Ok so this is the pitch, a true life story of an imaginary Manchester band. The inside history of the albums, the stories, the bust ups, the fights, the tours. A story that ranges from the late 1970s to 2011. All of it true. But fictional. The story of The Greatest Band That Never Existed.
It’s about time to let other people read it I reckon and the ultimate aim is to see it published.
I am aware that jumping straight in loses context but hope it can be enjoyed as a fun, whimsical read to give a sense of the full picture.
Here is a random chapter and I plan to occasionally post more random sections to act as samplers. To quote 24, the following takes place between 1998 and 1999. Ish.
Chapter 29: Adam and Jason
John decided to kill two birds with one stone: the band had a new member who would need to move to Manchester and Jason needed a permanent pad to dwell in because if he kept dossing in people houses for much longer he was liable to be given a ‘right decking’. He asked their manager, Bazza to sort them a place out. The reasoning behind it was simple, they both needed somewhere and he thought billeting them together would be good for team morale. Also he figured that Adam would calm Jason down and Jason would bring Adam out of his shell.
So Adam arrived in Manchester with his suitcases of gear and Andy escorted him to his new residence, an old three story house with a big garden but: ‘was like the one in Rising Damp, I’m telling you, the rats were like horses, still we didn’t starve that winter…’ says Jason, presumably in jest.
It was certainly a shock, we turned up to find Jason covered in flour pretending to be a ghost, he wasn’t off his head, that’s just how his mind works. Andy took me up to what was going to my bedroom and it was a lot nicer than I was expecting, the guys had painted it. In fact both bedrooms were very nice; it was just the rest of it that was a dive. I went to have a peek in Jason’s room while he was out haunting the garden to get a see what kind of a guy I was going to be living with, he’d been there for a few days but the bed was untouched, there were no signs of any clothes, but there was a stack of 60s psychedelic music on one side and a half eaten cheese sandwich and a packet of fags on the other. On that first night Mitch, John and Andy came around for a house-warming do, we ate curry and drank booze, listened to loads of music. The old drummer Freddie turned up cos he gets on really well with Andy. I thought that he and Jason might not get on, seeing as Jason now had his job but the pair of them got off their heads on cheap speed. Mitch and Bazza got hammered and John kinda took me under his wing cos he I think he felt more responsibility towards me. So we all woke up the next day worse for wear [apart from Andy who felt fine] and I felt like a proper member of the band. (Adam)
Freddie swore never to take speed again, which he hasn’t exactly stuck to and Mitch threw up over next doors cat. Jason decided to help out by grabbing the irate moggy and attempting to put it in the kitchen sink with last night’s washing up, which didn’t exactly go to plan as it scurried under the table and made hissing noises whenever anyone tried to approach it.
‘I suggested sending a dog in,’ recalls Jason. ‘But then presumably we’d have to send a fucking horse in then’. Somehow the beleaguered tabby was extracted and washed and returned from whence it came. Out of guilt whenever Adam saw the cat he gave it treats but it remained wary of Jason.
There were a few days inactivity before the band got back to work, initially rehearsing with Adam for the new boy to learn the classics, which left spare time for Adam and Jason to do some team bonding. One day they disappeared off to Manchester’s Museum of Science and Industry, Adam learnt about the textile trade while Jason dared visiting schoolchildren to climb on the exhibits, which backfired when the school kids double dared him to fit as many gift shop rubbers in his mouth as possible (‘It’s not often you see a grown man being booted out of a museum while nearly choking to death on novelty shaped erasers’ muses Adam).
Following this incident Jason felt especially altruistic and bought a few loaves of bread which he then took to the Manchester Ship Canal with the chief intention of feeding every duck, geese and swan there.
‘He was nearly killed’ smiles Adam, ‘or worse, rogered. It was incredible though, he was like a duck messiah’.