Just like Eddie by Bob Spence (3/5)

(1/5), (2/5), (3/5), (4/5), (5/5).

I should have guessed what was going to happen but it was my cousin Johnny who broke the news that on a Tuesday night The Falcons had been rehearsing with Billy Keable who was ex-Toni Dee and the Boyfriends. I was out. I still had to be told. George came round and said that the rest of them, Martin really, thought my ideas were at odds and Billy had some new songs and arrangements. I could not bother to listen to it, not at all. I was gutted. "Don't worry love, it's their loss". My mother always looked out for me, as you would expect. She meant well but it was my loss.

The Falcons were becoming a very popular act that had gigs lined up throughout the year and Harry was expecting that during the summer we could play at the Morton Sands holiday camp where the caravan owners would drink a beer. I wouldn't be playing.

There was one shaft of sunshine in my life and that was Eddie appearing at the Hippodrome. I couldn't wait. Typical, it was raining. Not out and out rain but that thin sort of drizzle that really soaked you but you didn't realize until it was too late. I was soaked but it was worth it. Queuing for Eddie was not a hardship at all. Also typical the Consul arrived and The Falcons got out like stars. I wish that I could have been with them. Cheryl White spoke to me, who was two places in front of me in the queue. She was surprised that The Falcons had dropped me and suggested that I place an advert for a new band. I suppose.

Hippodrome had seen better days for sure in terms of its interior, but not in terms of artistes. This was it, this was it, any second now. The curtains pulled back, jerking across the stage. The house lights went up. The MC leant into the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, introducing our star guest, all the way from the USA, Mister...Eddie Cochran"! A figure strolled across the stage.

And there he stood. A little shorter than I had imagined but his skin was flawless, his hair piled high and his eyes flashed. We stood in awe. He grinned confidently and then the crowd roared. My hairs began to crawl on my neck and although it was incredibly hot I shivered. "Good evening and a big hello to Bristol. Great to be here, and...1.2.3.4". The band launched into C'mon everybody. The drummer pounded away and the lead guitarist twanged his bottom string. Eddie strummed away and did the twist at the same time. He did this across the stage twisting and strumming and grinning and then moved towards the microphone while looking up at the balcony. He stood in front of the microphone and hunching his shoulders opened his mouth and I was in heaven.

'C'mon everybody'. When I reflect it was just like yesterday. Somehow time has stood still and because Eddie never got any older this magical moment could never be eroded by time. Whenever I think of Eddie it is always in the context of milk bars and Morris Minors and Vimto and Don Lang and Harold Macmillan, as he can never be thought of in any other period. A warren of corridors led to a back room and sitting on a guitar case was the gaunt and haunted figure of Gene Vincent with a half-finished bottle of amber liquid. "What the fuck is you looking at boy"? His belligerence was certainly at odds with his Saturday Club performances. In those days an American accent was still exotic and Gene had a soft but subtle twang to his drawl.

Continued... Next Page (4/5)

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