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Confessions
of a Sixties Bassist - Rick Brown
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| Left to
right: - Rick Brown, Carlo Little, Paul Dean (later Paul
Nicholas) circa 1962 |
Along
with Carlo Little and the legendary pianist Nicky Hopkins, Rick
Brown was an original member of Screaming Lord Sutch's Savages
and Cyril Davies' All Stars. He was also part of the embryonic
Rolling Stones, and made his name in the Brian Auger Trinity and
Steampacket. Rick also played with the Georgie Fame band, to
name but a few. His stage name was Ricky Fenson.
Bill
Wyman is quoted as having copied his unique walking-bass
style. Rick gave up playing with bands in the early 1970s
after deciding to play classical.
Here's his
story...
"I wish I could
tell you completely what it was like back then, but I can't. If you
went back in time to the Sixties, you'd find it naive, innocent and
almost quaint".
The Beginning
"Fascinating how
life sometimes offers you an opportunity; and if you grasp that
opportunity it will change your life forever. I still can't
remember how I met Carlo, but look what happened to me after I did!
And what about a
chance remark at the Oldfield Hotel, Greenford? An outlandish
full-time layabout and part-time window cleaner was dancing to the
live band, when his shockingly long hair fell all over his face. Somebody
said he looked unusual enough to do a stage act, and the phenomenon
known as you-know-who (Sutch) was started. The regular band there
was Dougie Dee and the Strangers. I don't know if Dave ever did a
gig with them, but there was some connection.
Carlo and I had
heard that there was actually someone else in Wembley who played
guitar, so off we went to the Wembley Music Salon where Bernie
(Watson, guitarist) worked, and recruited him. He probably
introduced Nick (Nicky Hopkins, pianist), who conveniently lived
just down the road from Carlo in a small castle. The first Savages
photo was taken in June 1960 at a school in Wembley where we were
'rehearsing'. See I was playing guitar then - we didn't have a bass
player! It was about that time we did our first ever gig with Dave
--- for Bob Potter in Camberley. We didn't have any transport, so
Alf from the Oldfield (a tree surgeon by day - a good feller HA HA)
took us there in his van. We were so dreadful that Bob was furious.
I distinctly remember being on stage, looking into the wings and
seeing him jumping up and down with his fists in the air! (We
eventually did a lot of work for Bob and got on very well with him.)
That seemed to
be the end of that, so without Dave we started rehearsing with a
girl called Sylvie (also from the Oldfield) who had agreed to be our
singer. Well, she was already our groupie, so why not? The only
number she ever got through was 'The Train'. The band decided
that I should get a bass, because Bernie was a much better guitarist
than me. It may have been then that Dave was a minor
name on a small package tour, backed by the house band The
Flerekkers. (I've probably spelt the name wrong. It was run by a
Dutch sax player called Pete Flerekker. And Micky Waller was their
drummer.) There we were, rehearsing away with Sylvie. One day I met
a small-time film extra and con-man called Frank Maher who offered
to be our "manager" and came along to a rehearsal.
Carlo saw through him almost straight away, and left the band pretty
damn quick, as the saying goes...and Sylvie gave it up as well.
However, Bernie,
Nick and I stayed with Frank and the band became the Saxons. We got
a drummer called Johnny Jenks, rehearsed for what seemed like an
eternity, and eventually got some work at the American Bases. Brize
Norton, Mildenhall, etc.
Meanwhile........the
first Savages proper had formed, and the famous tour of Scotland
happened. Carlo, of course, with Ken Payne on bass, Andy Wren on
piano and Roger Mingay on guitar. I used to go round to Carlo's
house late at night and listen to endless stories about that tour.
There was a cosy open fire in the kitchen, and we'd chat away with
Carlo's mum making tea, the three of us smoking far too much.
Another occasional nocturnal visitor was a small Welshman called
Huwie who had an enormous car straight out of a Hollywood
movie. He would sit there saying "Christ, Mabe" while
Carlo's mum was talking about the murderous feud she had going on
with the off-licence next door. I think the boundary fence was about
an inch in the wrong place..... And trouble was brewing
in the Saxons.
One day Frank told me
that Bernie and Nick had voted me out of the band. Naturally all my
dreams crumbled....but fate had other plans. Ken Payne decided to
leave Sutch - so I was back in the Savages again. I got my
orange shirt and white cowboy boots and did my first gig at the Top
Rank ballroom in Reading. There was so much water on the stage after
'Great Balls of Fire' that when it came to the hopping sequence I
slipped and fell flat on my back. What a debut! Never mind... I had
150% commitment! Later on it was Sylvie who first
bleached my hair at her house in Kenton. And much later on, when we
were staying at the Broad Highway Hotel in Doncaster, Bernie and
Nick tried to vote me out of the band again. But Carlo stood up for
me, and I stayed. Actually, Bernie and Nick had a point. I was an
awful musician, and a complete prat as well. There's nothing worse
than working with a useless musician. It must have been agony for
Nick to listen to my playing".
On Screaming
Lord Sutch and The Savages
"Sutch's main
peculiarity, his claim to fame was the length of his hair!!!! Shock,
horror! It was down to his shoulders! He always kept it hidden
under a sort of pork pie hat, and off-stage he'd never show it
to anybody...plenty of people asked.
With one
exception..... in those days, especially in the provinces, the
police thought it was very suspicious to drive a van around in the
middle of the night. So we used to get stopped. And Dave used
to wave his hair at the coppers, to give them something to tell
the lads back at the station.....and make them go away without
asking for his driving licence and insurance......which he
didn't have.
