by Mick O'Shea
In September 1973, Mick began his Art Foundation course at the Hammersmith School of Art at Lime Grove in Shepherd's Bush. As he passed through the school's hallowed portal that autumnal Monday morning, he was no doubt hoping this was where the seeds of his musical dreams would bear fruit. After all, John Lennon had befriended Stuart Sutcliffe at the Liverpool College of Art; Keith Richards had encountered his old primary school acquaintance Mick Jagger on a platform at Dartford railway station whilst en route to Sidcup Art College, and Pete Townshend had formed his first group, the Confederates, with his childhood friend Jon Entwistle whilst the pair were enrolled at Ealing Art College.
Mick was so convinced that he would find his own three-chord collaborator amongst Hammersmith's student throng that at the mid morning break he'd made a beeline for the toilets expecting to find like-minded souls huddled together showing each other their licks. Mick's disappointment at discovering he was the only student at Hammersmith who knew his da Vinci's from his 'diminished seventh', was compounded by his having to sit through his first year adhering to the school's curriculum before finally being allowed to express himself on canvas. During this time he'd come to realise that he wasn't expressing himself on guitar as he would have liked and thought the answer lay in switching to bass; his reasoning being there were only four strings to master instead of six.
Borrowing a Vox Precision from John Brown, he set about familiarising himself with the instrument. He even got as far as purchasing his own bass – a second-hand Shaftsbury Ned Callan Cody – before deciding the bass was too cumbersome to be sexy. Though he would persevere with the bass for several months after this date, it's fair to say the catalyst for his reverting back to the guitar came on Wednesday, 28 November 1973, after seeing the New York Dolls in all their sling-back and feather-boa glory on The Old Grey Whistle Test.
BBC2's late-night 'serious' alternative to the teen-oriented Top Of The Pops, had been running for two years by the time the New York Dolls – who were in London on the UK leg of a European jaunt to promote their recently-released eponymous debut album – tottered onto the studio's soundstage. Unlike Top Of The Pops, groups invited onto the 'Whistle Test' as it was colloquially known amongst its predominantly bearded, Afghan coat-wearing, university graduate TV audience, were expected to play live – if only to show they were a cut above the manufactured pop acts of the day whose very existence relied on their being Radio One friendly.
Just why the Dolls were allowed to mime their way through 'Looking For a Kiss' and 'Jet Boy' – both of which appear on their eponymous debut album – has never been properly explained, but their being given carte blanche to prance and preen without the need to worry about keeping the beat made for a truly spellbinding performance. The show's presenter, the DJ and journalist 'Whispering Bob' Harris, whose staid, laid back delivery could have served as a sleep cure for insomniacs, dismissed the Dolls as 'mock rock', but those eight highoctane infused minutes caught the imagination of those who preferred their rock 'n' roll heroes to have attitude rather than aptitude. Despite being labelled 'faggots' and 'freaks' by the New York press, the Dolls had built up a fanatical following on their home turf owing to their penchant for taking to the stage dressed like Harlem hookers, and playing catchy, high-energy rock 'n' roll. However, it really would prove to be a case of 'Too Much Too Soon' for the Dolls, because by the time their second album went on sale the group were on a terminal downward slide.
Billy Murcia, their original drummer had overdosed on Mandrex in a London hotel the previous summer whilst the group had been on the verge of signing a £100,000 deal with the newly-incorporated Track Records. And with guitarist Johnny Thunders and Murcia's replacement Jerry 'Niggs' Nolan both dabbling in heroin, they were hardly likely to shake their 'junkies' tag.
The Dolls' management team had also recognised the writing on the wall, and began devoting their time, money, and energies to the other act on their books, Aerosmith. It was therefore left to self-professed Dolls junkie Malcolm McLaren to try and rejuvenate their ailing career. Instead of settling for giving the Dolls' a makeover by decking them out in tight-fitting patent red leather ensembles, Malcolm also had them perform in front of a hammer and sickle backdrop. This, of course, was at the height of the Vietnam War, and his ill-advised 'better red than dead' stance was never going to sit well down on the Bowery while American troops were returning home from south-east Asia in body-bags draped in the stars and stripes.
