The First Night of the MIC Club

First published in 2016 in the NGG fanzine... 

Poster by Syd Matthews

In January 1982 I was still at school half-heartedly studying for A levels, which I would sit in June 1983, with no idea at all what I would do after that. But I was in a band. This was purely by virtue of owning a drum kit. I had only a basic grasp of what I was meant to be doing with it, but it was enough for me to be a member of the Rubberman 12 (pronounced Rubberman Dozen); a trio with my pal John Gawen on bass, plus singer/songwriter/guitarist Mike O’Halloran. 

Mike’s main influences, courtesy of his older brother, were Todd Rundgren, Love, the Velvet Underground, The Jam, Orange Juice, Talking Heads and Joe Jackson. His songs would not have been out of place on the Postcard label; post-punk pop with a funky twang that just fell short of being twee. C-86 before its time, I suppose. The-Beatles-in-Hamburg it was not. John was a big Bunnymen and Bowie fan and I was mad on The Doors, Magazine, Vic Godard, Love, The Fall and Frank Sinatra. However, since that Christmas party, we had each endeavoured to see The Milkshakes and Prisoners as often as possible. 

We had done a few gigs at parties and village halls over the previous year and were looking to start doing proper dates in proper venues. On Sunday 28th February we turned up to watch the Prisoners at the Red Lion in Northfleet. It was one of the rare dates in those days where the Milkshakes were not playing with them as the two bands used to gatecrash each other’s gigs as a readymade double bill. The Prisoners were now no longer a trio, Jamie having joined them a month earlier.

The Strange Tale of How I Came to Meet Spike 'I Prefer Jazz' Heatley

Was it Oscar Wilde who once said; "There is only one thing in life worse than having the internet, and that is not having the internet"? Perhaps I'm getting him mixed up with someone else. But, were it not for the internet the following little tale would never have happened and, naturally, you would not be reading it now.

On April 8th last year, my wife Debbie and I celebrated our wedding anniversary with a glass or two of wine in our favourite Hastings wine bar before heading to a nearby pub to see our friend Wendy DJ to a packed crowd of boozy dancers. Wendy introduced us to her friend Merrill, visiting Hastings for the weekend, who said she would soon be moving to the town. After congratulating her on her choice of location we chatted and, as it is the 21st century, became Facebook pals the next day.

The following Saturday I took the trouble to queue for the first time for Record Store Day. The wonderful Soho Scene series of jazz albums was releasing its 1964 edition and I didn't want to miss out on a copy. Disc secured, I headed home to listen to it. It was up to the same high standard of the others in the series, but one track in particular grabbed me. When I say grabbed me, I meant it entranced me; 'Times Two and a Half' by Bill Le Sage & the New Directions in Jazz Unit.