'At The Hop', A Step In The Right Direction', 'Toe The Line' etc etc

Saturday 21st January at midday, in seat 9F on Eurowings flight 4U9467 at Heathrow Airport awaiting take off 

Well. Here we are again. Indeed here we go again, this time to Dortmund via Dusseldorf Airport for a Ruts DC show at The Ruhrpott Ska Explosion Festival. No, I'm not too sure what we're doing at a ska festival either.
It seems strange to think of flying to gigs as 'routine' - which is why I don't think of it as that or anything like it. There's still something exciting about it, even though I've done it a fair few times over the years. I really must grow up one day - then again I've got this far, so maybe not? 
I broke a toe this week. Silly me. Then again I didn't do it deliberately... I guess that at this point there should be some crazy rock 'n' roll story attached to the incident ('there I was in a New York hotel having a drink with Keith Richards and Ronnie Wood when Iggy Pop suggested that I swung from one of the chandeliers. I wouldn't have normally but gripped by the spirit of Keith Moon I though that I'd give it a go...') but no - I somehow caught my foot on a table leg in the front room. Gawd knows how - serves me right for not wearing shoes or indeed (gulp!) slippers eh? It hurt a lot when I did it on Thursday but it hurts a bit less now - then again I have taken some industrial strength Ibuprofen, as advised by the chemist that I hopped in to see not long after the frankly ridiculous table leg / toe equation took place. They also advised me to tape it to an adjacent toe (it's the one next to my little toe on my left foot) and to 'take it easy for a week or so'... as I limped my way towards gate A24 30-odd minutes ago I reflected upon how much we all take 'normality', or whatever 'normality' is in our world, for granted. Without wishing to tempt fate I, like most of us, am lucky enough to be reasonably healthy most of the time - and yet we all moan about the most trivial of things don't we? Well, we do don't we? 
I suppose that last night was a chance to 'take it easy' - so I of course went out to see a Led Zeppelin tribute band at Tropic At Ruislip. Led Zeppelin are revered both as a band and as individuals for a reason, and Hats Off To Led Zeppelin made a very good job of what is some notoriously difficult material - their two set show saw a good selection from the catalogue (finishing the main set with 'Wearing And Tearing' really was a moment for the diehards!) with the obvious classics getting the biggest audience reaction. A good night all round - I'd not been to the club for a while and it was splendid to see it continuing to thrive in these difficult times. 

Right - it looks as though it's take off time so I'm going to try to have a snooze. It's bloomin' tiring having a broken toe. Maybe I should have had a quiet night after all?

Sunday 22nd January at 2.25 pm, in seat 12D on Eurowings flight EW1466 at Dusseldorf Airport awaiting take off

Strange. Very Strange. Well, I think that it is. 
While I'm away doing these crazy jaunts around the rock 'n' roll world I usually take an iPod with me, along with a little battery operated device to play it through; this means that if I get my own room I can use it to play whatever peculiar song has somehow found it's way into my warped mind while I'm attempting to get some sleep. 

('But Leigh' - I hear you cry - 'what of the women? The drink? The drugs? The wilful destruction of hotel rooms? Whatever happened to the spirit of Keith Moon from earlier?' Good question...) 

Anyway last night - oh ok then, very early this morning - I thought I'd play a bit of, wait for it, Eddie and The Hot Rods. Oh it won't work. Flat battery. Very annoying, and strange since I charged it up yesterday. And for some reason it won't charge up now. Bugger!
That's the strange bit, but not the very strange bit. That's coming in a minute.
So I played a song or two on my phone before eventually getting tired enough to get to sleep. Good. After a while I woke up and, since it was dark I attempted to switch my phone on to check the time, like we all do these days. Well, we do don't we? It didn't work. Turn the bedside light on. Try again. Nothing.The battery was as dead as the proverbial dodo. But it was over 70% charged when I went to sleep. Weird. I was of course immediately wide awake, gripped with terror with the hideous realisation that there was obviously an enormous magnetic field (or something) in the hotel that was causing every battery in the building to go flat and so no one's alarm would go off and we'd all be there forever. Or something. A very strange moment- well that's how it felt at the time.

We'd arrived a Dortmund Airport after a pleasingly uneventful flight, and were met by Tony who drove us (at quite a speed, it must be said) to the venue where preparations for the evening were well under way. After checking the drums and amps we were all set to go to our hotel, but with our stage time less than two hours away we decided to stay at the venue. This proved to be a good move as it gave us chance to get something to eat and drink as well as to meet the other bands on the bill. 
Showtime was 7.15 - with things already running late (an unusual situation at events such as this) there was an unwelcome urgency in setting up which caused the odd fraught moment but we go there in the end.
Remember my broken toe? I'd almost forgotten about it too until a few songs into our show when I bought my foot down onto the stage just a little bit too hard - In a split second a heavy metal bolt of pain shot up my leg and out through the top of my head. I remembered it then. Absolute agony. The resulting, er, jazz chord hadn't appeared in 'Vox Teardrop' before, and I for one hope that it doesn't appear again - although a similar one turned up later in 'Psychic Attack' for the same reason. Argh! If you see these performances on YouTube then please cut me a little slack... having collectively wondered what on Earth we were doing at a ska festival we all reached the conclusion 'doing rather well' by the end of our set. A great gig, and it must be said a great evening all round. All the bands played well although I must give a special mention to The Valkarians who were simply brilliant. By the time headliner Roy Ellis hit the stage we were all flagging a bit (well I certainly was!) so we headed for our hotel during his set, but we all agreed that it had been a splendid event to be part of. 
With no more Ruts DC shows for a month or so it's now time to prepare for the Stranglers tour in March which should, to coin a phrase, be something to write home about - which if you think about it, is exactly what I'm likely to do here...    

