Post by neilcrud on Feb 25, 2007 14:53:13 GMT
4Q Diaries
The Second Gig – July 1987
The Second Gig – July 1987
Wayne was the only member of 4Q with a full time job, he worked in a car spares warehouse in Old Colwyn and like his employment he was the steady one in the band. Level headed with his flat-top hair cut, his nickname was Wayne The Bastard (much to the dismay of his Catholic parents). He helped fund the early days of 4Q with his income and would go on to perform many of his 46 appearances wearing a Freddy Kreuger mask and mexican hat, and once picked a fight with a very large farmer while on stage at a festival in Corwen. Two years into his 4Q career and with Neil Crud working in Devon for the summer season, Cumi and Matt drafted in Gumption Liquid to guitar with 4Q, Wayne became disillusioned with the direction the rest of the band was taking and in 1989 he opted to 'rough it' in Greece for a year; and did so for a 2nd time with Neil in 1991, staying on Kythera until the following summer. He now works in Llandudno and found himself once again in the spotlight (1999) after more than ten years' absence when interviewed for a newspaper article on 4Q.
Scraps / 4Q party at Edi's house - David, bird, Gropper and Wayne The Bastard
David Charange (The Scraps), Neil Crud (4Q)
It was a long eleven days before our next gig. We had a party in Edi’s back garden the night after our debut, with ourselves and The Scraps and their girlfriends enjoying our hospitality and the warmth of a summer evening. The hospitality took on a new meaning when they announced their promoter had messed things up and they one other gig in the next five days. I offered them the comforts of my two bedroomed flat and the suggestion they headlined our next gig. A serious week of partying commences and I gave up my bed to drummer Crasseaux and his very French and very sexy girlfriend Kati, while David, bassist Mo, guitarist Gropper and his girlfirend endured my lounge floor.
The Scraps returned on the Tuesday from a gig in Newcastle and they joined us for a rehearsal at the Frienny. By now we had enlisted my mate Paul Bod as a second guitarist as I vaguely remembered him playing Smoke On The Water some dope-hazed years earlier. It became a sort of mini-gig; we always had an ensemble of kids watching us plod through our painful paces and Anakonda played first, they were a musically competent band but didn’t have the songs. Then we went on which was a shambles, Bod (who wasn't ready for the Imp gig) kept playing the wrong chords to our songs and insisted they were right, then Edi walked out and went home, so it was up to The Scraps to blast our ears out with over an hour of entertainment. It was a token of thanks for the free board, and to keep their joints supple, they gave the Crud Crew a private performance, an hour’s onslaught of the fastest hardcore thrash you would ever witness. Crasseaux never actually plays a beat, just constant 1000mph drum rolls! Incredible! So incredible in fact that the police turned up to put an end to it as the neighbours were complaining.
Pure Brick Wall Punk - Wayne, Bowler, Edi, Neil, Puke, Cumi
Paul Bod had just come out after a two year stretch inside and I asked him to join 4Q. He moved into my flat as part of my attempt to keep him away from the drug parasites of Rhyl. We had initially met during the latter end of 1983, he had a large blond mohican and a leather jacket decorated with a magnificent Hawkwind logo. He teamed up with myself and school mate Jon Zep to become a teenage urban guerilla outfit hell-bent on causing disruption and chaos. Disruption as far as setting traffic lights to permanently stay on ‘red,’ and chaos as far as playing punk records very loud.
We had great times during 1984, Bod was 19 and a couple of years older than Jon and myself, thus knowing the world a tiny bit more. We all owned 100cc motorbikes and would travel forty miles at the dead of night to break into a cafe in a remote village to steal chocolate bars and crisps. And at that age we of course experimented with drugs. It began with smoking dope and taking acid, then Bod bought some speed.
It was OK we knew when to stop; or thought we did.
Then Bod soon discovered that drugs were in demand and found someone who could regularly supply them for him to sell on. He suddenly found himself with all this money, his record collection increased ten-fold, he became very popular amongst the recreational drug taking circles, and of course we, his mates had free drugs; mainly acid and a speed substitute. It didn’t take long to happen; with Bod openly turning up in various towns and villages with his Drugs On Wheels service he was pounced upon by the Drug Squad in the street and arrested.
Paul Bod was sentenced to three years (two for good behaviour) for supplying LSD and a class 3 controlled substitute amphetamine (cough medicine is also Class 3!!). Had he been doing this stupidity ten years later he’d have got a slap on the wrists. That was the extent of my foray into the dark side and I soon moved out of Rhyl’s clutches and on to Colwyn Bay.
