OK it’s time to own up, writing about bygone days makes me pick up books written from that period…..and fortunately I have a nice collection of freebies I managed to blag from friends who also happen to be authors! I know it’s the wrong way round, I should really brush up on the facts before I put finger to keypad but that would be a little too sensible and not fitting of my chaotic nature. In the previous blog I said no one remembered Joy Division playing the Stiff Chiswick Challenge at Rafters in April 1978….well neither did the band as they happened to still be called Warsaw then and hadn’t evolved in to Joy Division.
The other inaccuracy was that Rob Gretton hadn’t just gone along and met the band that night and then ended up managing them later, he already was their manager. He was also DJing at Rafters that night and that was where he met Tony Wilson for the very first time…..a strange encounter really because Rob was stood in the background listening to his lead singer call Tony a very rude word, repeatedly! I was embarrassed for Tony whilst Rob and Tony thought it was hilarious and celebrated the insults with a few beers. Whether it is praise or abuse Tony is fine with it, as long as it’s loud…..so says the book 24 Hour Party People.
So there you have it, tell a story, get it wrong, correct yourself and then try and remember what it was you were planning to blog about originally…..and by the way, I’m sorry. Now I’ll have to go back and tell Dave Robinson who ran Stiff I’m sorry for pissing myself laughing when he said he didn’t remember Joy Division playing that night. He saw Warsaw, we saw Warsaw and no one saw Joy Division….end result no one missed Joy Division. Weren’t we so lucky we didn’t have to live that down after all? Anyway what I am sure is that it was it at Rafters and that I am, and was back then, Tony Michaelides.
I must confess though that I’m about to plan a chart with some bullet points, mainly where the hell I was and when. I honestly thought I’d get a lot better at remembering these monumental events from the past but I am actually getting worse. However, I am blessed with friends with livelier brain cells and all of them still intact! In my defense, I’m trying to cast my mind back over the last 35 years and a few things that happened in between. The chart will help I’m sure, that and a shit load of people!!!
I’ve decided now that I want to map out where I was and what I was doing when I heard certain records, pivotal ones in my life, ones that became important to me. I’ll start a trend,’Where were you when you first heard Astral Weeks, Pet Sounds,Piper at the Gates of Dawn, St. Winifred’s School Choir…’ It’s a little different to where you were when Kennedy was assassinated or when John Lennon was shot, or where you were when you heard about 911.
That should be a lot of fun and apart from that you’ll have no way of knowing if I’m talking bollocks or not! Led Zeppelin’s first album should be a good starting point.
Filed under: About Tony Michaelides, Journey Through The Past , tony michaelides, Joy Division, tony wilson, Rob Gretton, Warsaw, 24 Hour Party People
hi tone
i remember where i was when i first heard ‘Capstick Comes Home’; pissing myself laughing and worrying that i would crash my new jaguar it was so funny. i had to actually pull into a lay-by until it was over.
here’s another tale where i admit to liking a record that won’t score me an awful lot of bronie points with the ‘we mean it man’ brigade!
What a Long Strange Trip it’s Been
8
My Name is Prince
Although I’d heard Finbar and Eddie Furay many times on the John Peel show ‘Top Gear’ the best programme ever on Radio 1 in my opinion, I had never thought of using them on TV. To be honest I wasn’t even sure that they were still around until I got a copy of ‘When You Were Sweet Sixteen’ by The Furays with Davey Arthur, from publicist Michael McDonagh, who lived a stone’s throw from my girlfriend’s place in Bush Hill Park.
I am going to completely blow my streetcred by admitting that I loved it on first hearing. I have Irish blood in me and with that comes an appreciation of the sentimental and a tendency to become maudlin or affectionate or both, when drunk. I was by no means secure as the music major domo at this time, but more of my suggestions were being taken up than before. I played the record to most of the daily producers and mentioned it to the editor at the futures meeting, where we put forward ideas for upcoming programmes, but got no takers, even though there were still several gaps for music over the ensuing few weeks. I continued to harass the producers into using The Furays, as I was convinced this record was going to be a massive hit, but they continued to say no, dismissing it as a load of sentimental Irish claptrap which had no chance of making an impact on the UK chart.
Then came the miracle I needed! I was summoned to Editor Jim Dumighan’s office. I was convinced I was going to be carpeted for something but I wasn’t sure what and was rather apprehensive as Jim had a fearsome reputation. I wasn’t sure he liked me that much anyway, as a result of my attempts to steer the music policy of the programme away from 2nd rate cabaret singers and tacky trad bands. He invited me in and asked me to close the door behind me. I was beckoned to his oversized desk and he began to talk, almost in a whisper. He said his mother had heard the Furay’s record on the radio and absolutely loved it and had asked him if it was going to be on PM@1. Then without of a word of apology for his earlier dismissa, he asked me if I thought I could still get them. I said I would try and immediately got on the phone to McDonagh. By now interest in the record was picking up and their schedule was tightening but we managed to find a mutually acceptable date.
The directors on the show were a pretty unimaginative bunch overall, but there were a couple who didn’t fit into that category. One of those was Tony Wolf whom I liked a lot. Tony was a bit of a giggler and his giggling once got thrown out of a futures meeting. We were doing impressions of Editor JD doing his famous ‘and I’ll tell ya for why’ routine in thick Geordie, when he wasn’t looking and Tony unable to contain himself collapsed in a fit of giggles causing a similar reaction in me. JD was definitely not amused.
Tony was not all mirth and good cheer though and I once heard him, in his deep bass voice, rip shit out of a set designer screaming “When I said I wanted something a bit special I was NOT requesting faggot flats and pink!” Tony later moved to Central TV where he directed the legendary kid’s TV programme Blockbusters starring the equally legendary Bob Holness. I’m not sure he got any more job satisfaction there, but the money was a lot better.
Unfortunately Tony was not directing on the day The Furays came to play. The director of the day had come up with the rather clichéd and risky idea of putting the banjo-playing Finbar in the back of a pony and trap and the rest of the band in the foyer, with the two connected by a radio link. Finbar, a bear of a man, was not at all happy. He said to me that he was concerned that if the kids at his children’s school saw such a thing, they would taunt his sprogs to hell with cries of ‘pikey’ and ‘tinker’ and such. Whilst I understood and sympathised with his position, this is what the director wanted, so I had to talk him into it. He eventually caved in and agreed to take part in the set-up and the whole thing went well in rehearsals.
When we got to showtime things looked a bit more ominous. The pony which had been standing around for hours was getting a bit frisky and was starting to rear. The driver didn’t seem to be having any joy in calming it down and as the ten-second countdown to the show opening cedits began, McDonagh and myself were literally squeezing each other’s hands where we stood at the back of the audience (remember this was a live show!). About ten seconds before the trap was to start its journey down the drive, the pony reared big time. Finbar leaned over and said something in the horse’s ear and all of a sudden it became totally calm, commenced its trot and the whole thing went off without a hitch. The record went to number 2 in the chart and the band later presented me with a silver disc, to commemorate sales in excess of 250,000. I meant to ask him what he had said to the pony but forgot at the time.
Finbar is regarded as one of the greatest uillean pipe players of all-time and has been gifted the coveted title Prince of Pipers. After the record’s success violinist Dave Swarbrick from the group Fairport Convention said to me “Great pipe player like Finbar and what is he famous for? Playing the fucking banjo!”
Finbar and I got on exceptionally well and are still friends, even though it’s a few years since we last met. We were to share several other adventures together, along with his brothers, after the above events but that, as they say, is another story.