#and teddy & tommy & david have been to bars? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jamesedwinstark · 3 years

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Okay, as promised I am posting the James noncon. There'll be 2 posts.

I wanna be SUPER CLEAR that this is NOT CANON. This is just a horrible "what if" scenario that I needed to vomit onto a page.

The concept here is that Justin Hammer is holding James hostage. He infected a number of his employees with nanites that will kill them if James doesn't do everything Hammer says. James also has nanites in him which monitor his behavior and make it so he can't call for help.

The first thing Hammer wants to do with James is... go on a date. This is the date.

I’ll pick you up around 8. Wear something slinky ;)

That was the text James had received a few hours earlier. After days of waiting, of trying to pretend nothing was wrong, it was finally happening. James didn’t know if he was glad to get it over with, or if he wanted a few more days of relative normalcy. In the end, it didn’t matter what he wanted. He’d do as he was told.

It was best to get ready like it was a normal date. James picked out an outfit he thought counted as ‘slinky’: a long-sleeved shirt with cut outs in the back and on the shoulders, cropped so it showed barely an inch of midriff, pants which clung to his butt and drew attention where it was needed, and boots with just a little heel, accentuating his legs. He was supposed to be a trophy, not a whore. Right?

Clothes at the ready, James sat down at his vanity. He made up his face on autopilot, not doing anything special; it wasn’t as though this was Valeria or Loki, people whose preferences he knew intimately, who loved him, who he really wanted to please. He wished either of them were here.

While digging through his lipsticks, James pulled out a tacky, pink glitter gloss. He considered wearing it. It suggested youth, naivety, innocence. It said, “set me free; I’m just a kid.” That doesn’t matter. It only matters whose kid you are.

Well, the pink was worth a shot. James never knew what little thing might give him an advantage. He picked out some earrings inlaid with pink gemstones to match.

As he applied the gloss, his phone buzzed. He waved a hand and a screen popped up in front of him. He’d been mentioned in one of his groupchats, specifically the one for former Young Avengers, which he’d been invited to join in an honorary capacity, having spent a decent chunk of his childhood as something of a team mascot. He tapped the notification.

TEDDY: Hey! @James, some of us are heading to a bar, wanna come???

KATE: Jimmmminmy!

ELI: Wr already got satarted

TEDDY: Kate already got started

TEDDY: Yeh, lmao ^^

TOMMY: Jimmy ger Dow. Here and I’ll find u and unstable girl

BILLY: Guys, he doesn’t like being called Jimmy. Plz use his full name

BILLY: Jimbo come hang out with us

A tickle in the back of his head told him that the nanites in his brain were on high alert.

JAMES: As much as I love watching you get trashed and butcher my name, I can’t tonight

KATE: Booo u whoree!

DAVID: Plx help me jim I’m not drunk enough for this

James sighed. The point was for people to know about it, so he may as well say something now.

JAMES: I actually can’t. I have a date :)

The smiley face felt a little forced, but that was probably just projection. Nobody would question it. He was supposed to be excited. It was supposed to be believable.

BILLY: Oh

BILLY: Ok

BILLY: Have fun :)

TOMMY: Lmao seriously tho do ew even wana kno who is it THIS TIME

James clenched his fist in front of his face, and the screen disappeared back into his phone. Even his own friends thought he was an idiot when it came to love. Because you are. You deserve this.

There was almost an hour where James was dressed and ready to go, just pacing around his apartment, waiting. As the minutes stretched on, the nervousness twisting up his insides heightened. It’s no big deal. It’s just a date. Not even, it was a con, just for show. All he was doing was working a mark, playing a role. He was good at that. This would be fine.

He checked his phone when it buzzed again at 8:34.

Car’s waiting. Hurry that cute little ass down here

James took a deep breath, grabbed his coat and headed out the door. While taking the elevator down, James replied.

On my way

There was a white limo parked outside James’ building. James knew it was where he was expected to go, because it radiated a nervous, vicious excitement that made him dizzy. As he approached, the driver stepped out and held the door for him. He had nothing but contempt for James.

“Thank you.” James told him sweetly, flashing him a demure little smile. The driver’s contempt was eaten away slightly by another, even less comforting feeling: pity. He wondered how much, if anything, the driver actually knew about what was going on.

Justin Hammer was waiting for him inside, and if he’d been any happier he would have been bouncing in his seat. The inside of the car smelled a little too strongly of Hammer’s cologne. James sat down across from him and Hammer looked him up and down appraisingly. He was… disappointed. Oh no.

“Is that what you decided to wear?” He asked.

James looked down at his outfit. “What’s wrong with it?”

“I mean, would it kill you to show some more skin?” Hammer whined. “I thought you kids wore skirts now.”

A skirt suggested something. Easy access. Hammer wanted people- James’ Dad most of all- to see James’ bare thighs and know who was getting between them. It seemed that he had been wrong; he was supposed to be a whore.

“I’m… sorry.” James said. “I didn’t know that’s what you wanted.”

Hammer sighed. “I think I’d better take a more hands-on approach to your outfit choices from now on.”

“If that’s what you want.” James acquiesced.

“When we get to the restaurant, there are going to be paparazzi.” Hammer explained, barely acknowledging that James had spoken. “I may or may not have tipped somebody off. You're gonna put on a good show for them, alright? I wanna see a big smile on that pretty face. Really sell how infatuated you are with me.”

James huffed. “I know how to play my role, Hammer. This is what I do.”

“Come on, sweetheart. We're in love.” Hammer said, unpleasantly pleased with himself. “You can call me Justin.”

“I was planning on doing that in public.”

“Well, I want you to do it all the time.”

That was all that needed to be said on the matter.

The car pulled up to the restaurant, and Hammer stepped out first. He held the door for James, making sure that the paparazzi who had indeed turned up saw him doing so. James played his part, put on a cutesy smile and batted his eyelashes as he got out of the car and wrapped himself around Hammer’s arm. As soon as he did, he felt Hammer get frustrated, and saw him glance down at James’ shoes. James was already an inch or two taller, and the slight heel made that little bit of difference all the more noticeable. He’d already messed up again. This might be a little more difficult than he thought.

The handful of paparazzi that had gathered and were being ushered away, unhurriedly, by the restaurant staff, barked questions at James, which he ignored. Their camera drones buzzed perilously close to get good shots of the absolute travesty of a date they were witnessing. James could practically hear the nasty headlines they were concocting in their heads about him and his wonderfully tabloid-worthy habit of getting into bed with the ‘wrong’ sort.

They were at the door when James got the sense of someone else trying to get his attention, but not in a mean way. He heard a child ask, “Is that really him?”

James turned on his heel to see a woman with a little girl, maybe five or six, looking at him. They both got very excited when they realized he’d noticed them. Abandoning his annoyed date, James jogged over to the pair.

“I’m really sorry to bother you Mr. Stark, but we heard you were going to be here and…” The woman began sheepishly, “You’re her favorite.” The little girl buried her face in the woman’s pant leg.

James laughed, sincerely this time. “I always have time for a young lady with such impeccable taste.” He said, before getting down on the little girl’s level. “I’m James, what’s your name?”

