Junk Archive

Kevin Rowland

The tragedy of old age, wrote Oscar Wilde, is not that one is old, but that one is young. At the age of 58, another Anglo-Irish hero, Kevin Rowland, has reassembled Dexys for their first concert in nine years and their first album in 27 to present a suite of songs which are all, at heart, about what it’s like still to be having “young” feelings on approaching old age.

One Day I’m Going to Soar is the soul album of the century. In it, Rowland deals with what it’s like when you’re deep into middle age but your blood is still pumping.

Tonight’s show will begin with the new album in its entirety. It’s a tribute both to the devotion of Dexys fans and the quality of the new songs that this never feels a chore. The current line-up of Dexys – they’ve dropped the “Midnight Runners” – includes three other members who served time in the 1980s: keyboardist Mick Talbot, former bassist Pete Williams who is now secondary lead singer, and trombonist “Big” Jimmy Paterson. The live band, which also includes drummer Dave Ruffy from The Ruts and Aztec Camera and Sean Read of Manic Street Preachers, look snappy in their fedoras, zoot suits and brogues.

The album is presented with a theatricality that puts 99 per cent of other bands to shame. Kevin, stamping the boards with an assassin’s swagger, inhabiting the songs, with Williams by turn his confidant and his guardian angel. As well as soul-baring, confessional drama, there are also moments of unexpected high comedy. The legendary yelping is now far more controlled, and when he springs up from a high-backed wooden chair to nail the line “I am so lost”, it’s breathtaking.

The centrepiece of Soar is a five-song movement about his inability to love, starring the New Zealand actress and singer Madeleine Hyland. It begins with the smitten single “She Got a Wiggle”, continues with “You”, in which he falls to his knees to serenade a projection of her, and “I’m Thinking of You”, in which he admits to “setting up my sham” in the past. When she appears in person for the duet “I’m Always Going to Love You”, he greets her with a “mmmm” noise that’s the vocal equivalent of Vic Reeves’s knee rub, only to get cold feet once he’s won her over. In a snarling, woman-scorned singing voice, she gives him the talk-to-the-hand treatment: “Kevin, don’t talk to me … You saw me as a challenge.” By the time we’re into “Incapable of Love” and he hedges by proposing an open relationship, she growls: “I’m not stupid.”

The moral of the story? Maybe it’s the moment in “Free” when Kevin leans over the monitor wedges and confronts every unhappily married man in the house who is “tolerating misery”. He wraps up with the superb “It’s OK John Joe”, a mostly spoken meditation on solitude, but even that contains a self-aware laugh.

A standing ovation earned, then we’re into the classics. A connoisseur’s set rather than a hits set, it begins with a lyrically altered “Old” (“Are you placid now you’ve lost the fight?”), “Until I Believe in My Soul” (sung an octave lower) and “Tell Me When My Light Turns Green”.

After “I Couldn’t Help It If I Tried” and “Liars A to E”, there’s a crowd-pleasing and elongated “Come On Eileen”, and an utterly astonishing encore. “This Is What She’s Like”, the centrepiece of 1985′s Don’t Stand Me Down album, starts with Williams asking “What’s she like?” to which Rowland replies, with deadpan self-awareness: “How long have you got?” The answer is at least 12 minutes, because we get the full devotional epic. When he asks for permission to “express myself”, the outburst of ecstatic laa-laa-laas says more than words ever could.

I wonder how Kevin Rowland must be feeling when he awakes after so triumphant a comeback. If you could bottle that and sell it, you’d conquer the world.

Simon Price 

This review orignally appeared in the Independent

The Winner We Want To See

Wolves new adventure in the Championship next year will seemingly start with their first foreign manager in place – the former Norwegian international Stale Solbakken – or as a friend’s son questioned ‘who’s this Stale Bacon?’ What lies in store for the man who’s only experience in England is a handful of games for Wimbledon surprisingly under their own  maverick, Joe Kinnear rather than fellow countryman Egil Olsen.

