out of his mouth and stuck it in mine! I didn't miss a note. The last song we did was Space Cowboy. All of the bikers started doing a mad dance, which we called The Mork Dance. A few of our friends came down and that became part of the set for a while, we even had two dancers to cheerlead! After we played, I had a chat with the biker. Turns out it was his favourite song. His wife had died of cancer and her name was Jane. He was a lovely bloke. Don't be deceived by appearances.
6. 28th January 1983, The Copper, Tower Bridge Road. Our roadie Derm had asked if he could perform a number with us. Derm was a big, good looking charismatic guy. He had decided, for reasons I can't recall, that he wanted to do a "Country and western rap song" called "The Dukes of Hazard Rap. We worked out a basic country chord progression and beat. Our then singer, Eleanor Caine was horrified when we told her that we were doing it as the encore. As we relied on Derms goodwill to drive us around, I explained it was non negotiable. The gig was pretty unremarkable until the point where Derm got up. Eleanor stood at the side, staring daggers at me. Derm came up, did his rap and then started getting everyone to do a line dance. It was completely bonkers. The pub guvernor told us he'd double our money if we did country and western music and line dancing for the next gig. We should have, but it was a one off.
7. 19th May 1990, St Josephs College, Mill Hill. This was the last gig we did in the 20th century. We had an amazing singer called Tony Robotham. I actually think the set was the best we had in that period. Tony could make anything sound great. The problem was the sort of music we were playing was out of fashion, so it was almost impossible to get gigs. However we were asked to play at St Josephs College. Even better, there was a real life Princess there. She was the Princess of Tonga and was a large black lady. To our amazement, when we started grooving, she jumped up and started dancing and didn't stop until we'd finished. The other band on with us were a rock band. She didn't get up at all when they played. She asked if we could do some more songs, as she was having a great time. As the other band had got us the gig, it was a bit delicate!
8. 27th July 2011, Mill Hill Music Festival, Mill Hill Sports Club. The False Dots always hosted an indie night as part of the festival. We had the amazing Connie Abbe on vocals. A bunch of my muso mates were present. When we finished, there was a demand for another song. We didn't have one, so we just started jamming on a blues riff. Paul Amsterdam jumped up with his sax and started blowing. I wanted a beer and I'd spied Bob Stout, a brilliant guitarist in the audience. I had a wireless rig, so I jumped off the stage and gave him my guitar. Connie was rapping and doing scat singing over it. The band was brilliant. I got my beer, then jumped up, grabbed a tambourine and we jammed for another ten minutes. I have this memory of listening to them jamming from the bar, and thinking "what a great band".
9. 15th September 2023, The Dublin Castle, Camden. This was the first gig we played with Tom Hammond on trumpet. Initially Tom only played on about half the songs. He came to a few rehearsals and fitted in. However one thing I've learned is that there is a big difference between sounding OK at rehearsals and being good live. At the time, we always used to start with our reggae/dub number Wacky Races. We started playing and from the second Tom blew his first note, I knew that the band was a million times better. We've not looked back, But that moment, and seeing the reaction of the audience was priceless.
10. 22nd June 2024, The Dublin Castle, Camden. We were supporting punk legends, The Bollock Brothers (feat Jock McDonald RIP). Tom couldn't make it, but we were doing a punky set. I think it was the moment we realised just how important Tom had become to our sound. It wasn't as good. But as a band, we always give it 100%. On the last number, Fil Ross, our bassist threw his bass guitar up in the air. To everyone's horror, he missed the catch and the neck of the bass snapped. It is an expensive Ibanez five string bass, so it was a shocking moment. Luckily, Fil is also a good guitar tech and he managed to glue it back on. But it was a horrific moment.
If you want to see the band, please come tomorrow to the Dublin Castle.
Last night, The False Dots played to a packed and raptuous audience at the Dublin Castle. It may possibly have been the best ever False Dots gig, certainly up there with our 2010 gig at The Purple Turtle in Camden with the amazing Sudanese singer Connie Abbe on vocals and our 1984 Dingwalls show with Venessa Sagoe on vocals. It may even have been as good as our 1982 gig in Aland, Finland at Pub Bastun, where there were drunken Fins dancing on tables. It got me thinking about my top ten memories of gigs with The False Dots. Most of these were not really musical moments, but they live long in my mind.
