10
OUT
ON OUR OWN
LEON: Home again, what a tour! What a financial
disaster! So much for sharing the profits of Victor’s banana bending tour -
there weren’t any! It seemed that Peter was right about October after all. When
our intrepid band of troupers returned from Queensland in the middle of October
1961, we were stony broke! It was easy being broke at Ellis Beach but back in
the real world, it was a different story.
Our future prospects looked even worse. Jon’s car had been repossessed because he was away for so long he forgot to send any money home - not that there was any money to send home anyway! My FJ panel van had broken down and it was towed away in my absence. Dear old Bob Malcolm (bless his heart) was still trying to keep the dying rock’n’roll dances going with some of our loyal fans still in attendance. Dig & the R’Jays started back at the Buffalo Hall near Central Station. Apart from that, there weren't too many gigs on the horizon. The band needed a permanent gig to get us up on our feet financially. It looked like we’d have to resort to a pub gig. How degrading! Still, beggars can't be choosers.
I arranged for
the band to do an audition (even more degrading!) at the Millers’ Brighton
Hotel on November 9. One thing we had learned during our tours was the ability
to entertain people. Besides the rock’n’roll, we already knew how to do
floorshows and comedy routines etc., but we had never played all night, for six
nights a week including Saturday afternoons, in the same place. With such a big
workload we recruited Sandy Davis in the band to do most of the lead vocals and
play rhythm guitar. We couldn't subject Digby to this degrading step. Besides,
the job only paid about £25 a week each and we were used to getting that for
one night! Oh, how the mighty have fallen!
“Don’t you
know any standards?” said the Millers’ hirer-and-firer, Johnny Wade, during the
audition. Wade was an ex-Hawaiian guitarist who hated rock’n’roll with a
passion. Through his very friendly relationship with the Millers’ Hotel
management, he had been appointed musical director for the chain of Sydney
hotels.
“What’s a
standard?” said Jon, looking puzzled and rather bugged. Jon thought he was
talking about a car. “You know? Songs like How High The Moon, The Lady Is A
Tramp or some popular jazz waltzes,” said Johnny Wade with an officious
wave of the hand.
“We wouldn't play
that shit even if we did know it,” mumbled Jon who looked at me despondently
and said, “What are we doing here anyway?” After checking that we were all in
the Musicians' Union. Johnny Wade said “Don’t call us, we’ll call you” or words
to that effect!
Back at dig’s
place after the audition debacle, we were all feeling a little dejected with
the whole business. Dig's father consoled us with a drink. “You boys mustn't
let your talents go to waste,” said Gordon Richards as we drank all his beer.
“Don't worry,” added the ever optimistic Dig. “Something will turn up. We can't
all be rock’n’roll stars forever you know.”
A week later,
November 17, 1961, Dig Richards & the R’Jays with guest artist Lee Sellers
played at the Lithgow Police Boys Club with bassist Mike Lawler back in the
band. The show was very successful and we made £17 each. If rock’n’roll was
dying, they forgot to tell the kids about it. That night as we drove home
through the blinding rain, Digby explained that an agency called EFS had
arranged a couple of good gigs for us in Canberra and Adelaide.
When Dig and I
went to the office of the EFS agency (Col Farquar and Eddy Santos), it turned
out that the gig in Adelaide was for Digby only and the gig in Canberra
was for the R’Jays only. This was a turning point for the band. We had
to face the fact that this could be the end of Dig Richards and the R’Jays.
Dig and I
looked at each other and shrugged as we signed our separate contracts. The
money was good and there was nothing else in the offing. The R’Jays had never
worked without a lead singer before, so five nights a week at the Fiesta Coffee
Lounge in Canberra would give us a chance to get lots of vocals and floorshows
together. A band that sang together would be something new. It could be fun! Not
only that, there was enough money to book the weekly guest artist of our
choice.
The R’Jays
(Jon, Leon, Ron and Michael) with our guest artist for the first week Paul
Dever, headed off for Canberra. We drove down in an FJ Holden owned by Paul’s
band vulture friend, Ricky Dell (“Ricky Smell”) who was liable to get up on
stage and sing with the band if you didn't watch him. Ricky forgot to close the
bonnet on the car, so about half way up to Canberra, while we were doing 80
miles per hour, the said bonnet flew up and enveloped the windscreen and half
the roof. Not to be deterred by this frightening event, we tied the crumpled
bonnet back down with a piece of rope and plowed on. If we could survive a tour
around Queensland, we could certainly survive a trip to Canberra!
CAUGHT IN THE A.C.T.
JON:
“Christ it's all so bloody neat and tidy!” roared Ricky ‘Smell’ over the noise
of his FJ Holden as it rumbled down Northborne Avenue with the bonnet tied down.
“Yes, this city is perfectly designed,” said Ron with an air of pious
authority. Yes perfectly designed to get lost in, as we were to find out many
times!
“Bullshit,
Ron!” I said angrily, “Is this the Ron Patton discourse on architecture?”
“Settle down you guys,” said Paul Dever amiably. Paul seemed to have taken over
Digby’s job of mediator and peacemaker.
Leon had the
right idea. He changed cars at Mittagong and was now on his way down with
Michael Lawler in his ‘college boy’ Austin Healey Sprite (the bug-eyed model)
and his ‘college boy’ haircut.
Soon enough,
we pulled up outside the Civic Centre where, upstairs, lurked the Fiesta Coffee
Lounge, the place we would be playing for the next month. Our gear was coming
down by train and we would have to pick it up at the station later in the
afternoon. Upstairs we found the proprietor of the Fiesta, Herr Klaus Hauffman unt
his lovely frau. They seemed to be very nice and we were plied with
coffee and strudel till it came out of our ears.
