For years I’ve been intending to jot down a few reminiscences about growing up in the 1950s and 1960s, mainly to prove to my grandkids that us oldies had pretty interesting lives back in ancient times (though I was a bit miffed when my grandson asked me what it was like in the trenches during the Great War). This topic has prompted me to get my finger out and make a start. I hope it’s of some interest.
When I first stepped onto a stage early in 1962, I little realised that I was becoming a (very small and insignificant) part of pop music history – Merseybeat. Although the exact date and venue of this momentous occasion are long forgotten, I can still remember how nervous I and the rest of the lads were. It was a real brown trousers job. I can also remember the thrill and excitement we felt at the first ripple of applause, though with hindsight it was probably generated more by sympathy than musical appreciation – we weren’t very good. To be honest, we were bloody awful! But we persevered, practiced a lot, got better, practiced some more and eventually became ... quite good. To give a flavour of the times and, perhaps, an idea of what Merseybeat was all about, this is a short account of how our group developed. Please note that in those days we played in ‘groups’ and not ‘bands’. Bands were lots of old guys who played Glen Miller stuff or who marched up and down blowing into all sorts of strange looking brass instruments producing music for advertising brown bread.
Back in early 1960’s Wallasey, we kids who couldn't afford a teddy boy's drapes (or weren't tough enough) but were still looking for excitement, danger and thrills, used to play Subbuteo Table Football. I played in Division Two of the Wallasey Subbuteo Table Football League as Tottenham Hotspur. It is rumoured that it was my team selection that influenced the real team and led to them doing 'the double' in 1961. But that's another story. We used to play a week's fixtures on one night at one of our houses. Sometime in late 1961 we played on Leeds United's ground in Wallasey Village, and after the matches I discovered that Elland Road possessed a guitar. Much fascinating, tuneless playing ensued as all the teams took it in turn to pretend they were Hank Marvin (famous, well dressed, bespectacled lead guitarist with the Shadows). I walked home with Manchester United and Newcastle United that night and we talked about how great it would be to play in a group. We had all seen skiffle groups at the various youth clubs we went to and had been underwhelmed by the washboards and tea chest basses, but recently some of them had been bringing in drums and electric guitars and started playing rock ‘n’ roll which was much more exciting. So, before finishing the traditional fish and chips and shared Woodbine it was decided: we were going to form a group and become rich and famous.
Like so many Grand Plans, this one could have started and ended there and then. However, Bobby (Newcastle United) got talking to his mate in work the following day, and it turned out that this boy genius not only owned a guitar but could also play a bit. 'Bit' turned out to be the operative word. When we eventually started playing together he assured us that he played everything in the key of E. It turned out that he was, in fact playing in E sharp, which explained why our first attempts sounded so bad. Still, just a minor hiccup on the rocky road to fame and fortune. At a hastily convened audition we who new nothing were dazzled by his playing of Duane Eddy's 'Peter Gunn.' and the Shadows’ 'Shadoogie'. Johnny (for that was the virtuoso's name) was promptly offered the job of lead guitarist in a group with no name and no other instruments. He equally promptly accepted. It must have been our personalities.
We now had to decide who was going to be what. Bobby had always fancied being a drummer, so drummer he became. Billy (Manchester United) said that he'd play bass guitar I think he felt that four strings would be easier to play than six. That left me as rhythm guitarist, a sort of trainee Bruce Welch (famous, well dressed, un bespectacled rhythm guitarist with the Shadows). Now for some instruments.
Thanks to the wonders of H.P. (Hire Purchase small deposit and so much a week for fifty years), understanding parents and Strother's Music Store in Wallasey Road, we were soon the proud possessors of drums, guitars, amplifiers and microphones. Oh yes ... and a copy of Bert Weedon's 'Play in a Day'.
We even had somewhere to practice. Billy's parents agreed to let us use a small bedroom at the top of their house, little realising how many visits from irate neighbours and bored policemen this act of generosity was to bring them. But that's another story. We were on our way.
Learning to play the guitar turned out to be easier than I thought, apart from the bleeding fingertips. As the rhythm guitarist I soon discovered that most of our favourite songs by people like Little Richard, Chuck Berry, Carl Perkins and Buddy Holly, could be played using only three chords, and good old Bertie Weedon’s book showed me how to play them. What a doddle. It did take me a while to realise that it wasn’t acceptable to have long pauses inbetween chord changes and that I was supposed to bash all the strings at the same time rather than play them individually, but I eventually sussed it out.
