Chapter Eight – The Mid-Eighties

Some eight years after I originally planned to visit America, I finally boarded a jet headed Stateside. My plan was to slowly circle the globe using a Qantas/TWA ‘Round-The-World’ plane ticket which permitted as many stops along the way as desired, provided I kept moving in the same direction – in my case, West to East. I soon discovered a loophole in the conditions which allowed ‘backward’ movement if the intended airport wasn’t directly attainable without going through a hub. As there were fewer hubs in those days, I spent a lot of time travelling East to New York in order to change planes and immediately fly west again!

First up was the obligatory three-night stop in Hawaii, staying at the now demolished Edgewater Hotel in Waikiki, and a visit to all the tourist spots in Honolulu, including Pearl Harbour and snorkelling in Hanauma Bay. From there I was soon en route to Los Angeles, but flight schedules meant a night’s stopover in San Francisco. 

I checked into the Oxford Hotel with no real plans for the evening and although the hotel was situated on the corner of Mason Street & Market Street, it also adjoined Turk Street and the less than inviting Tenderloin district. However, I bought a newspaper to see what was happening that night and I was thrilled to find that legendary guitarist Duane Eddy was playing at Wolfgang’s club. I made my way to 901 Columbus Ave and arrived just as the first show was finishing and I settled in – to wait for the 11pm session to start.

Before I had left Australia, my friend and instrumental connoisseur Geoff Jermy had asked me to say ‘hello’ to Duane Eddy for him, should I ever cross his path. As I sat tight in the balcony of Wolfgang’s I decided to write that very greeting on the back of my business card and give it to the formidable looking bouncer guarding the stage door. Time passed and at one point I looked down from my perch and noticed the bouncer and a lady seeming to be searching the crowd and I suddenly realised they were holding my card! I dashed down the stairs and caught them just before they went backstage again.

The lady turned out to be Duane’s wife Deed and she explained that they were tickled pink to receive the message from someone who knew Geoff and if I could hang around after the show, Duane would love to say howdy. The show was excellent to say the least with Duane joined on stage by Steve Douglas on sax and Robben Ford on guitar and a crack rhythm section. After the show, Duane invited me to join them for supper at the posh Fairmont Hotel which he said was the choice place for food in the wee hours of the morning. I sat there with Duane and Deed, Steve Douglas (who humoured my questions about him working with Bob Dylan) and his wife and manager Larry. At the end of the day, I was reflecting on how I had only been in the USA for a few hours and wondering if every day was going to be like this? And it nearly was! Read on…

The next day it was off to the City of Angels – Los Angeles, arriving at L.A. International Airport (“…where the big jet engines roar…” – is there anywhere in America that doesn’t have its own song?) on TWA Flight 177. Here I would enjoy the generous hospitality of my folk-club buddy Lee Williams and his wife Teri who lived in North Hollywood. During the course of the next week I would visit many tourist attractions including Disneyland, Venice Beach, and also Universal Studios where I took part, as a random audience member, in the Screen Test Comedy Theatre sideshow that demonstrated basic movie special effects. In one scene I was strapped into a life-size model of a biplane and given only a few moments warning of what was ahead. “Are you OK about being upside down?” the stagehand asked me, seconds before the plane flipped over! In the finished video you can see the look of ‘surprise’ on my face.

Later, a visit to Norman’s Rare Guitars left me drooling, a day trip to Tijuana gave me a glimpse of Mexico, and I finally caught up with my friend from the Festival Records days, Rita Jean and her new husband and baby. On various nights I was lucky enough to see the Johnnie White Show at his Little Nashville Club in North Hollywood and also the legendary jazz guitarist Lenny Breau at Donte’s club, just ten weeks before his untimely death.

An absolute highlight of the week was performing at the infamous Palomino Club, a popular hangout for countless country entertainers over the years, from Patsy Cline and Linda Ronstadt to Merle Haggard and Willie Nelson, and a focal point for the California country scene.

Thursday night was ‘Talent Night’ with veteran singer, writer, producer and later Country Music Hall of Fame member Cliffie Stone as M.C. for the show. Lee had alerted me to the possibility of singing with the awesome house band. Sure enough, when I took to the stage with my harmonica to sing and play Rollin’ In My Sweet Baby’s Arms, accompanying me were The Palomino Riders: (pictured above, L to R) Harry Orlove (guitar), Steve Duncan (drums), Arnie Moore (bass) Jay Dee Maness (pedal-steel guitar/bandleader). Steve and Jay were also members of the Desert Rose Band, Harry was a well-recorded guitarist (Vassar Clements, Billy Swan and more), while Arnie played for many years with John Stewart, who wrote two of Reg Lindsay’s biggest hits, Armstrong and July, You’re A Woman. While I didn’t win the contest, I certainly has a great time. Lee however, the Cockney Cowboy, scored a place with some of his ‘Thames Delta Blues’ played on slide ukulele.