The little girl looked up questioningly at the woman- presumably her mother- before replying “Sarah.”

The paparazzi took some interest in what he was doing, but they weren’t as thrilled about it. Local Superhero Nice to Child wasn’t as attention-grabbing a headline as Cap and Iron Man’s Son Does Something Awful, Again.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sarah. Did you know Sarah was my grandmothers name?”

The little girl shook her head.

Hammer was getting exponentially more annoyed by the second, but he couldn’t exactly drag James away from a little kid in front of all these people. Not without looking like the second coming of Ebenezer Scrooge anyway. Still, James didn’t want to push his luck, he had to wrap this up quickly.

“Are you really the Golden Avenger?” Sarah asked.

James snapped his fingers, and a shower of yellow sparks spilled from his hand. “I sure am.”

Joy erupted in Sarah’s chest like fireworks. “We’re the same!” She squeaked.

“She has epilepsy.” Her mother explained. James nodded.

Seeing that Sarah’s ears were pierced, he took the pair of star-shaped pink sapphire studs out of his ears and pressed them into her hand.

“That’s for you. Wash them before you wear them; it’s not sanitary otherwise.” James said. “Now, Sarah, this is important. I believe in you, I want you to believe in yourself, and always, always listen to your parents. Do we have an understanding?”

Sarah nodded.

James hurried back to where he had left Hammer waiting, feeling the impatience directed his way. As soon as he was close enough, Hammer grabbed him, clamping a hand firmly on James’ butt (which the paparazzi adored) and dragging him inside.

“I know that wholesome image is how you sell lunchboxes and all,” Hammer hissed in his ear, smiling as he did so, “but don’t keep me waiting, ever again. You got that?”

A thousand explanations and protests died on James’ tongue. While talking to the kid, he had briefly forgotten that someone else owned him. Briefly.

“I got it. I’m sorry.”

Once they were inside, James shed his coat. Seeing his exposed back made Hammer a little happier with James’ outfit. It was almost… uncomfortable how much happier seeing that skin made him. James brushed it off as just more of Hammer’s weird overenthusiasm.

“Is this more what you were thinking in regard to the skin thing?” James asked. He kept his tone light. “Specifically mine and showing more of it.”

“It’s definitely better.” Hammer agreed.

This was good. If they could get along while fake-dating, eventually Hammer would have to start seeing him as a human being. He would like James, if only James provided the camaraderie Hammer had always craved from James’ Dad, camaraderie which had always been denied to him. Then he’d let James go.

The maitre d’ seated them by a window, which meant more pictures of them together, and more acting for James. While they were across from one another, Hammer fixated on James’ eyes. He didn’t seem to be able to stop looking at them. You didn’t have to be a super-genius to figure out why. You just had to look very, very similar to one.

Nobody brought them menus.

“I took the liberty of ordering ahead of time.” Hammer boasted. “I’m gonna take good care of you tonight, don’t you worry.”

Again, James got a weird reading from Hammer. Something in the back of his head was trying to warn him about something. Danger, James Stark! Danger! Danger! Well, of course he was in danger, somebody else had his life in their hands. It’s more than that, don’t be stupid.

The waiter brought out their meals. James’ was not something he recognized as food, but he’d never been much for fancy cuisine. He’d survived this long mostly on chicken nuggets and takeout. Still, he picked at his dinner, not wanting to seem like he was ungrateful or that he disapproved of Hammer’s choice. He remembered what his Pop had told him about growing up in the Depression, and all the garbage they’d choked down trying to survive. I was 25 before I realized sawdust wasn’t actually an ingredient. If Pop could do that, James could work through something that had been meticulously crafted by a trained chef. Don’t be spoiled. You’re an Avenger, not a princess.

“Do you prefer red or white wine?” Hammer asked. “I know the sommelier personally. She’ll get us some of the good stuff.”

“I can’t drink.” James said, and when that led Hammer to get irritated, he explained, “Because of my condition.” It still wasn’t good enough. “But, I suppose one glass won’t kill me.”

The sommelier who poured their drinks was nauseatingly gracious to Hammer, but James could tell that she didn’t actually like him. Just has the driver had done, she regarded him (internally, of course) with contempt. James started feeling a little bad for Hammer; everyone around him was so fake.

Hammer raised his glass. “To us.”

Oh my gosh he can’t be serious. James raised his glass in answer, smiling through the pain of secondhand embarrassment. Having never really had more than a few sips of alcohol at any one time, James was unused to the taste of wine. It was nasty. He powered through it. People actually drank this stuff for fun? All it did was remind him that, right now, his friends were getting sloppy wasted on any number of unpleasant-tasting concoctions. He was supposed to be there, not here.

“Babe, has anyone ever told you you don’t talk much?” Hammer asked.

“I can honestly say nobody has ever said that to me in the history of my life, no.” James replied.

“It’s something you should work on.” Hammer continued as if James hadn’t spoken at all. “And smile more. Jeez, kid, you’re bumming me out, you know?”

James grinned. “Right, cameras are still on us and all.”

“And you’re having fun, aren’t you?”

He wants it to be real. Give him what he wants. “Yeah, of course.” He wants it to be real. Why did that sit so uneasily?

“This isn’t the sort of place I’d take just anyone.” Hammer gestured around at what was, admittedly, a very classy place. “This is the five-star treatment. It’s just for people I really want to undress.”

“... I’m sorry?”

“It’s for people I really want to impress.” Hammer leaned in. “You’re a very special kid. I’ve been waiting a long time to get my hands on you.”

Hammer was feeling at him very, very intensely. It was like being in a sauna, having him so close and emitting the thrill of power he was getting from all this. Power and… something else.

James laughed, clear and seemingly unforced. “I guess you’ve got me.”

“I guess I do, don’t I?” Hammer leaned back and just reveled in it for a moment. What he was feeling made James little ill. James took a drink of water. It was getting oppressively hot. Hammer was getting oppressively hot… for… James.

He was aroused. This, holding James hostage, hurting his Dad, was making Hammer horny, and he had James right here… he could do anything he wanted. He wants it to be real. How real? How real was he going to make it?

Hammer started talking at James, telling him about some impressive thing he almost certainly hadn’t actually done. James only half listened, his mind was occupied, trying to peel back the layers of Hammer’s intention like he’d been taught to do. Find and identify all the tiny little things Hammer was feeling at a given moment. His attraction was superficial, the real source of his arousal was the sense of ownership he had, of victory. It led to feelings of excitement, anticipation, expectation… certainty. He was certain.

"Excuse me, Justin." James tittered during a break in the ‘conversation’. His smile felt like it would crack his face. "I need to go powder my nose."

Hammer took a sip from his wineglass. "Ok, you can go. Don't take too long, though." Again, that sickening rush washed over him. "I want to get out of here soon."

James hurried away from the table. Soon. His vision blurred the second he stood up, so he navigated his way towards the bathroom mostly through magic. Once there, he clung to the nearest sink for support. Trying to combat the intense nausea that had overtaken him, he splashed cold water on the back of his neck. It was no use. Throwing himself into the nearest stall, James retched violently and puked up what little he had eaten. Cold, clammy sweat started to bead on his lip and the back of his neck.

