Like many a young man who has arrived in London with a guitar case, I had dreams of becoming a star. Upon my arrival from Ireland in Stansted airport, I was greeted with the question “business or pleasure?” and proudly answered “both”. What a loser.
I was luckier than most in that I had my brother’s east London couch to kip on at first, but back in 2005 for a starry-eyed musician there was only one place to be – Camden Town.
I considered a dozen or so idiots to form a band with, and finally settled on the three least offensive. For my sins I was lead singer. Our band name? The Jude. We rehearsed like mad in Scar Studios on Castlehaven Road, sniggering amongst ourselves how we were so much better than any others rehearsing there; especially those fat bastards in Room 2 on Tuesday evenings (who went on to become The Magic Numbers).
After rehearsal we regularly shunned the uber-cool Hawley Arms for the more down-to-earth Good Mixer. I recall my bassist pointing out a wild-haired girl, who was always hustling pool and arguing with her friends. Given that I was quite new to the city, my only response was “Who the hell is Amy Winehouse?” For me, she was just the girl who knocked my pint that time.
Both venues heavily promoted to potential acts how their stages had seen the likes of Blur, Madness, and Keane, all bright-eyed boys like us needed to hear. In retrospect we should have asked more questions like: how many people did the venue get at 8pm on a Monday? The answer? Nine.
No matter, we swallowed our pride, while being ever more brainwashed by promoters on how it was in fact our job to promote the night – not theirs. Within months we climbed to the next tier of venue playing: ladies and gentleman, the Barfly.
The Barfly doesn’t boast about the acts that have graced their stage, and they really could. The Facebook badgering that most bands go through to get their ‘fans’ (also known as friends and family) to come to gigs pays off every now and then when you announce a gig at a venue like this. It was obvious now we were moving up in the world. Wembley, of course, was looming ever nearer.
One surprise was that the Barfly didn’t offer a very big backstage. The three bands of the night used what can only be described as a small cave, the size of a closet, filled with all the instruments for the night. So it was fairly uncomfortable when you tripped and fell on other band members upon first meeting. What started as an attempted handshake, combined with a trip over someone’s guitar, led to an awkward “crouch-butt”.
I have some very fond memories of the Barfly. We played with Carl Barat who turned out to be surprisingly down-to-earth, even offering advice on choosing management. Also lurking around was Gary Lightbody of Snow Patrol, who slipped into a heated debate with my drummer on who was the best Blue Peter presenter ever.
So what next? Well, Wembley, obviously. Although there may be a few steps in between. For all its virtues, the Barfly still had a small room. And an “up-and-coming” band like us wanted one thing… more fans.
Enter Proud Galleries, which offered a good 300 or so capacity. Contrary to our drummer’s insistence that we were not ready, I booked a headline Friday night slot in the main room. We played before the Bangers ‘n’ Mash DJs, our opportunity to expand upon our family and friends fan base, possibly even getting workmates down. Imagine such a thing. The truth is Proud was a great opportunity for our band and we grew a nice little following out of it.
Next? Well, we were lucky enough to play some major festivals such as Boardmasters and Standon Calling, as well as receive airplay and coverage from XFM, 6 Music, Music Week and Record of the Day. A particular highlight for me was a BBC Introducing residency on Radio 1: not bad for an unsigned band.
Like so many bands though, we went through member changes of Sugababes-like proportions and lost direction as music changed along with our personal tastes; we eventually called it a day. I imagine that many north London musicians have similar stories to tell – and scars to show – possibly even seeing their stints on the toilet circuit as a waste of time.
Personally? Knowing what I know now, if I met that kid with a guitar case in Stansted airport I’d still tell him, “Go for it”.
Gav Duffy now produces music as Raised by Wolves @Raisedby_Wolves