Now it was time to head for Nashville, with two quick stops on the way…

First stop – Las Vegas in the mid-eighties was a shadow of its former self, but there was still enough glitter to hold my interest for a 36-hour stopover. When an elephant passed by me in the aisle of the Stardust showroom, headed for the stage, I’ll never forget that encounter (or the smell). Calamity Jayne and her Cowpunks were dishing up Outlaw music at the El Rancho Hotel, not long before she opened her own club and became a genuine outlaw herself.

Second stop – Back on red-eye to Nashville with a 5.45am stop in St. Louis on the way. Bleary-eyed I disembarked there, only to be surprised by Scotty (DeWitt Scott) who whisked me off to his home where the wonderful Mary had breakfast ready for me. Afterwards, I relaxed watching videos of the Grand Ole Opry shows while Scotty opened up his music store for the day, before delivering me back to the airport refreshed and ready for the 9.45am flight to Music City, USA.

I arrived in Nashville, Tennessee at 11am and soon checked into the Hall of Fame Motor Inn (now the Best Western Plus Music Row) which was not only a great place to stay, but also had excellent live music in the lounge. The resident band was led by Nashville Superpicker Phil Baugh playing his Peavey T-60 guitar that was modified with a mechanical pitch-pedal on every string (the MSA attachment), Rob Hajacos on fiddle and young pedal-steel guitarist Paul Franklin. The hotel lobby was a great place to bump into folks and it was there I met David Frizzell (Lefty’s brother), Aussie songwriter Andy King and outlaw David Allan Coe.

Chet Atkins at Fan Fair 1984 I had timed my arrival in Nashville to coincide with Fan Fair, the annual country music festival. Back then it was held at the Tennessee State Fairground, where around 20,000 fans enjoyed a week of concerts. Many of the shows contained artists that were signed to the same record label. I particularly remember the RCA label show, compered by the great Chet Atkins who played magical solo numbers on his guitar during the changeover between bands. In that week I saw so many legends perform: Conway Twitty, Loretta Lynn, Crystal Gayle, Reba McEntire, Tammy Wynette, and many more. In the fan booths, Lee Greenwood, Ed Bruce, Johnny Paycheck, Hoyt Axton were signing autographs for the fans.

Miss Loretta gives me a wave…

Australians were in town too, and at Fan Fair I came across Reg Lindsay playing on the International Show and the Le Garde Twins signing up new members to their fan club in the autograph booths. Back in town, crossing the street I bumped into Wayne Horsburgh who was also making his first visit to Nashville, and in the middle of the week I joined Donita Dey on stage at Anderson’s Cajun’s Wharf where she was sitting in with pianist Earl Poole Ball’s band. In the photo on the right, although I’m obscured, I appear to be playing a borrowed Les Paul guitar.

7th June 1984: My friend Scotty kindly took me to Jeffran College in Hermitage, Tennessee. When we arrived, ‘The World’s Foremost Steel Guitarist’ Buddy Emmons was in full flight, only pausing between tunes to munch on M&M’s. Scotty told me we were up next but without Buddy, who had been playing all morning and would be taking a well-deserved break. So it was that Scotty (on his Rickenbacker ‘frying pan’) and myself (on another borrowed guitar), took to the stage along with Jeff Newman on pedal steel and Bob Browning on vocals, to follow Buddy’s blistering performance. A memorable day for me indeed.

 

On the weekend, I would enjoy shows at the Grand Ole Opry featuring Hank Snow and Dottie West, plus at Opryland, the 13th Annual Grand Masters Fiddling Championship show that included Roy Acuff, Porter Wagoner and Connie Smith. Back on Music Row, at the legendary RCA Studio ‘A’, I met up with Peter Russell, producer for Decca Records in the sixties, whose work included all of the early Tom Jones hits. A couple of days later I was to visit Peter’s impressive home, complete with tennis court and an office adorned with countless gold records!

Peter was a friend of Frank Ifield – who had provided the introduction for me, as was the case the next day when I had lunch at Maude’s Courtyard with ex-pat Brit’s Ralph Murphy and Roger Cook. Ralph’s career as a musician and producer spanned Britain and Canada, before he moved to Nashville. There he had even greater success as a hit-songwriter (Half the Way, He Got You etc) and with a joint venture publishing/production company with Roger called Picalic. Roger himself, was already a legendary songwriter, best known for his collaborations with Roger Greenaway (You’ve Got Your Troubles, Something’s Gotten Hold of My Heart, Melting Pot etc). I was very humbled to spend time with such giants of the music business.

Later that day I met up with Terri Heart and later still, Brien Fisher and we reminisced about their trip to Australia in 1982. On my last morning in Nashville, Brien had organised for me to meet Ray Flacke at Studio 19 where Ray was setting up to record overdubs for Vern Gosdin’s Gospel album If Jesus Comes Tomorrow. Brien had previously produced Vern Gosdin on the Ovation and AMI labels, but this time Robert John Jones was behind the controls.