“Where are we
staying, Klaus?” I asked anxious to have a kip before that night. “Vell you are
schtayink at some loffly people’s house called the Lovejoys out at Denman,
isn't it?” Klaus put “isn't it?” after every sentence whether it fitted or not.
El Cheapo Accommodations had struck again. Somebody’s house! For a month! Come
on now! I made a mental note to speak with the ‘drumming superfluity’ on his
arrival. Leon had arranged this gig he had to cop the whinges.
The
band-leading Baby Drummer arrived with Mick at about this time. “What’s this
shit about staying at some people's place?” I said bailing him up in the
doorway before he even said “hello”. “Buggered if I know,” said the Drummer,
“It’s the first I've heard of it. By the way Michael, I think I’ll take you up
on that offer to stay at your uncle’s with you.” Cunning as the proverbial
shithouse rat that Drummer! So saying, Mick went to his uncle’s with Leon as a
very willing guest and I left with Paul Dever, Ricky Smell and the walking
encyclopedia, Ron, for the Lovejoy's house out at Denman, wherever the hell
that was!
We played our
first coffee lounge gig that night, Wednesday, November 29, to a rather
“beatnikish” bunch of people. We couldn’t play much rock’n’roll and we couldn’t
play loud, much to my disgust. I placated myself musically by playing an
acoustic classic guitar in some softer bossa nova (“do-the-boss-a-favour”)
numbers in which Ron played some nice flute. Whatever I have said about Ron, he
did play very well. When he was hot, Ron used to play some of the best roaring
rock solos on sax that I’d ever heard and his flute playing was very tasteful.
Paul Dever sang some very nice songs as guest artists and altogether things
were very nice. Not much energy, just nice.
The next day,
a plane scheduled for Canberra went down into Botany Bay on take-off. Michael
was booked on that plane until he cancelled and decided to drive down. Lucky
one Michael!
On the second
night, Ron developed a rather strange musical quirk. He said “I’m writing songs
now you know?” During our breaks, which could be anything from 15 minutes to 45
depending on whether we were chatting up a bird or not, Ron would sit up on the
stage on a stool, set up a music stand with a sheet of blank manuscript paper
on it, pick up my classical guitar and ‘sproing’ across the open strings, he
would then write down one single note. Now the note would have to be either
E.A.D.G.B or E. Ron’s note however could be anything from F sharp to Z, proving
that all this “artistic” display was utter bullshit! He would keep repeating
this performance until someone would say, “What are you doing Ron?” whereupon
Amadeus would reply, “Oh, I’m a songwriter, you know?” I put up with this crap
for a few nights and then banned him from touching my guitar. Undeterred, he
switched to bass of which he knew even less. We gave up. At least it kept him
out of our hair!
On the third
night, we did one of the mimes, in the floorshow. We had a new one: Stan
Freberg’s St. George and the Dragonet. We were already doing a couple of
others as well as Sh'Boom. Ron was the fire-breathing dragon standing on
a chair with a blanket around him. Leon was St. George and Michael and I were
the knave and maiden who were almost devoured by the dragon. “He breathed fire
on me; he boined me already!” “How can I be sure of that ma’am?” “Believe me I
got it straight from the dragon’s mouth!” The crowd went wild. Our floorshows
became the talk of Canberra. Lord knows, there was little else to talk about!
We had become an instant ‘show band’. “Perhaps I should paint myself black and
do the Haka?”
That following
night at the Fiesta we met a bass player who played in the Con Lianos tent-show
on the showgrounds. Lianos was Laurel Lea’s father. The bass player was the
inimitable Lindsay Doig, alias NOSMO KING (No smoking - get it?) Nosmo joins us
in part two; don't worry you wont miss him! We also met another bass player who
loved to get up and sit in with us. He wasn’t a very good bass player but he
made a top British Secret Service man. It was none other than 007 himself from Her
Majesty’s Secret Service. “My name is Lazenby, George Lazenby.”
At that time George was only a 002, licensed to sell cars in Canberra and sit in on bass with visiting bands, provided he lent his 1948 Ford Pilot to the lead guitar player to take home his new girlfriend, Dot. Thank God, George came along! I was getting sick of spending so much money on taxis to Mrs. Lovestick’s and not being able to get sheilas in the back of a car!
George soon
got tired of me bludging the Ford Pilot every night to consummate my torrid
affair with Dot, so he sold me a 1954 Vanguard from the car-yard where he
worked. The Vanguard cost £30 and had a lovely big back seat, much to Dot’s and
my delight!
Leon went back
to Sydney for two days to recruit a new guest artist. He arrived back with none
other than Little Sammy. I was very pleased to see
Sammy again and we all had a great time when he was on stage. A bit more rock’n’roll,
thank you! Sammy stayed at the Townhouse Motel and we had some “preeetty cool”
parties there!
After Sammy
went home, we didn't get any more guest artists owing to the great amount of
floorshow material that we'd accumulated. We could handle the whole night by
ourselves. The R’Jays had now become a self
contained band without a lead singer. We could survive on our own!
Armed with this reassuring thought, we said our goodbyes to Klaus and Marge Hauffman, who had been very kind to us during our stay, and also to Dot and George and all the other friends we’d met in, this, our National Capital. Leon, Ron and I piled all our gear in the Vanguard and headed home for Xmas. We made it all the way to Newtown, just near the railway line, when the brakes failed on the Vanguard and I plowed into the car in front. I reversed back to check the damage and, of course, with no brakes I rolled forward and hit him again! The guy thought I was doing it on purpose so he drove off while he was still in one piece! Thanks a lot for the great car, George!
*********
To Chapter 11 Let's
Twist Again
2,265w