Gig 060/061 The Pirates, The Lurkers

The Pirates
Oxford College of Further Education
2 May 1978

The Lurkers
Oxford Cape of Good Hope
11 May 1978

The Pirates were a right bunch of old lags, having originally been Johnny Kidd and the Pirates and scoring hits in the pre-Beatles era, notably British rock’n’roll classic Shakin’ All Over. In the wake of Dr Feelgood a number of rocking r’n’b groups had appeared and maybe the Pirates felt they had a point to prove to the upstarts, anyway they’d been playing the London pub circuit for a couple of years to wildly enthusiastic responses and reviews. This was another gig I was dead keen to see.

The house lights go down to the sound of thunderclaps and a storm at sea, three figures take their places on the darkened stage, a piercing guitar intro and the stage lights illuminate three 30-something blokes dressed as, well, pirates, ripping into a ludicrously pumped-up reading of old chestnut Please Don’t Touch. They play for an hour and never let up, and it’s preposterous in the way that rock’n’roll often should be. I’m not sure their original songs are all that: there’s one called Don’t München It, a title of brilliant awfulness which can only be diminished by actually hearing it; they did a great version of Johnny Otis’ voodoo-referencing Casting My Spell but then rather over-egged the pudding by doing their own voodoo-referencing tune called, erm, Voodoo, which is diverting but a bit rubbish (‘I grab you by the throat, like a sacrificial goat’). So long as you don’t dwell on any of this it’s truly top entertainment.

The Lurkers were blokes from the less desirable end of Fulham – admittedly a difficult concept to grasp these days – who had obviously been around for a while and decided to hitch a ride on the punkwagon. Against all the odds, for a brief moment they were very good at it, debut double A-side Love Story/Shadow is an overlooked classic, and they had a loyal following who appreciated their utter lack of airs and graces. No bondage trousers (though singer Howard Wall had an ace mullet), no anthems for ‘the kids’, no political posturing, just some West London geezers who stumbled across a couple of great tunes and then rode that wave until it wouldn’t carry them any further.

The Cape of Good Hope was just around the corner from the Oranges & Lemons but the atmosphere couldn’t have been more different. Landlord Fred (‘the fascist’) was a profoundly unpleasant character who was eventually prosecuted for operating a racist door policy. It was said that he organised a 24-hour darts match on rollerskates to raise funds for the National Front, a story so bizarre it’s probably true. Another time on discovering that the group performing at his pub (Africa Black Star?) were a black reggae act he refused to let them perform so with the help of local punks they carried their gear round the corner to the infinitely more convivial Oranges & Lemons and played there, to by all accounts a great reception. Whatever, Fred was an arsehole. I turned up at this gig wearing a trilby and he said to me ‘take the hat off, you’re not at a football match now’. Wha? The gig was rough and ready, the sound was poor but the group were well up for it, there was a stage invasion and a jolly beery vibe. It was probably as much as the Lurkers had ever aspired to, though they did go one to appear on Revolver and Top of the Pops, and no doubt hardcore punk acts from the north-western US seaboard still cite them as a key influence. Fair enough, imho.