Thursday, 11 November 2010
The so called swinging sixties were my teenage years, although they didn't start swinging until the end of 63. I started that year in drainpipe trousers pointed toe shoes a leather jacket and brylcreamed hair, I finished it with straight leg Levi jeans, button-down collerd shirts, Hush puppie shoes a collage boy hair cut and a lambretta scooter. The mods had arrived. The scooter gave me instant freedom, I was able to go anyway anyhow anywhere to quote the Who. And we did. I was in Brighton on the good Friday when the mods were in a running battle with the rockers at clacton and on easter Monday I was in clacton when the battle resumed at Brighton. Right place wrong time. It wasn't the first or the last time. In those days most of the top bands came to a town near you and it didn't cost an arm and a leg to see them. We saw the who ,Spencer Davis with Stevie winwood ,yardbirds with Eric Clapton the hollies, hog snort Rupert with his big big band, alright they weren't all big famous bands. I was also lucky enough to see the Beatles perform live at southend Odean. I saw them but didn't hear them thanks to several hundred sceeming teenage girls. Life was good ,jobs were plentiful and the music was great. Everwhere you looked there were short skirts and I looked everywhere. You think it's all about to come crashing down at any minute don't you. Well it didn't, the music got better and the skirts got shorter.