Ian Buxton in the Meteors © Ian Buxton
The Black Knights and The Meteors
Rock'n'roll tales from Ian BuxtonIt started when I was fifteen. We lived in a red bricked, turn of the century house in Lane End, Bembridge on the Isle of Wight. The beach at the end of the lane was where us village lads used to congregate during summer weekends. This particular day Brook Tricket, a lad who we didn't see often, came strolling down the lane with a guitar. It was the days of Cliff and The Shadows and Brook was singing 'Living Doll'. My infatuation with that evocative instrument, which was later to change the face of modern music, was born. When I first heard the strains of The Shadows' Apache, I couldn't believe my ears. Here was a sound the like of which I had never heard before. I was and truly hooked.
I decided I must have a guitar and bought a cheap acoustic in a blue cloth case from a shcool friend. I found it far less painful to listen to the guitar than to play. After floundering aroudn with one of the few books on the subject, which were then available, I came to the conclusion that the untuneable guitar with its vicious finger lacerating action, was not helping. By now Brook had a white solid guitar called a Tuxedo and a small amp with tremelo. One night he performed a wonderful rendition of Duane Eddy's 'Forty Miles of Bad Road' at Bembridge Youth Club. This gave me the inspiration I needed.
Nose pressed against the glass of Teagues, the Ryde music shop, I looked longingly at a white, slimline Kingsway guitar and a small amplifier with tremelo. It was a lot more than I could afford but somehow, with the help of HP, I was able to give my aching left wrist a well earned rest and kick my old acoustic guitar with its blue case into touch. I went electric.
I soon learnt that a better instrument would enhance my playing ability only if I actually knew how to play. I twas time for lessons. With the help of an older village lad Roger Langton, I managed to gain a limited understanding of chord structure. The word got around that I had an electric guitar with amp with tremelo. Doug Watson and Brook Trickett came to see my equipment. They were more impressed with the gear than me but said they needed a new rhythm guitarist as John Greenway was leaving to go to university. Son of the village music teacher, John was accomplished guitarist and gave me the benefit of his knowledge before leaving the Island.
I had made it! A member of The Black Knights. The line up was Doug on drums, Brook as lead guitar, Howard Brown on bass, Roger Peck, a good looking guy who all the women loved, was our singer and me on rhythm with my white Kingsway and amp with tremelo.
Although I was very much a novice, I spent a summer with The Black Knights. We played at the Culver Club and Yellands Chalet Hotel. I remember Charlie Martin, Yelland's entertainments manager, introducing us as 'a group of boys who were destined to go far.' By this time Brook had brought a Futurama and converted the Tuxedo into a bass guitar for Howard. During our opening number Howard's study bottom E string off the delicate machine head, which was designated for a much thinner string. 'Keep going' Doug shouted to the rest of us and somehow we got through the performance.
My days with The Black Knights were short lived. Roger bought a Hofner Colorama which was better than my Kingsway and he could play and sing. A much better propositin than me who was still very much a novice. Then followed a period of consolidation for me. I used to practice with Tom Bennet. He played the piano and I accompanied him. He had an excellent musical ear and we played a whole variety of numbers. Our practices were always concluded with tea and platefuls of May Bennet's excellent cakes.
Working as an apprentice hairdresser in 1961, I had plenty of time to practice during the slack periods. This coupled with my sessions with Tom had rendered me a respectable rhythm guitarist. My hairdressing days came to an abrupt end when I decided that I must look for pastures greener or die of boredom. 'I play the guitar with a few lads at Ryde Youth Club and Blackie our rhythm guitarist is going in the merchant navy. Why don't you come and meet the rest of the boys?' Ron Goddard said. Ron and I were both apprentice electricians with Freddie Wood in Bembridge. This was the start of my next musical adventure.
I got on well with The Meteors and of course they like my Kingsway and the amp with tremelo. I was in! Ron played lead guitar, Ross Hopkins played bass, Spud Tate was our singer and larger than life Bob Watkins played the drums very loudly. Our practice at the youth club produced results and we started to get bookings. We shocked the quiet neighbourhood of Bembridge when we played for Sir Humphrey Atkin's daughters. He was then MP for Merton and Morden and owned Beach House at the bottom of Lane End.
Where are they now? A collection of Meteors fans © Ian Buxton
Those sixties summers were always good times for us. There were many holiday places which were beginning to see the attraction of having a group as a spot in their cabaret. We played at Whitecliffe Chalet Hotel, Shanklin, Ventor and Ryde Piers and other dance halls around the Island. Ventnor Pier was windswept, outdoor, ballroom which was more suited to the Mediterranean than the English Channel. It was always cold and often rained. Shanklin pier was a better booking as it was inside and warm. We were often the backing group for more experienced London groups and developed a collection of female fans, who became our groupies.
The Diamond Club, Ryde
An entrepreneurial man before his time, Simon Hornsby, had a vision of the Isle of Wight's own Cavern Club. He rented a disused cellar, which was adjacent to Joe Watkins's Flamingo Club. Called the Diamond Club, Simon's vision was realised and we played there every Saturday night before moving next door at midnight to play in The Flamingo to the small hours. The Diamond Club, the 'hole' as it was colloquially known, had a short but exciting life.