Solbakken is only 44, and his playing career began in his native land, ending up with Lillestrom in the top league where he won a midfielder of the year award in 1995. A move to Premier League Wimbledon followed but after six game he fell out with Kinnear and was banned from the club. A move back to Scandinavia followed when he joined Aalborg in Denmark, where again a player of the season award was won as he lead the team to the title in 1999. A move to the capital club FC Copenhagen in 2000 was meant to lead to even bigger things, working under new England manager Roy Hodgson.  Fates were to intervene and after only 14 games he suffered a heart-attack in training aged only 33. Much like Fabrice Muamba his heart had stopped and he was luckily revived in the ambulance. This lead to the fitting of a pacemaker and the end of his playing career, having also won 58 caps for Norway.

Not Afraid Of The Big Names - "C'mon Pep, Let's 'Ave It"

One would think that the last thing someone recovering from a heart-attack needs is the stress of a manager’s job, but in less than a year Solbakken was in charge of his old Norwegian side HamKam, where he won promotion as champions – a good omen surely – and then lead the unfancied team to 5th place, picking up a coach of the year award on the way. This lead to a move to another former employer, FC Copenhagen where he must have felt there was still unfinished business. What followed was the success that has cemented his reputation with five Superliga titles in six seasons, including a 2009 double and Copenhagen’s most successful run in the Champions League. Ambitious he announced his desire to take on the Norwegian national coach’s job, or a move overseas. Worringly his style of play was not entirely appreciated despite the success. A quote on UnaX.dk under the heading ‘The Reign Of Boredom Must End’, said in 2007: “ Ståle Solbakken, who I feel have intoxicated our (by our, I mean the fans of FC København) lives, with horrible play, with no fantasy, no technique and letting near 99% of the games be decided by pure chance and luck.”

It was FC Cologne that offered the opportunity. After a difficult 2010/11for the club,  the underachieving side were looking for a new direction and brought in Solbakken. It seems that his rigourous training methods did not sit well with an egotistic team who had been unused to drill and such restrictive methods. The team got off to an awful start, conceding goals that were to return to haunt them later in the season. The team were expected to use a zonal marking system which didn’t suit some of the bigger name players such as Podolski and Novakovic. Solbakken himself said after their second victory in the derby v Leverkusen -”I believe they think that we’re practising tactics too much, but I feel that we need practise more of it,” and went on to say. “Too many players want individual roles in the team, rather than to do the necessary jobs for the group.” The team seemed to rally a little but inconsistency was always the problem. At the mid-season break Cologne had climbed to a mid-table 10th, losing 8 and winning 6 but having conceded 35 in 17 games the highest number of goals apart from the bottom team. After the break, one win in the first eight games and eventually only 8 points taken from 13 games sealed his fate – to rejoicing from the fans Solbakken was sacked after a 4-0 reverse at Mainz- but Cologne’s fate was also sealed as they only won a further point and were relegated.

Podolski Goes for Solbakken After Getting a Red Card

Cologne Fans Take Relegation In their Stride!

And now he’s at Wolves. Chairman Steve Morgan has said he will back the new man with funds to get back up to the Premier League, but Solbakken will discover very few egos in the current squad anyway. The team are used to working hard but do need a touch of quality and need to be defensively stronger. If Solbakken is an advocate of Hodgson’s famed regimented and repetitive training methods than this can only be a good thing and we can only hope that this leads to a defence who don’t look like they have only just met on the bus to the game. It’s reported that Solbakken will watch the weekend’s game at Wigan – I only hope the batteries in his pacemaker are fresh!

A Fighter?

Welcome to Wolves Stale – best of luck in making this stay in the Championship a short one!

Calverhall Cricket Club - Shropshire

A couple of years ago someone told me that there were over ninety cricket grounds in Shropshire. Now that is quite some statistic. Talk about an alternative ’92 Club’.  Quite clearly this has nagged away and I think the time is right to either prove or disprove it.

So with a slate grey sky and temperature gauge in the car barely registering 8 Celsius I found myself motoring north out of Telford towards Whitchurch on the A442. In recent years the cricket season has commenced in lovely sunshine with mini heat waves and myths about the number of layers fielders should wear and icicles hanging from bails was blown out of the water, but not this year. 2012 is a throwback to the cold old days.