It's become something of Clash folklore that it was his seeing the Dolls' careening about the Whistle Test stage that blew Mick's mind to the point where he fired off a missive to Robin Crocker at Albany raving about the New York Dolls. And yet during a 2006 www. gibson.com interview he claimed he was already hip to the brash New Yorkers by the time of their UK TV debut: 'I saw them on The Old Grey Whistle Test, but I saw them live too. They were supporting the Faces at Wembley Stadium. I must have been thirteen or fourteen, that perfect influential age, when you're really gonna be changed. And I was! I pretended to be Johnny Thunders for a bit.
'At that time, I was living with my grandmother, her sister, and her sister-in-law,' he continued. 'That was very strange, growing up with three old ladies. When I started dressing like Johnny Thunders, they were a bit worried, to be quite honest. But I assured them that everything was okay.'
Many of Mick's future punk contemporaries would cite seeing the Dolls' incendiary Whistle Test shenanigans as being their wake-up call, but thanks to his mum Renee having the wherewithal to include copies of cutting-edge US underground magazines Rock Scene and Creem in her monthly care packages, Mick was already alert to what was happening musically stateside.
As such, his record collection already boasted albums by Detroit's seminal punk pioneers, the MC5 and the Stooges. 'I was lucky she was living in America,' Mick explained. 'When I saw that stuff I was like, "Wow!" There weren't many people over here who were into that sort of music in those days; only a handful.'6
* * *
* In 1972, The Who would take possession of the church hall and convert it into Ramport Studios where they recorded Quadrophenia. (BACK)
– CHAPTER THREE –
TEENAGE DELINQUENT
'Songwriting came to me at the same time I was learning so it all came together at that point. I was sixteen when I started on guitar but before then I was always asking, "How do you do this?" "How do you do that?"'
– Mick Jones
DESPITE HAVING LIVED OUT of each other's pockets for the best part of twelve months, it wasn't until May 1974 that Mick tentatively suggested to John Brown that they should perhaps start a group of their own. He did so after espying a notice for a forthcoming science-fiction convention being held at a hotel on Russell Square on the notice board at the National Film Theatre which happened to be screening a season of his favoured science-fiction films. Taking a stall at the convention he then sold some of the more collectable American sci-fi comics that Renee had sent over from America so as to raise the £80 asking price for a second-hand black Fender Telecaster he'd set his heart on.
It's ironic that Mick should choose a guitar that would forever be associated with his future songwriting partner, because whilst the Fender Telecaster perfectly suited Joe's 'six strings or none' approach to guitar-playing, the instrument's thin tone was never going to compliment Mick's style.
Paul Wayman was brought in on lead guitar, while drummer Mike Dowling arrived via the time-honoured Melody Maker classifieds. Although Dowling was married, and wasn't all that much better than Jim Hyatt behind the kit, his father-in-law's owning a garment factory where the group could rehearse of an evening free of charge saw Mick and John overlook his shortcomings.
With the line-up complete, Mick and John set about racking their brains for a cool-sounding name. They briefly toyed with the idea of calling themselves 'Coca Cola Douche' after the song of the same name by the New York psychedelic rock outfit, The Fugs, before settling on The Delinquents.
They may have bee
n Delinquents by name, but no one could accuse them of loitering without intent as within less than a month they made their live debut in the Students' Union bar at the Queen Elizabeth College in Kensington on 19 June 1974. John and Paul, of course, had already played together with Schoolgirl, and Mike also had previous experience of playing live, but for Mick this was his first time in the spotlight and no amount of practising in his room or rehearsing at the factory would have prepared him for the adrenaline surge as he stepped up onto the stage.
The college crowd were largely appreciative of their efforts, yet it would be another six months before The Delinquents appeared in public again. The reason for the lengthy lay-off had nothing to do with Mick having suffered first night nerves, but rather because he was unhappy with playing a set consisting of covers.