The horse-box looked
suspicious even in the daytime. It was an old black gown van, the
sort of thing tailors could hang fifty suits in. No windows in the
back. There were two front seats just like in a Morris 1000. In the
gloom behind those, a huge bench seat out of an American car. And
all the gear went behind that, expertly packed by Carlo, who had
been a van-driver's assistant at Kodaks, and therefore knew how to
load vans and read maps. There was no heater, and we travelled all
through one freezing winter in that van, huddled in
blankets wearing three pairs of socks, boots off and feet in
polythene bags for insulation. And to make matters worse, Sutch
used to stick his head out of the window to stop nodding off behind
the wheel! And sometimes we'd run out of petrol in the middle of the
night.......
Petrol was not
the only thing that ran out. Dave's luck ran out in the end,
and he got banned from driving. So we got a driver called Cannonball,
an amiable ex-trucker with permanently bulging eyes. This chap
was quite overwhelmed to be connected to what he thought were
celebrities, and used to lug the gear for us, as well as being
Dave's general factotum. When I sold him a pair of cowboy boots
he developed the swagger of a Mexican bandit. He eventually became
something of a celebrity himself, dressing up as a woman and getting
stabbed to death and disembowelled in the Jack the Ripper act.
I must say I've seen more convincing cross-dressers...but I learnt a
couple of things about driving from Cannonball which I've never
forgotten. Brian, his real name was."
Tom Littlewood
and The 2i's
"So what was the
I's really like? Well....it was just a coffee bar, with room for
about 20 people to stand comfortably. Behind the counter was the
espresso machine and a few bottles of soft drinks. A door at the
back led to the kitchen....but not much cooking was ever done
there - because it was also Tom's office. Besides the sink and
gas cooker, there was a large cupboard containing nothing but
a desk diary, and on the wall a four-pennies-in-the-slot
telephone. And that was it.
As for Tom, he
was a 'Mad' Frankie Fraser type, with a slight northern accent.
Clearly a man with a past and a very private home life. Judging by
the way he cooked himself a slice of meat, he could have learned to
survive in the jungle warfare of Korea. Nevertheless his brown eyes
sometimes revealed a certain sense of humour. Rock and roll didn't
interest him, except for the amount of extra cash he could squeeze
out of it. When some distant promoter phoned up to ask what famous
musicians were in Sutch's band, he replied, "We've got Scratch
and Scrape Bailey on guitar, Freddie Fingers Lee on
piano"........and Andy Wren had a new name. It's possible Tom
had appeared in the film 'Tommy Steele Story' as the judo instructor
he really was. He didn't put up with much nonsense, and would say to
Sutch "Now look, fella....."
The usual
clientele of the I's were general Soho flotsam and jetsam. Rock and
roll hopefuls, and other doubtfully employed characters. Jerry
the Bat, a diminutive bass player. A nameless drummer straight out
of Belsen. Tom Football Head, who could sing about three
rock numbers, and had a job opening the curtains in a strip club.
Casey Jones, freeloader and rock singer. Lily of the Dilly, and her
friend Awful Brenda (occupations undisclosed, and neither of
whom were awful.) Paul Raven, Jackie Lynton, etc etc. Big Jim,
cabbie and occasional chauffeur to the stars. All these people
looked decidedly pale and undernourished. Palest of all was Bobby
Woodman, the Playboys' drummer.
On the walls of
the I's were a few photos of musicians who'd once played there,
but had since moved on and now avoided the place. Drummer Red Reece,
Tex Makins.... But in 1961/2, all the musicians who went to the
I's (Savages included) were strongly influenced by the sound of the Playboys,
which really came from Bobby Woodman. It was a hard. punchy.
aggressive style which has made any other British rock or pop music
sound weak and flimsy by comparison. And Woodman had his hair
bleached for visual impact. On stage Vince Taylor had true
charisma; it's sad that he destroyed his own career by being
absolutely irresponsible - twice! Once in England, and then in
France where he had become a huge star. Vinci Taylor et ses
Playboys, alors!
From the main
coffee bar area you went down some narrow stairs to a dismal, dark
and gloomy basement about the size of a large bedroom, lit by a
couple of weak bulbs. At one end were a few milk crates with planks
on top of them, which everybody assumed was the stage. And there may
have been some sort of microphone system, left over from the Boer
War. The nearest toilets were probably Piccadilly Circus Station.
Why was it all
so special? Well, Tom had once let Thomas Hicks sing there, and they
made a big deal of it in the 'Tommy Steele Story' film. Perhaps
Cliff Richard and the Drifters played there before they were
anybody. And the BBC once did a programme about the hand-jive
craze, with some well-behaved youngsters neatly sitting in rows
downstairs. As if!!! Only Tom Littlewood could have
thought of putting on "entertainment" in that basement,
and charging people to go in. Free enterprise works!"
After Pop
"Your last
mention of me is something like: 'and Rick left the music business'.
Well - I didn't ......I joined THE music business. Around 1970
I went to the Guildhall School of Music for a while, and became an
orchestral player. From 72-75 I was on contrabass with the London
Festival Ballet touring orchestra. I must know more about
Tchaikovsky ballets than any other bass guitarist on the
planet! After that I was freelance with various
other orchestras. I tell you, doing a Brahms symphony at the
Festival Hall with the Philharmonia is not quite the same as rocking
on the back of a lorry in the Ace car park. Having said
that, it's a privilege these last couple of years to have finally
worked with Willie Harris. He was the first rock and roll act in
this country, he was there before anybody else, and he's seen
it all. I respect him for that. I gave up playing in 78,
sold my double bass for thousands, sold my flat, and went to a
commercial pilots' training school. Then Iris invited me
to play at Carlo's 60th birthday. It's a good thing she did, really,
because I'm studying music seriously these days, and I think I'm
getting the hang of it at last.
Finally...I've said it
before and I'll say it again. Sutch wouldn't have got anywhere
without Carlo".
As told to Giselle in
1999.
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