Design Machine in the early Seventies had a studio in the basement of a house in Park Street W1. It was there because of Park Street's proximity to all the record companies. PYE in ATV house, Philips at Marble Arch, HMV Manchester Sq, CBS in Soho Sq. etc. The room was small approx. 12' x 12' into which we crammed 3 Designers and a finished artist. plus any student on work placement. The Grant Enlarger, an essential piece of equipment for any design group stood in the hall next to the toilets under the pavement. Come the 3 day week we were knackered because, we were only allowed the lights on for 3 days, suggesting that we could only work 3 days in 7. Only the Conservatives could come up with such a stupid plan. It would have been cheeper to give the power workers the money. However the wartime spirit lived on through us. Deadlines were deadlines and we prided ourselves on delivering. It is a strange thing that when money is in short supply people spend more on records, so we were doubly busy. I took out my Jones hand cranked sewing machine and ran up some blackout curtains. Behind these we beavered away producing sleeve after sleeve and adverts for all the breaking records to go into the music press. Some weeks over 50 ads of different sizes were art worked ready for the Friday lunchtime deadline of the likes of NME, Music Week, Record Mirror, Sounds, Billboard etc.
At first we used candles and tilly lamps, but eventually we thought, sod it, and turned on the lights.
They couldn't shoot us. Could they?
Sunday 30 December 2012
Saturday 29 December 2012
Philps records
My interview with Mike Stamford at Philips Records, lasted about 5 minutes. He gave me a proof of a sleeve that must have given him some grief in the production. He asked me how I would produce the art work. I gave him 3 ways one in the photograph stage, one in the art work stage and one that I wouldn'd have done it anyway as it was crap. In those days I had discarded socks as a waste of space. I had on my best Burtons suit, a white T shirt a large floral tie Sandy had made for me' suede shoes and no socks. he couldn't take his eyes off my ankles. He said thank you he would be in touch. 'Blown it again', I thought, but much to my surprise and delight, a letter arrived the next day, saying that I had to report to the studio in 3 weeks.
3 WEEKS LATER.
I sat in reception waiting for a call from Mr. Stamford to ask me up to the studio. Eventually I got bored and found my own way. There were 3 large double elephant size desk with high stools. loud music was blaring out from a stereo in the corner. At one desk sat a long legged blond, and at the other a big muscley figure with thick black curly hair and a gap toothed smile.
'Who are you?' he asked. 'The new designer', I said. Mike Stamford had omitted to tell them that he had hired me, and he was on holiday.
'Do you drink?' he said
'I have been known to have one or two', I said.
He looked at his watch. 11.30 'They are open'. So we repaired to the King and Queen on Edgeware Road where we had one or two. I was too pissed to see by 3 pm so I went home to start work the next day.
His name was Robin 'Nick' Nicol, and the blond Linda Glover, eventually his wife. They formed a company named Nicol Glover Ltd. which became Design Machine, with me as it's Creative Director as, Linda, a brilliant designer in her own right retired to the country to do the books and have babies.
By the way Philips bean counters made me redundant after 3 weeks, so I went freelance and made ten times the money out of the company per month than my salary was.
What do they know?
3 WEEKS LATER.
I sat in reception waiting for a call from Mr. Stamford to ask me up to the studio. Eventually I got bored and found my own way. There were 3 large double elephant size desk with high stools. loud music was blaring out from a stereo in the corner. At one desk sat a long legged blond, and at the other a big muscley figure with thick black curly hair and a gap toothed smile.
'Who are you?' he asked. 'The new designer', I said. Mike Stamford had omitted to tell them that he had hired me, and he was on holiday.
'Do you drink?' he said
'I have been known to have one or two', I said.
He looked at his watch. 11.30 'They are open'. So we repaired to the King and Queen on Edgeware Road where we had one or two. I was too pissed to see by 3 pm so I went home to start work the next day.
His name was Robin 'Nick' Nicol, and the blond Linda Glover, eventually his wife. They formed a company named Nicol Glover Ltd. which became Design Machine, with me as it's Creative Director as, Linda, a brilliant designer in her own right retired to the country to do the books and have babies.
By the way Philips bean counters made me redundant after 3 weeks, so I went freelance and made ten times the money out of the company per month than my salary was.
What do they know?
Saturday 24 November 2012
Phil Everly
'Not much at Easter but pray. But he could come to my flat on Sunday for a traditional Sunday roast dinner.' And I could show him the delights of the Kings Road on Saturday, just a spit from my place on the Fulham Road.