Ray was very friendly and shared guitar tips with me – a fellow countryman, in the geographical sense at least. Brien told me that it was a pity I hadn’t arrived in Nashville a bit sooner, as Ray had recently left the Ricky Skaggs band and Ricky had just given up trying to find a replacement, deciding to play lead guitar himself! Later, after I had left town, he said it was a pity I didn’t stick around a little longer, as Bobby Bare was now looking for a new guitar picker. I’m not sure either of those scenarios would have eventuated in my favour, but it was nice of him to think it could have been a possibility.

That evening I flew back to St. Louis, Missouri, this time to spend a few days with Scotty and Mary. Early the next morning though, maximising the use of my multi-trip plane ticket, I took the 7am flight to Memphis, Tennessee. A quick visit to Beale Street, Sun Records and of course, Graceland, before flying back to St. Louis that evening. Scotty introduced me to another super-talented pedal steel guitarist who he worked with – Russ Wever. Russ was playing that weekend at the First Capitol Inn – St. Charles, Missouri with the Jimmy Queen Band (son of local legend Roy Queen). Not only did Russ take me along, but I got to sit in with the band. Fun times!

Next up was a quick trip to New York City, visiting my journalist friend Melanie who I first met in Sydney when she was busy bringing the band Air Supply to the attention of the masses. From there it was off to Framingham, Massachusetts for the day to visit Peter Larsen, who I hadn’t seen since I jammed with the band Merribuck, back in Australia in the mid-seventies. Jerry Lee Lewis was playing at The Channel in Boston that night, so that’s where we headed, excited to know that guitar legend James Burton was playing in the band. The show was amazing and I went to introduce myself to James after the show. “Hello James. Big fan…yada yada. Did you ever hear of the show Elvis – The Musical that was a big hit in the West-End of London? Well, they brought it to Australia, where I played the part…of YOU!” He looked me up and down and finally said, “Uh-huh”.

I couldn’t expect much more after he’d spent a night on stage with ‘The Killer’, but he generously posed with us for photos.

 

The very next day I was off to Texas and Dallas-Fort Worth for a taste of the wild west and Billy Bob’s – ‘The World’s Largest Honky Tonk’. After checking out the sights and enjoying the Hill City Cowboy Band at The Pickin’ Parlor, I was out with new friends at The Red Parrot nightclub, where they introduced me to Bobby Whitlock. Here was a rock legend who had played keyboards with Delaney & Bonnie, George Harrison, Eric Clapton, The Rolling Stones, and was a member of Derek and the Dominos. Respect! Bobby and his band put on a great show that night.

Another day, another plane, this time to New Orleans. Back in Australia I had done some musical arrangements for an up-and-coming singer Donna Lee Coyle. Her family was now living in Louisiana and they kindly showed me around and organised for me to do an interview with Vicki Schnellenberger on country music station Radio WFCG. Having had grits for breakfast, visited the Governor’s Mansion in Baton Rouge and travelled through the swamps, wearing my Hank Williams Jr. t-shirt, complete with confederate flag, it was time to leave the USA before I became too assimilated! In 37 days I had visited over a dozen cities but the next plane would take me all the way across the Atlantic Ocean.

I arrived at London’s Heathrow airport on 28th July 1984, to be met by my Dad Jon and sister Rachel, who (once again) I hadn’t seen for 7 years, and they took me to Grandma Howe’s house where I would initially be staying. I caught up with many relatives and sang for the first time at the local club in Hillmorton, with a band named ‘Arizona’. No repeat from me the next night when the also incongruously named ‘Tulsa Time’ were performing.

A couple of weeks earlier, I had sent Frank Ifield a postcard, casually alerting him to my imminent arrival. Grandma Howe was so excited to tell me that Frank had already telephoned, asking if I had turned up yet. Frank is, quite rightly, regarded as a huge star to Brits of the sixties and indeed, many other generations and nations around the globe. A week later, Frank arranged to collect me from Gran’s, to accompany him to his next concert. Gran lived in Bucknill Crescent, a semi-circular road which was only wide enough for two vehicles to pass each other if the parked cars were staggered or halfway up on the pavement. Imagine the unsuspecting Frank, attempting to manoeuvre his majestic, mink-over-sable coloured Roll-Royce Silver Cloud automobile between the parked cars, while netted-curtains twitched with curiosity, one house after another as he passed through the crescent. It was the talk of the village for quite some time!

Off we went on a jolly jaunt to the seaside, specifically the Primrose Valley Holiday Village in Filey, halfway between Scarborough and Bridlington. There I met for the first time, the members of Frank’s band of choice; Robbo, Barrie, Cozy, Bugsy and Crippen – excellent musicians, all.

As Barbary Coast they were, and still are, highly regarded as one of the best groups of the UK country scene. I learnt that they were always known by their nicknames because at one time, three of the members of the band were all named John! At this ‘Late Night Cabaret’ concert, I watched the band perform an opening spot and then Frank appeared to rapturous applause. He was obviously at ease with the band, as evidenced by some of the interplay between them, especially his banter with the irreverent and hilarious Robbo. By this point, I’d made up my mind that I wanted to be part of the show.

