Читать книгу Mad, Bad and Dangerous - The Book of Drummers' Tales - Spike Webb - Страница 18

In his earlier days, before opening his bar/shop, Bob Henrit was the drummer on Unit 4+2’s hit ‘Concrete and Clay’, and played with The Roulettes and Argent before joining The Kinks following Mick Avory’s departure in the mid-’80s. He has also played with The Who’s Roger Daltrey. Henrit is also famous for inventing the electronic drum set known as ‘flats’, so called because the drums are literally flat and can be packed away into one, easy-to-carry case.

When I met Bob, he recalled an incident while he was on tour with The Kinks, playing very large clubs on the East Coast of America.

It’s 12.30am and I’m in my dressing room in a big club somewhere in New Jersey. I’ve just finished a great gig with The Kinks. No one else is around so I simply sit back, towel my sweaty hair and enjoy a cool beer.

However it’s not long before my quiet reverie is interrupted by a quick knock on the door. It’s the tour manager, Dave Bowen: ‘Oh, hi Bob, nice show! You played well tonight!’

‘Thanks!’

‘Er, where is everyone?’

‘I’ve no idea, I was just…’

‘I’m trying to find one of the security guys…’

‘I’ve not seen anyone…’

‘You wouldn’t do me a favour, would you?’

‘What?’

‘I’m off to the venue offices to collect the money for the show and settle up with security.’

‘But I’m not security, I’m only the drummer!’

‘Yeah, but I could do with some moral support.’

I remember that the club is owned by two notorious brothers whose names end in a vowel. Slightly curious and a little nervous, I reluctantly agree to accompany Dave to the offices upstairs. After climbing a couple of flights and walking down a long corridor, we come to the door of the office. Dave knocks.

‘Come!’

We enter a large and lavishly decorated office, complete with leather armchairs and cocktail cabinet. One of the brothers is relaxing with his feet up on his desk. In front of him is a piece of glass with a huge pile of white powder on it. He says: ‘Fancy a blow job?’

‘P-pardon?’

He gestures magnanimously to a door at the back of the office. ‘My brother’s in there getting a blow job from one of our girls. You’re next in line if you’ve got some time to spare!’

‘Aah, er… how kind. We’ll probably leave it for now if you don’t mind.’

‘No problem! How about a snort anyway?’

‘Er… perhaps another time. Actually we’ve come about the payment for the show.’

‘Tell you what, I’ve had an idea…’

(Oh no, what now?)

‘Why don’t you take a couple of handfuls of this charlie instead? Call it quits?’

‘H-how thoughtful. Erm, the thing is, we also need to pay our security people, who are actually made up of the local constabulary so it might be a bit…’

Thankfully the guy waves his hands in acquiescence, opens a drawer and pulls out a wad of notes. As we leave the office, Dave muses on what would have actually happened had you tried to pay security in cocaine instead of money.

Then I have an idea: why not send them all upstairs for blow jobs and do a runner with the money…?

When Bob told me this story it struck me as a tad cheeky to expect him, in the absence of anyone from security, to accompany the tour manager to see the promoters and ask for the money. It would have been unthinkable to ask a guitarist or singer to go and get the money. The guys might cut up rough and the poor boys might get their fingers broken. But a drummer? Tub-thumpers mate – ten a penny.