Don't Call Me Clyde: Jazz Journey of a Sixties Stomper by Peter Kerr

Author:Peter Kerr [Kerr, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Oasis-WERP
Published: 2016-05-27T04:00:00+00:00

How and when I'd be able to retrieve the old crate was another matter, but one I was happy to leave in abeyance. Getting to Germany in time to kick off our first month's engagement was all that mattered right now, even though the unbargained-for cost of rail fares would blow a hole in my financial calculations for the entire venture. But this wouldn't be the last bothersome occurrence to blight what was turning out to be a pretty unpromising start to my career as a professional bandleader…

A few months earlier, a silky-tongued character, whom we'll refer to as 'The Lip', had wheedled himself into becoming the band's de facto manager. Smallish, straight-backed, moustache-sporting and pushy as a snake oil salesman, he had impressed me initially with his talk of the doors he could open for us. He reckoned we had the talent, he had the contacts and know-how, so it would be just a matter of letting him take care of things and we'd soon hit the big time. Unfortunately, The Lip's actions never did match his words, so I welcomed the opportunity to be rid of him that the German engagement presented. The trouble was, he succeeded in sweet-talking his way into coming with us – on wages! The pretext he quoted was that he would not only 'look after things' with the club managements we were already booked to play for, but would also act as our roving representative, responsible for securing further bookings in Germany.

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