Being a loyal friend, I kept in regular touch with Bod by means of letter writing and one prison visit, which involved a thorough search by the Prison Officers first. On Bod’s release two years later I was intent on keeping him away from the scumbags in Rhyl and Pensarn who I knew would lead him straight back inside. My efforts failed, and although he never repeated his enterpreneurisms, his recreationalisms soon became a dependancy which inevitably affected his health. I was obviously not his father and could not dictate who he could hang round with or where he could go. My suspicions were proved correct when I went into his room during his absence and found paraphenalia in his wardrobe, I knew I had no right to go through his things but I also did not want to have any involvement in what he was getting himself into and the people who I knew fraternised in those kind of circles. I burnt the stuff and on his arrival told him to leave my flat as soon as possible. He challenged me about going through his things, but I stood my ground and said I had a right to do so if I thought something suspicious was going on, and what I found was suss enough for me; we never spoke again.
Anhrefn's Sion Sebon, Neil Crud & Edi Filmstar
4Q’s second proper gig came at The Bee Hotel in Rhyl, a venue I discovered by accident in 1986 when I stumbled across Llandudno’s That Voodoo playing there. A year on Rhyl was still in the throes of major apathy toward live music and although the back room of this grotty pub was packed full of people, 90% had travelled from Colwyn Bay and Bangor.
We, as a band had made a pact not to get drunk before playing due to our musically shambolic debut. Only Edi kept his word while the rest of us got hammered behind his back!
Supporting was Anakonda whose short career spanned two gigs (this being the first). They featured, Paul ‘Wilbur’ Williams (vocal), Nic Allen (guitar) (later NRG), Helen Roberts (bass), and her brother Huw (drums). Their self penned song You Shit was pretty decent, but the rest of the material was pretty poor. Wilbur and Edi never quite saw eye to eye and it boiled over a few days after this gig during a 4Q rehearsal in the Frienny where Edi changed the words of a song to slag Anakonda off. Wisely, although a bit of a hard knock himself, Wilbur decided to vent his anger out on a window rather than take on Edi and the rest of 4Q. Wilbur did later become a good albeit brief, friend of mine.
The Flaps were also in support that night and brought a coach load of the Bangor contingent with them. There was a close-knit community relationship growing between Bangor and Colwyn Bay brought by the mutual love of everything punk rock. Ann Flaps had been in a Bangor band in the early eighties called Alternative Destinations with Emyr Thomas (drums) (later of Reinheitsgebot). They were a group who played kind of surf music type instrumentals with lots of drum solos! The Flaps were the only band to come out of that Rhyl gig with any credit from budding critic Steve Rastin. He was producing a fanzine called Kaleidoscope, which was interestingly being funded through local advertisements. Although mistakenly referring to The Flaps as Anakonda he was full of praise for them, citing them as ‘the light at the end of the tunnel.’
Rastin was not, however as full as much praise for 4Q;
‘…punk was always about rebellion with brains, and 4Q, the next band on the bill got it half right. Uncompromising and loud, they were also totally predictable, thereby ensuring that their message which, behind the barrage of expletives was probably quite relevant, was going to be heard by the unconverted. It's not enough for a band just to be outrageous- they need a strong set of songs if they are ever to rise above local hero status and should get their act together accordingly...it's up to the like of 4Q and The Scraps to get it together if a 2nd new wave is going to flush out the vacuuous pre-packaged product that is currently cluttering up pop's system.’
He was of course probably very right, 4Q did need a strong set of songs, something that wouldn’t happen for a long time (some would argue, ever!), but the outrage was there to thinly disguise that fact. With Edi at the helm, he was the perfect focal point, he demanded attention from his audience and he got it. The crowd also knew that if they heckled they’d be sure to receive a vented ‘fuck you motherfucker’ screamed at them with the appropriate gesture. It was a pity for him really that the rest of us were so musically incompentant as he would have made some band an excellent frontman.
Edi & Crud share a pint and a cuddle...!
The Scraps finished off everyone's 50p's worth of entertainment at The Bee Hotel (for that is how much the entrance fee was!) with an incredible performance. The crowd dragged David Charange, the singer onto the dancefloor and piled on top of him, then did the same with Gropper and Mo (the guitarist and bassist) before the drummer, Crasseaux jumped in. People were even diving off the PA speakers, all this in the backroom of a pub.
With a couple of gig cancellations The Scraps were kindly given a further three days free board at back at my flat. Once again giving up my bed for Crasseaux and his babe of a girlfriend Kati. We too became good friends in a short space of time, even though they couldn’t speak a word of English and my French lessons at school were spent outside the headmaster’s office!
Edi at the ritual burning of Cumi's Howard Jones records.
(The unconscious girl is Liz who let 4Q rehearse at her flat)
The House Of Crud (my flat) had always been an ‘open house’ – I would go work at The Prem in the morning and leave my door unlocked and usually come home to find someone there or that someone has called for a cup of tea and played some records (even the local traffic warden!). It never bothered me and everyone was trustworthy to an extent. I did get slightly annoyed sometimes (OK, very pissed off) particularly when I learnt two girl members of the Crud Crew had been sniffing deodorant at the flat. Not so much the fact of what they were doing, even though was stupid; but one of them fell down the stairs screaming and crying The neighbours must have loved me, I did feel sorry for the mother and child who lived in the flat below me, putting up with the rehearsing, loud music and parties.