1. 18th July 1981. Harwood Hall, Mill Hill. A disaster all round. The PA guy let us down, there was a plague of aggressive and unfriendly skinheads, intent on trouble and a pervading air of violence. During one of our numbers, one of the skinheads walked up to me and spat in my face. I unstrapped my guitar, a Hofner Galaxy and belted him around the head, knocking him out. I then strapped the guitar back on and continued the song. Our bassplayer Paul Hircombe asked me afterwards if he'd imagined it, as I just carried on as if nothing happened. At the end of the show, I was waiting for my Dad to come to collect the gear, it was piled on the pavement and the skinhead returned with five mates, intent on revenge. I stood my ground and as they approached, I picked up a bottle of beer I'd been drinking. I was determined to not go down without a fight. At that moment, my Dad appeared with a crowbar, behind them. He was a fearsome ex RAF Aussie. He scared the living daylights out of them and they all ran away. My Dad was most complimentary about my nerve. I don't advocate such behaviour, but it was a moment I'll always remember. Ironically, some of those skinheads went on to become our biggest fans. My Dad said that sheep need a sheepdog to keep them in order.
2. 26th September 1981, Kenton Jewish Youth club. Our drummer, Mark Barnett was a member and got us a well paid gig. Until that point, the gigs had been pubs and church halls. We turned up and were amazed to see neat rows of chairs, a proper PA system and decent lights with a great light man (who allegedly had been poached from the Bandwagon for big bucks). It is probably the only time we played to a seated audience. We felt like Pink Floyd!
3. 16th Jan 1982, Pub Bastun, Aland, Finland. Aland is an Island in the Baltic sea. It is duty free, so is a real party haven in a highly taxed Sacandinavian see of anti alcohol policies. We played 3 sets and by the end, the fans were swinging off the chandaliers and dancing on tables. As we really had to scratch around to get enough numbers, we did a cover of Space Cowboy by The Steve Miller Band. At the end Mark Barnett did a drum solo. The lighting guy put on a strobe, Mark was playing the drums like gonzo from the Muppets, banging everything as fast as possible, but the strobe made it look in slow motion.
4. 27th August 1982, Bell Motor Cycle Rally, Elstree. We did this as a three piece, Myself on Bass, Craig Withecombe on vocals and guitar and Bill Lucas on Drums. It was mostly rock covers. Criag was a great guitarist and enjoyed the chance to do lots of solos. One of the numbers we did was Sweet Jane, by The Velvet Underground. As we started to play this, a huge Hells Angel at the back made eye contact with me. As the number reached its end he started to march towards me, a massive joint in his mouth. I was terrified. He was not someone to mess with. As we hit the last note, he was standing right in front of me, glaring. I thought he was going to kill me. He then took the huge joint from his mouth and put it in mine, saying "Well done son, that's my favourite song ever". He then marched to the back. After the show, I went for a chat with him. He was a nice bloke and really knowledgeable. I can never forget that.
5. 28th Jan 1983, Gooners club at The Copper, Tower Bridge. We had a little residency here. The last show we did there, we got our Roadie, Dermot Fanning up to do a number called The Dukes of Hazard Rap. It was a mash up of country and western music, with a rap over the top. Derm was a very good looking and charismatic guy and the place went mental. It really put the nose of our regular singer, Eleanor Caine out of joint, who said she'd leave if Derm did it again. In Hindsight, I wish she had and we'd got Derm in full time!
6. 28th Feb 1984, Dingwalls. This was the moment we thought we'd cracked it. We had worked really hard on the material and I thought we were amazing. Venessa Sagoe was a brilliant singer. The venue was packed and we did a 30 minute set. As we did the last number, there was an enormous cheer from the whole audience. It was the high point of the 1980's for the Dots.
7. 15th Jan 2010, The Purple Turtle, Camden Town. Until Connie Abbe joined the band in 2009, I'd sort of given up on the idea of doing big venues. We were happy doing the odd local gig for charity. Then Connie joined and all of a sudden, the False Dots became a red hot band. We played at The Purple Turtle, supporting the legendary Bollock Brothers, feat Jock McDonald. We blew the place away. I realised just how much I loved being on a big stage at an established venue. It was the best feeling since Dingwalls in 1984. When you have a band that is really kicking, there is no feeling like it.
