I've got your CD. It IS quite good actually. Is that your hi-fi equipment on the inner sleeve?

'By-Tor and the Snow Dog' isn't it?! How far we travel...

Our own stuff but we just do it for kicks. Last year we made an album at Toerag and released it on our own label. No war stories as such but a few months ago we supported Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes and Mr Southside came in to our dressing rooms afterwards to shake all our hands. What a gent. Back in the eighties, when I was a nipper, I was in a band who had a publishing deal with Chrysalis and whilst on tour to promote our single we played the Princess Charlotte in Leicester in front of absolutely no-one. We still did a full set though. Plus the 'new one' as an encore. I'd love to say 'maybe you were there'. But I know you weren't.

Still in a band too, electro punk outfit called Fuzzgun Sniper.
We released a mini album last year and held a launch night at a local pub. It went surprisingly well and we sold a FEW CDS.
Although we have a SMALL local following, the only way we could draw in a big audience was to bring our own buffet for the punters. (Which at least guaranteed thay would hang around for a few songs while they stuffed their faces with pasties and sarnies).
We repeated the same process just before Christmas and had a Christmas buffet and Christmas Reggae and Dub tracks inbetween sets. It went quite well, apart from one drunk punter who couldn't understand why he was eating ham and jam sandwiches. They were infact turkey and cranberry sauce sarnies, prepared by yours truly before the gig. You just can't please everyone. We're doing a Easter gig, so no doubt the buffet will have to be rolled out again to draw in the crowds. Hot Cross Bun anyone?

I think we want to see pictures!

you don't David. Really.

Used to be in a folk-rock band called "Tintagel" back in Uni days. Weekend warrior thing... played at pubs, folk clubs and festivals like Greenbelt and stuff. Recorded a couple of tapes of pretty cheesy tunes. Claim to fame... had a residency at a local music and comedy club which meant we ended up opening for the likes of the yet to be famous Eddie Izzard, Bill Bailey (in his "The Rubber Bishops" days), the late lamented Linda Smith and Mark Steele. For a larff I set up a MySpace page a couple of years ago as a way of bunging some of our tunes up on the web - http://www.myspace.com/tintagel

Good grief, was I EVER that young?

Now I play (again at weekends mostly) in a pub/function/covers band - a much maligned pass-time for those musos woried about their musical integrity, man. But, hey, we play fun music that we happen to like from the 50s through to the present day at parties, weddings and the like entertaining people who are out to get drunk and have a good time. That can't be so bad.

Then; The World Service
http://www.james.partridge.com/thismuchfile/images/stagebig.jpg
(hosted by my good chum James) We won 'best song' at the Suffolk Rock and Pop competition in about 1987, which clearly went to our heads (as it would) and then spent all our money on three nights' downtime at Spaceward Studio in Cambridge (We got the name off the back of a Robyn Hitchcock LP and it was close enough to our budget to mke the cut) and got our demo produced by one Owen Dylan Morris - it was his first production job, long before he got his hands on Oasis. On long winter nights the ex-singer and I still get together and chuckle about how he professed to "hate doing fucking guitar overdubs". We once spent a day in a studio recording instrumental versions of our songs for possible inclusion on a video about kayaking to the North Pole, during which the studio owner locked us out while he took a lunch hour round at his Mum's.

Now; Songs from The Blue House
http://www.songsfromthebluehouse.com/shanehbcb.JPG
That shirt is a gift from a grateful record industry, it's a promo for "I Don't Want Your Love". Anyone remember that one? Anyone....?

http://www.myspace.com/songsfromthebluehouse

Many years ago I was getting a lift back from a club with my mate Mark and his driving friend (they played in a local band together called Headworx). I was drunkenly singing along to a tape in the car when the driver asked me on the spot did I want to be the singer in their band as the current singer had left? I drunk as I was jumped at the chance. What I didn't realise that the next gig was the next day....Oh dear. After one swift introduction to the band and rehearsal a set was devised thus - if I knew the song I'd sing it.

