I was on day-release from my job, meaning I spent one or two days a week at Southgate Technical College trying to educate myself a little more. I have no idea now what those classes were about. It’s a total blackout, but they probably had something to do with electronics, electrical wiring, or telephones. Possibly. But I was with a fun bunch of people, once again all boys my own age (17-18). But that didn’t matter as the college was mixed, as opposed to my old school.
One of the guys in my class looked like a hippy version of Harry Potter. He was always dressed entirely in black and had long, dark, curly hair and little round glasses. He was also quite short and drove a blue Reliant 3-wheeler car, like the one that inexplicably shows up in Mr. Bean from time to time. I’m being generous when I say “car”, but he had a driver’s license (I think) and it got him from A to B. While I was still crossing north London on the bus to get to classes.
One evening I went with “Harry Potter” back to his place in his Reliant. He’d bought a couple of albums. Back in the old analogue days, that’s how you found out about new music. He introduced me to The Yes Album (their third) and I got to hear Led Zeppelin IV for the first time (with Stairway to Heaven). That was a big event. Yes were new to me and I was astounded. Virtuoso musicians playing music with melodies that I could relate to. I loved the album so much that later I even tried to get my father to listen to it, something I’d never done before – and in fact never did again. But he thought it was “too exciting”. How could it be too exciting? Wasn’t that the whole point? I honestly didn’t understand what he meant.
Only a few months later Yes came out with Fragile, which was a progression from The Yes Album. A step up, both in the sound, the playing and the music. Yes already had three of my new heroes in their ranks; guitarist Steve Howe, bass-player Chris Squire and the fast, light-touch drummer Bill Bruford. But Fragile also introduced keyboard wizard Rick Wakeman. Much of Fragile consists of solo pieces, one from each band member and a bit self-indulgent, but listenable. The band tracks, however, are melodic, complex, exciting and works of genius. When Fragile came out Paul and I saw Yes at the Rainbow, formerly the Finsbury Park Astoria and where I’d seen the Beatles only 8 years earlier. We made sure to see them again at Crystal Palace after they released Close to the Edge the following year (with John McLaughlin and Jan Hammer supporting). Magnificent!
Several of my classmates were guitarists, oddly enough, and one had even invested in a brand-new Gibson Les Paul which he played constantly. A few years later he loaned me that guitar for a Gunrunner gig at the Brecknock, but the strings were so rusty that I could only use it on a couple of songs. My fingers scraping along the strings made me feel nauseous. When I asked about that, he told me he hadn’t changed them because he thought I might break one. What?
Two other memorable events come to mind from my Southgate days. One was that our class was given the chance to go to guitar lessons. Once a week for six weeks with Louis Gallo, an old jazz guitarist who had played big band jazz all his life. Those six weeks were decisive for me as a guitarist and I took a gigantic leap forward after 3 years of stagnation (and I should seriously do that again). We learned to play Django Reinhardt songs, with a new chord on every beat. It was tough, and we had to practice like crazy at home, but it gave results.
The other event at Southgate was piling into a car in the car park with five other guys on a lunchbreak and smoking a joint with all the windows closed. We laughed until the tears rolled down our cheeks, but we only did it that one time. Well, boys will be boys.