Playing off-the-beaten-tracks such as MC5's 'Sister Anne', the Flamin' Groovies' 'Second Cousin', and 'Sometimes Good Guys Don't Wear White' by the Standells, had undoubtedly set the group apart from the run-of-the-mill covers acts, yet Mick was desperate to avoid their being dismissed as just another human jukebox.
♪♪♪
The Delinquents had gone into self-imposed exile primarily to work up a half-hour set of original material, but thanks to John having spotted an ad in the Melody Maker's classifieds offering cheap and above average recording facilities at £3.50 per hour, they'd headed across London to Budget Studios in High Holborn and put together a highly polished promotional package, which included promo leaflets, publicity photos, and a demo acetate seven-inch single featuring two of their new compositions: 'You Know It Ain't Easy' b/w 'Hurry'.
Given that Mick, John, and Paul were all Mott The Hoople maniacs, it was perhaps to be expected that The Delinquents' sound wasn't all that far removed from that of their heroes. Another home-grown influence – as stated on the promo leaflet – were The Sharks, which featured a pre 'Motorbikin'' Chris Spedding in its line-up. Aside from being an accomplished guitarist, Chris was an aspiring producer, and his hand would be at the helm when the Sex Pistols made their first foray into the recording studio in May 1976.
Prior to their second live outing at the Thomas à Beckett on the Old Kent Road on 25 November, Mick placed two ads in the 26 October 1974 issue of Melody Maker; the first touting for further gigs, while the second let it be known the group was seeking professional management.
The Delinquents may have only chalked up one solitary show, but such was the Melody Maker's circulation at that time that both ads generated a modicum of interest in the 'Raunch Rock 'n' Roll' they were promising to deliver; the most attentive coming from a highlyreputable agency who invited them to a meeting at their offices on Oxford Street.
According to Mick's recollections, the meeting was akin to the Kit Kat TV ad from the 1980s, where the music exec tells the Flock of Seagulls-esque hopefuls that they 'can't sing, can't play, and look awful'. However, instead of sitting back, snapping his chocolate wafer snack and telling The Delinquents they ought to go far, the agent nonchalantly wandered over to the fire doors, whipped out his dick, and proceeded to urinate over the fire escape. Having succeeded in exposing himself, the voyeuristic agent's interest in The Delinquents was at an end.
It must have seemed as though the agent had delivered the piss of death to The Delinquents' aspirations, for although the Thomas à Beckett show earned them a return to the Old Kent Road on 9 December, the impetus which had carried them thus far was on the wane. A portent of the ill-wind that would soon deflate the group's sails came three days after the second Thomas à Beckett outing when they performed at the Hammersmith School of Art.
Mick, of course, was already well known at the college, if only for his outlandish 'Keef Thunders' garb, but that wasn't enough to save The Delinquents from being given a frosty reception from his fellow students. Not everyone in the audience proved impervious to Mick's charms, however.
Recounting that evening as part of a Blitz magazine Clash retrospective in 1988, the future Slits guitarist, and vivacious punk siren, Viv Albertine, admitted to thinking her soon-to-be-boyfriend looked great in his leather jeans, frilled shirt, and black high-heeled slingbacks. Viv had been equally impressed with Mick's classroom ensemble the first day she encountered him in Hammersmith College's canteen: tight red-and-white checked trousers, a too tightly-fitted girl's jacket, the same black high-heeled slingbacks, '[and] all topped off with fluffy, backcombed hair.'1
'I see a flash of colour – a blur of dark hair, high-heeled shoes, fluttering chiffon scarves and the longest, thinnest legs I've ever seen. And then it's gone, disappeared into the men's loo. "Was that a guy?"'2
Following the festive break, The Delinquents reconvened to plan their strategy for the coming year. However, the holidays had given Dowling's Greek wife plenty of time to express her displeasure at his playing popstar and rather than endure his wife's lashings in a foreign tongue, he decided to put away childish things and concentrate on his parental responsibilities.
Given that Mick and John didn't think much of Dowling's musicianship this was as good as finding an unopened prezzie whilst packing away the Christmas decorations, but the ink was barely dry on their ad for a no-nonsense, commitment-free drummer when Wayman announced he was quitting the group.