When we got to the venue the crowd seemed a lot larger than i'd anticipated and amazingly had paid five pounds for a ticket (this was the early nineties). I conquered my nerves by drinking copious amounts of lager and nipping to the offie to get a bottle of red wine for the stage.

The gig started quite well I thought, the crowd clapped with appreciation but with every song and every slurp of wine my performance became more erratic. This culminated in a vocal performance of Sweet Child O Mine in the vein of the Bee Gees. It seemed such a good idea at the time....heavy metal song sung in falcetto. It wasn't a good idea, it was a carcrash on stage.

When the song finished the crowd stood and stared and my girlfriend (of the time) walked through the crowd up to the stage held out her hand and led me off the stage through the crowd into her car and away from the venue as quickly as possible.

Needless to say that was my one and only gig with the mighty Headworx. Next time I saw them they had a singing drummer. Thus ended my brief musical career.

1. Egg. Prog-rock band based in a bedroom in Kingsthorpe, Northampton. Progress hindered by the fact we a) didn't own any instruments and b) couldn't play them if we did. We did, however, talk a mean twin-neck guitar solo.

2. Scripted Fate. One rehearsal. Managed the first few bars of Tom Sawyer by Rush several times before realising we didn't like each other enough to make a go of it. I sang a full octave lower than Geddy Lee.

3. Phantom Engineer. A band formed by David Keenan of the Telstar Ponies. Heavily influenced by krautrock and avant-noise, I can be heard hitting a seven-iron into a sheet of corrugated metal on the band's only album.

Live, my role was to rattle metal chains around in a wok while randomly turning the dials on some kind of frequency-modulation machine. The Wire reviewed one show and described me as "obviously having no idea" what I was doing. They were right.

Shortly after, the band relocated to Scotland (I stayed behind) before eventually breaking up.

4. Bobby Gillespie's Hair. Formed in 1989 and still going strong, 'The Bonce' are a covers band whose repertoire includes songs as diverse as Deep Purple's Child in Time, a medley of Radiohead's Karma Police and Culture Club's Karma Chameleon, and Dr Dre's Forget About Dre, all performed in our traditional shambolic, under-rehearsed, often drunken style. Our debut gig was support at Swervedriver's first ever London show, and since then we've managed a steady two performances every three years.

Career highlight? After playing a wedding attended by Scottish post-rock outfit Mogwai, we were invited to perform at the All Tomorrow's Parties event they were curating at a Butlins Camp in Camber Sands. The review in the Independent (linked above) proclaimed over superiority over headliners Sonic Youth, despite the fact that we'd been drinking for 14 hours before going onstage.

That's me on the right. The hair (now gone) is real, the mustache not. We're playing again in April.

Back in the punk rock day I joined the Webb brothers and a bloke called Martin to form the horribly named Street Credibility. They were great players, Spider the guitarist was especially good, but reigned in his fret scorching because we were a punk band. They were a step up from Chicken Shed, the band that I first played bass in - none of us could play, we rehearsed in a chicken shed down Dazs dads garden, hence the name.
We changed our name to The Golden Boys and then split.

I got the gig in Street Cred after I stood in for Lakeside Sheds singer, and sang the words (unknowingly) to Honky Tonk Women to the tune of Brown Sugar - proof positive of my punkdom.
We racked up 13 gigs in the Scunthorpe area, gaining quite a following, our 100 Club moment came on New Years Eve 1978 at the Cocked Hat supporting Gravefinder, a rock band from Scawby. It very nearly ended in tears when the 'finders tried to rob Spider from under our noses. He was in two minds about joining up, but turned them down after the smoke bombs they let off at the start of their set emptied the building.
A recording of the gig can be found on the poorly recorded 'Street Cred at Cocked Hat - Live!' cassette tape belonging to a lad called Fully. We got two encores, one of which we milked by going out of the firedoor at the back of the stage and then running round and joining the audience - on the tape you can hear some one shout 'They're here!' We then burst back on stage to play Roadrunner.

