GAFFA play
Clarendon College
[Dream
target date - 18 January 1980]
The student common room
at Clarendon College was a vacuous tip, a thoroughfare to the
refectory where spotty catering students and denim-clad rock
fans rested between classes. There were a few old pinball machines
and a juke-box which played Ian Dury's 'Hit me with your rhythm
stick' continuously.
In spite of the art department's
aloofness, we were frequently called upon by the Student Union
to help organise events and produce banners for the Anti Nazi
League gigs, CND marches and the like. Lunchtime performances
by local bands were also guaranteed to bring us down from our
ivory tower. Today, the common room was in semi-darkness and
almost filled to capacity. An ominous buzzing sound could be
heard above the chatter. We forged a path to the front of the
crowd to get a better view of the action; a performance by Nottingham's
pub-rock heroes, GAFFA.
GAFFA had played Clarendon
on several occasions and I looked forward to hearing their repertoire
again. Cathy Hill and Kath Brown were big followers and knew
all the lyrics to their songs. The band warmed up with a rendition
of 'Other Peoples Jobs' KB stood directly behind me, droning
along in a flat monotone "...Other people's jobs are always
better, other people's jobs we just don't get 'em".
Standing beside KB was
a petite girl with a freckled face. She had dark ginger hair
which was cut into a neat bob. A late arrival on the first year
art course, this was Ruth's first day at college. She looked
on in disbelief as Kath Brown crammed a handful of sunflower
seeds into her mouth, puffed on a cigarette and launched into
a frenzied thrash.
GAFFA's dwarfish front-man; Wayne
Evans, delivered witty comments between songs. His local accent
was unintelligible to half of the audience who were from rather
better social backgrounds. "We wanted to do this next 'un at
the Nottingham Festival, but they wunt lerrus" he leered, cranking
up the volume on his bass guitar with the side of his hand.
"It's called 'Fat Councillor' ...one...two...three...four" Wayne
counted the band in and the floor thundered to the sound of
Mick Barratt's kick drum.
The irreverent lyrics didn't
go down too well with some members of staff who were standing
in the audience. There was alot of activity at the back of the
hall where the Principal Ken Loakes, his Chief Admin. Officer
and other head honchos voiced their disapproval to a Union representative.
The Principal stormed off in
a rage as Wayne launched into another blast of cheeky banter.
KB said that Mazzo once taught English at the college.
"We want to play yer a new song
nah, it's gonna be a smash-it single. You can hear it daan Imperial
on Thursdeh. Come daan un see us, cuz I don't think we'll be
playing ere again, eh John!" Wayne exchanged a knowing glance
with his keyboard player who was hiding behind a wall of plastic
beer crates.
Clearly embarrased, Mazzo buried his head into the controls
of his Korg mono-synth, turning the pulse modulation dial, until
the warm circuitry stabilised around Wayne's open 'E' string.
In the same instant Clive Smith's Fender Reverb rang out a tremulant
chord and metronome-Mick kicked-in with his bass drum for the
last number.
"...Livin' in a land uv a thaasund
dunces dancin'.." went the chorus. Some students began to drift
away, this wasn't a slight on the band's performance, merely
time for the afternoon lectures. We stayed until the last pangs
of feedback died away then raced up to the studios on the top
floor, where Pete Bench was waiting with his art history notes.
Before
commencing the afternoon lecture, he gave us some background
on GAFFA's keyboard player who had worked at the college as
a lecturer. We tried to squeeze more information out of Pete,
in order to delay the start of the lesson, but Pete would say
no more. "Lets press on" he said firmly, taking his seat beside
an old stove which was littered with stained mugs and dead teabags.