Tuesday 24th January at 4.27 pm, back in Blighty and at home 

So there you have it - some great gigs and some (hopefully) interesting times. I thought that it might be fun to structure successive posts in a similar manner. There has been minimal editing - they really were written in the places and at the listed times, and this is reflected in the writing, which is sometimes scrappy but often oddly revealing. All good stuff!

'...like the moon, and the stars, and the sun...'

Ruts D.C.'s 'Psychic Attack Tour 2015' ended last week with five 'Beautiful Nights' shows in Southend, Reading, Doncaster, Wolverhampton and Blackpool with The Levellers and Dreadzone. And what shows they were my friends, what shows they were. I don't think there was a moment of them that I didn't enjoy. No, really. Ok that might be a bit fanciful, but you know what I mean I think. As is customary I made notes as I went along - these have been added to the seemingly interminable scribble from the other 35 shows, and one day I'll get around to writing them up here. Probably.

Now it's back to basics - gigging with Big Al Reed and The Blistering Buicks and The Upper Cut, working in Balcony Shirts, trying to get on course for Christmas - except that it's not. I've got to do all of those things and more, but Ruts D.C. have a new album to make. We've been working on some of the songs today, and start recording next week. Good.

In the meantime 35 years ago today John Lennon was shot dead in New York. I reflected on the 30th anniversary in these hallowed pages 5 years ago (fairly obviously!) which you can read here if you like, and you can click here for a clip of the great man performing 'Instant Karma!' on 'Top Of The Pops'. Go Johnny go... we all shine on...

One day it will please us to remember even this

What follows was written last night on the train home from the gig. I've thought about rewriting it as it's a bit disjointed (to say the least! Well the bar had been open...) but have decided to include it here with very little editing. It's nothing if not honest...

Now you know how I feel about this guitar playing lark don't you? Yeah, of course you do. But just in case you don't...

I have a lot of what I sometimes call 'are you sure Leigh?' moments. As in 'are you sure that you can do this Leigh?' moments. I've found that a lot of musicians are more insecure about their ability than they might first appear, or might look when they're up on a stage. I know that there are much better guitarists than me that never get out of their bedroom or a rehearsal room let alone make it to a stage or do some of the things that I find myself doing. And that's not false modesty or fishing for compliments, it's just true. I don't always feel very lucky, but I know that I'm always lucky to be able to play the guitar. 
So why am I telling you this. Well I'm not sure really. Maybe I'm telling myself it? Again.

I was talking to the lead singer of The Duel Tara Rez at The 100 Club when The U.K. Subs and T.V. Smith played there back in May. She mentioned that The Duel were due to be supporting Sylvain Sylvain of The New York Dolls at said venue on July 25th, and I resolved to attend the gig; among the other subjects that we then touched upon were the band's excellent version of 'Babylon's Burning' as played at the Fiddler's Elbow show also in May when Back To Zero also appeared - at which point, a plan of sorts loosely formed...

I arrived at The 100 Club just after quarter past six. Sylvain Sylvain and the band were soundchecking with a wonderfully raucous instrumental - as I said hello to members of The Duel and The Bears (the first band on) they played a few snippets and a few full songs, all sounding great. 'We'd better get off and give the other guys a chance' said the man himself (a lot of headline acts don't think like that!) as he took his guitar off, left the stage and walked over in my general direction. 
Now as I said earlier, you know how I feel about this guitar playing lark don't you? And you also know that I think that the New York Dolls are one of the greatest rock 'n' roll bands of all time. (Well if you didn't know that then I'm sure that you could have worked it out!) But you also know that I'm basically a very shy person. I try not to be, but I am. So I said to myself, go and say hello to him. Go on, you might not get a chance later on. Look, he's nodded at you, he seems to be alright. Say hello. What's the worst thing that could happen?

'Hello, my name's Leigh. That sounded great.'

He smiled and shook my hand.

Hey Leigh man, thank you.'

I said how good I thought that the guitar sounded - he told me that he's got an old pedal, bought in 1968, a combined fuzz / wha, quite unusual...
And there I was, little old me, talking to Sylvain Sylvain, the bloke out of The New York Dolls, about guitar effect pedals and how he gets his sound. Who'd have thought it eh? Little old me. I played along with his records all those years ago. I still do sometimes.
By now people wanted him - I said that I wouldn't keep him as he was busy but that it had been great to meet him.