We split after playing Andrea Bennets 18th at Messingham Village Hall. Mainly down to a spectacularly misjudged diatribe from me where I called everyone in the audience. I saved most of my venom for the gang of Garelli Tiger riding bootboys who were at the front flagging V's at us. Andreas dad gave us 20 minutes to piss off or he'd set the bikers on us (well, me).
Not only did the band split, but my girlfriend packed me as I'd ruined her best friends 18th.
I later met up with Spider after we moved to London to form an experimental guitar/vocal duo which was short lived due to the fact that he emigrated to Australia.
There's no use dwelling on what could've been, but contenders we most definitely weren't.

Hoe does one put pictures up on threads? It is one of lifes mysteries. Can someone guide me please.

Edinburgh. The early 1990s. The band shall remain nameless but we did two gigs. I was too nervous at the first to remember anything but the second was in a popular dive in the Cowgate called The Subway.

Unbeknownst to me - the vocalist (no, not never, a singer) - I was becoming a right pain in the backside and so the rest of the band got their revenge by saying it would be a great idea to cover INXS's 'Guns in the Sky' and 'Need You Tonight' as a medley. If my memory serves me, I didn't need much convincing as, despite my spectacles and dreadful clothes, I thought I was great.

Our amps were small, our skills even smaller but off we went. About half-way through the medley from hell, a scary guy covered in leather, tattoos and piercings appeared about six inches from my nose. All the bands' friends - who up until now had been supportively trying to dance to our ramshackle barkings - disappeared. Scary guy then proceeded to shout, 'Make More Noise!' in my face, over and over and over. Once the medley from hell came to a close - and I'd wiped his phlegm from my glasses - I politely explained that we couldn't make any more noise as our equipment was not up to it. Natch.

That said, we ended with the fairly triumphant second medley of the night: my best pal Pete's sure-fire number one single 'She's Not Mine' segueing into Kylie's 'What Do I Have To Do.'

We were ugly, but we had the noise. Not much, but enough. And I made up the bit about wiping phlegm from my glasses.

We want pictures!

In 1992 I joined Seaweed Waltz on backing vocals. Based in the Calder Valley, this band had undergone a number of line-up changes. At one point, instead of a bass guitar there had been a cello.

At the time I joined, the line-up was:

Mick West on Guitar, a keyboard if there was one around, then he bought a violin and learnt that, and he wrote all the music for the songs.

Mandy Lomas on vocals and lyric writing duties.

Steve Marsden on guitar, mandolin, mandola, lap steel, recording archivist.

Our drummer left shortly after so we coralled in Roger from fellow local band Alias Alice, and bassist Jo King also joined at the same time.

The music? Ah, the music was electric folk-ish. We had a few traditional instruments but electrified. All bar a couple of songs were original material. Every song had 2 names - the title of the music written by Mick and the song title after Mandy had added the lyrics.

We played a handful of gigs, some more successful than others. Not in order (because I can't remember after so long)

First off was The Queen's in Todmorden - fun, not too empty, one of our friends described my microphone technique as "treating it like it had a nasty social disease". I was quite shy! My solo vocal was for our cover of I Put A Spell on You.

Treadwell's art mill in Bradford. I think we were second on the bill. The room was painted quite dark colours, and floor was beyond sticky underfoot. We played our set and managed to blow the PA before the headliners came on!

There were also 2 'memorable' gigs in Leeds, we played to the support and their girlfriends, for the princely sum of £30. That was between 6 of us, not each, oh no. It wasn't lucrative work by any means.

Then The Haddon Hall in Leeds. We had to pay for the room, but were to keep the door money. My sister cam along to do the door. She took £6 (I think, it could have been £4) from the only 2 people who came in. At the end of the night we were about to do a bunk, but the bar staff never asked for the room hire which was a huge relief.

Then a triumphant night at The Puzzle Hall in Sowerby Bridge, that was a great night, the pub was packed out, the audience were appreciative, I sang despite not actually being able to speak due to a throat infection.

And most successful of all was our hometown date at Hebden Bridge Trades Club. This is a big room, and has hosted many notable bands I've seen Marc Riley and The Creepers there! But again, on home ground we had a grand time, and departed the stage to cheers and shouts for more.

