Pitch & Putt

JohnnyCeed

The Man from Delmonte were an underappreciated Manchester indie band with a silly name, but in a weird kind of way they saved my life.

It is the summer of '89. I am a shy, awkward, geeky teenager in an unhappy relationship with a girl who looks like Deirdre Barlow, and The Man from Delmonte are playing Middleton Civic Hall as part of an event called the Rochdale Festival.

Up until this point, I'd always regarded "alternative" music with suspicion. It seemed to be the realm of dreary, monochrome cardigan-wearing losers but The Man From Delmonte - an indie band by any definition - are different.

They're colourful and slightly exotic: Lead singer Mike West, an Australian who sometimes writes for the NME, is wearing a bright yellow T-shirt promoting a dance music compilation.

Uplifting singalongs like Drive Drive Drive and sweet, sad songs like Waiting For Ann seem to describe the life I wish that I was living: Student houses, love affairs, the big city - and unlike a lot of indie stuff, the songs aren't afraid of a good melody.

A few miles away, in that big city, the Manchester scene was coming to the boil. The Man From Delmonte's music wasn't part of that scene, but as Mike West's T-shirt showed that night in Middleton, their attitude was.

Their label, Bop Cassettes, also put out a magazine called Bop City. One issue had a free chunk of the Berlin Wall taped to the cover and another came with a tape that included a baggy dance version of Jefferson Airplane's White Rabbit.

Interesting times were just ahead, the music seemed to say, and it was time to break out and embrace a more exciting life. I don't think I ever quite managed it, but I dumped my girlfriend not long after that and things certainly got more interesting from that point on.

I was so impressed and uplifted and energized that I bought a smart-looking Man from Delmonte T-shirt decorated with song lyrics.

"It wasn't until I learned, via the NME, that Mike West was bisexual that I realized the significance of the lyrics: "He rides a motorbike like Steve McQueen in The Great Escape but you would never ride with him, too prim to be a biker's tart, but I would be perfect for the part."

It wasn't until I learned, via the NME, that Mike West was bisexual that I realized the significance of the lyrics: "He rides a motorbike like Steve McQueen in The Great Escape but you would never ride with him, too prim to be a biker's tart, but I would be a T-shirt."

I was stunned and embarrassed - I didn't think gay people played guitar - and I gave the T-shirt to my mum, who might still wear it today. (I was shocked and horrified again a few years later when I learned that Chris Evans was a big Man from Delmonte fan.)

Mike West now plays hillbilly music in New Orleans, and his marriage of seven years, to a woman called Myshkin, recently came to an end.

Life is full of surprises and thank God for that. - Sam Beckwith

(Sam Normally writes for the excellent Stumpymoose.com)

JohnnyCeed

The Hinnies were a great band, unfortunately I seemed to be in a minority in thinking this as they never achieved the fame that they so richly deserved. It was a case of being out of step with their times, a bit too soon.

I first saw 'The Hinnies' playing in Blackpool at an odd place called Sequins, it was odd as it was a typical Blackpool tacky club that for some reason had agreed to have an indie band night on once a week, the only such night in town. 'The Hinnies' were brilliant and helped by the excellent lighting that to a struggling 18 year old would be musician made them look like Gods.

They sounded a bit like The Pixies but with lush Beach Boy's-esque backing and pretty much exactly how I wanted my band to sound. (We didn't). Like the worst kind of groupies that bands get the late teenage boys that want to talk to bands for hours about what guitar pedals they use or what they thought about Sid Barrett, we were them and they ended up having to crash at my mums house as they had rather foolishly set off from London with a lack of forward planning.

We went to the pub the next day my friend, myself and the band and after many drinks Roger, the bands lead singer, guitarist and songwriter asked everyone if they could make their mum cry. I always remembered this as odd.

We would stay in contact with 'The Hinnies' and see them whenever they played anywhere up north. Then next time I saw them was in Preston, they were on The 'Strollercoaster tour' a spoof of the Jesus and Mary Chain's recent tour but this one for not so famous bands. We were sat backstage myself and a couple of mates from my band talking with a couple of 'The Hinnies' when John 'fat bastard' Beast of Carter infamy and tour organiser walked past and warned everyone about smoking weed backstage. Just as soon as we had finished dismissing him an over excited bouncer stormed in like he was a member of the SAS. He proceeded to find a tiny piece of solid on the floor and started to interrogate everyone with in the face over the top behaviour, now I would have dismissed him but then I knew no better, none of us did. Except Roger 'Hinnie' when confronted by this officious oaf he merely told him calm and simply to 'fuck off' and he did, well from him and back to us.

Later, half a dozen of us were escorted by the Police into the back of the van and onto Preston nick. Here we had to take off belts and shoelaces and give names and addresses and all looked and felt a bit stupid. Again except for Roger who when questioned on occupation simply replied 'musician'.
I was so jealous and in awe.

We spent the rest of the night in the cells, which was quite exciting, something in a perverse sense I'm glad I have achieved. We may not have been as rock and roll as 'The Hinnies' but they were from London, we were from Fleetwood and back home recounting our stories we felt every bit as rock and roll.

The Hinnies went on to record one album and split up, if you get the chance to hear it do as it was and still is a great album, if released today I'm sure it would have been a massive hit, well if the Stereophonics can make money, where's the justice?

Paul Burke

JohnnyCeed

GENTLEMEN'S SOCIETY GATHERING

Steam Room, Grosvenor Hotel, London, November 2004

Gentlemen,

This is your officially appointed Secretary General. I am contacting you all on matters of protocol and policy within the Gentlemen's society.
Regrettably, I am leaving for Bahrain on the 2nd of next month. Marjorie
has become embroiled in things over there, and I must go there and defend her case at the highest court in that land. While I will always
remain a staunch affiliate of our society, matters of Gentlemen do not
attend to themselves.

I therefore call to order all that partook in the inaugural meeting. You
may recall I was blessed with the aforementioned title. With heavy
heart, I realise I must now pass on that torch to another. Please
consider carefully your choice of nomination. As my last act of office I
will oversee the voting process, providing pens, paper and a ballot box.
(Note: black ball rules apply).

During my tenure as Secretary General, I have been accosted by various women - inexplicable creatures of the opposite sex - who tried to berate me for not inviting them into the inner confines of our group. A
comprehensive explanation of the nature of our society provided little
relief. So I propose that the no-tails be allowed to attend, on the
understanding that they adhere to strict conditions.

The Conditions for Female Attendance:

1.They must have been formally invited by a Gentleman

2.Their designated Gentleman must assume full responsibility for
their female's actions.
3.The Gentleman must apologise for any
inappropriate or inane conversational gambits, and be prepared to escort
them swiftly from the premises should the female become unbearable or
'emotional'.
4.Any female attendee MUST wear facial hair - moustaches or beards
only please. (Fake facial hair is acceptable).

Any Gentleman found contravening these stipulations will naturally be
expelled from the Society.

Some of those attending were with me in the 'Mob' and although they will
tolerate civilian company, please be sure to elucidate any of your more
left-field or wish-washy views with a full rendition of the society
anthem - Whitesnake's 'Straight for the Heart'.

"...Stand and deliver in the name of love ..."

Roger J Harbinger QC Bar (retd.)

Pitch & Putt

More Here

The Man from Delmonte

The Hinnies

The Show Turkey Shoot! Xmas 2004

The Harbinger part 6

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