Dirty Deeds by Mark Evans

Author:Mark Evans
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Biography
Publisher: Allen & Unwin Pty Ltd
Published: 2011-06-27T16:00:00+00:00

Finally, word came through that the remnants of Kossoff’s band, with new guitarist Geoff Whitehorn filling the great man’s shoes, were as ready as they’d ever be to tour with us. I don’t think it’s unkind to say that without their star, the tour was a non-event. However, there were a few key dates for us during that run of shows. May 11 and 12 were set aside for gigs at the Marquee. The venue held about 700 people, but the demand for Back Street Crawler, if ‘demand’ is the right word, had diminished in the wake of Kossoff dropping off the twig. The crowd on the first night was smallish, but, still, it was the legendary Marquee.

The Marquee might have been a small club, but its band room was positively miniature. We entered via a door at the end of the bar and went through a toilet before reaching the band room. Even with we five midgets in there it was crowded. This was the room where the black and white shots were snapped for the inner sleeve of our Dirty Deeds LP, so it has a little history attached to it, as nasty as the dump was.

We were doing the usual thirty-minute opening slot. We’d get on stage, plug in, rip into ‘Livewire’ and eventually wind up with ‘Baby Please Don’t Go’, where Angus would do his thing in the crowd, creating a nightmare for every roadie we ever worked with—remember, this was long before the day of wireless guitar set-ups. Our two sets at the Marquee went down well enough. There were plenty of ‘what the fuck is this?’ stares from punters, but we’d grown used to that. After all, we had a leering old bloke out front and a Steptoe-lookalike dressed as a schoolkid attacking his Gibson. What could we expect, really? According to one UK journo, ‘The venue’s usually somewhat bombed out and refugee-like audience was transformed into a happy and good-humoured one—why, there were smiles on people’s faces. If ever there was a good-time band, this is it.’ Those Marquee dates opened the door just a crack for us—now it was just a matter of kicking the fucker in.

There was no real relationship to speak of between us and Back Street Crawler. We certainly didn’t go out of our way to break the ice and figured that a couple of them were on a bit of a star trip. I’m not sure how playing half-empty clubs justified that, and this kind of ego crap certainly didn’t wash with us. But I got on okay with two guys in the band, both, strangely enough, named Terry Wilson. One was the singer, the other the bass player. They were good guys but were working under immense pressure—it couldn’t have been easy after Kossoff’s death. I mean no disrespect to Back Street Crawler, as they were just trying to hang on after losing their leader, but I don’t think anyone was expecting great things from them and that’s pretty much what people got.

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