From Aces to Angels

Jokers Wild

Click images for details

I took my leave of the Golden Seven to join 'Johnny and the Jokers,' which by all accounts, was considered to be one of the 'big' bands in Derry. At this time the Derry Showbands, and indeed bands throughout Ireland, were fast approaching the pinnacle of their popularity. It was estimated that over thirty bands existed in the town at that time, and probably between six and seven hundred in Ireland as a whole. It was a common sight to see a convoy of brightly painted wagons regularly rolling out of the city.   
  A lot of bands picked up their individual members at home, but some weren't so lucky. They were collected at a pre-arranged point like the Guildhall or the Diamond. If  you weren't there on reasonable time, well tough luck, you were left behind. There were other designated points of pick-up as well, like the pub, the church, the bookies and believe it or not, even outside the 'bru.
  The labour exchange (to give it its nice name) in those days was a dirty, dismal and thoroughly depressing building located in Barrack Street (situated at the top of what is now the Lecky Road flyover). With one or two exceptions, it was staffed by dour, snooty and decidedly unhelpful people who could scarcely conceal their contempt for the lumpenproletariat. Oh how I pine for the days of the test check and the green earnings form. I really miss sitting in that smokey little room for hours waiting to make a fresh claim after every trip cross the sheugh. It's a long time since I've been in the dole so I wonder is it still the same today.
  The Jokers' line-up when I came on board consisted of Johnny 'Peel' Quigley (vocals), Tommy Mc Menamin drums, (Tommy was a Frank Sinatra fanatic and possessed every recording Sinatra ever made). He was also considered to be one of the finest drummers in Ireland. Tommy had one other talent and that  was the ability to do a good impersonation of the sixties T.V. cartoon character, Dick Dastardly's canine friend, 'Muttley.'
  The other members were,'Red' Jim Mc Dermott (tenor sax), Jim Quigley on trumpet, and I think it was Jackie Flavelle (a blues fanatic who now works for Downtown Radio) on bass. Both Tommy and Jackie were ex-Johnny Quigley All Stars members and prime movers in the establishment of the Jokers. At that stage the band was managed by Tommy's cousin Mickey, who also did the driving. The Jokers were originally a 'Co-Op' band but had reverted to employer/employee status by the time I arrived. I was introduced to everybody at a rehearsal in the West End hall on Lecky Road, now long demolished, and I must admit to feeling a bit inadequate as these musicians all had big reputions. But things didn't go too bad and that same weekend I was out on the long road to somewhere or other.
  The Jokers' transport was a Bedford 'Dormobile,' a slightly bigger version of the Utilabrake, with a large box to hold the drums built on to the roof. This box was adorned with a painting of a very mischievous looking Joker, apparently painted by the same artist who'd painted the mural in Altnagelvin hospital. They also had a very clever publicity photograph in the shape of a hand of cards. 
  Later they changed the Bedford for a Commer mini-bus, but I'll say a bit more about that later.

  Within a couple of weeks I was once again across the sheugh doing the rounds of the Irish clubs and loving every minute of it. Tommy often related a story about Mickey (the manager) which happened before I joined. Apparently they were in the heart of London one time when they got lost, so Mickey stopped the van to ask directions from a policeman. He asked the bobby could he direct him to 'Pic.,' and the policeman just looked at him bemused,                                                                             'Where?' he asked with a puzzled look on his face.
  'Pic.,' repeated Mickey.
  'Sorry I never heard of it.'
  'Piccadilly he means,' somebody shouted out of the van.
  'Well why didn't you say so?' the cop retorted slightly irritated and trying to direct the traffic, 'It's just up round the corner there.'
  'Thanks,' answered the boul Mick sheepishly and drove away.
  Tommy relates that everybody had a great laugh at that one, everyone except Mickey that is. Apparently Mickey thought he was being cool when he asked for directions to 'Pic.' becaused he assumed that that was how the Londoners referred to Piccadilly Circus. I suppose it would be the equivalent of an Englishman in Derry asking for directions to 'Car.' when he meant Carlisle Circus.
  In late August my girlfriend and I got married and her aunt kindly allowed us to move into her house in Wellington Street. In this short space of time, for reasons that I'm not privy to, the make up of the Jokers had changed radically. Gone were Johnny Peel, the two Jims and Jackie Flavelle. Gone also was the manager/driver. As far as I'm able to recall, their places were taken by Patsy Canney (son of Paddy on trumpet), Liam Black (trombone), Louis Conaghan on sax, Jim Phelan (bass) and Colm Mc Menamin (brother of Tommy) on rhythm guitar and vocals. A third brother, Tony, joined for a short time doing a bit of chanting. 
  With all the new personnel, we had to rehearse like mad to get a programme together. With the departure of Johnny Peel we were now just the plain old 'Jokers,' and with a bit of assistance from Colm, the management end was now taken over by Tommy himself. Colm originally was a drummer and played with various bands including my old pals, The Golden Seven and a band called 'The Capri.' When he first joined the Jokers he actually did a double drumming act with Tommy (which became our 'showstopper' and went down extremely well with the audiences), but after a few guitar lessons from myself he changed over to rhythm.
  Well every band worth its salt had a showstopper of one kind or another, and these ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous. They invited the crowd to stop dancing and gather up round the stage where they could fully appreciate the 'show' aspects of the showbands.
  I think that one of the showstoppers that especially impressed me in those days was the one performed by the Johnny Quigley All Stars where they changed suits half way through their programme, and did lively versions of numbers like 'Run Sampson Run' and 'Yakety Yak.' One of the worst was when I had the misfortune to hear a band Called 'The Silhouettes' one night in the Arcadia ballroom in Portrush. This lot wore balaclavas all night, and I'm not surprised for it was the most embarrassing show I'd ever seen. Actually I think their disguises had a dual purpose because they probably concealed their identities from marauding 'bru men as well.
  Another must for some bands was a 'Signature tune,' a piece of music that they felt had some relevance to their name and people when they heard it, would immediately think of that particular band. Ours was the Everly brothers song 'Bird Dog' the first line being 'Johnny is a Joker.' A bit contrived I know but it kept us happy.
  Generally speaking, when asked, the crowds eagerly rushed to the front and really got involved in whatever was happening on stage. But on other occasions, mostly in the more backward areas, they seemed totally disinterested. They completely ignored the gracious invitation and the males and females retreated to their respective sides of the hall leaving the bemused band to re-think their strategy. This gender separation to the wings earned some dancehalls the unenviable title of 'cattlemarkets,' because the lads stood along one wall and eyed up the ladies at the opposite one like prize bulls eyeing up the heifers.           
  During the next year and a half or so, as well as the aforementioned, a lot of other instrumentalists and vocalists came and went and a lot of interesting things occured. Over this period, trying to piece things together now gets a little complicated. I hope you don't think I exaggerate when I tell you that because things have become so muddled at this stage, I even contemplated undergoing regression hypnosis to try and help me remember.

<<Back ---- Next>>