THE STORY SO FAR
THE HISTORY
Back in those days it was easy. You and your mates would form a Band, buy a Van and start to tour. everybody did it; Internet my arse!.................it didn't exist pal.
The 8 Track player and a million transit vans full of part time musicians on the the A5, M6 and M56 going and coming back from gigs. We used to meet up after playing for pennies, in the Hole in the Wall in Chester or in Service stations, and spend most of the money we earned on fish, chips and vindaloos.
Back then i was playing guitar and electric violin in a North Wales 'Progressive' Rock band called Hybrid. Quite frankly they were woeful. We played the Raven in Flint, Valentinos in Chester, the Moonstone in Liverpool, the Sportsman and the Bulls Head on the Wirral, and loads more. We even got as far as Stoke ! It ended badly, in a Working Mens Club in Burnley, which was lucky for me, because i met Ray and Mark who were looking for a songwriter for their band (well Rays band really)
We formed the Mod band RUN229, which was at the time the love of my life, but had too many crazed personalities in it to go the distance. There was always a love hate relationship for control of the band between me and Ray our extraodinary and manic depressive drummer. Looking back now, i can see that he was right most of the time. The rest of the Band.............well there was Mark ( i love myself, where's the mirror) Allen. Nick (Skin Up) Carr and of course the Joe 90 And Mr Anti Image himself Steve Eton. Where are you all now guys? I suspect at least two are dead. We used to dress up as Firemen on stage. We made one single: SOHO, which is now a very rare collectors item.
Inevitable the band split, and i spent the next three years of my life touring Europe. Not very romantic really, mainly strip joints and Army camps 'They are naked and they do dance,' still haunts my dreams. (NB Strip Clubs. I have no dreams about naked soldiers: not yet anyway.)
Hooraaa.................................... Ray Bibbyy comes home to the UK after backing up Belly Dancers in a gypsy Camp in.............................Turkey?..................Yep Turkey. OK so the man has problems................but now he was living with me, so we formed THE WORD.................alas too off the Wall to survive for long when let out onto the road but great fun while it lasted.
I always believed that my songwriting was disposable pop trash, and rightly so. I hate those assholes who believe that music is anything more than trivia. Ok so artistic trivia.......i hate perfection, but prefer to capture the mood of the moment for ever. We can all relive moments of our lives through music; even shit music we didn't like can still bring back an echo in our heads and make us realise just how old and stuck up our own arses we have become.
I escaped from the band, and was kidnapped by aliens and transported to the South of Italy where i now live. i arrived with my keyboards, two guitars and a bass and not much else...................to be continued
Oh yes...........................almost forgot. I wrote a book about those days on the road. It's called 'the Dogs Bollocks' and it's available to read on this site or you can download it too if you want.
to be continued