The Grain 13

11. THE HAPPENING IN THE WOODS...

The day dawns, the sun is shining, a few of us are on site very early (as Sunday mornings go, that is), the rest drift in over the next couple of hours. The late morning / noon period was bedlam, as I recall; there were a few small jewellery / craft stalls being set up, a couple of good home-cooking and largely vegetarian food stalls (some people remember there being a burger van there, maybe there was supposed to be more than one, I'm sure we booked some kind of catering van that simply just didn't bother to turn up), and a lot of performers, technical types and aides running around in panic trying to get everything ready in time for the first trickles of our audience arriving. Shit... would anybody actually come? The weather was looking good, fingers crossed. Instruments had to be put in place, I think we went through the whole day with one drum kit for the sake of practicality (and extra thanks to whichever drummer it was that said okay to everybody else bashing the hell out of his pride and joy), but we were looking at some seven hours of performance to come, e.g. one hell of a lot of sound-checks. Which brings me to the P.A. guy. Exactly where we found him has long since escaped my memory, but (and I apologise for the use of this word in advance, but nothing less is apt) he was a total cunt from the moment he arrived. I don't remember his name, so we'll just call him TC from hereonin. "Nobody's gonna come 'ere," he barked, "I'm not fucking doing it, fuck this." And promptly started to walk back to his van. I reminded him that he'd taken the booking, that we'd been advertising the event for weeks, that it was for charity, that he was being a bit of a silly man (those possibly weren't my exact words) and should really honour the deal. "Well I fucking want paying now then!" I explained that that wasn't going to happen either as we hadn't collected a penny yet, but assured him he would get paid, whatever happened. He still took quite some persuading, then finally, and with extreme reluctance, he decided to stay put and began to set up. The attitude problem also stayed put for the day.

Issue # 6 - The Grain Festival Programme...

As was on 'the list', we would need a compere to fill the gaps and ensure the smooth transition between one band and the next. None of us actually knew any alternative comedians, but we couldn't risk using someone without experience, so it fell to me to fill the slot. I'd done a bit of cabaret work (yes, I know, just shut up!) myself, so turned to a friend I'd worked with many times, and who conveniently

lived in Frimley Green, one Gary Pym (left, also on the microphone in the photo to the right, light blue t-shirt and jeans). He was a very traditional club comic, mother-in-law gags et al, and was always going to struggle with an alternative audience, but he had known in advance what he was letting himself in for and was an absolute trooper from start to finish. And, of course, he too gave his time for nothing. Just as a point of interest, he went on to work under the name of Gary St. John, was half of Double Trouble (who I worked as a sound tech for in the early 90's) and performed that wonderful cod-Elvis vocal on "Rock And Roll Lifestyle" for our "Creavolution" CD in 1995.

TC conducts a sound-check while Gary Pym amuses the audience. That's Jay Time just behind him and me on the other side of the stage, so that's probably Shona Moments' back and Kate Twilight's sleeve in the middle!

Nick (baseball cap) and friends at the festival, photo courtesy of Pippi Halliwell (little cute looking dark haired girl to right of foursome), ta muchly.

☼ G R A I N Y M E M O R I E S ☺

"I suppose from all my memories of those days - from fly posting street signs, listening to you recording bathwater and selling tickets to strangers in Camberley town centre (White Hawk being one of them) - the best thing was a kind of unity amongst the Camberley sub cults of punks, goths, metalers, psychobillies etc. It was strange that something was happening. All the bands, Magic Moments, The Charles, Slack Bladder, Momento Mori, even managed to have a mini festival! Has that ever happened since? I doubt it. Sorry if I've waffled, but so many memories I could warble on forever, and I've not even mentioned seeing you at The Crypt with The Pink Fairies, whose singer was wearing a Sputnik shirt and I was tripping my tits off! Happy days."

Nick 'Morgan' Lewis ("The Eddie Irwin Song")

Below (also courtesy of Pippi); some happy campers, delightfully framed by Julia, the girl that Jamie Paterson was cheating on with that Vicky bird.

As the 2pm kick off time approached, I recall a certain disappointment that nobody from Greenpeace had turned up. Gary was a funny guy, but I couldn't imagine him making any great inspirational speeches with regard conservation and the environment. It's not that we expected some big nob from head office to come down or anything, but a couple of local supporters to pass out leaflets and say a few words would have gone down well. In their defence, I'm sure they would have got quite a few requests of that ilk and didn't have limitless resources to deal with them all. They did apologise and all was forgiven, but I think we were all a bit pissed off about it at the time. However, the show must go on! Greed, as late-comers, had graciously offered to open the show, so as not to disturb the already agreed running order. Sunset was scheduled for circa 7.15, so it was only really the headline act (The Charles, without argument) that would get to play a fully dark set. It made that second last slot an inconceivable relinquishment, but hindsight says we should have had them play later. You live and learn...