It took a while for the band and the country music press to get used to me being around, but Frank had plans, both musical and sartorial. The band was all off to the tailors to be fitted for elegant matching grey suits and white shoes. It was at North Walsham in Norfolk on July 14 that I made my first appearance with the show. Initially my participation was limited to Frank’s portion of the shows and I would add vocal and instrumental harmonies to the band’s existing musical arrangements.

Frank would introduce me to the audience halfway through his performance and leave me centre-stage to play Yakety Axe (the Benny Hill theme tune) while he had a short break – a drink or a smoke. As the audience applauded the fast ending of the tune, Frank would return and cajole the audience to clap even louder and call for more, at which point we would play the last chorus again at breakneck speed, bringing the house down. It was a very generous gesture on his part and I learned so much about presentation and the structure of a good performance by watching Frank, a master at work.

The next day, we didn’t have far to travel to Hopton-on-Sea, so a bit of sightseeing was in order. The heritage-listed Stracey Arms Windpump, The Broads, and then we chanced upon the stately Somerleyton Hall in Suffolk. The staff were just about to close the gates to visitors for the day, but the sight of Frank’s Rolls Royce caught their eye. Before long, Lord Somerleyton himself was giving Frank and me a personal tour of the grounds. It was here in 1979 that actress Joan Collins ‘lost her head’ in an episode of television’s Tales Of The Unexpected, written by Roald Dahl. In stark contrast to the luxury of the ‘Roller’, the next week I would buy myself a second-hand 1973 Toyota Corolla for 275 pounds, that had seen better days. It ran for a short while, but it didn’t have the mechanical stamina to last through the winter weather, a few months later. 

Frank’s schedule took us from one side of the country to the other and included a wide variety of venues, ranging from picturesque town theatres to end-of-pier seaside venues, and even suburban bingo halls! Around this time, many small town cinemas had been converted into dedicated bingo palaces with big prizes and celebrity guest entertainment, often in the daytime. The audiences took the proceedings very seriously with none of the jokey number calls I remembered from my youth. This was serious stuff and woe betide any noisy musicians trying to carry in their equipment during a high stakes game.

With no concerts planned nearer to Rugby, Grandma Howe and some of my aunties chose to travel to Birmingham to watch us at the Granada Bingo Hall, next door to the Aston Villa soccer ground. That weekend we played at the delightful Princess Theatre in Hunstanton. Granddad Carroll was by now 79 and living in a nearby care home. His son, my Uncle Bob and Aunty Ann brought him along to the concert and the Lynn News & Advertiser newspaper interviewed Granddad. Although the published article contained several factual errors and minor exaggerations, one could tell that Grandad enjoyed telling the yarns and the notoriety sure made his day.

Two days later, I took my sister Rachel – who was very keen on dancing at the time – to the Birmingham Hippodrome to see Song and Dance. The show featured Marti Webb in ‘Tell Me On a Sunday’ (she originated the role, singing the music of Andrew Lloyd Webber and the lyrics of Don Black) and dancer Graham Fletcher in ‘Variations’ based on the A Minor Caprice No. 24 by Paganini. I particularly enjoyed Marti Webb’s performance, but it would be the arrangement of Paganini’s 24th Caprice that would stay with me until I eventually recorded it on my Classic Twang album in 2007.

The following day, Barbary Coast had invited me to join them onstage at the prestigious Peterborough ‘Festival of Country Music’. The show was filmed by Anglia Television and the band’s pyrotechnics (masterminded by Cozy) at the end of the set, assured that their rendition of Hearts On Fire would be the closing number of the broadcast.
Robbo and Bob, onstage at Peterborough 1984		Barbary Coast – pyrotechnics on the left, twin guitars on the right

That weekend, which was the August bank holiday, Frank was appearing at the ‘Town and Country Festival’ at the Royal Showground in Stoneleigh. Also on the bill – “Meet Doctor Who every day…thanks to the Milk Marketing Board”!

Being a lifelong Doctor Who fan, I was delighted to witness actor Jon Pertwee arrive, completely in costume as the Third Doctor. I took this snap of him during his personal appearance, just before he left in the Tardis.

Barbary Coast had invited me along to a few of their local jam sessions which were great fun, and they even organised a show night at the Irchester Village Hall featuring “Comedy star Slim Pickins and introducing from Australia, Bob Howe, plus a Late Bar”. Two pounds a ticket…what a bargain!