All through this time he kept saying that we have met before in L.A. and that he knew my face. As at that time I had a bright red moustache that covered most of the bottom half of my face, and hair down to my shoulders, I probably resembled half the hippies in California. We finished the shoot in about an hour and I dropped him off at the hotel soon after as he had to be in the studio that afternoon. I gave him my contact details, and he promised to turn up at the flat when he was done.
Sandy, my wife, was quite a fan of the Everly Bothers and started planning the meal, who would come, who would sit where.
We always had quite a few to lunch on a Sunday. I told her not to go to much trouble as he would probably not turn up. Of course I was right, but he did call and ask me to visit him in L.A.
I never did make that trip.
Thursday 15 November 2012
Sharon Osborne
In the 1970's Sharon was running the fan club for WIZARD the Roy Wood extravaganza. One of my drinking friends in the Fox and Pheasant in Billing Street. was Tommy the chip. His wife was a pretty girl with masses of black curls, and an almost completely round figure. Sharon looked exactly the same. Together they resembled two bookends fashioned as female Humpty Dumptys. She worked for Sharon's father, Don Arden (another story). and it was through her that Sharon asked me to design stuff for Wizard.
All went well until it was time to pay for the work. Don Arden had a reputation for not paying his bills and my partner at Design Machine, Nick Nicol, warned me not to do the work as the cheque would not be forthcoming. He reckoned , with out Sharon in the mix. Although I had to wait until Arden was in the buiding, Sharon would bowl into his office and demand the money calling him a tight c***. Occasionally the cheque would not be honoured, so she would raid his safe for the cash, which was stuffed with notes. The lads from the Fox & Pheasant all tradesmen, did work for Don Arden on his house on Wimbledon Common. They had the same experience. His reputation of carrying a gun and being prepared to use it held no truck with them. Come Friday the cash was paid or else. Sharon the go between made sure no violence took place.
Rumour had it that when she finally fell out with her father, she flew to California and sold his house there and kept the money. He may have owed her the cash for all I know, and he may have asked her to sell it for him, but I never saw her again after that, except on the television, a shadow of her former self, but still showing that nothing fazed her.
All went well until it was time to pay for the work. Don Arden had a reputation for not paying his bills and my partner at Design Machine, Nick Nicol, warned me not to do the work as the cheque would not be forthcoming. He reckoned , with out Sharon in the mix. Although I had to wait until Arden was in the buiding, Sharon would bowl into his office and demand the money calling him a tight c***. Occasionally the cheque would not be honoured, so she would raid his safe for the cash, which was stuffed with notes. The lads from the Fox & Pheasant all tradesmen, did work for Don Arden on his house on Wimbledon Common. They had the same experience. His reputation of carrying a gun and being prepared to use it held no truck with them. Come Friday the cash was paid or else. Sharon the go between made sure no violence took place.
Rumour had it that when she finally fell out with her father, she flew to California and sold his house there and kept the money. He may have owed her the cash for all I know, and he may have asked her to sell it for him, but I never saw her again after that, except on the television, a shadow of her former self, but still showing that nothing fazed her.
Thursday 27 September 2012
Bradwell on Sea Gig 2012 & Ken Mack in Blackpool
The Mack Big Band played in the village hall in Bradwell on Sea on the 15th September. We had them rocking in the aisles. This has become a regular annual gig. The locals love us, as they should. Look Bradwell up on the map and you will see that it is nearer Holland than London. So a professional big band playing in the Village Hall is a treat for them. No travel, no congestion charge. The West End came to Bradwell. One of our regular Saxes couldn't make it so we booked in a top player as a dep. Unfortunately he became emotionally tired and fell asleep on the stand, and occasionally woke up to honk a few random notes. Fortunately the rest of us were playing so well that no one in the audience noticed. The encore New York New York, finally woke him up to ask, 'how do I get home?
Stranger than truth!
Which reminds me of a Ken Mackintosh anecdote.
The ken Mackintosh band were playing a season at the Tower Ballroom Blackpool. One night the drummer didn't turn up and it was too late to book a dep. so the band when on the stand minus drums.
At the interval, Ken was in the bar and a guy came over to speak to him. Ken thought he was going to complain, but no he was full of praise for the band. Ken asked him what he thought of the drummer.
The man said, marvelous. Ken pushed his luck and asked him if the tempo was right.
'Spot on ', said the man.