8.13 December 2012, Friern Barnet Library. Connie left the band, I was feeling quite down. Our long time bass player, Paul Hircombe had died of cancer and I couldn't bear playing songs that reminded me of him. I was very involved in the Save Friern Barnet Library campaign. When the campaign won, I was asked to play a few numbers. I rang up well known author, Allen Ashley, who had been our singer in 1985 and asked if he fancied doing it. Allen was in the band when Paul was taking a sabbatical, so it was not songs I associated with him, which made it easier. He said yes, I got on to Graham Ramsey, our drummer from that era and Fil Ross stepped up on bass. In truth, we were not great, under rehearsed, and ring rusty, but it was a lovely night. What was really special was that my cousin Tessie, who is my age and lived with Downs syndrome came down and danced all night. Tessie was developing dementia and passed with covid in 2021. It is one of my best memories of her.
9. 6th November 2015, Fiddlers Elbow, Camden Town. Allen stayed and we started to develop a great new set of music. In 2015, I started the Save London Music campaign, to protect grassroots venues. The campaign got featured on the Robert Elms show on BBC Radio London. We had a launch party in The Fiddlers Elbow, Camden Town. It was a blast. I felt the band was back where it should be.
10. The Dublin Castle, 15th September 2023. First gig since cancer surgery on 9th August. I feel I've put it behind me, joyous to see so many friends. The place was absolutely rocking. The compliments after were joyous. Allen left the band during lockdown, last night was the first night with Tom Hammond on Trumpet. He is an amazing addition to the band.
We have three gigs lined up. We are supporting the Silencerz at the Bull Arts centre in Finchley on 28th October, Doing the Madchat meet Sat 4th November (noon start) at The Dublin Castle and back at the Dublin Castle for an Xmas special on Saturday 23rd December.
The Mill Hill Music Festival starts this Saturday, so for the next two weeks, this blog will be dedicated to the subject of music (have a look at the website and buy a few tickets, if you see anything that tickles your fancy!). Between now and the end of the festival, not only will I be previewing and reviewing various festival gigs, but you'll get the Big Barnet Music Quiz, where you can test your knowledge of the music history of the Borough of Barnet and bringing you some amazing clips of some of the best local gigs.
But we will start with by answering a question I was asked last week when I was giving out festival programmes in Mill Hill Broadway. One of my neighbours, not noted for his happy demeanour, refused a leaflet and said "why would I want to go to that when I can stay at home and listen to decent music on the telly?". Now I was tempted to say "Well you are a miserable sod and clearly in need of some fun in your life", but felt it would be a bit rude, so I just asked "Don't you enjoy a good night out?".
On reflection though, I realised that this was a very poor answer. Not least because going to gigs has little to do with "listening to music". In fact, he's 100% right. If all you want to do is listen to music, the best thing to do is spend a years wages on a super, duper hi fi set up and get yourself an album collection (see below for what I'd suggest to start it off). Then you can sit at home and enjoy the music with no distractions and get totally immersed in the sounds of genius musicians going about their business.
Watching live music is simply not like that. Attending a gig is being at a unique event, seeing people do something amazing, that has never and will never be done again. It is not a solitary activity like listening at home on the hi fi, it is a communal moment. For me, there are certain rituals, different for every artist, every venue. When I started regularly going to gigs, I was fourteen years old. I was into Punk Rock at Finchley Catholic High School. I was lucky enough to have a big sister who loved the same music and was four years older. Initially, I'd tag along with her and her mates. We'd meet at her flat, maybe have a drink. Everyone would get ready. For the girls, this meant transforming themselves into punk rock Goddesses. For the blokes, it just meant getting your brain into the right place.
Usually, we'd then stroll around to Mill Hill Broadway, get a 140 or 52 bus to Burnt Oak and take the Northern Line to the West End or Camden. Often, we'd meet up with other friends on the way. There were no telephones, so it this was co-ordinated days or weeks in advance. If it was The Marquee, we'd meet for a pint in the Ship. If it was The Roundhouse, we'd often get fish and chips or a Marine Ice over the road. Then we'd go in. The first thing to do was to get a beer. If there was a merch stall (not that common at small gigs, usually only at big gigs for tours, such as The Ramones), we'd have a look. During the punk era, we'd always watch the support bands. Often they would be on TOTP within months and you'd have the feather in the cap of being the first kid on the block to see them.