Amongst all these gigs, I still found time to attend some amazing concerts; The Crusaders and Van Morrison on different nights at Birmingham Odeon, Arlen Roth and BJ Cole at Drury Lane (presented by the delightfully-named promoters Allbang & Strummit), Richard Digance and Elkie Brooks at the Apollo in Coventry, and most notably, a night at Ronnie Scott’s Club in London with my cousin Lynne (“hello my lovely”). We arrived to see the amazing Gil Evans Orchestra, only to find that tickets were limited to either the first row or the very back. No contest…front row at Ronnie’s meant propping your feet up on the edge of the stage. It was like being in the band! The saxophone player looked awfully familiar and to my surprise it turned out to be Australian Dale Barlow who by then, was really making a name for himself, internationally.

In October, Frank and the band were on the bill for a ‘Salute to Country’ weekend at the Kodak Hall in Wealdstone, Middlesex. Also on the show was the wonderful pedal-steel guitarist Sarah Jory, still only fourteen years old. Sarah had just played at the Steel Guitar Convention in St. Louis, so we had a mutual friend in Scotty. Being without a lead guitarist that evening, I stepped in while Sarah beautifully played a great assortment of steel guitar instrumentals, most of which I knew from playing at so many Australian Steel Guitar conventions. The following year Sarah invited me to play on what would become her third LP, Cross Country. By then she had begun to win numerous awards, forged a stellar career as a solo artist whilst much later, also remaining in demand as a guest band-member for many artists, including Van Morrison.

The December issue of the monthly magazine ‘International Country Music News’ reviewed the Kodak Hall concert: Barbary Coast provided the fireworks, literally and figuratively in a set that was a revelation of the talents of new lead guitarist Bob Howe…here he was electric! Not that the Barbarians can ever be said to be a one-man band. Robbo was irrepressible, Cozy’s drum solo was light years ahead, Baz proved to be a key man and the whole thing had a solid Bugsy bass. The magazine also featured the band on the cover, posing in our grey suits and white shoes, complete with tinsel, Christmas presents and Mrs Claus.

When we weren’t wearing ‘our best’, the band had another set of outfits, the themes of which which were set before I joined the band. At the front was Robbo in full cowboy gear, including leather chaps. Cozy dressed as a wartime fighter pilot, which made a lot of sense when he performed his show-stopping drum solo to the tune of 633 Squadron and The Dambusters, complete with pyrotechnics. Barrie was dressed as a music-hall comic with check jacket and oversized bow tie, while Bugsy had a futuristic persona in metallic clothes. Somewhere along the way, I had acquired a red Japanese shirt, a head band (with the symbols that translated as ‘hit show’), a dangling Japanese character as an earring and mirrored sunglasses. What the drinkers in the audience thought when I took to the stage dressed like that, drinking a cup of tea and singing Jolene, has been lost in the mists of history. They seemed comfortable with a level of eccentricity from the band, as long as we gave them the country music they had come to love.

1984 was coming to a close and the bookings were flowing fast and furiously. By this time, Barbary Coast had lost their guitarist and I was playing all of their gigs as well as Frank’s concerts. I needed to complete my ‘Round-The-World’ ticket before it expired and decided January was the best time to fly back to Australia. Frank generously offered to bring me back to the UK if I could make my absence as short as possible, so I made a quick trip back to Sydney, making brief tourist visits to Amsterdam (goedemorgen Vincent), Athens (mmm, kebabs), Bangkok (floating markets!) and Hong Kong (10,000 Buddhas).

After a quick visit with my Mum in sunny Sydney, attending a few concerts (Joe Ely supporting Jimmy Barnes, LRB at The Tivoli with John Farnham out front, the Jim Kelly Connexion, Rickie Lee Jones at the Hordern Pavilion) and playing a handful of gigs, it was back to chilly England, this time to the town of Wellingborough in Northamptonshire. This was Barbary Coast’s home town, so it made sense that I should relocate there and share a house with Bugsy. It made things easier for travelling to gigs and each adventure would begin with Robbo driving around the town to collect us, one by one.

There was always a mystery as well: “I’ll pick you up around dinner time” would be the vague plan. The only way to pinpoint the actual time of arrival would be to boil the kettle. It was a certainty that as soon as you poured a cuppa, the van’s horn would honk. The band transport was the ubiquitous Ford Transit van, decked out with a row of three aeroplane seats bolted in behind the front bench seat, the standard configuration for so many groups travelling up and down the motorways. This particular van was quite temperamental and prone to breaking down. More than once we would arrive back in Wellingborough on the back of an AA tow-truck, at the same time as the electric milk-cart (Ernie!) would be quietly making the morning delivery.

Later on, after an accident in the Transit van, the band acquired an old white ambulance which turned out to be slightly more comfortable. One time we were on a motorway, struggling along in a stop-start traffic jam, when I found a small suitcase behind my seat. It contained an old red-headed ventriloquist doll that had been a band prop at some earlier time. Now the ambulance had tinted windows in the back where I sat, but at the top were clear glass sliding vents. We could see out though, and I spotted a car alongside us with parents in the front and two bored children in the back, gazing aimlessly out of their window. I held the dummy up to the top vent and poked his head out and made his arm wave at the kids. The look on their faces was priceless, but when I saw them tell their parents, I pulled the dummy out of sight. The Mum and Dad looked quizzically, wondering if their offspring were making it up. I waited patiently for the oldies to look away and then I made the dummy wave at the kids again. I pranked them one more time, before I finally let the parents in on the joke by waving the dummy’s hand at them as well. It brightened the journey for a while.