I’d never been to Calverhall. But it looked pretty simple to find on the map with the cricket ground edging the main road in the middle of the village. But I missed it. So to did the team mates following. An elderly lady, tending her garden and accompanied by a ferocious Alsatian straining on its leash, put us right. Fortunately the information she imparted was simple and to the point as the dog looked dangerously manic. “Turn around, it’s between the pub and the church”.

Today Calverhall second eleven were hosting St Georges fourth eleven in division six of the Shropshire Cricket League.  There was just enough time to get changed, be introduced to team mates and  before the umpire could declare ‘play’ yours truly was at third man pondering if a t-shirt,  club top and a cable knitted jumper would be enough protection from the brisk northerly.  With our ring rusty opening quick delivering eight ball overs it looked like a long afternoon in the field. Then it began to hailstorm.

Perhaps the ground was not at its best today. But it definitely was not unpleasant with its church overlooking proceedings and brand new pavilion on the verge of completion. At the far end a few houses bordered the boundary including one resident who spent an hour enthusiastically cutting logs with a buzz saw that grated incessantly. Why the owner of a modest detached house was stockpiling logs in the middle of a British spring as if he was preparing for a Newfoundland winter was not only utterly bemusing but bloody annoying too.

St Georges IV’s had a tough time of it last year, failing to register a victory so it was with some surprise to see the hosts  skittled out for 112. After tea the visitors commenced their innings.  A few hiccups later St Georges eventually reached the target with the Heath father and son combo putting on a match winning partnership of forty seven. The younger of the pair registered a much deserved fifty on a ‘difficult’ wicket and the first St Georges fourth eleven victory since 2010 was secured.

As I was putting this together I discovered an odd fact. England test player, the Reverend Clem Wilson, was vicar at Calverhall prior to his death in 1944.  The Yorkshire CCC first class amateur played  two tests for England on the 1898-99 tour to South Africa shortly before he was ordained and lost to first class cricket. But on this desolate afternoon the gods were clearly shining on St Georges.

Jim Heath

Full scorecard here.

Fast Tube by Casper

For those of you who think that Swedish garage punk started with the Hives I urge you to think again.

Way before them, in 1981, and hailing from Solna, Sweden, The Nomads emerged onto a fledgling garage scene, snarling and spitting their MC5 type guitar licks and aggression. Based upon Nick Vahlberg’s vocals and Hans Ostlund’s lead guitar, aided and abetted by Frank Minarik on Farfisa organ and a rhythm section of Ed Johnsson and Tony Carlsson on drums and bass respectively, The Nomads produced a cacophony of sound that made them stand out from other notable bands on the Swedish garage scene – bands like The Watermelon Men, The Creeps, Hidden Charms, The Sinners, The Bottle Ups, The Shoutless, Slobster and The Bangsters. To my ears the Nomads always had better tunes, not to mention Ostlunds sub Johnny Thunders guitar, to give them that little extra oomph when they recorded or played live. They have put out many an album over the years but my favourite early album was Outburst, (1984) as it contains some absolute classic garage punk numbers on it like MilkCow Blues and Real Gone Lover.

1987 saw them release another quality release – Hardware – an album that had more of a ‘60s garage feel to it, with Minariks organ being turned right down in the mix, allowing for more twin guitar duels between Ostlund and Vahlberg, who also played a mean Fender.

The Decadent Hans Ostlund

For me in England it was relatively easy to get these early album releases, as the Virgin Megastore in Oxford Street used to have a Swedish garage section in their huge shop – luckily for me it was next to their German punk collection – I kid you not. Unfortunately, Virgin soon decided to stop stocking their material and I was reliant on famous Swedish Wolves fan, Tomas – who went to school with Vahlberg and was an old friend of his – to bring their records over when he attended Molineux. Good old Tomas, an impossibly skinny bloke with long blond hair and always dressed in tight black jeans and a Denis the Menace red mohair jumper, was always free and easy with the vinyl, although going to the bar was another matter!

The Nomads did come over to England occasionally in the middle 1980s and I remember seeing them at the Marquee and also the Garage – where I was deafened for a week after banging my head (don’t ask) against the monitor in time to the song Surfin In The Bars.  Live they really were the real deal, dripping with rock’n’roll attitude and with power chords to match.