Between each band, you'd fight to get to the bar to top up. At those gigs, generally the quality of sound was pretty poor, but it didn't matter. What you were there for was to soak up the vibe. I was there when The Ramones recorded and filmed "It's Alive" at The Rainbow in 1977. There was much talk that this was going to be the best album ever. The Ramones live were sublime. By far the best band you will ever see. But if you listen to the album and watch the film, it gives no real idea of just how buzzing the venue was.
Only hard core Ramones fans would most likely play it. Their first three studio albums are masterpieces and these are probably far better for the front room. The gig was amazing, but without the sights, sounds, smells, alcohol, haze of smoke, blokes treading on your toes, punkettes smiling at you seductively at the bar and 28 minutes of frantic pogoing, it was just four blokes making a pleasant noise on the stage. There is no rewind to see the best bits again. If you go to the loo when they do your favourite number, that is it. If you are pogoing and Johnny Ramone throws you his plectrum, or Eddie Edwards from the Vibrators throws you his drumstick, that is something only you will ever have.
But best of all is the communal sharing. The being in a moment. The nod to the person next to you as you see something amazing. The snatched conversation in the queue for the urinal, where you share insights into the relative merits of the support band.
Then there was my ritual for going home. I'd always try and nick the band's poster off the wall and had about a 99% success rate. If there were T-shirt sellers outside, I'd make a cheeky offer, knowning that the stock would be dead after the night. This works especially well on the last night of the tour.
Then we'd pile on the Northern Line home. As the train approached Burnt Oak, it would thin out. By the time we were on the bus, usually it was just our little gang again. You wouldn't feel like bed, the adrenalin would be pumping, so you'd nip back, usually for a cup of tea. You'd compare notes, swap stories and by the time you went to bed, often at 2am, you'd feel right with the world.
Nowadays, my routine is different, as you'd expect from a 60 year old. I still prefer travelling by public transport. An advantage of living in Mill Hill is that there are great public transport links. If we are meeting friends, we would meet at a pub, cafe or restaurant first. As I tend to go with my wife, I don't go there to chat up anyone as I did as a teenager, but we often bump into friends. If the gig finishes early, we may grab a drink atfer, but usually the night ends by walking the dogs when we get home.
Back in 2009, I made a list of my top ten best gigs. I'm pleased to announce that since then there are at least four that may well make the list, or maybe a top twenty is needed. These include Eli 'Paperboy' Reed at The 100 club, The Family Stone at The Jazz Cafe, The Specials/Toots and The Maytells at Hatfield Uni and The Silencerz at the Mill Hill Music Festival to name a few. Last week, I saw Ben Sidran at Ronnie Scotts and Madness at Cannock Forest. I can't think of two more different gigs. I had great time at both, I'm not sure I'd bother watching either on Youtube. I certainly wouldn't be bopping in my front room to Madness, or have the appreciation of the electric atmosphere Ben Sidran generated.
Both are, in my opinion, far batter live than on records (or youtube clips). On Sunday, I was invited by Fr Eugene at The Sacred Heart church to plug the Mill Hill Music Festival at one of the masses. I said a few words and ended with the words "The festival is run by local unpaid volunteers. It is run on a not for profit basis and the only reason we do it is to put a smile on your face, and what could be better than that". A spontanious round of applause broke out and when I got home, found we'd sold 20 more tickets.
Which brings me back to my grumpy neighhbour's question. What I should have said is "Because you will leave with a smile on your face, and who wouldn't want that?". At the start of this blog, I promised a list of albums that you really should get to start your collection. CLICK HERE to see my suggestions. This will give you a taster of what albums shaped what is in our charts. I wrote this in 2020. In hindsight, it should be a top 12. There really should be a Jazz album in there, what I do not know, as I am not a Jazz buff and don't know what album shaped Jazz. It should also have a RAP/Hip Hop album in there. I'd probably choose Raising Hell by Run DMC, but again it's not waters I've done more than dip my toe in.
I suppose I should sign off by mentioning my band, The False Dots, We've done a countless gigs over the years. I met my wife at one 38 years ago and we are still happy. I love playing as much as I love attending gigs. If you've seen the band recently, you'll know why. When we do a good gig, I am buzzing for a week. I'd not swap the feeling for the world.