As 1985 rolled on, we continued to play seaside concerts (my favourite), hotels, theatres and weekend events at holiday parks. Sometimes there would be a theme such as the Butlin’s Festival of the Sixties at Barry Island in Wales (Gavin & Stacey I hear you say?). As well as Frank, the bill included clarinettist Acker Bilk, Gerry & the Pacemakers and Peter Sarstedt. We would return there later in the year for their Country & Western Showdown, this time along with (my childhood crush) pop-singer turned country Clodagh Rodgers & the Lazy Band and, from the USA, The Flying Burrito Brothers. This line-up of the Burritos was lead by original member pedal steel guitarist Sneaky Pete Kleinow and while all of us musicians were enthralled, the audience were under-awed.

The British country music scene was a strange affair and on a ground roots level it was caught in something of a time warp. Jim Reeves and Slim Whitman records remained best-sellers, long after the rest of the world had moved on to more contemporary sounds. Visiting concert acts were an exception, and I travelled to London to see Ricky Skaggs perform a memorable show at the Dominion Theatre. Elvis Costello joined him for the encore and you can still hear me cheering on the Live In London LP.

There were so many country music clubs that a band could play almost every night of the week in one town or another, but the trade-off was an audience obsession with the wild-west, particularly Cowboys and Indians. Members of the crowd would turn up in full costume as Billy the Kid or Chief Sitting Bull and they would have shooting contests with fake guns. A typical night would end up with the Confederate flag being unfurled, hand held on heart, to the tune of American Trilogy. The next day the Cowboys and Indians would be back in civilian clothes, driving the Number 87 bus or serving behind the counter at Woolworths. The gunfire became such a problem that when Frank and the band played at the Haggerston Castle C&W Holiday Festival, the program stated “NO GUNFIRE BEFORE 8am and after 11pm” and suggests that “…you can always tell a real gunman by the way he handles his sidearms – he picks the right time and the right place – and never looks for trouble” !!

Over the years, Barbary Coast had been the band of choice for many American acts visiting the UK and March 1985 saw a visit from Jerry Arhelger, a country/gospel performer from Mobile, Alabama. With his rich baritone voice, Jerry was a natural for Gary Morris-type ballads and he had a very personal rapport with the audience, so it was not surprising to learn that he was also a preacher. We toured with Jerry for just over two weeks, including a memorable night at the original ‘Mean Fiddler’ club in London and the Easter weekend in Ireland for the Carling Country Music Festival. We flew from Birmingham, via Dublin to Cork where we played two evenings at the Metropole Hotel as part of a huge six-hour session nightly, that ended at 2 a.m. and also included Japanese fiddler Tokyo Matsu and American star Billie Jo Spears. Billie Jo had a worldwide hit with Blanket on the Ground a decade earlier, which I had promoted in Australia, back in my Festival Records days.

The headliner of the festival was Johnny Cash, appearing at the 1000 seater Cork Opera House in a show that included June Carter and the Johnny Cash Showband, Becky Hobbs and Australia’s own Jade Hurley. I went backstage to say ‘G’day’ to Jade and later wrote an article for Australia’s Capital News magazine on how he stole the show.

A short diversion for a ‘tech’ story here: I wrote that article and others, using a Dragon 32 computer. The 32 in the name denotes that it had 32 kilobytes of memory – not Gigabytes, or even Megabytes…kilobytes! Try explaining that to the kids of today. It also didn’t store any programs, so to use a basic word processor it was necessary to load the software into the computer’s memory every single session via an audio cassette. Likewise, having typed the article, I had to store it back on to a cassette. There was no email and I didn’t have a printer, but I knew a computer shop in the next town to Wellingborough that had the same model computer, attached to a printer. So I took my cassette, caught a train to Kenilworth, went to the shop, loaded in the article, printed it out (10p a page), put it in an envelope and took it to the Post Office and mailed it to Australia. I still think of that whenever I get frustrated with today’s technology and it helps put things in perspective.

Summer was approaching as were more seaside shows and ’99 ice creams’ on the piers, and festivals like the ‘Corby Highland Gathering/Sunday Funday’ on the 21st July 1985. There were many ‘attractions’ there including a ‘Battle of Britain’ Memorial Flight (they should have timed that to go with Cozy’s drum solo!), appearances by Darts superstar John Lowe (one hundred and EIGHTY!), Rod Hull and Emu, and Coronation Street’s Vera Duckworth. Entertainment included local stars and our friends Ann & Ray Brett as a family band with their kids, songwriter Raymond Froggatt with his band and, to close the show, Frank Ifield & Barbary Coast. It was there that photographer Peter Gwilt snapped my favourite picture of Frank and me in action – a photo that now appears in the book Articles In Sound, written in association with the Coventry Music Museum and Pete Chambers BEM. Frank is an Honorary Patron of the museum and the jacket he is wearing in the photo is on display there as #5 of ‘The history of Coventry and Warwickshire music in fifty definitive objects’. 

