Something Good

I'm being haunted by Herman's Hermits. Back in the summer of 1964 they played at the Adelphi House FCJ Grammar School summer fair. I was about to move up to this Salford secondary school, and as new pupils we had been invited to the fair. Herman's Hermits were playing in the gym,a newly built facility right by the River Irwell. On windy days chemical foam whipped up from the weir would blow across the playground, melting our nylon tights!They played 'I'm into Something Good', their first major hit and we all fell in love with Peter Noone's goofy cheeky chappy image. Of course it wasn't a hit until later that year, and it was exciting to hear it played on Radio Luxembourg through that summer, knowing that we had discovered them before they were famous. Earlier this summer I met someone on one of C P Lee's great music history walks in Manchester. He too had been at that particular Adelphi summer fair. The Adelphi site is now part of the University of Salford. The River Irwell might have salmon in it nowadays for all I know. We are singing a three part harmony version of 'I'm into Something Good' at the singing class I go to. When our tutor got the phrasing wrong a chorus of women of a certain age quickly put him right! On Saturday night it was played at the wedding disco of some young Italian friends. My youngest son's father did a great version of it with his band back in the mid 90s. I switched on the radio on Sunday morning and there it was. This is a song that is coming up to 48 years old! I know Goffin and King wrote songs that last, but where will it end? It's still full of optimism and the joys of youth. Maybe we should all hum along to it more often.

How long - has this been going on...

This has been a busy week. The wonder boy Michael Chabon on Sunday,writers' group on Tuesday, Robert Lee (of Black Gold of the Sun)organised an enjoyable evening at the Washington in Sheffield on Wednesday, the great Show of Hands at Buxton Opera House on Thursday. Friday night was scheduled for a catch up at home with Charlie,teenage son and lodger. It didn't quite work out like that. I'd lit the fire and settled in for the evening, so I read a bit, tidied a bit, made a couple of phone calls and then sat down to surf the TV channels. I got caught up in BBC4's evening about Squeeze and Paul Carrack. Now I have some memories of going to see them both, but I haven't felt any urgency to write about them until now. Like last Sunday's stroll through Manchester, it was a trip down Memory Lane. I saw Squeeze at an outdoor festival in Holland, possibly just outside Rotterdam. I was with my new Dutch boyfriend and I had to go back to Manchester to face the music of the break up of my first marriage. I couldn't stop crying, eyes and nose streaming on a lovely sunny summer afternoon. Their lyrics probably didn't help. I saw Ace during the 'How Long' days but I'm a bit hazy where. Kokomo were one of my favourite bands whilst I was at University, and I saw them live at Leeds. I still have their album. I suppose it's all blue eyed soul, but of a very English variety. Paul Carrack talked about his happy family days in Sheffield, before his father died as the result of an accident at work. Things seemed to be getting better all the time.I can recognise that feeling. He and his brother talked about being able to leave school on the Friday and walk into a job on the Monday. His brother took over the family decorating business at 15,and still runs it in Crookes. Sheffield is my second city. I moved there for a brief time in the early 90s and am very fond of it. Neil Hubbard described Paul Carrack as the Michael Palin of rock 'n' roll, because everyone loves him. Strange that Michael Palin is also a Sheffield lad.I went on a healing course with Matthew Manning when I was studying to be a homeopath. At the end of the weekend he played Mike and the Mechanics 'The Living Years'. It was incredibly moving, and I hadn't yet made the link with Paul Carrack that runs through all this.My friend Joyce, who died too young of a brain tumour, loved Paul Carrack and James Taylor and we managed to see them both together several times, so there are other associations linking all this for me.Then I went to see Mike and the Mechanics and rediscovered Paul Young, part of the scene in Manchester - Sad Cafe days. And Mike Rutherford was at school with Dim from Drive In Rock, the band I used to be in.Six degrees of separation, maybe less. Chris Difford said Paul Carrack's music translates the family love from his upbringing. There are many kinds of family.

There are places I'll remember

On an early autumn sunny Sunday afternoon I took a train to Piccadilly Station, Manchester. This time of year holds a sense of melancholy for me - nostalgia creeps up and ambushes me - the end of the holidays, return to boarding school. The Manchester railway stations hold a lot of memories for me, though they never appear in my dreamscapes, though Leeds station and the area around Manchester Cathedral are regular dream locations. There was a dreamy quality to the afternoon,and I was on my way to see one of my favourite authors, Michael Chabon, in conversation with Dave Haslam at the Whitworth Art Gallery as part of the Manchester Literature Festival. I knew there was a street food market and some music on in Albert Square, so I had arrived early to take a wander. Feeling something of the spirit of a flaneuse, even though there was a purpose to my visit, I decided to stroll. I passed the wall my unsuitable drug dealing boyfriend used to call the People Wall because it created an austere and revealing back drop for anyone walking past it. That was when I was 17. Today a homeless man with his dog rested against it. As I walked past a bar I heard Stevie Wonder singing 'I was made to love her'. Coffee bar jukebox, Gimlet Rock caravan Site, Pwllheli, North Wales circa 1967. Market St - the ghosts of Cromford Court and the Magic Village, New Brown St and the original On the 8th Day. A detour down Cross St, with a side street that led to what was once the Hollies boutique, where I had my first kiss from my first boyfriend. Round to St Annes Square, and The Royal Exchange, where my grandfather did his trading. Up to Albert Square, where I'd seen Candi Staton last year. Food and drink, a conversation with John Robb to thank him for his amazing review about Patti Smith back in September. Bumped into Elliott Rashman last seen at Bill Sykes' book launch for Sit Down! Listen to This!, but also part of the polytechnic 80s music scene, Simply Red's beginnings and the rest is history.Cutting through the threatened corridor between the old and 'new' Town Hall buildings to St Peter's Square. 'Rosencrantz and Guidernstern are Dead'at the Library Theatre when I was studying Hamlet for A level. The Odeon, boarded up and marooned at the top of Oxford St. We had stood in the road, screaming for a glimpse of Scott Walker from the dressing room windows. Package tours and teenage crushes. I met the already mentioned first boyfriend after a Small Faces concert there.On I went, leaving the city centre behind, past the nearly demolished BBC building where I had discussed ideas for programmes that never happened and the new On the 8th Day - such a significant piece of my history.Alberto Y Los Trios Paranoias developing their ideas between customers. XTC and half of Spirit coming in to explore Manchester's famous hippy shop.Bill Shumow, Beefheart's road manager, coming to collect me from work to head off on the tour bus. All Saints and the Cavendish Building, Thursday night discos and Drive in Rock home coming gigs. Royal Northern College of Music, still one of my favourite venues. Music Force - the ghost of the Georgian terrace and the musicians' collective - Bruce Mitchell, Tosh Ryan, Martin Hannett. On past the Students' Union, with a huge crowd outside, one or two I recognised, waiting to see Fun at the Academy. Recent strong memories of Patti Smith, and ancient memories of a film made of the dance troupe I was in when I was 16. By the time I reached the Whitworth I was in a perfect frame of mind to listen to a writer I admire, and I wasn't disappointed.