Birth of a Band 1

If you scoot back over the news section of the Mechkov website, you will see that (apart from news of a cracking new soundscape album) there is a flurry of news regarding my new band, Custard Cream. From this flurry, it is also (I hope) clear that the band has managed to cement itself into the local gigging scene with some speed following its first gig on May 11th this year (2013).

I thought I ought to get down how this came about…

There is a rather spiffing little website here in the UK called joinmyband, through which musicians and singers can find other musicians and singers, and which I had been trying (unsuccessfully) to get people to hop in on my projects.

Ah! We are a funny bunch, we musos. We seem, when we are together, to have so much in common when together on a stage, but when a person has his own plans and ideas, getting others involved is a tough ask. They are all far too busy trying to find others to join them on their projects.

So, having had limited success on this, my wife suggested I join in on someone else’s project – and maybe earn some money while I was at it.

Unfortunately, the ad I followed up on the site is now long gone, but it went something along the lines of: “Custard Cream is moving to Berkshire and needs a drummer, bassist and a singer to join lifelong pals Nige and George on guitars for a blues and rock band. We have a lot of experience and our own Sharon Osborne.”

Can you tell what the clincher might have been for me here? Yes, of course, as with any musician, the thought of having someone actually taking on the responsibility of marketing, managing and promotion was too much to ignore – let alone hope for. I answered the ad immediately and pretty soon Nige and I were in correspondence. I’m guessing that he was attracted to me as an option because I could both play bass and sing AND I had my own website with original music. He wasn’t interested in this, but it does show I have some capability without having to go through the pain of a crap rehearsal.

The email chain goes back to September 26^th 2012 and it appears that Nige had said that the band would be able to meet during weekdays – this really did sell the project to me. Nige was moving to the area from Cornwall, so I figured it would be best to leave him and his family to the horrors that are moving house before pushing for anything more.

By mid-October, Nige informed me that he thought he had found a drummer – and, what is more, one that could rehearse on a weekday (one day per week), but that, following the move, he would have to spend a few weeks doing the house up before ‘Sharon’ would even let him think of going out to rehearse. Fair enough, I thought.

By October 19^th, we had shared set lists and George had come through with a sort of hybrid list based on all of our contributions of song titles and Nige was saying we would be in rehearsal by December at the latest and gigging in January. ‘Bloody perfect’ was my thought on the issue.

Come the end of November, I was champing at the bit to get into rehearsal, but Nige still hadn’t finished his ‘house work’ and so we agreed to postpone until after Christmas and meet up in the New Year. It also turned out that George (the other guitarist) would NOT be able to rehearse on weekdays… hmm…

In the meantime, the drummer, Neil, suggested that we meet up for a drink. Yes, all of this planning and we hadn’t even met – yet, for some reason, I felt sure this was going to be a good project…

Why? I have absolutely no idea. Normally when I have a gut feeling for something, I end up being so wrong, I have to pretend I was never really interested in the first place, but of course at the time it all seems to make perfect sense. I really did not see this as being something that was dragging on.

Open Mic Nights: The sublime to the sublime

I left you last time with the thought that an open mic night needs some element of tradition, a knowledge or certainty among both the muso and punter communities that an event will take place each week – no exceptions.

East End Bob, the landlord at The Plough, has been a bit moany the last couple of weeks. I don’t really think it is behaviour reserved specifically for me, but he has had something of a point. Not many musicians turned up after the first couple of (unexpectedly good) weeks, which had Bob a bit perturbed, it has to be said.

He’s a morose sort of bloke at the best of times, which often leads to a sort of laconic delivery. Add to that his hard east-end accent and a Churchillian speech defect, it is sometimes hard to decipher anything.

“I got a good crowd in Friday and Saturday… Well, not that good…” might easily have been: “I got a good cow in before I sat… Well, Noah Goo…” which can leave the listener a bit bemused. Fortunately (or unfortunately) his favourite phrases of ‘diabolical’ and ‘where are the punters?’ never seem to disintegrate into unintelligibility.

So it was that, after an evening (August 7th) that can quite legitimately be described as ‘quite good’ having had a good half dozen turns show up and perform to a good standard, East End Bob was forced to admit a pleasant evening, but (on the physical evidence of very few paying customers that were not musicians or singers) had to ask ‘where are the punters?’

Now, having performed – to some degree – all of my responsibilities, I was sorely tempted to say: ‘I’ve done my job, Sir Bob, now it’s time for you to do yours.’ But that, of course, would have been churlish. Instead, I pointed out that, after just five weeks, we had begun to establish our own crowd – nothing to do with either my regulars from Marlow, nor East End Bob’s regulars. A new crowd – The Plough’s Tuesday Night crowd.

Keep these people happy, I explained, and they will bring more people: more musos and more muso friends. ‘But why don’t my regulars stay?’ he asked (or was that ‘Brian Moore Wreckless Day’?). And the answer is (to the real question, not my silly corruption): ‘because they are not interested in small-time musos, their music, their egos and their friends.’

Forget them. For one night a week, I said, surely you can live without having the same old faces and the same old (let’s face it) ill-aimed and sorely lacking attempts at humour and socio-political commentary. For one night a week, let’s build a new, different crowd, all of whom are interested in small-time musos, their music, their egos and their friends.

And so it is coming to pass. After that initial 8 o’clock angst worrying that no-one will come, by 9 o’clock there is now a hardcore nucleus that will build into something greater than the sum of its parts.

Tuesday nights now sees good old Andrew Williams, along with Sassy Lozza and now Coolhand Sean seems to be something of a regular, as well as his mate, Falsetto Si, his singer, Carly Allie – and they have in turn now brought along a member of the Russian Mafia, Ilya (who does a mean Johnny Cash) and the delightful Whispering Heather. Add these to Diva Emma and Shakey Amy and you have the seed of a great, ongoing evening.

Once their friends start coming along, too, The Plough’s open mic night will be the talk of the town. It’s still going to take some time, but we’re getting there.

East End Bob spent most of the time I was packing up at the last evening saying: “But it’s hard work.” It certainly is, Sir Bob… That is unless you were actually saying: “But it’s artwork.”