Back To The Sixties 3

Over the last couple of issues, I've looked back to my memories of the 1960's and, in particular, the 'Beatle-related' events, so I thought it might now be a good idea to develop those memories and reminiscences to include other areas of the music scene that I also enjoyed whilst living in 'Swinging London' during that exciting period.

The 60's London club scene is now, of course, legendary. It was 'the place' to be seen and heard for the hundreds of groups and performers up and down the length and breadth of the land. To 'make it big in London' was the ambition of them all. I saw many 'up and coming' bands and singers. One of my favourite bands was Georgie Fame and the Blue Flames and his Flamingo gigs were always packed to the brim - there was also a complete absence of alcohol at the music clubs then, the staple diet being Pepsi Cola & crisps! Not that this bothered we music freaks - we were intoxicated with the 'sounds of the Sixties!'

Folk music was also gathering a healthy following at the same time. The unique style of Bob Dylan became a major influence for the folk performers scattered around the music venues of Soho. I saw the likes of Al Stewart and Long John Baldry at the weekly folk nights at the Marquee Club.

Which brings me on to my first sighting of Joe Cocker. In 1968, I had heard a track on the radio called 'Marjorine' and, having seen in my programme of forthcoming events at the Marquee the name of the singer, Joe Cocker, I went along eagerly to the club in Wardour Street to sample more of the same. The supporting group on that particular Thursday evening gig were the then unknown band called 'YES' who, of course, later went on to greater things. After they'd left the stage, there was a short interval during which time the sound of 'With A Little Help From My Friends' was played over the club's sound system. On first hearing, I was convinced that I was listening to a black American soul singer and vowed to get a copy of this sensational version the very next day. Of course, it wasn't long into Joe's set that I realised that the singer was none other than the guy up front - it was the moment I became a Joe Cocker devotee.

The Greaseband complemented Joe's voice perfectly with their tight, driving sound powering him along to even greater vocal heights. The weekly Marquee sessions soon became a fixture in my social diary and I had a couple of letters published in the autumn editions of the Melody Maker pleading with the British public to "recognise the best white soul singer in this country." By November my prayers had been answered as 'With A Little Help...' arrived at the number 1 slot.

A few years later, I was fortunate to meet up with Joe at the ATV Studios in Elstree where I was working. He was appearing on the Tom Jones Show and having shown him my MM cuttings, was delighted to have him sign my Joe Cocker LP with the message "Thanks for trying". Having followed his fluctuating fortunes over the next couple of decades, I was delighted to meet up with him again, this time in 1992 at the Carlton TV studios in Nottingham. Ironically, he was appearing once again, with Tom Jones. By this time I had discovered that I also shared the same birthday as Joe, not only the same day but also the same year! 20th May 1944. Again an autograph was sought and this time his signature, on the flyleaf of his autobiography, was followed by the words 'Birthday Brother'. Yet another coincidence was revealed when he signed with his left hand - the same hand that I write with. His manager, standing alongside at the time, remarked "Now this is getting weird!"

So now it's over 30 years since I first experienced the 'sight and sound' of 'our Joe' at the Marquee Club and I am, therefore, delighted as the rest of his fans to know that his amazing voice is still intact as he continues into the 21st century with a constitution as strong as Sheffield Steel - Rock on Joe!

In 1967, I was taken on as a road manager for a soul band called 'The Dynamo Set' who had regular bookings on the London club circuit. As I was also working full-time in an office job by day, I soon began to learn the true meaning of 'burning a candle at both ends'. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the whole buzz of touring around the various clubs such as The Roaring Twenties in Carnaby Street; Samantha's in Margaret Street; Cue Club in Paddington: Café des Artistes in the Fulham Road and the heavyweight boxer Billy Walker's club in Forest Gate called, appropriately, The Upper Cut.

I had my own particular favourites on the circuit - Samantha's, just off Oxford Street, was decorated like something out of an Austin Powers movie with the shell of a gold E-type Jaguar, which held the disco equipment, being the centre piece. Late one evening in the Ram Jam Club in Brixton, I took a phone call from the manager of The Speakeasy Club asking our band to do a favour and perform a set later on that same night. Now The Speakeasy was very much the 'in' club at that time, so the opportunity was grabbed with both hands. And so it was that the boys in our band later found themselves entertaining the stars of the 60's pop scene. The club was full of familiar pop faces, a couple of Walker Brothers here, a Stone over there plus their various managers, publicists, agents etc. Gazing around the scene, I was intrigued to see the likes of Dusty Springfield and Jeff Beck dancing along to the sounds of 'our little soul band'. I also remember the drinks being incredibly expensive although, as the driver of the groups van, I sensibly stuck to Coca Cola - and even that was 5 shillings a time!

I finished my stint as a 'roadie' at the end of 1967 when the band went on a two week booking to The Piper Club in Rome. Unfortunately, I was unable to take time off from my full time job. When 'the boys' returned to England, they received a somewhat hostile reception from their manager when he discovered that, without my guiding hands on the finances, they had each spent all the money on new suits and presents for Italian girlfriends! The manager was not amused as he had been expecting his share of the proceeds - the Dynamo Set and manager duly split on less than amicable terms.

Anyway… that's just a few memories from my London club scene days.

George Douglas