And that was sort of it. We didn't play any other gigs, the band folded and we all went our separate ways. Some of them are still faces around Hebden, I've moved a very long way away, and have lost touch with my band mates, but for those few months - it was great fun.

Someone, somewhere has it all on tape - Mick and Steve each taped every gig, every rehearsal and every jam we ever did. Mick had always done this and had/has masses of tapes of virtually every note he'd ever played!

We earnt no money from it, we didn't cut a disc or get a Peel session, and I can't find anything on Google, but I enjoyed it...

A couple of years later I was in a scratch band with 3 chaps as we made up the numbers for a Battle of The bands day at our local pub. Did Whisky in the Jar and The Wild Rover. There is video evidence of this somewhere, complete with ashtray falling off table as we stamped appropriately during Wild Rover.

Now my musical life is very limited, I occasionally write songs with a friend - he send me a cd of music and I do the Bernie and write the lyrics, or else I say something silly and he turns it into a song.

http://www.myspace.com/strewelpeterson

Anyone in Norwich want a singer????????

I was in a band called Nkisi, a pop rock band with dance beats (right on the cutting edge, see) from 1999-2000. We played six or seven gigs in London, Newport and Birmingham.

Highlights include:
1) Playing in Newport at TJs with a lighting rig held up by one of those big toilet rolls you get in public lavs

2) Our guitarist kicking an audience member in the head in Birmingham

3) A man with his face painted green trying to start a fight on us for looking at him

4) Me smashing my guitar on stage and then round the bassist's head after having been fired up on rum, at the bull & gate on a Monday night

5) Our beautiful lady singer having 'relations' with an Arab prince to get the money to buy me a new guitar

That's not even the half of it. It was an action packed six months. We also managed to produce some truly awful music.

Songs were no problem. Gigs were no problem. The problem was always the band name. Ours came about because when we formed the band at school, we went under the name of The Silly Symfony (yes I know it should be Symphony, but that's 15 year old humour). We played on and off for years and finally, at the age of 30, dipped into our pockets and went into a recording studio for the first time. Happy with our track we decided to buy the enourmous reel to reel tape and the engineer asked the band's name. We had been discussing horror films that weren't frightening so I told him 'The Man With One Head'. It could have been The Man With Two Legs or numerous others. Any good band names out there?

From 'A Hard Day's Night' ( George and the TV producer, remember? 'Oh yes, I'd be quite prepuuurrd for that eventuality....) Amazed no one's used it.

That was us. The Guild of Thieves. The comment was made about a band that a few of TGOT has been in before - but it looked good on a T-Shirt.

I think our high point was a rejection letter from Factory. So much for Antony H saying yes to everyone.

We recorded a few demos, played a few gigs and thought that we were the best unsigned band ever. And actually, I don't think we were that bad.

We did actually have the archetypal gig moment, however. A pub in Nottingham called the Narrowboat (I think). We turned up, found out that the room was on the 1st floor, so we had to lump our gear up the rusting Fire Escape outside. We were a bit puzzled that there was no mention of live music or anything in the pub. Anyway, we set up, got the beers in, did a couple of warm up songs and waited for the crowds to arrive. And waited.

And waited.

Eventually we heard footsteps on the stairs. Diving back to our instruments, we prepared to launch into a rousing tune as soon as whoever it was came in. But we were stunned into silence as (and this is no word of a lie) an old chap in a brown mac wandered in with a jack russell on a lead. We'd attracted the mythical one man and his dog. So stunned were we, that we just stared. So did he. And the jack russell.

After a minute or two, he just turned round and left.

Obviously it was all downhill after that.

Anyway, if you're interested...

http://www.thesixtyone.com/#/GoT/

http://www.myspace.com/theguildofthieves

We were called Western Dream. I know, I know. A later band went on to support Mansun at Glasgow Barrowland, which was a hoot, but Western Dream was much funnier. For all the wrong reasons.

