>>And It Came To
Pass...
What could possibly go wrong? Only a bust-up with the brewery in
1980, which put the future of the Soundhouse in severe doubt. The
row became as bitter as the Wagon's infamous ale, with Landlord
Malcolm Tate and Neal Kay locked in a war of words that spread to
the press. A rival heavy metal disco convinced the clubs owners that
they were better known and could increase attendances (which they
failed to do), and Neal was made "redundant". Despite a spirited
protest outside and inside the club (witness: a young David
Cassidy... sorry Gerry Kelly holding a placard), the Wagon was no
more and the Soundhouse was left without a roof over its head. The
Bandwagon itself closed its doors for the last time less than a year
later.
The Punks at the time had the Roxy...in more recent times the Indie
shoe gazers had the Hacienda, The Bandwagon was just as innovative
and as important as these venues. And in the history of metal, The
Bandwagon and Soundhouse roadshow's impact should never be
underestimated: not just for the direct effect Neal Kay and the
Soundhouse followers had on the British metal scene at the time, but
the knock-on effect for the international metal scene. How would
British rock fans have heard the likes of Van Halen, ACDC, Rush etc
without the heavy rock disco - which effectively started at the
Bandwagon.
>>Back In
Black...
It may have been a decrepit ballroom covered in flock wallpaper
tacked on to the side of an equally decrepit pub opposite North
Harrow tube station, but it was, ahem, home.
The Headstone pub agreed to take Neal on for Friday and Sunday night
slots, leaving him free to spread the word in East London venues -
The Royal Standard, Walthamstow, and Oscars in Leyton and East Ham's
The Ruskin Arms - during the rest of the week. Attracting a fresh
intake of 16-year-old "nuggets" (© Sounds writer Chris Collingwood)
with bum-fluff moustaches, trying to get past doorman Ray Dellaselle,
the Soundhouse thrived in its new environment.
A new generation were also now being introduced to the Soundhouse,
hearing about The Bandwagon only as legend. And what a cast of
nutters it attracted: the god-bothering punter - known only as The
Vicar - who once stripped off and marched, stark bollock-naked,
around the club to the sounds of Black Widow's Come To The Sabbath;
and the welcome return of Bandwagon regular The Whale, whose party
piece involved rolling around on the floor, air-guitaring furiously
to Ted Nugent's Motorcity Madhouse.
While the national press's interest may have waned, Neal still had a
knack for attracting publicity, with the just-launched Kerrang!
Magazine running an article on his plans to lecture about rock music
in London schools and colleges. The scheme never came to fruition,
but Neal always found time to help out a passing schoolgirl.
>>Top tunes of the day: Status Quo - Hold You Back, Asia - Heat
Of The Moment, AC/DC - Whole Lotta Rosie (a new generation incur
degenerative spinal injuries hoisting their fattest mate onto their
shoulders) plus Rush's interminable 2112, during which you could
take a piss, order a pint, smoke a joint and still find there was
another 10 minutes to go.
>>Fashion accessories of the day: for the blokes - denim,
leather and band T-shirts from Wembley Market; for the girls -
denim, leather and, ahem, band T-shirts from Wembley Market.
Sadly, the fun couldn't last and with the Headstone pub going to
rack and ruin, property developers move in and by summer 1982, the
Soundhouse was out on it's ear. Again! |
>>One Night In A Club
Called 'The Shaking Hand'...
(Ok, the 'Clay') What the hell! As one out-of-the-way West London
boozer closes its doors, another two open. Without missing a beat,
Neal moved his operation to The Clay Pigeon, Eastcote, on a Friday
night, and The Queens Arms in Harrow & Wealdstone on Sundays.
"The Clay" was
effectively in the middle of nowhere (the 282 bus route had never
seen so many hairy-arsed bastards filling its decks). But the hall,
more used to hosting Sunday lunchtime jazz bands, was very roomy,
hampered only by a bar the size of a postage stamp, though equipped
with a newfangled European lager, Lowenbrau, responsible for
widespread brain damage among the male clientele.
By the mid-'80s, big-haired American rockers, Bon Jovi, Ratt and Y&T
(whose Midnight In Tokyo was played every week for - Sweet Jesus! -
at least eight years) were sharing space with old favourites in the
setlist. This gave rise to a new mating ritual: while lads stood
around in cap-sleeved T-shirts and white baseball boots (out of
their minds on Lowenbrau); row after row of skin-tight denim and
black legging-clad female arses would be on display, grinding in
unison to Journey's Separate Ways. Lovely. And thanks partly to
Neal's new DJing partner-in-crime, Adrian "Adey" Gibbs, the
Soundhouse still went from strength to strength.
While Saturdays found Neal firmly ensconced at The Royal Standard,
Walthamstow, Sunday nights at "The Queens" brought the weekends to a
suitably boozy close. A tiny broom cupboard-sized room tacked onto
the back of a popular Irish watering hole, what "The Queens" lacked
in size, it made up for in its "unique" ambience and, like "The
Clay", a car park that bore witness to umpteen clandestine acts of
sexual depravity. No Sunday evening was complete without a
hair-of-the-dog livener, a detailed discussion about what had gone
on the night before (and with whom), the beginnings of a nice
hangover to start the week - and yet another hundred airings for
Y&T's friggin' Midnight In Tokyo. The Soundhouse's Clay and Queens
years ran on into the '90s, but even the best things come to an end.
Neal and the Queens Arms parted company earlier, but The Clay Pigeon
hosted the final night of the Soundhouse in 1992.
>>It was the end of an era...
Times they were 'a' changin'...especially
in music, where the likes of Nirvana were shaking things up on the
Rock scene, Neal went to Japan and Portugal producing bands and
enjoying a semi-retirement lifestyle. Also, a full seventeen years
had elapsed since the birth of the Soundhouse and many people who
were then young teenagers - brought together through their love of
Rock Music - were now in their 30's and starting families of their
own. Although it was real fun along the way, through the Births and
deaths, marriages and divorces that we all went through, the
Soundhouse years had an enormous effect on the way our lives were
shaped.
Still, proving that you can't keep a bunch of rock
fans-that-refuse-to-grow up, er, down, and a chance meeting between
Gerry Kelly and Neal Kay some 10 years after the Soundhouse ended,
December 8 2001 bore witness to the first Soundhouse reunion, at yet
another trusty North West London boozer - The Rayners Hotel.
Further gatherings of the - older, greyer, balder, fatter, still
lovely - clans are scheduled to take place annually each December.
So plug in the air guitar, squeeze into those faded denims, check
the receding hairline and prepare to rock...again.
Gerry
Kelly/Mark Blake.
 |