He's going to rape you. It was not a matter of if. He was going to do it, certainly.

James really was stupid to think it would be anything but this. Why would Hammer be content with just letting everyone think he and James were lovers, when he could make it a reality? This would be the ultimate victory over Tony Stark: raping his baby.

James needed his Daddy. He needed to be rescued, to be held in strong, safe arms like he was a child again. He needed what was about to happen not to happen.

It was going to happen anyway.

Too much time had passed. James got up off the bathroom floor and brushed off his knees. He went to the sink and swished water around in his mouth, getting the acrid taste of vomit mostly cleaned away. This is going to happen to you, and you're going to let it. You'll be fine. You're a survivor. Stark men are made of iron.

He touched up his makeup, dried off a little and, as ready as he'd ever be, headed back to his table.

"There he is! I was starting to think you'd fallen asleep in there." Hammer remarked as James returned to his seat. Hammer was expectant. What was he expecting? Was that supposed to be a joke? It was. James giggled. His mouth was so dry. He sipped at his water. Even that made his stomach turn a little.

"Anyway, where was I? Oh right..." Hammer continued his anecdote in between bites. James smiled and nodded sweetly, his own dinner rendered inedible. He kept trying to get water down, but nothing seemed to help the thick sticky feeling on his tongue and down his throat.

His left hand was clenched in a fist under the table. I could burn a hole right through you just by staring. I could cook your brain in your skull with my fingertip. I could... golly, I really could beat you bloody with my bare hands.

"You're not eating?"

James fluttered his eyelashes. "I guess I'm not very hungry." He explained.

"So you don't want dessert?"

"No thank you."

Hammer's excitement hit James like a freight train, but it wasn't normal excitement. It was all twisted and wrong. He reached out and grabbed James' hand, running his thumb over James' knuckles in a gesture that, from the outside, might appear tender.

"That's ok. You and I are going to have a different kind of dessert. Doesn't that sound good?"

James swallowed thickly, eyes trained pointedly at the middle distance. His smile faltered just a little, and when he spoke, his voice was small, barely audible.

"Yes." He nodded weakly. "Yes."

How exactly they got from the restaurant back to the car, James wasn't sure. He seemed to drift, only barely aware of his coat being wrapped around his shoulders, paparazzi snapping his photo as he stepped outside, the car door being held open for him while he was ushered in like a curious child into an unmarked white van. Smile. You're having a great time. Hammer clutched him every step of the way, as though James were a fish caught in his talons which might slip back into the ocean and swim home before he could devour it.

In the car, Hammer sat next to him, practically right on top of him. James’ stepford smile dissolved the second they were alone together, but Hammer didn’t seem to have noticed. His hand was on James’ knee, inching up his thigh, as he whispered in James’ ear.

“I booked us a room uptown.” He was close enough that James could feel Hammer’s breath on his neck. “I thought we’d do something a little special for our first time.”

“Justin, nobody can see us.” James knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as the words came out of his mouth, but he had to try something. If he made it seem like he didn’t understand, he could say no without actually saying ‘no.’

Hammer’s joy evaporated, replaced with white-hot rage. He gave a short little laugh. “Now, baby, I took you on this nice date and all. I’ve been a real gentleman, and I just think it’s fair,” He squeezed James’ leg painfully hard, “that you put out. Nobody likes a tease.”

“...Ok.”

The anger didn't subside, and James was terrified of what might happen if he let Hammer stay too mad for too long. He plastered a smile back on his face.

“I can't wait.” Was his voice shaking? Had it cracked? “I can’t wait to make love to you.”

His heart was racing. He'd said it, and now he couldn't unsay it. He couldn't stop hearing his own words echoing in his head. Make love. This was the furthest thing from love he could imagine.

The hand on James’ thigh slid up to paw at his groin, and Hammer leaned in to kiss him on the neck. He sucked at the skin there (stop it) like he was trying to leave a mark (don't), and, honestly, he probably was (get off of me). James wanted nothing more than to blast a hole in the car and rocket into the night sky. He reached out, laid a gentle hand on the back of Hammer’s neck and pulled him ever so slightly closer.

“Yeah, good, Tony.” Hammer moaned against his neck. “Just like that.”

James clenched his eyes shut. It didn't seem like Hammer even noticed he'd said anything wrong.

When he was satisfied that he'd left an adequately visible hickey, Hammer licked a wet stripe up to James’ mouth and forced his tongue inside. Fighting the urge to spit the flicking, invasive appendage out of his mouth, James hummed as though turned on. Hammer leaned in, making James take a deeper mouthful of that fleshy, wet thing.

This is just his tongue. How are you going to deal with his…

They were at the hotel before James knew it. Hammer paraded him through the lobby, hand firmly attached to his buttcheek. By some miracle, James managed to continue playing his role, leaning into his ‘date’ and giggling whenever Hammer whispered some horrible, obscene thing in James’ ear. It was all he could do to keep from shaking.

When they got up to the room, Hammer slid James’ coat off for him. It seemed like a normal enough gesture, something a real boyfriend would do, something his real boyfriend had done before, but all James could think was that he was already being undressed. He was being stripped down to nothing.

The suite itself was unnecessarily opulent. Everything sparkled. There were two rooms connected by an archway, the first being home to a sitting area populated by fashionable, uncomfortable-looking furniture, an equally painful-looking dining area, and an oppressively shiny kitchenette with a wet bar. The bar was where Hammer headed, brushing his fingertips along James’ exposed back as he did so.

“I'm going to make myself a drink, do you want anything?” He asked as he got out a glass and a bottle of scotch.

“I'm ok.” If James could get drunk, he would have used any means possible to numb himself. “I have to go get ready.”

Without looking up from his drink, Hammer waved him off. James went into the other room, the bedroom, making a point not to look at the bed. The bathroom attached to the bedroom, and he retreated into it.

Halfway through peeling off his clothes, James felt the urge to vomit again. He knelt in front of the toilet and heaved for a while, but nothing came up. He was too empty. Hollow.

The fancy shower was sufficient for James to get himself clean. Ordinarily, he did this ahead of time in his own shower, because he knew what was coming. He hadn't been properly warned this time, or maybe it had been obvious all along and James had let himself remain in denial. Whatever the case, he didn't want to incur Hammer’s wrath now by not giving him what he expected. He wants the girlfriend experience. James found himself laughing out loud, bitter, strangled noises coming out of his throat. He doubled over and puked into the shower drain.

Would Hammer get mad if James took too long? He reached out his mind and found the man still vibrating with his strange, unpleasant happiness, only a little impatient. Biting his tongue, James reached down and forced himself to work past his revulsion and finger his hole open. It would be easier if he was prepped. It would hurt less. James wondered if Hammer had even brought lube.

After stalling for as long as he could by washing everything several times over, he finally left the bathroom in nothing but a towel. Putting his clothes back on would only get him in trouble. The first thing he saw as he stepped out was the bed. It hit him then. Really hit him. This was actually going to happen. It was going to happen in a few minutes. He folded in on himself, crumpling to the floor. He knew he shouldn’t, that he needed to keep smiling, pretend he wanted it, but he couldn’t stop himself. Desperately, helplessly, James started to cry.