Billy listened to lots of records with the treble turned down and began to play superb (one note) bass riffs. Then he added another note and yet another and soon we were rocking.
Johnny was well ahead of the rest of us as he could play a couple of instrumentals. His difficulty, apart from the E sharp fixation already mentioned, was that he didn’t see the need for a lead guitarist to learn chords. Even when it was pointed out to him that we wouldn’t be playing instrumentals all the time, I think his idea was that he would just stand around looking handsome waiting for the mandatory lead break, play it and then go back to being handsomely inactive. We soon put him right and he grudgingly learnt a few chords.
Bobby the drummer was having more of a problem. At first he sounded like a reject from the Boy's Brigade Band 'Good Golly Miss Molly' to a slow march – but he improved quickly, especially once he was able to add to his initially meagre drum kit.
By now, music had taken over our lives. When not practising, either at home or with the group, we were out at the clubs and ballrooms around Wallasey and Birkenhead watching other groups, ones who were actually paid for doing what was so enjoyable. We also pinched their songs. It was during this time (1962-1963) that I saw the Beatles many times, mainly at the New Brighton Tower Ballroom and the Majestic Ballroom, Birkenhead. This was not from choice, just that they happened to be on the same bill as our favourite groups, the Undertakers, the Big Three and Rory and the Hurricanes. To be honest they didn’t stand out as being any better than the rest, and I can recall some occasions when their performances were met with complete indifference, particularly when they threw some of their own songs in.
To go off at a tangent - to talk about there being a 'Mersey Sound' is a load of rubbish. How can you compare the sound of the Beatles, the Searchers, Gerry and the Pacemakers, the Undertakers and Billy J. Kramer? You can't. O.K., so most of the groups played more or less the same songs, but they played them differently. What happened, at least with us, was that we would hear a group playing a song that we liked and decide to add it to our repertoire. Most records, even the more obscure American rhythm and blues ones, could be obtained, but we couldn't afford to buy them we had our equipment to pay for. So we'd copy from other groups. Whoever was going to sing it would memorise the tune; I would try to work out the chords my opposite number was playing; Johnny would work out an approximation of the lead break and we'd all write down the lyrics as best we could. Later on, we'd put it all together. Probably the melody would be slightly different to accommodate the limitations of my chord playing, some words would be grunted because we were not sure what they should be, and the whole thing would be played against whatever beat our drummer thought was appropriate or was capable of playing. Result: recognisably the same song, but different.
Back to the exciting stuff. At first we concentrated on instrumentals, mainly by the Shadows and Johnny and the Hurricanes. Nearly everything was in the key of E (Johnny had by now revised his eccentric approach to playing). A tape of the three guitarists practicing together at this time – Bobby was on holiday - is still in existence, and pretty horrible it is too. But we perservered and slowly began to get some reasonable sounds out of our instruments.
We realised, of course, that at some stage we would have to do proper songs with singing. One small problem did present itself: who was going to do the vocals?
At first, as the only one who had sung in the school choir soloist in 'The Messiah' no less I was the one designated as the potential Cliff Richard (famous, well dressed vocalist with the Shadows). Unfortunately, Mother Nature had played a cruel trick on me. When breaking my voice she had also somehow managed to swap it for a neutered tom cat's, and by the sound of it he was still feeling the effects of the operation when the exchange took place. For the rest of my career I was reduced to singing backing vocals and then with the volume turned down. Still, with the resilience and procrastination of youth, we had decided to meet that problem when we had to. Unfortunately that time had now arrived.
With money no object, a couple of postcards were placed in shop windows: "Rock and Roll Group Seeks Experienced Singer. Ring....". Over the next few months we tried two. Pete, who appeared with us on our very first engagement, certainly acted the part. Looking like a young, blonde Elvis Presley his voice was not brilliant but he oozed confidence. Until that first ill fated night. Pete’s confidence disappeared, his voice cracked, he forgot his words and, worst of all, he tried to hide behind a stage curtain. I soon sorted that out. It was my curtain. I'd found it first and I was the one who was going to hide behind it. The night was a complete catastrophe. Pete didn't last long.
