The World turns……

It’s been a few weeks since my last thoughts have been put to print. What with meat pie competitions ( I came 3rd), my prized clarinet that I’ve had for 30 years being stolen and having to walk our greyhound Alfie twice a day (my wife’s in France- she normally does it) I haven’t quite managed to get my arse in gear to make a start. Oh I almost forgot, I caught a nasty bout of lazy bastarditis as well…..

Now, I’m going to indulge myself. So bear with me…….

Last week I had the sad experience of attending an old friends’ funeral. I have known Paul Brook since 1966 – we were in the same class at Bablake School. In 1971 we formed our first band Svart Alfar. I’d got a Watkins Rapier Guitar (strat copy) and an amp my dad made, Dave Burrows bought a bass and used to lean the head against a wardrobe for amplification and by default Paul had to be the drummer. We wrote some classics…..” Gonna pack my bags and go rock climbing with you……”
After mercilessly taking the piss out of Daves ineptitude he left and we got Mick Hartley in on Bass and John Rushton on lead guitar. We became Rampant and shortly after that Analog. I remember we had this 40 minute suite based on Faust…..very prog rock, very 1973….

Paul and I remained great friends throughout the 70’s even when I’d left to join Ens on clarinet and he played with Percy Sledge and the Marvelettes on European tours.
By this time his drumming abilities had rocketed and he was much in demand as a session player. There were a few local musicians at that time that I could sit and watch and be totally knocked out by their superb musicianship and ability, Paul was one of those. Paul also had a great sense of humour and was a brilliant artist (he designed the cover for the stereotypes 1st single The Lull).

During this period of the mid to late 70’s I’d spend many an hour at his parents house, eating, sleeping, and talking music and bullshit through the night. I even spent Christmas with the family in 1976. His dad Bas and mum Dorothy were wonderful people and made me feel completely at home. One of Pauls’ foibles was his seeming disregard for his parents ( or anyone else for that matter!) when his head was somewhere else – usually in music.

Many a time we’d go back late and Paul would be in the kitchen crashing around making omelettes for everyone with King Crimson or Billy Cobham on full blast on the hi fi with his parents and two younger brothers trying to sleep.

I remember a time when his mum gave him £10 ( a considerable sum) to get some new shoes….
“ Now Paul, don’t get pumps, buy some decent quality shoes”
With that instruction ringing in his head he went into town bought a Weather Report album, a chocolate cake for his mum(to placate her) and some pumps…

When I got my first house in Melbourne Rd., I’d got a little 4-track studio in the back room and several times a week there’d be a knock at the door at about half eight. On opening, there would be Paul with his bag full of manuscript paper. He’d come in, fag ash hanging, walking a trail of dogshit through the house from his shoe and tell me he’d written a concerto for clarinet and could I play it NOW.
He was so focused he just could not understand my annoyance at the stinking trail he’d tramped in.
“Sorry. Anyway, it’s in A minor”

In 1979 Paul played drums on the stereotypes She Has Changed / Ben Shirtman and it was from this that the band got a major deal with WEA Records.

In 1982 Paul was best man at my 1st wedding (or was it my 4th?) . At about this time he was playing with a jazz rock band Pzazz, touring with level 42.
Apart from his drumming he had the uncanny ability to write music scores onto paper from his head without the aid of any instrument – a true talent. I understand he was still writing just before he passed away.

In 1984 he joined one of my all time favourite local bands Mummy Calls and co wrote Beauty Has Her Way which appeared in the cult film The Lost Boys.

In the late 80’s he played and recorded with my band The Giraffes on what was probably our best stuff.

From the early 90’s we started to lose touch and I didn’t see him till after his treatment for cancer in about 95. The last time I saw Paul was in Millsys about a year ago and he seemed fine, just the same, except no dog shit on his shoe.

There must have been 250 people at his funeral which is a testament to an enormously talented and loved man. I remember the good times Paul……….

Love Steve