Sensing Hammer approaching, James scrambled to his feet and quickly wiped his eyes, but it was too late. When he walked in the room, Hammer spotted James’ red, tear-streaked face. Again, burning rage emanated from him, tinged with a sense of betrayal. There wasn’t an ounce of guilt or pity inside him. He strode over and cupped James face in his hands a little roughly.

“It’s ok to be nervous.” He said. His voice masked his anger only thinly.

James stared at the ground and nodded, swallowing back more tears. Hammer took hold of one of James’ wrists and guided his hand down to feel his erection through his pants. It wasn't as small as James had hoped. I could castrate him right now. Burn him. He couldn't really, though.

“Feel that, sweetheart? That’s for you.” Hammer cooed. “That’s going to be inside you, and you’re going to love it. Trust me, you’re going to love it.”

“O-ok, yeah. I want-” James’ voice cracked, and he lost it. He was sobbing again, stammering, “Please, Justin, you don’t have to do this. There's a better way to... I can help you. I understand-”

“Stop crying!” For the first time all night, Hammer actually showed how angry he was, just below the surface. James bit his lip to keep any more sobs from slipping through. Hammer continued, “You don’t get to say no to me. Shut up, and go lie down on the bed.”

James whimpered. “Please…”

“Lie down on the bed. Now.”

There was, in fact, lube. As expected, there was minimal prepping. Then, it was inside him.

James tried to go somewhere else while it was happening. He was overwhelmed by the oppressive smell of too much cologne, the words being moaned at him (“Oh, yeah, Tony, fuck, Tony!”), the taste of scotch in the kisses that kept being applied to his mouth, as though this were something sweet and passionate, as though it wasn’t what it was. Most of all James was overwhelmed by the nauseating self-satisfaction that smothered him, threatening to choke the life out of him.

There was a glass chandelier above the bed. It swayed gently and cast diamond shapes on the hotel ceiling. James counted them out: one, two, three, one-e-and-a-two-e-and-a-three-e-and-a around and around the chandelier in a pattern that just wouldn’t stop.

It did stop, eventually. Hammer cried out and spilled into him. James’ mind instantly supplied the image of that fetid, mystery liquid which collected in the bottoms of trash bags and gushed out if the bag was accidentally punctured. Sated and victorious, Hammer gave a few final thrusts (Just stop. Please just stop) and his pleasure walloped James right in the chest. James came, despite himself, sticky and disgusting all over his abdomen.

“Holy shit. I made you come on just my cock.”

Bile rose in James’ throat. He swallowed it down.

“Smile, baby.” Hammer sighed, “I know that was good for you. See, I told you you’d love it.”

When James didn’t respond, Hammer started to get angry. James sensed the heat rising up in his chest. Don’t be stupid. Keep him happy.

“Yeah, of course I did.” James answered brightly. It was easy to slip into being someone else. He couldn’t stand the thought of himself right now. “You’re really… really good. I’m just a little… stunned. Because I enjoyed it so much.” He found himself giggling airily, like some lovestruck floozy. Where was that coming from?

Hammer rolled off of him and lay on the bed, sighing happily. He was floating on a wave of orgasmic bliss and the satisfaction of sweet revenge, in his mind long overdue. Of course he was happy now, but once his head cleared and he could see what he had done, surely remorse would start to set in. Surely.

“That’s good. I’m thinking maybe next time you’ll show a little more enthusiasm.” Hammer said. It was an order. “I wanna see how much you like it.”

Next time… next time. “Ok, I can do that.” James agreed. “I’ll do whatever you want.” Next time. It was all James could think about. The next time this happened to him.

“Good boy.” Hammer reached over and gently stroked the back of his knuckles down James’ cheek. There was no gentleness behind the gesture, however. All James could feel was glee. Sadistic, victorious glee. Hammer was congratulating himself for this.

Surely, surely he would feel bad about it in the morning.

The smugness and delight radiating off of Hammer’s body finally became too much. It felt like James was absorbing something toxic, being so near him. He sat up in bed like a reanimated corpse, restless and agitated.

“I need to get some-” No. Try again. “Can I go out and get some air? Please?”

“Sure babe.” Hammer acquiesced. “Just don’t fly away.” He said it with a smile, but it was a threat. Everything was a threat. Everything was dangerous.

James slid out of bed feeling, perhaps for the first time in his life, ashamed of how naked he was. His clothes were on the bathroom floor. It was like a different person had taken them off. It hurt to stand, to walk. It just hurt.

“Uh, excuse you?” Hammer said, stopping James in his tracks.

What now? What more could he possibly want now? James turned to see him sitting up on his elbows, staring at him.

“Yes, Honey?”

“I’m letting you do something you want. What do you say to that?” His tone was condescending, like he was scolding a child. No, more like he was training a dog.

“Thank you.”

Seemingly satisfied, Hammer laid back down. James wasted no time in scurrying to the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. It felt good to finally be alone. A tear fell down his cheek, but he fought the urge to cry in earnest. He didn’t think he could stop if he started.

It’s fine. These things happen. This time it happened to you. James kept it together as he wiped the… as he wiped off his stomach and the insides of his thighs. Then he gathered his clothes off the floor and, hands shaking, covered himself up again. He was safer now; there was a barrier, however thin, between his skin and Justin Hammer’s hands. It’ll be fine. It’ll be okay. It didn’t seem fine. He could still feel it inside him. He felt where he’d been pried open and then invaded…

You’re ok you’re ok youreokyureokyourokuro

The bathroom floor was still wet. Had so little time really passed since he’d showered? He needed to get up, but he couldn’t force his body to move. It was something like being trapped in a frozen lake, and how you couldn’t swim to the surface because of the shock, so you just drowned. He had hoped that he’d feel better after it was over, but it wasn’t really over, was it? It was never going to be over.

A long time passed before he could stand up and walk out of the bathroom. When he did, he found Hammer already asleep. Good. He didn’t think he could fake his way through any more niceties.

He pictured himself taking a pillow off the bed and pressing it down on Hammer’s face. James was much stronger; he could hold Hammer down with his magic and he wouldn’t be able to fight back. He would just choke (painfully) and die (terrified) and James would get that indescribably terrible feeling he got whenever a soul was extinguished in front of him. He shuddered just thinking about it. No, he wasn’t capable of that, and even if he was, he knew that if Hammer died, everyone infected with his nanites would die too, including James.

James’ coat was hanging in the next room, and he pulled it on and headed for the balcony. The added layer provided him with a little more safety, but didn’t do nearly enough to block the cold wind outside from attacking his damp clothes.

For a while, he just stared at the street below. The people walking down the sidewalk or riding in their cars were too far away for him to read, so he could just imagine that they were all happy and carefree. The couples striding hand-in-hand were all deeply in love, the children were totally safe with parents who had no enemies and never made mistakes, the commuters were on their way home, or maybe to a friend’s house. Nobody had to do anything they didn’t want to do.

James pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket. It was an almost Pavlovian response at this point, smoking after sex. It was normal, felt normal.

That wasn’t sex, his brain supplied that was not sex.

No, but you did have an orgasm.

The balcony was decorated with plastic plants in tacky stone pots, and James hunched over the nearest one and dry heaved until he finally vomited, the effort of it wracking his whole body. It’s not my fault I came. It’s not my fault. I’m not just letting this happen. I don’t have any choice.

He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. Ok. He got all the evil out of him, and it was ok now. He looked down at the now-ruined fake plant and thought, guiltily, of whatever underpaid hotel employee would have to clean it up.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled at nobody as he stood unsteadily.

Leaning against the edge of the balcony, he stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit the end with the tip of his finger. The first inhale settled his nerves immeasurably. Things were bad, yes, but James knew he could find a way out of this. He was smarter than Hammer, all he needed was a plan-

“Prohibited substance detected.” A voice rang in his head.

What?

“Prohibited substance detected.” The voice said again. “Desist or you will be punished.”

“I don’t know what that means.” James snapped at the AI.

“Prohibited substance detected. Desist or you will be punished.”

“What substance?” James hadn’t eaten anything at dinner that he hadn’t been specifically instructed to, hadn’t had anything to drink that he hadn’t been given. What arbitrary rule could he possibly be breaking? Unless… James glanced down at the cigarette he’d been idly puffing on. No. No no no no no…

“Standby for punishment.”

“Wait, wait!” James cried out, but it was too late. Every nerve in his body lit up with intense pain. For a moment, his vision blacked out and he struggled to remain standing.

“Desist or you will be punished again.” The voice instructed as the pain ebbed.

Gazing sadly at the mostly-unsmoked cigarette still in his hand, James incinerated it between his fingers. It was just a cigarette; he didn’t need it, but gee whiz he wanted it. It was the one thing he’d had to look forward to, however small and unimportant it was in the grand scheme of things. Even that had been taken from him. He had nothing. He really, truly had nothing.

Tears started to fall, softly at first. Soon, however, his shoulders were shaking with sobs and he was gasping for air between them. It was loud, ugly crying, but that didn’t matter. Nobody could hear him, anyway.

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jerome-blog1 · 4 years

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The Sounds of the Sixties

Bristol & West Country Bands – Music of the 60’s

In the heady days of the early 1960’s, a time of massive change and innovation in the world of popular music. Fuelled by the excitement and electricity surrounding the new sounds of the time.

Merseybeat stars head down south – With the Merseyside inspired "Beat Boom" in full swing, the big stars in Bristol this week in 1963 had to be from up north.

Topping the bill at the Colston Hall were Billy J Kramer and the Dakotas who had just had a couple of massive hits with Do You Want to Know a Secret (No.2) – a Beatles’ written ditty – and Bad to Me (No.1).

You certainly got your money’s worth in those days. Also on the twice-nightly bill was Tommy Roe, an American who had shot up the charts with Sheila and the Folk Singer, plus a string of lesser acts. Tickets ranged from four shillings and sixpence to 10 shillings and sixpence (average wages were then about £10 a week).

The end of the month would see Freddie and the Dreamers, the Searchers and Brian Poole and the Tremeloes (who were riding high in the charts with Do You Love Me) invading the city. The Tremeloes had previously reached No.4 with that "oldie, but goodie" Twist and Shout – a raucous number recorded by the Beatles on their first album.

Topping the bill was Roy Orbison, who had just made the top 10 with In Dreams and Falling. His Blue Bayou would reach the No.3 spot on September 19. Top tickets, in the balcony, would set you back 12 shillings and sixpence.

In 1963, the smallish, local venues were still torn between promoting beat music or jazz. Local bands Johnny Slade and the Vikings plus Dean Prince and the Dukes were on stage at Clifton’s Victoria Rooms, with the Chinese Jazz Club at the Corn Exchange booking the Alan Elsdon Jazz Band.

"Thomas Alstone", the man with his finger on the pulse, tells us that local instrumental band the Eagles (and stars of the Bristol-made film Some People) were about to try their hand at vocals as well.

The result, on the Pye label, was an updated version of the Helston floral dance called Come on Baby, to the Floral Dance. I don’t think it made the charts. If you really wanted to know what was going on in the city in 1963 then the newly published Bristol Beat was the thing to read. Billed as "Young Bristol’s entertainment paper", it cost six pence.

This magazine informed us that the best- selling single in the city was She Loves You by the Beatles. Runner-up was Billy J Kramer’s Bad to Me. Other top sellers were Wishing by Buddy Holly and I’m Telling You Now by Freddie and the Dreamers.

If classical guitar was you thing then Julian Bream was playing at Stourhead gardens on the Sunday evening. The two guinea tickets included soup, cheese, French bread and a glass of wine.

Back in the city – the Centre to be precise – comedian Jimmy Edwards was getting astride a horse to promote his autumn spectacular at the Hippodrome. If none of this was your cup of tea then how about a trip to the movies to see some really big stars – a trio in fact.

At the ABC you could join the queue to see Marlon Brando, Trevor Howard and Richard Harris in Mutiny on the Bounty. And in September 1963, Bristol Zoo had its very own stars on show to the public – the only pair of white tigers in the world (outside India).

Bristolians were huge fans of Billy J Kramer and the Dakotas.

Recommended Link

bristolrock.net/c.aspx

www.bristolarchiverecords.com/people/people_Tony_Dodd.html

Johnny Carr and the Cadillacs

The original Bristol Comets and special guest star Sandra McCann. Formed in 1958 and playing Hamburg’s Kaiser Keller Club alongside The Beatles, Johnny Carr and the Cadillacs are the authentic sound of the ’60s. It was said that The Cadillacs were performing Twist and Shout, You’ll Never Walk Alone and Shoutlong before they became hits for The Beatles, Gerry and the Pacemakers and Lulu.

Formed in 1958. Lineup: Vocalist; Lead guitar; Rythm Guitar; Bass guitar; Drums Dave Purslow. For many years considered by most to be the most popular ‘pop group’ in Bristol. Every teenager knew of them. A very polished group fronted by the stong vocals of Johny Carr (Con Sullivan), they had a solid style and had that certain charisma that got them noticed. This was what took them to Hamburg’s Kaiser Club and playing alongside The Beatles, Johnny Carr and the Cadillacs became the authentic Bristol sound of the 60s.

The Cadillacs were performing songs like Twist and Shout, Youll Never Walk Alone and Shout before they became hits for The Beatles, Gerry and the Pacemakers and Lulu. In the early 1960s the drummer was Dave Purslow, a very large gentleman. John rennie writes: Downend had a very popular R & R club which was every Wednesday I think. Knowle had serious Saturday evening dances at the community centre featuring top local groups. Speedwell TA hall had some big dances, one easter I remember starring Johnny kidd and the Pirates with Johnny Carr and the Cadillacs supporting. There was a memmorable local group R & R concert at the old Cabot cinema (before it closed down) in Filton along the same lines as the ones at the Colston hall. What about the rag week mersey versus avon beat shows at the Vic rooms in the early 60,s I hope this stirs some memories. Regards John Rennie.

