Common as Muck!: The Autobiography of Roy 'Chubby' Brown by Roy Chubby Brown

Author:Roy Chubby Brown [Brown, Roy Chubby]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Biography & Autobiography, General
ISBN: 9781405520478
Google: S9ub_1cfJ2MC
Amazon: B008EOA496
Publisher: Sphere
Published: 2012-08-01T16:00:00+00:00

I drove back to the Pescatora to meet the band at four o’clock. They were called the Maltese Bums and were famous throughout the island. Basso, the bass player, looked like Demis Roussos and had lived in England with an English girl.

‘Are you working for Benny Muscat?’ he said.

‘Benny Muscat? Who’s he?’

‘Listen, Roy, I don’t give many people advice but just do as Benny fucking tells you.’

Benny was obviously the boss. He had luxury cars, a beautiful yacht and three or four large restaurants on the island. They were some of the smartest buildings in Malta and Benny, when I met him, was one of the smartest men. He wore dark glasses and a sharp suit. All the men who surrounded him were dressed similarly, but their suits were made from slightly cheaper fabrics and cut less generously.

So I just went along with it. Every evening, I did a forty-five-minute spot at the Pescatora, then jumped in my Ford Anglia and drove to Mosta to do another forty-five minutes of comedy at The Whisper, another of Benny’s restaurants, opposite a church. One of the chefs would feed me at the end of my second spot, then I had the next day off until about eight p.m., when I had to report to the Pescatora.

After a few days, I got to know the bands at the two restaurants. They were both fantastic. Entirely self-taught, none of the musicians could read a note, but they were instinctive players and extremely good. I thought they were so accomplished because they had nowt else to do but practise. Then I got speaking to Paul, the drummer at The Whisper.

‘When you finish here,’ I said, ‘what do you do then?’

‘I play until twelve o’clock, then go home, get changed and go out with my father and brother fishing.’

Paul would fish from midnight until five or six o’clock in the morning. Then he’d go home and sleep until midday. In the afternoon, he worked in an office until six o’clock when he went home, got changed and ran to The Whisper in time for the band to start at eight o’clock. These three jobs netted him around fifty quid a week – about half what I would make on a good night at home.

I spent the first few days in Malta rehearsing with the band. I’d written a song called ‘Fat and Tall’ and I wanted the band to accompany me while I played the piano and sang. I was due to start playing at Benny’s restaurants on my fourth day in Malta. We rehearsed in the morning and then I headed for the beach, buying a loaf of bread, a couple of tins of beans, some cakes and biscuits and some cans of drink on the way. It was ridiculously cheap.

The beach at St Paul’s Bay was deserted and I lay in the sun for a couple of hours, thinking that this was the life. It didn’t get much better than lying in the sun

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