Around this time, Barbary Coast made a trip to London to the BBC Radio 2 studios in Maida Vale to record some live performance tracks for Wally Whyton’s Country Concert program. This was in the latter part of the hangover of the archaic ‘Needle Time’ rule (1935-88), created to restrict the amount of recorded music that could be transmitted by the BBC during any 24-hour period. This system also brought about Saturday Club with Brian Matthew in the sixties, that included many stars of the day like The Beatles who featured on many episodes, such as the fifth-anniversary show in October 1963 that also included Frank Ifield. ‘Needle Time’ was also a factor in the rise of popularity for Radio Luxembourg and the ‘pirate’ radio stations. Whatever the history, we were happy to be heard on BBC Radio 2, albeit at a similarly archaic union pay rate!

Jerry Arhelger made his second visit from America for the year in August and we performed several shows together, including that year’s ‘Festival of Country Music’ at Peterborough. Barbary Coast appeared dressed in our crazy outfits and then, during the stage announcements, we pulled off our tops to expose more subdued t-shirts for Jerry’s set, for which we were joined by Ann & Ray Brett.

We played many more theatres with Frank as the end of the year drew near; Maidstone, Bury St Edmunds (with Sarah Jory), Weston-super-Mare and also a weekend in Scotland (Invergordon, Irvine, Dunoon and Giffnock in Glasgow). Making a trip to Wales to record with Sarah at Loco Studio in Gwent in the picturesque Usk Valley, I played guitar on two pedal-steel instrumentals and also Sarah’s first vocal recordings. A decade later the BCMA voted her British Female Vocalist of the Year, three times in a row!

Soon afterwards, I would accompany Frank to a studio in London, to overdub some parts on tracks from sessions that he had started in Nashville at Cowboy Jack Clements studio. My contribution was some acoustic guitar (using Frank’s Ovation) and a little keyboards as well. We mixed a master tape and it was sent off to Australia in preparation for Frank’s next tour there. The tracks were compiled alongside some of his best-known recordings on a J&B label LP with the dubious title of 20 Greatest Hits.

After many years on tour, Barbary Coast started to experience road fatigue and decided they needed a break, much to the shock of the local country music scene. Towards the end of the year, the shows began to take on an air of finality and farewell. I had really enjoyed the local scene – band gigs with a regular crowd who were really into the music and fun, and Monday night jam sessions at the local snooker club, where musicians could experiment with new ideas. I had become influenced by the bands Dire Straits and Power Station (Robert Palmer) and often jammed in the power-trio format with Bugsy and Cozy and we called ourselves ‘Doris Patrol’. One of our better numbers was a rendition of John Fogerty’s The Old Man Down The Road which we concluded with a percussive duel – Cozy playing on a set of rototoms and me on a pair of classic Synare syndrums, while Bugs slid onto the drumkit to keep the beat going.

On 13th Nov 1985 Doris Patrol played our one and only official gig at The King Billy pub in Northampton. Barrie from Barbary Coast came to jam with us on keyboards and brought a friend, Bobby Clark who played sax. He brought a friend who played trumpet. Although the night turned into a reasonable jam session, it wasn’t the rock-god power-trio that was in my head. My disappointment was trivial at the time, but will provide a good punch line in a future chapter!

My last plane ticket included a free side-trip to Copenhagen which I had kept up my sleeve. Somehow I managed to find four days off in a row in December for a flying visit to utilise it and see the sights, including Tivoli Gardens, the Little Mermaid statue, and to sample some Danish food. Back in England, the last show with Frank was on 10th January 1986, a charity night for Mencap at The Public Hall, in Frank’s previous hometown of Harpenden. Although we were saying farewells, we didn’t know at the time, that we would all work together again, at different times and in various guises.

Before leaving England, I had a couple more entries in my diary. One was to see Sting perform at the N.E.C. in Birmingham. The other was to appear in a play in Wellingborough. Whilst living there, I had attended some music events and art classes at the Victoria Centre and now I was appearing there in the Tapestry Drama Group amateur production of The Laundry Girls by Bill Owen (who was better known as Compo in television’s The Last Of The Summer Wine). I think they rewrote the boss character Mrs Gimmel in The Laundry Girls as a male to accommodate the number of volunteers on hand, as the play normally has an all-female cast.

 

Frank and I flew out of London’s Heathrow Airport and arrived in Perth, Western Australia on 25th January 1986. Things began well enough, rehearsing a local band and beginning a two-week/seven show season at Max Kay’s Civic Theatre Restaurant, right there in the state’s capital city. It was when we set off for three weeks to tour the regional areas that things got a bit hairy. Local promoter Peter Nell had supplied a tour bus that would prove to be the bane of our existence.

