This may begin to resemble something more akin to a cross between an Oscar’s speech and an obituary than a history of your favourite rock god, but please persevere and hang in there. As anyone who knows me will attest, the journey may well be disorientated, the weather foggy and wet, and the sounds on the stereo not to your liking, but the payoff is always worth the wait. Ill keep it as short as I can. If I’ve missed anyone out, please accept my humble apologies. You’ll always be in my heart. Significant highlights include: my blissfully happy childhood – thanks mum, dad and brothers -, my excellent friends who will be with me forever and are too numerous to mention, though all highly significant in their own rights, my long suffering partner, Liz, daughter Elly and my cat Charlie, who have witnessed the genius, tantrums, tears and euphoria in all it’s gory detail.
The first band was started in around 1981 with me on buckets, Molly on broomstick bass and policeman’s helmet, and Mark Longley on vocals. We used to force Mark’s parents watch us perform/mime the entire Number of the Beast album in their back garden. We rocked hard and drank his mums orange cordial after the gig. Heady days indeed.
This planted the seed for bigger things: At the time, metal was the way forward, but I was also into Status Quo – there, I’ve said it – Queen, Thin Lizzy, AC/DC, The Buggles and Ottowan (D.I.S.C.O.). After watching a video of the last Lizzy line up in 1982, and in particular seeing guitarist John Sykes in his black leather and long blond hair (don’t forget, there was no such thing as being a closet gay, you were either a woofter or normal in those pre-PC days) and black Les Paul custom burning out the solo to Cold Sweat. That, I had decided, was what I wanted to do. All other dreams of being a lorry driver, meeting the girl of my dreams, being rich, successful and happy went out of the window in favour of a life of stardom, crushing disappointment, frustration, self promotion, self loathing and everything in between. After strumming a simple open tuning riff on an acoustic my elder brother, Adam had at home for a while, and liking the sound of it, a good friend of mine, Nigel, suggested I learn some real chords, and gave me a book of chord tabs that he’d written himself for me to learn. There really was every single chord that existed here. This was before I realised that you only need three and the rest is about looking good.
After I learnt the basics, the next turning point was my first guitar – a ‘Kay’ copy of that black Les Paul. It looked the business, and played ok. I was chuffed to bits when I got it for Christmas, and that was the last mum and dad saw of me for a while. Up to my room to ‘practice’ playing along to Lizzy, Metallica, Maiden and anything else that was part of the NWOBHM. I actually wanted to be a drummer, Nick trivia fans, but decided against it when I realised that I was rhythmically dyslexic, too good looking and I could do joined up writing.
The first proper band was Bleeding Hearts, with Molly (whom I still share a stage with to this day), Tim – bless ‘im, and Justin, who taught me all about vanity. We started getting a few gigs in the area and started the infamous ‘A1079 scene’ whereby any gig was usually in a village a couple of miles along that road. The first gig was at Wheldrake village hall and was a revelation. We also met Mark, who was the wildest person I had ever seen close up, and the DJ that was ‘Lasting Attack’. He had all the best tunes. Never mind the devil.
Soon after I joined Death Duties, a punk band with real principles. This was my first foray into politics and how bad the world is. I was a square rocker in a grey anorak. They were punks, vegans, hippies, anarchists, hunt sabbers, glue sniffers, dope smoking hooligans. But somehow I fitted in perfectly.
The third band I was in at that time was Shades of Earth, which was run by local svengali and celeb to the blue rinse brigade Dean. He was the first person to say, you can do that better – do it again. At the time we hated him for it, but the lessons learnt/damage done stayed with us for life.
This trio of bands were poles apart musically, but I always gave them my inimitable rock edge and boundless enthusiasm.
Death Duties turned into Unit 4, Bleeding Hearts collapsed in acrimony, Shades of Earth released a few CDs, and then gave up, and Benson was born under the name of Spud. This was when the single most important meeting in rock music of two like minded souls occurred. Andy responded to an advert I had placed for a bass player. It turned out to be a match made in heaven, and one of the best musical partner ships in rock was born.
Spud carried on for a few years, and was superceded by Skeleton Crew, a Thrash covers band, which included Molly, Gary on lead guitar, and Nick East. The climactic gig was a headline slot at the Arts centre (before it was a ‘look at me, aren’t I beautiful and (fake) tanned’ seller of overpriced lager to the Micklegate knuckle dragger crowd). People still talk fondly of that night, which was on the eve of me going off to Sunderland University to do a degree. Spud released an awesome battery of songs, and gigged relentlessly, with John Person, the extrovert and impossibly talented singer, formally of Shades of Earth, Matt Lavers on drums, and Nick East on bass. The line up changed a bit over the years, then the name changed to Benson, after I returned from my three year stint at University. I wasn’t completely idle during that time. I did find time to discover Mudhoney, then Nirvana, and sing for a South Shields death metal band named Energetic Crusher. The bass player went off to join the Wildhearts and inject loads of heroin into his veins. The highlight for me was supporting Hellbastard and Morbid Angel at a club in Newcastle. I was sacked because I couldn’t ‘sing’ like Napalm Death.
Spud carried on through a lean period, as Andy and I were the only remaining members, but we soldiered on until Kev Paver came along. We renamed the band Spacer, recorded an awesome tape at Submarine with Andy Wass, and then split after a couple of gigs.
Gooby left the north to pursue life with a (rather nice) hairdresser, and then returned to find himself replaced by Jim Denson. The new band was completed by Alan ‘Radar’ Ruder and Lee Telford. The band was named Benson, and continues to this day. I refuse to let it die. Benson recorded two CDs, some tracks for various compilations and did numerous gigs round York, including supporting Manson at the Octagon in Sheffield. Lee left during a weekend of London gigs after Alan and Jim stressed him out so much he couldn’t bear it any more. He went off to become a normal – and thoroughly decent- person.
After an aborted flirt with Bowie in a doomed band with Mad Stevie Roberts (hiya mate!) I received a call from Andy. We went for a few games of snooker, and pretty soon sealed the deal. I was to be the new guitarist in ‘up and coming rock covers band’ Stealer. Their previous guitarist had been driven away by Tivvy’s bad tempered ways, into the arms of a welcoming Barry Garrett. Cowboy boots and Stealer were not to be mixed until years later…
The next few years saw Stealer rise to the heady heights of playing pub gigs for £120 in front of 20 drunken psychos with lots of tattoos. Surely it can’t get any better. Watch this space…
……and they left me there to bleed to death on this great big wooden cross, with a crown of thorns, between two criminals.