It's far too long to post here but may I humbly submit a blog link?

http://www.bigmouthstrikesagain.com/archives/543

"[We] were rubbish - even worse than the name suggests - but of course we didn't believe that at the time. We were mighty warriors of rock, snake-hipped sex monsters with zero self-awareness, precious little playing ability, lots of spots and a singer called Kevin (he's not called that now, so I don't feel bad naming him). Kevin was a lyrical genius whose take on Margaret Thatcher, if played on the radio, would have changed British society overnight:

She's cold as ice
She's as welcome as lice"

A pimply 16 year old in 1984, I joined a school mate and some older guys in a band called "Lycanthrope". Can you guess what style of music we played? Well done at the back, Metal of course... which in this case meant meandering 10 minute versions of "Silver Machine", assorted 12-Bar blues "jams", plus our piece-de-resistance original song "Black Forest", complete with moody intro by me on (Casio) keyboard. After a whirlwind summer holiday of practices, parties and drinking, the band "split up"... only to mysteriously reform after 2 weeks with the original lineup, minus me, who had been replaced by the drummer's girlfriend.

On to guitar noodling with my best mate Jim, where we formed the seminal "Sweet Oblivion" (this is prior to the Screaming Trees album of the same name, we were ahead of our time). Bass/vocals, guitar and drum machine. We were like a more metal version of the Sisters of Mercy, and latterly, Dinosaur Jr. We recorded 4 demos over a 7 year period, two of which were favourably reviewed in the "Demo Corner" column of "International Musician and Recording World"... unfortunately the track they liked the best was our equivalent of the "hidden" CD tack, a Slayer parody called "Death Grunt".

Did a couple of gigs but nothing regular - our first gig proper was headlining a Halloween all-nighter at Napier College Sighthill Union in Edinburgh, the same venue where AC/DC made their Scottish (possibly British?) live debut, fact fans! Marred only by the DJ putting records on towards the end of our set because he thought we were "shite". Jim moved away after university to work down south and things gradually petered out after that.

On to my current effort "Frank and the Twins" - Rock/Pop covers, gigging in pubs/clubs, parties, weddings, funerals, bar-mitzvahs... you get the picture. Probably the most fun I've ever had with my clothes on, still going strong after 10 years of gigs.

For a far funnier, far better written account of "this sort of thing" I can enthusiastically recommend Giles Smith's "Lost in Music";

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Lost-Music-Giles-Smith/dp/0330339176/ref=sr_1_1?...

Cheers

Keith

My first ever 'band' was called Mayhem, formed in about 1990 I think, which consisted of me and my mate on screaming duties, one of those rubbish Yamaha electronic drum pad things and a keyboard running through a distortion pedal. As you can imagine, we sounded great.

Then during the grunge years we formed a band called Kelp - I took up the bass and we got a friend to buy a drum kit and join because he 'looked like a drummer'. After a really good couple of years playing gigs at village halls and the school rock concert (where we had to hastily alter the lyrics to our opener 'F**k Me Senseless' in order to avoid detention), the band split in a flurry of teenage angst and cider-fuelled tantrums.

After that it was The Mo7's - we actually recorded a proper demo and were getting a small amount of interest from a label before our total disorganisation (one gig was cancelled because we phoned the singer to get a lift there on the night and he was in Japan) led to a pissed off drummer and a parting of the ways.

A couple more bands followed (Dave's Rumour Circus, Voodoo Mage and the Little Wizards of Doom) which despite having cracking names were short lived for some reason...

Then there was the logistical nightmare of a funk band - 9 people, none of whom could ever make it to practice on the same day as any of the others. Didn't last long.

Next I went a bit electronic and started recording with a female vocalist friend of mine, and we made a couple of CD's which I think might still be up for sale on PeopleSound. We sold two copies - to ourselves...

Finally, a couple of years ago I ended up in a band called Les Fantasticos with four friends, and I'm still loving it. Gigging fairly regularly, mainly in pubs (and one small festival last year) and writing and recording our own songs too.

You never know, we could still get that Wembley gig yet - keep the dream alive :)