No This is not a drummer joke, but the truth.
The Mack Big Band played in the village hall in Bradwell on Sea on the 15th September. We had them rocking in the aisles. This has become a regular annual gig. The locals love us, as they should. Look Bradwell up on the map and you will see that it is nearer Holland than London. So a professional big band playing in the Village Hall is a treat for them. No travel, no congestion charge. The West End came to Bradwell. One of our regular Saxes couldn't make it so we booked in a top player as a dep. Unfortunately he became emotionally tired and fell asleep on the stand, and occasionally woke up to honk a few random notes. Fortunately the rest of us were playing so well that no one in the audience noticed. The encore New York New York, finally woke him up to ask, 'how do I get home?
Stranger than truth!
Which reminds me of a Ken Mackintosh anecdote.
The ken Mackintosh band were playing a season at the Tower Ballroom Blackpool. One night the drummer didn't turn up and it was too late to book a dep. so the band when on the stand minus drums.
At the interval, Ken was in the bar and a guy came over to speak to him. Ken thought he was going to complain, but no he was full of praise for the band. Ken asked him what he thought of the drummer.
The man said, marvelous. Ken pushed his luck and asked him if the tempo was right.
'Spot on ', said the man.
No This is not a drummer joke, but the truth.
Sunday 3 June 2012
The Van
Ken was trained as an engineer before the war and so was never fazed by buying a wreck and doing it up.
The Van was an old Ford Transit diesel that he converted to petrol. This meant that it was under powered, so all the weight of the equipment plus 3 up front and as many as 4 in the back sitting on garden chairs, slowed it down to a maximum of 45 mph. At the time of owning this van in the twilight of the big band era Ken never drank alcohol. His driving was erratic never the less, and because of loose king pins on the steering the van weaved from side to side. It was considered unusual if he didn't get stopped by the police.
'Have you been drinking Sir?'
'Never touch the stuff'
'Mind if we take a look in the back'
Ken always opened the back doors. From there with the amps and speakers, music stands, etc., the police couldn't see the passengers behind all that stuff.
'I'm Ken mackintosh you know?' said Ken invariably.
Sniggers from the back.
'Are you smuggling illegals?'
'Only from fucking Yorkshire' Then added, 'Just musicians'
As we had all had a drink we were beside ourselves with laughter. 'Fair cop, officer'
'Lock him up'
The police eventually got to recognise the van and stopped it, but just for a chat, and to say that their Grandmother used to dance to him at the Palais.
The Van was an old Ford Transit diesel that he converted to petrol. This meant that it was under powered, so all the weight of the equipment plus 3 up front and as many as 4 in the back sitting on garden chairs, slowed it down to a maximum of 45 mph. At the time of owning this van in the twilight of the big band era Ken never drank alcohol. His driving was erratic never the less, and because of loose king pins on the steering the van weaved from side to side. It was considered unusual if he didn't get stopped by the police.
'Have you been drinking Sir?'
'Never touch the stuff'
'Mind if we take a look in the back'
Ken always opened the back doors. From there with the amps and speakers, music stands, etc., the police couldn't see the passengers behind all that stuff.
'I'm Ken mackintosh you know?' said Ken invariably.
Sniggers from the back.
'Are you smuggling illegals?'
'Only from fucking Yorkshire' Then added, 'Just musicians'
As we had all had a drink we were beside ourselves with laughter. 'Fair cop, officer'
'Lock him up'
The police eventually got to recognise the van and stopped it, but just for a chat, and to say that their Grandmother used to dance to him at the Palais.
Thursday 19 April 2012
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Sunday 19 February 2012
Joining The Ken Mackintosh band
After a few weeks of chatting to ken Mackintosh over a hot forge, he eventually told me that if I wanted to progress as a player I should join his rehearsal band. This band practiced every Tuesday in a Church Hall on Streatham Common South side. St Andrews I think it was. Neither my reading nor my competence on the sax was good enough for this kind of exposure. So I declined. However those who have known Ken know that "no" is not an answer he likes. So eventually I set off for Streatham, with some apprehension.
(The furthest south I had been since my trips to Thornton Heath to get my Camero serviced.) Without satnav a futuristic device that didn't exist, and a dog eared A to Z where all the roads I wanted were in the crease, I got lost. This did not go down well with Ken. 'Got lost !' Have you turned into a southern fop?'
He said to me across the work bench. I got lost the next week too.