'Great to meet you too Leigh' he said, remembering my name as he shook my hand. 

Back to work. Time is running out and there are two bands to soundcheck. The Duel are providing drums and a bass amp, The Bears have two guitarists and I thought I was using Lionel's Marshall set-up but Neil's got a Fender Blues Deluxe combo for me to use. I've got one of those myself. Good. The Duel play half a song without me and then we try 'Babylon's Burning', it all goes right until it all goes wrong - don't worry, it'll be alright on the night. But hang on - this is the night...

The Bears start their set at a quarter to eight. The club is already quite full, and they play a good set which goes down well with all concerned. No pressure then. I set up my guitar as quickly as I can; Tara tells me how nervous she's feeling and I say that it'll be great, probably sounding a bit glib as I realise that I'm feeling quite nervous too.

Andy, Pumpy and Tara from The Duel
attempt to ignore the poser in their midst. 

'What will you do when the money runs out?' The Duel sound terrific and the crowd loves them. And why not? When Tara says that they've got two songs left I realise that it's nearly my turn. The song ends. It's my turn. How does 'Babylon's Burning' go again?
Pumpy taps his sticks together four times and the intensity (in my head at least) leaps by approximately 1000% - 'and with anxiety'...
It ends. The crowd explodes. Goodnight. Tara smiles at Andy, Andy smiles at me - mission accomplished FAB.
I turn Neil's amp off and unplug my guitar. That felt good. I wonder if it sounded good too?
Over the next few minutes I got my answer. I shake hands with what feels like half of the audience. They loved it. And do you know, I loved it too.

9.35pm and London Town becomes New York City before our very eyes. 'OW!' cries our hero. 'Ow!' replies the audience with typically British restraint. 'Ouch!' says Sylvain in a manner that perhaps could best be described as 'beyond camp'. Hilarious.
What followed was a masterclass in out-and-out rock 'n' roll. With Jerome Alexandre on bass and Gary Powell on drums they played old songs, new songs and somewhere-in-between songs with a swagger and a style that all of us want but few of us will ever have. There were some great stories too, about selling jeans to Janis Joplin and how The New York Dolls got their name - that's really him up there on the stage. And it was really Glen Matlock and Clem Burke playing 'Personality Crisis' with him as an encore too. Wow.

After the show - more hands to shake, a hello to Mr. Burke, a few words with Mr. Matlock and probably some other things as well.

So now I'm on my way home trying to write it all down. How you ever tried to write while you're on a tube train? I doubt that I'll be able to read it in the morning. But that was a night to remember, a night never to forget. I told you that I was lucky didn't I?

Well as I say, it's a bit disjointed here and there - even the title doesn't really make sense in this context... many thanks to Big Andy for the photo - I had to use my Les Paul Junior didn't I? Well if it was good enough for Johnny Thunders then it's good enough for me!

'There are places I remember...'

John Lennon died 30 years ago today, shot by Mark Chapman outside The Dakota Building in New York. He was 40 years old.

It is said that everyone who was old enough can remember the moment that they found out that President John F. Kennedy had been assassinated. Maybe for people of my generation Lennon's death is in a similar category, and I can certainly remember where I was...

It was a very cold morning - maybe our central heating had gone wrong? - and I was reluctantly getting ready to go to work. I'd started at the E.M.I. factory in Ruislip only a few months earlier, and had quickly realised that the world of 'conventional' work was a very real threat to my sanity. I stumbled downstairs and into our kitchen where my mum was sitting having breakfast with the radio on. (No Breakfast Television in those days!) Before I'd even said hello to her she looked at me sadly and said 'something terrible's happened - John Lennon's been shot'. 'What?' was my confused reply, before I made an exclamation along the lines of 'ARRRGGGHHH!'

My right big toe was caught in a mousetrap.

We had a mouse in the house at the time (fairly obviously!) and I was walking around with no shoes or socks on. Well we all do, don't we?

I went to work in a daze. (Actually I often did, but that's another story!) So - Lennon's dead and I feel like I've got a broken toe. Not a good start to the day. When I got there one of the women came up to me and said something along the lines of 'you like music don't you? That John Lennon bloke's been shot hasn't he? Good. Me and my husband hated him, all that peace rubbish and that weird Japanese bird. The World's a better place without him'.
I though for a second or two about how many times I'd had to listen to her bleating on about how she thought that 'Hitler was right about a lot of things' and other such right wing drivel, then gave the rather non-committal reply of 'it's a pity it wasn't you and your husband that been shot, then the World really would have been a better place' before shouting 'I'm going home' indiscriminately across the office. My boss immediately threatened me with the sack, to which I replied 'like I care'. And, at that moment, I didn't.

I walked (hopped?) back along the High Street in a different daze. I heard 'Strawberry Fields Forever' playing in Lightning Records, went in and stood there listening - what a voice, and what a song. As it ended I looked around - there were several more people just standing there, listening. One of them was crying.

I just played it again now - what a voice, and what a song. And what a man, and what a loss. I didn't think the World was a better place without him then, and I don't think it is now. Dr. Winston O'Boogie, fab forever.