Losing two members in as many weeks would have sounded the death-knell for many wannabe rockers, but any despondency Mick and John might have had over their old Strand School pal's unexpected departure evaporated into the ether when a Norwegian drummer by the name of Geir Waade responded to their appeal.
Realising that his rock'n'roll aspirations would wither on the bough if he remained in his homeland, Geir, together with his keyboardplaying pal Casino Steel (a.k.a Stein Groven) had arrived in London four years earlier. Whereas Casino's keyboard trickery was soon snapped up, Geir found there wasn't quite the same demand for drummers and he was forced to find regular work in order to meet the rent. By the time he saw the Delinquents' 'DRUMMER REQUIRED' ad in Melody Maker, he was working for Richard Branson's Virgin Records, which was on its meteoric rise up the record company rankings thanks to the phenomenal success of Mike Oldfield's debut album Tubular Bells.
Mick and John were suitably impressed by Geir's claims to have been invited back for a second audition for the quirky American duo Sparks who'd scored a number two on the UK Singles chart in April 1974 with 'This Town Ain't Big Enough For The Both Of Us', but they soon realised his drumming prowess was no better than that of the recently-departed Dowling. However, they were both swayed by Geir's fashion sense and agreeable nature, while an added bonus came with his Nordic looks ensuring a surfeit of female attention whenever they went out on the town.
It was Geir who also found Paul Wayman's replacement in the form of former Hollywood Brats' guitarist Eunan Brady, or 'Brady' as he'd taken to calling himself; his acquaintanceship with Brady stemming from Casino having been in the Hollywood Brats.
Despite their having never heard of the Hollywood Brats, Geir's shameless eulogising of the Dublin-born guitarist's talents was enough to arouse Mick and John's interest. Simultaneously, he'd bragged to Brady about what The Delinquents had to offer, though both parties were unaware of the Norwegian's playmaking until they were all sitting around the same table at Brady's Maida Vale flat.
♪♪♪
Brady was already painfully aware of Geir's limitations from the latter having occasionally sat in at Hollywood Brats rehearsals, but he was equally disparaging of Mick's and John's musicianship. There was, however, no denying their drive and passion, and although he still harboured misgivings about taking what he saw as a backward step following his time with the Brats, he allowed himself to be carried along on the tide of enthusiasm.
Brady's introduction undoubtedly brought The Delinquents an added dynamic, but it also brought about an irrevocable shift in the balance of power within the group. Mick and John might have been the founding members, but that counted for naught seeing as they now only held a fifty per cent share of the vote when it came
to decisionmaking. And as Brady and Geir both preferred playing with an out and out frontman, they pressed Mick and John into placing another ad in the Melody Maker classifieds.
The ad – which appeared in the paper's 22 February 1975 issue – failed to unearth a 'DECADENT VOCALIST' in the Mick Jagger and David Johansen vain, but it did at least serve to bring them to the attention of Tony Gordon, whose management company, Wedge, happened to be looking to bolster its client roster.
Gordon duly attended a Delinquents rehearsal, and while he made the obligatory appreciative grunts, he shared Geir and Brady's concerns about Mick's singing voice and said they should give him a call once they'd found a frontman.
Rather than shell out for another ad, however the group decided to take a more proactive approach and began trawling the usual musical haunts on London's live circuit such as the Red Cow in Hammersmith, the Golden Lion on Fulham Broadway, or the Windsor Castle in Maida Vale, in search of someone who fit the Jagger/Johansen mould.
It was on one of their sorties that Mick and John bumped into their old Strand School buddy Kelvin Blacklock.
On hearing Kelvin say how his group, Overtown, which also included ex-Schoolgirl drummer Jim Hyatt, had secured a residency of sorts playing alternate Wednesdays at the Marquee Club on Wardour Street throughout January and February, Mick and John agreed to come long to their next show as a show of support for their friends; little realising that Brady and Geir would be totally blown away by Kelvin's vocal and onstage showmanship.