See photo link below

www.flickr.com/photos/brizzlebornandbred/2050007986/

Chet And The Triumphs

This Bristol band once supported The Beatles at The Bath Pavilion in the early sixties. The drummer was Graham Nicholson, who lived in West Park Road, Downend. His practice sessions could often be heard when you passed by on the pavement outside. His father was an inspector on the buses, based at nearby Staple Hill Depot.

John Coldrick lived a few doors away, also in West Park Road. He often passed by when we children were playing in the street outside our house on the corner of West Park Road and North Street. He always had a cheery word for us and took it in good spirit when we called out cheeky things about teddy boys and suchlike. A thoroughly nice young man. Regards Fray Bentos

Email to the webmaster: Hi, just looked through your website,brilliant! i saw a picture of Johnny Coldrick, with his band The Triumphs. I knew john in the early 60s and would love to get in touch with him.can you help? Regards Paul Newman….would be good to hear from anyone with contact details.

Email to the webmaster: I have great memories of the Glen ballroom and the club next door called Cupids Bar. Also the bouncer at the door of the Glen being David Prouse (of Darth Vader fame)I often would have a quick dance with him which looked strange as I was barely five feet tall and he was probably at least six seven. I now live in Australia but have great memories of Bristol, which I return to on a regular basis. I was also married for nineteen years to a member of the rock band Chet & The Triumphs. Regards Pam and Gary O’keefe

See photo link below

www.flickr.com/photos/brizzlebornandbred/2975315707/

Fred Wedlock

Once described as a ‘West Country Billy Connolly, although he probably came first’, Bristolian singer and raconteur Fred Wedlock has been performing in folk clubs and concerts since the late 1960s. He was born in Bristol, England, on 23rd May 1942 and had various jobs, including being a teacher, before turning professional in the early 1970s. He is related to ‘Fatty Wedlock of Bristol City FC fame. Fred had various albums on small labels issued in the 1970s, and became widely known early in 1981 when his single The Oldest Swinger In Town hit the UK charts, rising to no. 6. Unfortunately he has never maintained that success, but the song is almost guaranteed to be played at family gatherings such as wedding receptions, as the middle-aged uncles and aunts take to the floor to gyrate after a few drinks.

Acker Bilk

The chances are that if you were asked to name a clarinet player, the first name that would spring to mind is Acker Bilk. Somerset-born Acker became world famous in May 1962 when he became the first British artist to top the US pop music charts, paving the way for other acts from the UK, such as a then still unknown band who were to have a fair amount of success on both sides of the pond a year or so after Acker’s trailblazing hit – The Beatles!

Acker’s US chart-topper Stranger On The Shore had topped the British chart some six months earlier, following its use as the theme tune of the eponymous BBC children’s TV series. The record, which would nowadays be described as easy listening, perhaps seems an unlikely double number one on both sides of the Atlantic, but in those pre-Beatle days the charts contained a fairly eclectic mixture of ballads, rock ‘n’ roll and Dixieland-style ‘trad’ (short for traditional) jazz.

See photo link below

www.flickr.com/photos/brizzlebornandbred/2080583036/in/se…

Pete Budd and the Rebels

Pete Budd and the Rebels Line up: Lead guitar/vocals, Rythym Guitar, Saxophone, Bass and Drums. Pete Budd, then apparently voted as the ‘best guitarist in the West’ (according to the local pop music magazine ‘The Western Scene’) succeeded Les Watts as the lead vocalist and guitarist. Ivor Newick played drums and there was also had a saxophinist.

‘Somerset Born And Proud’ Pete later replaced Reg Quantrill as the Wurzels’ guitar and banjo player. One of the trio who continued after Adge Cutler’s death, he was the only member of the 1970s Wurzels who actually comes from Somerset. His is the distinctive lead voice on all of their 1970s chart hits, including their number one smash Combine Harvester and the follow-up hits I Am A Cider Drinker, Farmer Bill’s Cowman, etc. Pete is still with the band today, and therefore the second longest serving current Wurzel after Tommy Banner. Pete started out in the band Pete Budd and the Rebels and also made a few records in the 1960s in a band called The Rainbow People. Pete was running a pub/restaurant in the West Country for a while. A keen fisherman, Pete emigrated to Devon a while back. His voice has been heard in recent years singing on the TV commercials for Ambrosia Creamed Rice.

Adge Cutler

The original and indisputably the greatest Wurzel of all time, and the brains behind the whole concept. Born 1930 in Nailsea, north Somerset. Held a series of jobs before becoming a Wurzel, including working as road manager for famous clarinet player Acker Bilk (who is also from Zummerzet) and his Paramount Jazz Band, working in a cider mill (Coates of Nailsea), and working on building a power station in North Wales. Spent a year in Spain working as an agent looking for property. During his time there he grew to love the country and the Spanish way of life, as well as becoming fluent in Spanish. Formed the Wurzels in 1966 and continued to gig and record with the band until his career was sadly cut short by his untimely death in 1974, when he overturned his MGB sports car at a roundabout while driving himself home from a gig. Buried in Christchurch, Nailsea.

The Comets

One of Bristol’s own first-generation rock ‘n’ roll bands the Comets they had supported such acts as Gene Vincent and Billy Fury. The Comets were almost certainly the first Bristol based band to make the enormous leap from Skiffle to amplified music, and thus paving the way for countless other local bands in the late fifties – early sixties.

A talent contest at the Glen Ballroom in 1958 in which the Sapphires, a vocal group, and the Comets were competing. Their sound blew everyone away that night. They not only sounded great, they looked great as well, dressed like quintessential rockers of that era.

In 1960 a unique show took place at The major concert venue in the city of Bristol, England….The Colston Hall. 2000 fans packed the place on December 16th to witness the best of the cities young Rock,n,roll bands & singers, even though not one of them had a recording contract, and some of the musicians were still in school ! Such was the popularity of local bands, when there was no such thing as a disco. let alone MTV, and when there was very little "pop music" on the then austere stiif upper lip Radio.

Andy Perrott (acoustic guitar and vocals) started out as half of the ‘Antones’ with Tony Sweet and has featured in several local rock’n’roll bands including the ‘Echoes’ and the legendary ‘Bristol Comets’. Andy left the music business for a twenty year sabbatical but returned in 1984 as front man with the reformed ‘Comets’.

Tony Dodd (electric guitar and vocals) started his career in music at about the same time, as guitarist for ‘Mike Tobin and the Magnets’. Unlike Andy, Tony has been playing continually since those heady days with the Magnets, including a band in the USA where he lived for three years. Locally Tony held down a residency at the renowned ‘Dug Out’ club and his bands include ‘Hugget’ and ‘Dodds Army’, and he is now a member of the Bristol Comets’.

See photo link below

www.flickr.com/photos/brizzlebornandbred/2050007986/

The Eagles

The Eagles were formed by Terry Clarke www.terryclarke.com/ (lead guitar), Johnny Payne (rhythm guitar), Michael Brice (bass), and Rod Meacham (drums), all students at Connaught Road School in Bristol. Their name came from the youth organization, the Eagle House Youth Club, to which they all belonged. The quartet played local dances, parties, and bingo halls, performing during the intervals between the sessions at the latter, often for whatever was in the hat that was passed around.