Buster, our next front man was completely different. Short and squat with a face that would curdle milk, he had a superb rock and roll voice. Unfortunately, he wanted to sing in strange keys, like F and B flat, which meant that we had to relearn most of our songs. Even more unfortunate was that on stage he became nervous and developed a tendency to change keys in the middle of a song without telling anybody. Some of us would try to follow him while the others stopped where they were. It's quite possible that we invented Punk Rock in 1962. Goodbye Buster.
Then the most amazing thing happened. Billy the bass discovered he could sing. And play his guitar at the same time. Anything Billy could do, Johnny could do better. Actually, he couldn't, but he wasn't too bad. We had cracked it (and it was one less to share out the fees between). By now, settled as a quartet, we felt we were ready to unleash ourselves onto an unsuspecting world. At first this was one long round of unpaid auditions, mainly round Wallasey and Birkenhead, but gradually the real bookings started coming in, equipment was upgraded, stage clothes bought and we were offered gigs instead of having to beg for them.
We never became one of the big groups, but did OK, playing at all the top local venues (and a lot of scruffy dives!). My diary for 1964 shows that we played at least three times a week. On one momentous occasion, we had three in one night – New Brighton Tower, Orrell Park Ballroom and the Palace Ballroom in Southport. Big time or what! All this time we remained semi-pro, and I eventually finished playing in 1965 to start studying for professional qualifications. Biggest mistake of my life to end probably the happiest time of my life! The group actually continued through to the 1980s under various names and changing personnel.
Sorry for my late reply I have been having internet troubles.
Thank you so much for taking the time to write this, and I’m pleased that this topic has given you the chance to write down your memories. I found it all very interesting and loved reading about your experiences. Thank you again for replying.
Thanks for the pic, Peter – as a matter of interest where did you get it? I’ve got a copy somewhere but I’ve not looked at it for years. Brought back a lot of memories.
The date it was taken was 17 July 1964 at, as you rightly say, New Brighton Tower Ballroom. By then Bobby Dennis had left and we had been lucky to replace him with Bob Evans, who was one of the finest drummers around. Evvo had been playing for years (he always reckoned his Bob Evans and the Five Shillings was the first true beat group on Merseyside) and was founder member of the Undertakers. The contacts he’d built up over the years certainly helped us with our bookings!!
my daughter got the pic from a relative of Billy Burrows. My mate Ted Hayes RIP , who was a bass player and with whom I played with (I'm a drummer ) for many a year, used to be a roady for Bob Evans and the Five Shillings till they lost their bass player and Ted stepped in with 2 days notice,learnt a couple of 3 chord tricks and the rest is history as they say.
my daughter got the pic from a relative of Billy Burrows. My mate Ted Hayes RIP , who was a bass player and with whom I played with (I'm a drummer ) for many a year, used to be a roady for Bob Evans and the Five Shillings till they lost their bass player and Ted stepped in with 2 days notice,learnt a couple of 3 chord tricks and the rest is history as they say.
So who besides Bob and Billy is in the pic ?.
I remember Ted Hayes from the "Blue Diamonds" when they played at The Tavern with Johny Hawkes the singer. I still see Johny these days.
I bought 'Love me do'.I knew that the Beatles had a unique sound and would be famous, but I always preferred and still do, 50's/early 60's Rock N Roll-Buddy Holly, Jerry Lee Lewis, Elvis, Billy Fury etc. My office friends went to Cavern in lunch hour so I had heard of them.I was born in 1946-was not aware of class when young but realised alot of people were either worse off or better financially and some people were 'posh' and others were called 'common' such as those girls going out with rollers in hair.Why now can young people go out in dressing gown and slippers whilst old ones would get locked-up?
Same record shops and radio stations for me too. I remember Melody Milk Bar in centre of Liscard opposite the Cinema and ballroom(Later ABC Cinema) but I only went a couple of times because my Dad thought Teddy Boys hung around there. My main haunt was the outdoor Fair at New Brighton roller skating to 'Heartbreak Hotel'etc and the afternoon sessions at the Kraal Club. Told my Dad I was in Church. He would have had a fit if he knew I was enjoying myself listening to Karl Denver' Wimoweh'and having a great time. Also went on afternoon dancing cruises on Ferryboat until next door neighbours told him.My parents told me in my forties they had been too strict but it was too late by then. I am now a re-cycled teenager.
can young people go out in dressing gown and slippers whilst old ones would get locked-up?