With their sound being heavily influenced by the likes of The Stooges and The New York Dolls, I guess it was only a matter of time before they went into the studio with one of their heroes and so it was that Johnny Thunders contributed some guitar solos on the song Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls (1989) – on the album All Wrecked Up shortly before his untimely death in 1991.

Towards the end of the 1980s their records lost a tad of their heaviness – an inevitable consequence of ageing I guess, although they did put out a great record in 2001 – Up-tight – a real return to form for the Swedish garage Gods.

In later years they have received the acclaim their earlier material warranted, with more modern bands, such as The Hellacopters, acknowledging their influence on the Swedish garage scene. A tribute album, featuring bands like The Dictators was also released – in 2003 – as the rock world paid homage to a band that should have been much bigger on the European stage.

To this day they are still going, still cranking out their dirty old rock’n’roll songs and still armed with their grungy guitars and two fingers to the world attitude – for me the perfect combination.

If anyone wants to check them out you can get a couple of really good Nomad compilation albums – Showdown (1994) and Showdown 2 (2002). The first features material up to 1994 whilst the second one concentrates on later recordings. However, be careful if you are trying to locate their material, as there is an ambient type band that also goes by the name of The Nomads – no guitars on show but lots of hippy noise – avoid!      

Bobby Smith

   
Fast Tube by Casper

London Zoo Supports the Big Day!

There’s not much that would get me out on a Sunday morning and heading for Bermondsey, but after Paul and Stuart committed themselves to running the Marathon this year, there was no other place to be on April 22nd. As we headed for Jamaica Road, only stopping for a half pint of cockles from the seafood stall, it was amazing to see just how many people had turned out to watch the event. The elite runners, lead by the stunningly superfit East Africans, had long since passed and now the event was turned over to the real stars – the amateurs who put themselves through a gruelling schedule of training, running, injury and pain to prepare for this one day.

As we grabbed our beers from the appointed meeting point – the Old Gregorian pub, we discovered it was at least three deep at the roadside and the idea of draping the flag and staking our place was not going to be as easy as expected. We crossed through the subway and found it slightly emptier and got a good space in which we expected to spot our heroes as they came past. We were then struck by problem two – how do we spot them? There were times when a few would pass but by and large the road was swelled with runners, many in the same running kit supporting Alzheimer’s – this was going to be a tester!

The sheer variety of people running was awesome – not in the American compliment sense but in the truest possible way. There were young and old, male and female, fit and lean and a few that looked as though they were thinking twice! In particular you imagine that those who sat with some mates and thought ‘I know I’ll run as a Smurf, or with a packing crate on my back,’ must have thought why didn’t I just shut up! The runners that first came past us looked mainly like club members and were making a serious impact on their own Personal Bests. One particular runner was struggling badly, as he staggered and seemed unaware of his surroundings! He fought off attempts to support and help him, but fell into the arms of the waiting St John’s Ambulance people, offering their magnificent support as they do at many sporting events. A couple of runners went past wearing Wolves shirts and my encouraging cheers of ‘C’mon the Wolves’ brought smiles and acknowledgement, on the day the team were relegated! Some spectators were looking for the cast of TOWIE that were running but as I wouldn’t recognise them if they bought me a pint, I only saw Ewan Thomas from the celebrity pack.

After about 30 minutes I suddenly spotted Paul on the oposite side of the road, and as we all called out ‘Coop’ he looked back and turned against the tide to come over to us for a round of back-slapping and fist pumping. Considering we were at about Mile 11 he was looking good and fresh and was clearly pumped with adrenaline. We were filled with confidence of his ability to complete the course. Now we had to wait for Stuart. We knew he wouldn’t be matching Paul’s pace, but we were concerned about his fitness giving out, even before reaching us. We should have had more faith as in about another 45 minutes he appeared and rushed over for a hug. Although not looking as good as Paul, his headband’s message of Run, Walk, Crawl, Finish summed up his attitude. I was alarmed to see his iPod on his arm as I wondered how a diet of Bon Jovi, Scorpions, ToTo, Foreigner  and the near legendary Glenn Medieros would encourage anyone to keep up the pace – but Stuart kept on going.