The Eagles were a Bristol music quartet active from 1958 through the mid 1960s.

Led by guitarist Terry Clarke, who used a homebuilt custom instrument, the group included drummer Rod Meacham, bassist Michael Brice, and Johnny Payne on rhythm guitar. Playing primarily instrumental rock, they began their career in Bristol playing local venues such as dance halls.

They were launched into the world of professional music in 1962 upon being noticed by composer Ron Grainer, probably best remembered for his theme to Doctor Who. Grainer was interested in The Eagles for a film project he was working on, Some People, about a fictional Bristol band not unlike themselves. The Eagles contributed to the Some People soundtrack, and became Grainer’s protegees, recording new versions of some of his film score work like the theme of the Maigret television series. The Some People soundtrack reached No.2 on the EP charts, and remained on the charts for a stay of 21 weeks.

The Eagles were awarded the Duke of Edinburgh Trophy for their work on the film, and soon after were signed to Pye Records, at the time among the top three labels in Britain. After releasing the singles ‘Bristol Express’ and ‘Exodus’, The Eagles embarked on a major tour of England along with more established acts Del Shannon, Stevie Wonder, Johnny Tillotson, and Dionne Warwick.

The tour world lasted much of 1963, during which their debut album, Smash Hits From The Eagles was released in the UK and the United States. The following year brought their most successful single and the one for which they are best remembered today, a vocal rendition of ‘Wishin’ And Hopin” backed with ‘Write Me A Letter’. Unfortunately, 1964 also brought a pair of tragedies which ultimately led to the end of the group: Grainer went blind, and Meachum suffered a nervous breakdown. Soon after, in late 1964, the band went their separate ways.

After The Eagles Clarke continued in the music business, with the band Pickettywitch and later as a session musician and solo artist, working with such artists as Michael Messer, Willie Nelson, Joe Ely, The Band, and Johnny Cash. He released nine solo albums between 1990 and 2006, on Transatlantic Records and various labels. Payne returned to Bristol and continued to play with local bands.

The Eagles’ music is available on many compilations of the era, and in 1998 Sanctuary Records released a massive 61-track two-disc compilation set Smash Hits from The Eagles and The Kestrels, by far the most accessible overview of the Eagles’ music today.

See photo link below

www.flickr.com/photos/brizzlebornandbred/2094324558/

Teach the world to sing – Rogers Cook and Greenaway

Britain’s best ever song-writers hail from Bristol, well Fishponds/Kingswood namely Rogers Cook and Greenaway. They used to be David and Jonathan in the sixties, wrote ‘If you like alot of chocolate on your biscuit join our club’ and Cookie formed Blue Mink. Later he went to Nashville where he become the only Briton ever to be inducted into the Country Hall of Fame.

Bristol’s Rolling Stones

Mick and Keith, Brian and Bill and, of course, Charlie were already world-famous as the Rolling Stones, pop music’s favourite rebels, by the autumn of 1965. They’d just celebrated their biggest hit of all, ‘(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction’ when word came through that a Bristol band were claiming that they, not Jagger, Richards, Jones, Wyman and Watts, were the original Rolling Stones.

And it was all too true. Bristol’s Rolling Stones were the three Stone brothers who’d formed their own skiffle band at the height of the Lonnie Donegan era and played gigs like the Bristol Press Ball in 1957. Skiffle came from American blues music which often featured light travelling heroes described as rolling stones, so it was a good title.

The washboard group had changed their name to the Stone Brothers to avoid confusion when Mick, Keith and co. sprang to fame after taking their name from bluesman Muddy Waters’ classic ‘Rolling Stone’, but the matter still rankled. ‘We have no desire for the Jagger Stones to change their name. We only want to establish that the Bristol Stones are entitled to the name and were the first Rolling Stones,’ the group announced.

Top rock promoter/agent Tito Bums, then representing Mick, Keith and the rest chortled, ‘This would make a wonderful film.’ The Bristol Stones even consulted lawyers, but the matter ended quietly and amicably. . . and almost no one remembers the original Rolling Stones.

In the 1950s, Bill, his brother Ken and an unrelated Stone (Brian) formed a skiffle group. Their father was Moss Stone; not surprisingly, they called themselves The Rolling Stones. On the demise of the skiffle boom, they broadened their repertoire to include country and western . In 1965, there was a legal battle with the other ‘Stones’ which resulted in them being unable to continue with their name. A publicity leaflet for the Bristol Stones band at the time said ‘Bill Stone plays a very fine banjo and can perform equally well Liszt’s Liebestraum or Bye Bye Blues. Bill is a devotee of the great Eddie Peabody’ (an American plectrum style player)

The Pigsty Hill Light Orchestra

The bands who put our city on the map THE Pigsty Hill Light Orchestra, so the story goes, first got together after Fred Wedlock’s 1968 New Year party at Clifton’s much lauded Troubadour Folk Club in Waterloo Street. The "Piggies" as they were affectionately known, derived their unusual name from a specific location up the Gloucester Road – the section that goes uphill from the old Bristol North swimming baths to the turning just before Horfield prison.

Composed of musicians from other local groups the band weren’t in fact an orchestra at all but comparable to Viv Stanshall’s Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band or the zany Temperance Seven. John Turner (yes, the radio presenter and newspaper columnist) came from the Downsiders, Barry Back and Andy Leggett from the Alligator Jug Thumpers and Dave Creech from the Elastic Band.

Their music, which has been described as 1920s jazz and blues, actually sounded more jug band. Unbelievable sounds emanated from a collection of hot water bottles, plumbing pipes and the like. With a good dose of comedy thrown in, it all seemed to go down well. A music paper even labelled the "Piggies" the band "most likely to succeed". Things were looking up. With the Plastic Dog agency handling their gigs, a well received album, PHLOP, was released in 1970 on the Village Thing label. This was the year that John Turner left to be replaced by bass player Wild Bill Cole.

The band’s next album, Piggery Jokers, was recorded in Cornwall in 1973, had its distinctive cover put together by artist Rodney Matthews in a unique, self designed font. Now it was Barry Back’s time to call it a day being replaced by Jon "Wash" Hays on washboard. Then Andy Leggett left, too. But the "Piggies" weren’t ready to call it a day just yet. Dave Paskett, Richie Gould, Pat Small and Henry Davies, plus guitarists Chris Newman and Robert Greenfield came on board (plus, on occasion, a fine guitarist called Diz Disley who had tasted fame with folkie guitarist and singer Martin Carthy and legendary fiddler Dave Swarbrick).

All these musicians featured on the next album, imaginatively called The Pigsty Hill Light Orchestra, 1976. The music press were very kind. A Melody Maker hack wrote: "The Pigsty Hill Light Orchestra must be one of the most popular acts on the folk scene. Their spontaneous humour and good time songs have held many an audience anchored to the floor in wonder."

