Ah feel like AHCID
I first heard Beefheart through Mike – a different Mike to the Harper one. This Mike lived in Kingston and was at university in York in 1967. He was mad keen on Acid Rock and Psychedelic stuff, a frequenter of Middle Earth, UFO and all night gigs. Mike had the longest black hair which he refused to comb or brush in case it split the ends or broke bits off. He’d just run his fingers through it every now and then.
I met Mike when I was working at the bakery. He introduced me to the West Coast sound and played me all the new albums he was busy buying. His favourites were Country Joe and the Fish, Captain Beefheart’s Magic Band, the Doors, Buffalo Springfield and Quicksilver Messenger Service.
I was knocked out. I hadn’t heard anything like it.
Mike would regale me with tales of dropping acid at Middle Earth and watching Pink Floyd’s light show that would take him into space. He’d come out in the morning still tripping and see mounted police as centaurs, trees breathing and sunshine shining like rainbows.
We’d sit and talk excitedly about whether Barry Melton’s guitar sound was as good as Robbie Krieger’s.
Friday night for the 12 hour session through the night at Lyon’s bakery as we strove to get the bread out for the weekend passed a lot better when we could discuss West Coast bands – though it didn’t always go great! I remember one night I was put on loading pallets. You had all these loaves coming along the conveyor belt and you grabbed them in batches of five and shoved them into the shelves on the pallets. When the pallet shelves were full you pushed that one along so it could be picked up by the forklift driver and loaded onto the Lorries for delivery then you pulled up the next empty pallet and loaded that. It was interminable. There was a rhythm to it. It meant you worked steadily on a never-ending line. If you got behind you were in trouble. You couldn’t stop because the loaves would start to pile up. That is what happened. I got distracted. The loaves started to pile up and I couldn’t get them loaded. There was a huge log jam. The loaves buckled up split open and there was a great heap of crushed bread. I got a bollocking! I blamed it on Mike!
Mike reckoned that the Doors were really far out because Morrison looked so wasted on the cover of the first album. Mike wanted everything more extreme, more wasted, further out and hero worshipped everyone who was on the edge. He’d ear-marked Morrison as a heroin user. He analysed the lyrics and took stuff like ‘come back baby, back into my arm’ as a reference to heroin. We loved Country Joe & the Fish’s second album because they looked so weird and wasted. Country Joe looked completely out of it.
But his greatest adulation was reserved for Captain Beefheart. He loved the first album ‘Drop out Boogie’ and played it to me constantly. He thought they were the weirdest and most extreme of all. This was later confirmed by subsequent albums and live shows. Captain Beefheart was weird and wonderful.
I was hooked and my musical horizons were widened considerably. Soon I had amassed a collection of albums including Jefferson Airplane, Captain Beefheart, Love, Doors, Buffalo Springfield, and Country Joe. It was a new sound and a new dimension.
So it was that I got to see the Captain perform.
The Captain was supposed to do this show up in London in May 1968. I had my motorbike so that was OK I could get there. But I knew if I went I wouldn’t get back until 3.00 am. But that was OK. My A Levels were getting underway soon and I ought to do a bit of work. I had a place at uni and I needed some grades. But hey – the A Levels were not for a good week yet.
So I zoomed up to the gig. Unfortunately the bass player (Rockette Morton) was reputedly ill. They had replaced Captain Beefheart with Aynsley Dunbar Blues Band and he was not one of my favourites.
The good news was that the Captain was down to perform the following week. It was going to be a double header with John Mayall.
That was amazing. I was going to get to see my heroes after all and as a bonus I was going to see John Mayall again. Far out!!
The downside was that the next day was my Biology A Level. I needed a C grade to get in at uni. It was probably a good idea to get a bit of revision done. It was probably also a good idea to get at least a little sleep. But what the hell!!
So I went to the gig. I got back at 3.00 am. I took my Biology A Level exam at 9.00 am. I was a little weary. The concert had been the best I had ever seen. I hadn’t got much sleep.
Needless to say I got a D in my Biology and missed out on my university place. I reckon that cost me a good couple of million in lost earnings and even as much as eight million if I’d have made it as a surgeon! Ho hum.
However it was worth it!! I got to see Beefheart at his rampant best, in a small club and he was amazing. It still rates as the best gig I’ve ever been to! I mentioned this to Rockette Morton a short while ago. I told him that he owed me a lot of money. He just smiled.
For some strange reason I only ever got to see Beefheart twice more. For someone who had such a huge effect on my life that is bizarre. I was never organised enough to sort out when they were on.
I got to see them in 1973 at the Rainbow, which was just around the corner from where I was living in Manor House. That rates as one of the giant gigs as well. It’s one of those I remember vividly and my memory is perfect as you will see.