We had a short beer break then headed for Westminster to try and catch the finish. The crowds were massive and all along the Embankment the barriers were clogged with well-wishers. Luckily for us as friends or family went through, people would move away and we took a prime slot along the railings, allowing the famed London Zoo flag to be draped over. Again we had a short wait, scanning faces and shirts, remembering other runners who had preceded Paul, until we caught sight of him again. This time he didn’t seem to recognise us straight away, but as we all cheered loudly he looked back and waved. His former energy had gone over the 14 miles since he had bounded past In Bermondsey. We could see the supreme effort that was willing him through the last mile or so and which would see him over the finishing line.

A Lot Of Effort Went Into Getting This - And The Medal Was Quite Hard To Get Too!

We left to head for the pub, which was thick with competitors enjoying their well earned brews. On the way we were amazed yet again, as we saw the man who had been looking so ill in Bermondsey still pushing through towards the finish, he was going to make it too. Paul texted us his finishing time and we made a few personal sacrifices in drinking four pints of London Pride to secure a souvenir medal box for him. Stuart would come in a couple of hours later, but had also done supremely well, in view of his training problems.

It was quite an experience to watch the efforts made for many charities and personal goals and each and every runner deserves congratulations, but we were all especially proud of our two lads who had done such a good job and have raised almost £10,000 for the Alzheimer’s Society, such a good cause – Nice one Coop and @!

So now that he has fully recovered it’s over to Paul who completes his Marathon blog with the story from his raceday –   Read how it went here

You can still boost his sponsorship total, so  go to his Sponsorship Page and give him your support –  http://www.justgiving.com/Paul-Cooper10

The Clash in 1976

A new exhibition of punk era photographs is being hosted at the Rock City Gallery in Bedford over the next month featuring  the work of former Record Mirror photographer Steve Emberton.

Steve was the staff photographer at Record Mirror in the 1970’s and also shot for NME & Sounds magazines too.His photographic journey only spanned the short period from 1974 until 1979 and was fortunate enough to shoot the tale end of the Bolan/Queen/Rod Stewart Glam Era and right through the whole of the Punk explosion in England.

Rolling Stone magazine selected his famous portrait of Sid and Nancy for their 50th Anniversary of Rock,50 Greatest Portraits Issue (Sept 2004) alongside the work of Richard Avedon, AntonCorbijn, Herb Ritts, David Bailey & Annie Leibovitz.

The show will be featuring some never before seen images of The Sex Pistols, Billy Idol, Iggy Pop, Lou Reed, Debbie Harry and Siouxsie Sioux to name but a few.

“I am really pleased to have this opportunity to share my collection of Punk images with lovers of the 70‘s Punk music scene. Hopefully it will re-kindle people’s memories to those of you who experienced it first hand and act as an introduction to a new generation of music fans.” said Steve.

A book to accompany Steve’s show at Rock City Art with a foreward written by Richard Jobson from The Skids is available from the gallery for £15. The book is limited to 100 copies only.  The show runs until 20th May.

The show is free to enter and is at  Rock City Art, 26, Castle Lane  Bedford            MK40 3US 

tel. 01234 910448

info@rockcityart.com

Billy Idol - Generation X

The Prisoners – arguably the most influential British band over the past thirty years? A bold statement but one I stand by, as The Prisoners have been cited as an influence by bands as diverse as The Charlatans and The Horrors. To my mind it is due recognition for a band that emerged from the Chatham music scene from 1980. When the band first gained publicity via the music press I was immediately attracted to their strange throwback sounds and saw them live loads of times in the early ‘80s. Their audience was very varied back in those days – with ‘spot the youth cult’ being a game that anyone could play. However, I can still remember being castigated for liking the Prisoners by a couple of punks that I then knew, as they were regarded as a ‘Mod’ band and therefore off-limits for a hardcore punk rocker such as myself. I always disagreed, seeing them more of a fusion of ‘60s beat, psychedelia and The Small Faces.  Whatever genre people labelled them, though, one thing was for sure – they knew how to get a crowd dancing around as their music was just so damn infectious.