On leaving Perth, with comedy act Thomas & Moore on board, our first show was 414 km south in Albany, the next day another 483 km east in Esperance. Luckily for us, the next show in Merredin (542 km north) scheduled for the next day, had been cancelled so we only had to travel 336 km north to Kamalda. After that it was only 60 km north to the historic gold-mining town of Kalgoorlie, but a new trial was upon us.

The air-conditioning in the bus had broken down and we were travelling in 40°C (100+°F) heat and were boiling inside the vehicle. We resorted to driving through the slightly cooler nights and sleeping at motels during the day, hoping that the next hotel or motel would have cool air – sadly not always the case.

The foreword of Frank Ifield’s biography I Remember Me: The First 25 Years, Frank provides a more lurid description of our predicament, though I won’t quote from it here.

Next we off to Southern Cross, Narrogin, Northam and Geraldton. By now, we were referring to our promoter by spelling his name with a ‘k’, as in ‘K’Nell (you have to say it out aloud with an Aussie accent). Then we had two days to travel 1,108 km north to Karratha, followed by Wickham, Port Hedland, Mt Newman and finally 1,185 km back to Perth. Looking back, I honestly don’t know how we managed to put on a show each night.

As a footnote, in one of the remote towns we had poor attendance at the show. I quizzed a local and he told me that no one would believe that the real Frank Ifield would be appearing in their town, so they assumed it must have been an impersonator/tribute act! Would that it was so, and not us. The next seven weeks were bliss by comparison. A five-show run at one of my favourite venues, Twin Towns Services Club on the Gold Coast with a great band, shows in Sydney and regional New South Wales (including some with Judy Stone on the bill), Canberra, Melbourne (caught up with friends and took in a show by the brilliant Emmanuel Brothers) and regional Victoria. Frank knew that I would be taking a break after this mammoth tour, so we bid each other adieu for the time being and I settled back to life in Sydney.

In May I auditioned for a musical and my lifelong love of The Beatles was about to pay off (see the next chapter), but in the meantime I need to fill time and earn some money. Whenever I came back to Sydney, it would take a while for musical bookings to come my way, so I decided to sign-up with an agency to work as an extra in films and television. These were short-notice/no pressure jobs that suited my circumstances perfectly, occurring in between occasional band gigs. My age and build made me a good fit for any military or police officer roles.

First up was Vietnam a TV mini-series in which I drove a seventies police car, chasing a 19 year old Nicole Kidman! Two days later I was a Second Lieutenant in the TV series Army Wives, and then a detective in the SBS special Witch Hunt, based on a real-life Greek Social Security Scandal. Next up it was back in the force as a copper trying arrest the character of Craig in Sons and Daughters (episode 849). That show was huge in the UK and my Gran watched it every weekday, but when my episode finally aired over there, she blinked and missed my few seconds on screen.

Musically, I went down to near the NSW snowfields to play a weekend at the Peels Inn Hotel in Berridale in a trio with Jim Cooper and Tommy Callaghan (note to self: don’t share a room with bandmates who burn toast and practice Taekwondo at 3 a.m.). The next day I had a call from the management of the Johnny Chester & Hotspur show, asking if I could fly to West Wyalong straight away to join their tour for a week, as their guitarist Martin Hope was suddenly laid up after a car accident (from which he thankfully recovered). I ended up finishing the 3-week run with the show before returning to Sydney (note to self: if the motel door doesn’t have a bolt, barricade it! We got robbed of our petty cash in Cowra).

Shortly after the tour, Hotspur were due in Darwin for the Northern Territory Country Music Jamboree held at the Freds Pass Sport and Recreation Reserve. Following Stan Coster, Chad Morgan, Terry Gordon and some local artists, Hotspur were to play for Anne Kirkpatrick at 9pm and then ‘rage’ from midnight to 2 a.m., so the boys flew in from Melbourne and I flew with Anne from Sydney.

We got there relatively early in the day, so Anne and I took a stroll around the local area. It was there that I snapped this shot, one of my favourite photos – if you didn’t already know, Anne is the daughter of the legendary Slim Dusty. After a successful night, we flew home the next day, much to the surprise of some of the cabin crew who weren’t used to having passengers who made such a quick turnaround, just as they did.

Having just had a reunion with Johnny Chester & Hotspur, I was delighted when Donna Fisk came to Wollongong as part of a Johnny Tillotson tour. I couldn’t resist driving down to play guitar with Donna and hang around to hear Johnny sing Poetry in Motion. There was also a rare chance to play guitar for New Zealand country star Suzanne Prentice at Ingleburn RSL Club. 

Back in Sydney, the wonderful world of the theatre was waiting for me ‘dahlings’…

 

←Previous: 1981-84 (The Melbourne Years) Johnny Chester & Hotspur, Donna Fisk & Hot Diggity… ↑ Memoirs Main Menu ↑  Next: Lennon → The Musical of the Legend Australia 1986-87…