Eventually I found the place and walked in during the second number. 'Better late than never, go over and sit next to Wally and see if you can follow the part.' The piece was 'This could be the start of something big, a Nestico arrangement. I got lost after the first bar. Ken sat behind a bench in front of the band, his worn alto case on top of it and his alto resting inside ready for action. Also on the bench was a small Casio keyboard an amp and a speaker, he used the built in drum machine to set the tempo when there wasn't a drummer. He rehearsed the sax solly a few times, said it would come, and called out another number. I thought it would never come. It was all too fast for me. And this was without my sax. Wally Glen, a seasoned pro, who was in 2nd Tenor chair, advised me to just keep my head down, don't answer back, and I would survive.
(The furthest south I had been since my trips to Thornton Heath to get my Camero serviced.) Without satnav a futuristic device that didn't exist, and a dog eared A to Z where all the roads I wanted were in the crease, I got lost. This did not go down well with Ken. 'Got lost !' Have you turned into a southern fop?'
He said to me across the work bench. I got lost the next week too.
Eventually I found the place and walked in during the second number. 'Better late than never, go over and sit next to Wally and see if you can follow the part.' The piece was 'This could be the start of something big, a Nestico arrangement. I got lost after the first bar. Ken sat behind a bench in front of the band, his worn alto case on top of it and his alto resting inside ready for action. Also on the bench was a small Casio keyboard an amp and a speaker, he used the built in drum machine to set the tempo when there wasn't a drummer. He rehearsed the sax solly a few times, said it would come, and called out another number. I thought it would never come. It was all too fast for me. And this was without my sax. Wally Glen, a seasoned pro, who was in 2nd Tenor chair, advised me to just keep my head down, don't answer back, and I would survive.
Monday 6 February 2012
My First Ken Mackintosh Experience
After my first run in with sax repairs at Lewingtons I realised that I could do it too. I had studied engineering at school passing the practical with ease, on lathes and milling machines etc. As it transpired the nearest College to learn this trade had its workshops at the end of my road in Wimbledon beside what is now the tram tracks. So I enrolled onto a course in sax repair. On the first day I took up a space at the end of the bench beside the forge. A week later I arrived early and set up in the same spot. After a few minutes a big man with fingers like sausages arrived and started to set up opposite me. When he had laid all his tools out he looked at me and said 'I usually sit where you're sitting'. I apologised said we should swop. He studied me for a second then said, 'You're not from around here are you ?' 'Nor are you I replied. 'So you know who I am then ?' he said. 'You're Ken mackintosh, I said. 'From Cleckheaton' It was the day that changed my life.
Sunday 15 January 2012
Speaking of Miles
Speaking of Miles. I was leaning on the barriers next to the Garden Stage at Nice. At my elbow was Dizzy. We were watching the George Wein all Stars. Miles had just finished his set and was being escorted back to the artists compound. As he came level with us Dizzy called to him. 'Hey Miles why do you play that shit ?' Miles without breaking stride raised his hand and rubbed his thumb and forefinger together in a money sign. It spoke volumes. Dizzy just chuckled and followed him into the artists area.
Thursday 12 January 2012
Miles Davis
I designed and had printed 3 lots of A2 posters of one set of each of Miles, Chuck Berry, and Lester Young, based on my drawings plus one set of Getz, Dexter Gordon and Johnny Hodges using black and white photos. On arrival in Nice Jim Campbell who was escorting Rose Hayes, decided he didn't want to have anything to do with the stall after all, and left me to set it up and man it.
I had a pitch next to the garden stage, against the arena perimeter. It was in full sun and blazing hot. The first day I sold one to a member of the Basie Band of Hodges, who asked for a pair of scissors and removed the part with Hodges on it, and discarded the rest.
The next day I had a visit from Miles's heavies, dressed in dark suits and shades, who pushed me up against the fence and stuck a gun in my ribs. 'Nobody sells pictures of Miles without our say so', said the one without the gun. 'But it's an air brushed drawing not a photo,' I said. The grip on my throat tightened. 'No one sells photos of Miles unless we say so, capiche ?
'Capiche', I said I'd had enough of being a lone stall holder. So I packed up and went to the merguez stall and had merguez and frites and a bottle of Stella.
I left the posters in the cellar of the block of flats I was staying in. The original airbrush drawing of Miles hangs in my kitchen in Wimbledon, a constant reminder of my brush with Miles Davis.
By the way for those who are interested you can buy a copy of the above posters from my web site
www.martyapple.com
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