The Prisoners were formed in 1980 and based around singer/guitarist Graham Day, for my money the best English songwriter since the Seventies. Very much a musician’s musician, Day’s Kinks style guitar lines dominated their songs, supplementing his soulful vocals and a snappy line in suits. The other band members, Alan Crockford on bass, James Taylor on organ – he of the James Taylor Quartet fame – and drummer Johnny Symons, concocted a sound that was just so groovy. Seriously, I used to come out of their gigs with aching hips, as I half pogoed/jived around the dance-floor. Sadly, for me, I will always remember Graham Day stopping a song – at the Marquee club in Wardour Street – after a few numbers, to admonish me for dancing the wrong way! Cringing with embarrassment I slunk off to the bar for a pint of cider, or more likely, given it was 1984, a swift peach schnapps.

Rapidly building up a following in their native area of Rochester, The Prisoners soon released their debut album A Taste Of Pink (1982) – a superb blend of power pop, ‘60s Northern Soul and heavy guitar lines. Without a doubt this record cemented their position as one of the bands to see in the early 1980s, with their existence known by most on the alternative scene. Building on from the first albums success they released a brilliant four track EP, Electric Fit (1984) – including the dead catchy track Melanie – and went on to produce a more adventurous second album The Wisermiserdemelza (1983) a wild mixture of songs that included a trumpet on one track and a more psychedelic feel on the others. Two things, however, remained the same; Day’s voice, a rocking and a rolling train ride on the fast track of life and James Taylors unfashionable Hammond organ.

After the second album they garnished more acclaim from a media desperate for something fresh and new, leading to an appearance on The Tube – an influential music programme that could probably do with an appreciation on Junk Archive all by itself. Lumped in at the time with bands such as The Milkshakes and Thee Mighty Caesars, I would always put The Prisoners on a different plane, as they had songs that set them apart from their garage punk contempories. For some reason they also often found themselves on the bill with psychobilly bands and even, at the Kentish Town and Country Club, with New Model Army. I don’t think the clog brigade took them to heart that night, although I thoroughly enjoyed seeing two of my favourite bands live on the same bill.

Most Prisoners fans, though, consider their third album to be their best, The Last Fourfathers (1985) and with good reason. Listening to this album now it is obvious they were a band on top form, the melodies, tunes and attitude are just so together on this release and Day has never sounded better, either when lamenting a lost love in Whenever I’m Gone or being vengeful on Who’s Sorry Now. The sparse production just adds to this records class and it is a great way to start if readers of this column are curious as to picking up one their albums.

After this the band signed to Stiff records and the world seemed theirs to conquer. Sadly, world domination never materialised and their last studio album In From The Cold (1986) failed even to send their loyal following into raptures – with many branding it as over produced and a sell-out. For me this is harsh, as the record still sounds fresh and with that trademark Prisoners snarly guitar. The organ is pushed up in the mix, that is true, but the songs still reverberate with passion and aggression.

After this album the Prisoners split up, with only a comeback single Shine On Me (1997) and the odd reunion gig being left to remind us of a band that should have been massive. I think they were just unlucky to have been around at a time when garage music was not so highly thought of. They really would have cleaned up if they had been in their prime when the likes of The White Stripes burst onto the music scene.

Graham Day has continued to make music – in bands like The Primer Movers, The Solar Flares and the still going Graham Day and the Gaolers.  To be honest, if you ever liked The Prisoners you would love these bands as well – as they sound remarkably similar to Chatham’s finest.

Bobby Smith

Fast Tube by Casper

Melanie by The Prisoners.

The history of the Town House can be nicely split into two eras – the sixties and the seventies. The two decades define this venue perfectly, representing the social and cultural changes the UK went through in a microcosm. We look back at some of the artists who played there and the impact it had on this small but busy market town in Shropshire.

The main ballroom was opened in 1960 and was a major development for J W Heath & Son Ltd who had traded in the town for close on a hundred years. Up until this time the business consisted of a restaurant, bakery, coffee bar and patisserie. The new 360 capacity ballroom took the establishment to a new level. Situated slap bang in the middle of Wellington’s main thorough fare and backing onto the railway station, the Town House was perfectly positioned.