We got there early and sat near the front (where else?) and waited impatiently. I couldn’t sit still and kept looking round at the audience for a sight of familiar faces. I didn’t recognise anyone! But they all looked suitably weird.
Then Rockette Morton, a very thin, wiry Rockette Morton, came on to the stage wearing a space helmet. He plugged in this long coily lead and walked up to the microphone. He flipped the helmet back and said ‘Hi, I’m Rockette Morton – I’m here to do the toast.’ and proceeded to chuckle. Then he took the helmet off and began doing this amazing bass solo while pogoing all over the stage. As he neared the end the rest of the band came on. Ed Marimba had a pair of panties on his head. Zoot Horn Rollo plugged in his guitar and looked amazing, long thin and wiry with long fair hair dangling. The band launched into a brilliant instrumental which was, I think, Hair Pie. The guitars seemed to weave in and out of each other, complimenting each other’s riffs, with one taking over and finishing the other’s riff. Zoot and Antennae Jimmy Semens and Alex Snouffer St Claire were awesomely brilliant.
Then this great voice boomed in over the top and the Captain impossibly launched in over the top with Electricity. Then the Captain strode in from the wings and the place exploded.
It was the most amazing concert ever! The long note on ‘Big eyed Beans from Venus’ was exquisite.
Opher & Rockette Morton 2013
Of course, it seemingly was not quite like that. To start with I was talking to my idol Rockette Morton who informed me that the space-helmet (I would swear to seeing a glass visor) was really a large American toaster (hence the ‘I’m here to do the toast’ gag) strapped to his head. Then I got a bootleg of the gig and the Captain did not come in from the wings with ‘Electricity’. Seemingly he started with ‘Mirror man’. Now as I would have put my house on the accuracy of my memory on these events (as that gig was scorched into my cerebral hemispheres) this means one of two things: either my memory is slightly incorrect; or someone has actually altered reality. Now it is possible that various substances may have altered my perception but I am going for the alteration of reality. But why would someone want to do that?
OK – I can cope with Don singing ‘Mirror’ over the top. It can be quite similar. Whatever! The gig was still majestically brilliant!
The last time I saw him was in 1974 with the ‘Tragic Band’. What a contrast! If the 1973 band was the apotheosis this 74 band was the nadir. I’d built it up to all my friends and a number came along on my recommendation. Seemingly the band had quit en masse due to a variety of reasons (one apparently being that they weren’t getting paid – you’d think that they’d want to play in the best band in the world for nothing! – and they say that they had – right up to then!). The Captain had put together a back of competent musicians and had to rehearse at short notice. Obviously a short rehearsal was not sufficient and competent was not an adequate replacement for extraordinary. The tragic band was competent and not magic. Despite the Captain being in good voice the gig was severely lacking. I was embarrassed. My friends liked it though. They hadn’t seen the real thing!
It was a sad way to go out. I never got to see the 1979 tour – I was in the States.
But the discovery of Beefheart continues apace. I had the rich seam of albums to devour plus a few bootlegs. Then there was the wonderful ‘Doc at the Radar’ blog which gave me great insights. Then the world of MP3s and peer to peer came into being and I was able to get hold of loads of live stuff. Then they started releasing live concerts on CD and I got them crystal clear! Superb! I never tire.
A strange thing happened in the 1990s. I was surprised to hear that my bank manager wanted to see me. He was after doing a home visit. This was probably not a good thing. I surmised that he was going to bring up my debts!
Sure enough, after he’d settled down at the kitchen table, he brought out all his data and started pointing out the size of my increasing overdraft. He tactfully pointed out that my outgoings exceeded my income.
I agreed that this did appear to be the case.
He wondered how this might be rectified.
I did not know.
He inquired what I might be able to do that might increase my income.
I pointed out that being a teacher I did not get any overtime no matter how many extra hours I put in.
He nodded sagely.
I told him that I had done some adult education classes in the past.
His ears pricked up – how much did I get paid for them?
I explained that I’d run these ‘History of Rock Music’ classes. They had paid well but I had lost money.
History of Rock Music? He was interested! How had I lost money?
I explained that it had meant the purchase of an extra three thousand vinyl albums to bolster the gaps in my collection. It had been great but I’d ended up with a great collection and a worse financial situation.
By this time the finances seemed to have gone to one side. He wanted to know what I had covered in my course. I explained that I’d done everything from Son House to Captain Beefheart and beyond.
His eyes lit up! Captain Beefheart – I’d said the magic word.
My bank manager was a Captain Beefheart nut. The rest of the evening was spent looking at my collection, playing tracks and reminiscing!
We subsequently went to a few Nick Harper gigs and exchanged a few albums. A cool bank manager! Magic Band performing in Leeds 2011