By now with a Watkins Copycat echo chamber and a big home made job for bass and Bob was as loud as ever. In the dark, sweaty caverns of the 'hole' we were devastating. Understandably the neighbours didn't like us. The 'hole' was a safety hazard, considered thoroughly unsavoury by the local residents and Simon didn't have a licence. Despite a protest march to Ryde Town Hall - the 'hole' was returned to its damp, dark, derelict state.
The Flamingo Club
Joe was much better positioned with the local community, since many of them probably gambled in his club. Our Flamingo days continued. The greatest treat at the end of a Saturday night was to eat egg and chips with lashings of salad cream, cooked by Bob's mum in the Flamingo Club's large kitchen, at three am in the morning. Joe was always very selective about who he allowed into his club. Even on the Island during those sixties summers there were always a few unpleasant types wandering around during the small hours.
There were many wild nights in Joe's establishment. Most of the patrons were reasonably well behaved until they experienced the pounding beat of The Meteors. Their inhibitions were then cast to the wind along with various items of clothing. They would form a circle and one person would strip to the music. The faster and louder we played the higher the times of male and female underwear seemed to fly through the air.
After the demise of the 'hole', we used to go to the York Hotel for the early part of the Saturday night and listen to the Cherokees. On one occasion Bob had more than his fair share of drink and by the time we got to the Flamingo Club to start our gig, he was in a bad state. When he finally turned one of his drums upside down and emptied the contents of his tortured stomach into it, we felt it was time to get a reserve drummer before the usual late night revellers arrived. The ultimate indignation for Bob was to peer through his drunken haze at the face of Johnnie Whittington sitting in his place, as he was rather ungraciously carried off to bed. Johnnie played for the Crescents, who were our local rivals.
We were not a sophisticated band. Our music was loud, solid and sometimes distorted. When The Kinks came on the scene we very easily related to their earthy style. Ron was particularly good with his solos and was a great singer. It was the ability to deliver what our audeince wanted at that time which lead to our success in the Hampshire Youth Clubs Beat Contest in February 1965. The final was held at Southampton Guildhall and the finalists, The Meteors and the Blues Syndicate, battled it out as a warm up for the star attraction, The Swinging Blue Jeans. We played to a capacity crowd. With that distinctive sound of the Kink's 'Tired Of Waiting' and 'All Day And All Of The Night,' we won.
Riding on the momentum of our Southampton success, we were second on the bill, to the Cherokees, at the Commodore Theatre at Ryde. It was the Island's first truly local rock concert. Anybody who was anybody in the rock scene on the Island was there. We did our Kinks repertoire and a few standard rock numbers and recieved warm applause. However we were totally eclipsed by the Cherokees in the second half. That group of four Sandown Grammer Schoolboys, led by Brian (Prickles) Sharpe, were immendsely talented. I shall always remember when they played the Beatle's 'I Wanna Hold Your Hand' at the York. With closed eyes, it would easy to be convinced that the 'fab four' had made a vectus visit. Unlike the Stones, they never did. Following these successes there were some vague ideas about us going professional but not everybody was prepared to take the chance.
'I am going to join the police force' Ron said to our astonishment. It was time to settle down, he was to marry the girl he loved, Val. 'Mewie is looking for a new group,' said Bob 'and he's got some pretty good gear including a Rickenbacker.' Chris Mew was an eccentric rhythm guitarists of the Knights and later the Midnight Creepers, a talented trio comprising Chris, Doug Watson and Barrie Millership.
Chris inherited a small fortune and was always changing his guitars. I bought a beautiful pale green Gretsch from him when he was with the Creepers. On joining our group he immediately decided that he neeed the sharp piercing sound of the Fender Telecaster. He suggested that I should have the Rickenbacker and my Gretsch should go in a part-exchange deal for the Fender. Since I was getting a substantially better guitar at nil cost, I didn't argue. My biggest regret was selling that Rickenbacker later when The Meteors folded. It would be worth a fortune today. We had stormy but exciting time with Mewie. He was a very dynamic and innovative musician but totally unpredicatable.
With Mewie and some greater amplication we became even louder. We drove our amps to their limit one day when we were practising the Animals' 'We Gotta Get Out Of This Place,' in one of the Mew Cement Company's large buildings. The gear was set up in th emiddle of an open area and the sheer power of the sound we produced shook clouds of cement and other dust deposits from the rafters in the roof. The raining particles created a surrealistic effect, the like of which today, would be part of a pop video.
We used to play on Saturday nights at Lane's Inn at Totland Bay. To this day I shall never know how the barman was ever able to take any orders when we were playing at our ear splitting volume. A particular favourite of mine was an old Brooker T and the MGs number called 'Green Onions'. We played our own very loud version and I used to position my guitar right in front of my Vox AC30 speakers on full volume and get that poor amp to howl like a tortured animal.
Mewie's idiosyncrasies caused a few tensions in the group from time to time. Eventually Ross decided to look for pastures greener. Keith Roberts, the brilliant bass guitarist of the Knights swapped places with him.
This highly talented line up was sadly our last. For various reasons we eventually went our separate ways. I was keen to continue with my studies, which were to later take me to Australia, university and change my life in a radical way. Bob left the Island. Mewie wandered off into oblivion to re-emerge later and Keith was immediately snapped up by another band. My adventure with The Meteors spanned about five years of my late teens and early twenties, a small part of my life but one full of wonderful memories of a very exciting era.
Ian G Buxton