The first regular event, launched on Saturday 25^th June 1960, was the Dance Club. This Saturday night date proved to be  popular with the good folk of Wellington as the crowds flocked to quickstep, waltz and cha cha to Frank Clayton’s five piece dance band. With its state of the art ‘spring’ floor the ballroom was soon attracting bookings for weddings, works dinner dances and private receptions. The potential of the new investment was clear and inspired by a visit in the late fifties to see Frank  Sinatra  in New York and a more recent show by Peggy Lee at London’s Pigalle Theatre Restaurant in Piccadilly, proprietors Terry and Mary Heath were keen to promote high profile artists at the Town House.

Humphey Lyttleton and Frank Clayton with their respective combos

Humphrey Lyttleton fitted the bill perfectly and during the early sixties he and his jazz band were regular performers. The launch of Sunday’s ‘Drumbeat Club’ for a younger audience the Town House was soon capturing the mood of the nation and bringing the latest sounds to Shropshire. Local band the Dell Quays and a combo from Shrewsbury called the Dee Jays belted out passable covers of Beatles hits, which even if it did not quite  make up for the venue missing out on an appearance by the Fab Four, certainly established the venue as one happy to move with the times and cater for modern tastes.

In 1966 an extension was built providing a grand entrance, smart foyer and an additional bar which enabled the Town House to attract bigger artists and with house DJ,  local mod Cyril Wood, spinning the discs or more specifically selecting them from the iconic Seeburg jukebox, there was an eager following awaiting. A sell out show by Arthur Conley in 1967 was a milestone with his hit ‘Sweet Soul Music’ becoming a signature tune for the venue. More soul stars from the states including Junior Walker, Jimmy Ruffin, Percy Sledge, Bob & Earl and the great Wilson Pickett followed establishing a strong legacy.

In many ways it was a cultural revolution of some distinction for the otherwise sleepy and conservative market town. The local youth had found its identity with imported pop music and delivered like a bolt from outer space by black America. This was a strong and powerful image.Wellington was by no means unique as many pockets around the country shared the same experience and the sounds of the sixties reached across the nation through developing mass media , but that direct exposure had a resonance that would last a generation.

Jimmy James and the Vagabonds 1968

The oval shaped ballroom had some great features. It was on the first floor (the bakery and kitchens were underneath) and having climbed the stairs you would enter through the swing doors to face the main bar. The stage was on the right  about half way across. Keeping an eye on proceedings was the sultry figure of Bridget Bardot as her larger than life portrait stared down from the back wall. Together with the mirror ball and the gorgeous chandeliers it gave the venue, now known simply as ‘Terry Heaths’, its own definitive identity.  But the boss didn’t always get it right. In 1969 Fleetwood Mac were booed off with the locals finding the slow tempo blues not to their liking. This act of dissent in some ways said a lot about how much the audience had grown to adore soul music and how defiant they could be.

Mod outfits such as Amen Cormer and the Elastic Band fared much better and following PA’s by Emperor Rosko and John Peel, Thunderclap Newman went down a storm. Perhaps the audience was maturing. Interestingly, throughout the sixties the venue rarely had seen any trouble and the security was low key. The main emphasis was on the music, dancing and sheer escapism. As the end of 1970 approached and a final salvo by the late great Lee Dorsey, Terry Heath handed over the reins of the Town House. It was certainly the end of an era. Another one was about to explode.

Jim Heath

Jim grew up in the shadow of the Town House. Read his blog recounting memories of the venue from 1973.

Just Stay Close to Him, Lads!

So the months have turned to weeks, and now the weeks to days. Soon it will just be hours separating Paul and Stuart from the start of the Virgin London Marathon 2012. Before he goes off to his pasta party Paul gives us the final rundown of his training as he looks forward to Sunday –   Read his race plans here

Junk Archive will be there to support the boys on their epic feat, so expect some pictures and video next week.

Paul would appreciate any further final boost to his sponsorship total, so make sure you go to his Sponsorship Page and give him your support –  http://www.justgiving.com/Paul-Cooper10