Three years later, despite a loyal following and much touring, the "Piggies" decided to throw in the towel. But still it wasn’t the end. In 1988, the band reformed, by request, to play at Trowbridge’s popular Village Pump Festival.

The gang were so well received and had so much fun that they decided to stay together, add Pat Small and singer Hannah Wedlock (Fred’s daughter) to the line-up and go on tour again. Out of it came yet another album, Back On The Road Again. This was in 1991, the year Jim Reynolds and Dave Griffiths joined the band. The following year, Musical History, a compilation album consisting of a selection of tracks taken from 1968 to 1992, was released.

Barry Back, who had been the driving force behind the "Piggies" reunion, sadly died in 1992 and, shortly after, the band decided to pack up for good. Al Read, in his excellent book about the Granary Club, says that the band’s first single on the Village Thing label, Shake That Thing/ Cut Across Shorty, can be bought for 47p.

The Retreads

One of the better bands was the Retreads, and were constantly booked to play most of the big venues, and played together with some of the bigger names of the time, Hollies, Searchers, Gene Vincent etc etc.

Jim Durcan, rhythm guitar, Derek Martin lead guitar and Ron Chappell on bass guitar, John Watson on drums. The band was soon signed up for Germany and spent a couple of years working the clubs there and under the management of the Star Palast owner Manfred Woitala, but returning every so often to play the Bristol scene.

While in Germany Jim had an accident and left the band, returning to his hometown Dursley in Glos, in the lineup at that time was a brilliant German pianist Jerry B, (Barthold Dunker) who made a great hit with the fans when the band once more returned to Bristol and on a longer tour covering the whole of the south of England.

After years in Germany and a few gigs in Sweden the Retreads returned to Bristol where eventually the band broke up. ( late 1966 ) Ron and Derek stayed in England and John Watson decided to go back to Sweden.

The Corvettes by Dark Haloun

I joined the corvettes as lead guitarist after Dave Fahy and Ray Truscott left for richer rewards. Steve Thynne had taken over as singer and rhythm guitarist. Geoff Fothergill played bass and Dave " Bocker" Box was on drums. We played most of the halls round Bristol and the villages within a fifty mile radius. Didn’t do much for my uni studies but it was fun.

Strictly a covers band, but weren’t they all back then. Alan B Williams drove the van and acted as roadie. He was chronically late, and we always told him that we were starting an hour before we really were. Geoff tried to teach me to drive in his Morris Minor, though without much success. When Steve moved on we got Alan Dale in as singer and Mike Morley( I think, memory is not what it used to be) on rhythm guitar. We discovered that Alan could sing a strong falsetto and started to do three part harmonies: Beach boys, Four seasons. It was a point of difference given that there were so many bands doing the same stuff. I was transferred to London and left the band in the mid-sixties.

Kinda lost touch with the guys after that. In 1973 I moved to Perth in Western Australia with my Aussie wife. Played in several bands over the years. For the last four years I’ve played lead in a sequenced trio, still doing the old fifties and sixties stuff. At 75 years of age it gives me an interest and keeps me off the sreets. Sorry I have nether photos nor memorabilia of the band but the memories remain undiminished. Dark Haloun

Anyone out there name any more ?

Email [email protected]

Can you Help ?

Does anyone remember the Glen Ballroom, Locarno, Dug Out, The Granary Club, Town’s Talk, Corn Exchange or any 1960s clubs or dance halls in Bristol?

The Glen

I’ve tried to find info & Pictures of it but no luck so far. We used to go ballroom dancing there back in the 60’s. There was a club attached to it but you had to be 18 to get in, they played rock ‘n’Roll their as apposed to the ‘Proper’ dancing in the ballroom.

Does anyone know if any of the Discs a gogo programmes were kept by the old TWW company.I would love to see us doing the Bristol Stomp again!

Anyone have any memories of the Mods & Rockers era and the coffee bars or the local West Coast Hells Angels in Bristol back to a time when British built motorcycles ruled the road ?

As a 51-year old Brisolian stuck in a 1960s timewarp, how many people recall the Monday night sessions between 1966 and 1968 at the then New Bristol Centre in the Locarno ballroom? (sadly now demolished) As I recall, this was THE place in Bristol at the time for 14-18-year-olds, with the entrance fee being 3s 6d for a session from 7pm to 10.30pm.

Records were provided via DJ (anyone recall names?) and there were two bars, The Bali Hai, where if you could stand tiptoe and lower your voice, you might get served with a half of cider by a waitress in a mock grass skirt!

Music was generally Top 30 stuff with a sprinkling of rarer Stax, Atlantic and Motown items which kept the Mods happy, and I am sure many a long-term relationship was started on the dance-floor.

Luckily, prior to demolition I was allowed in, and now am the proud owner of the Bali Hai mock Totem Poles which adorned the entrance to the bar, and also the sign from the Gents Stag Room – my partner thinks I’m crazy!

Chris Powell, Bradley Stoke

Danny Clarke and the Jaguars, Dean Prince and the Dukes, Jonny Slade and the Vikings, Mel Taylor and the Trek a beats, Dee Stars Predictions, A J and the others. The Road Runners.

The Quad. Mark Roman and the Javelins , Franklin big six, The Exiles, Mike Starr and the Citizens. The Blue Sound. The Lincolns, The Travellers The Concords The Ramrods. Dale Martin and the Mysteries. The Retreads The Strange Fruits The Burlington Berties. Venues the Vic rooms Carwadines Cool for cats (Yate) Bath pavilion the Corn Exchange the all nighter and all the church halls.

www.flickr.com/photos/brizzlebornandbred/5165126654/

Mods and Rockers

Email from Chris Powell to me: I was a 17 year old Mod living in St George/ Hanham at the time (1968/9). Most of us rode Lambrettas or Vespas, and The Rockers (or Greasers as we called them) rode old Vincents or Triumphs.

Generally there wasn’t any problems although it did kick off big time in the Summer of 1969 around the Centre- there were running battles for 2 or 3 nights and anyone on either a scooter or motorbike was considered "fair game"

A meeting was arranged on College Green between the Pascoe brothers (Willie and Angellino?) who were the "Ace Faces" in the Bristol Mod movement, and the leaders of the Rockers (names N/K)- there was the customary handshake and peace reigned thereafter. In all honesty, most of the "trouble" was built up by the media, as mainly Mods and Rockers were good friends. Indeed, I still have Lambrettas to this day and occaisionally meet Rockers of that era whilst out and about and chinwag over the good old days!

Main "Mod" places were- The Locarno; The Top Rank; The Never on a Sunday Cafe in Fairfax Street: Aunt Gemimas; Coke and Clobber; Beau Brummels on The Centre; The Weigh Inn (spelling) on College Green.

The Rockers used to hang out at The Starsreach Cafe in Staple Hill.

Posted by brizzle born and bred on 2007-12-08 14:55:08

Tagged: , 1958 , 1962 , 1966 , 1984 , 1963 , pacemakers , wurzels , ambrosia , adge cutler , cook greenaway , al read , nailsea , pye records , banner , dodd , pete budd , wedlock , spanish , beatles , corn exchange , bath pavilion , pigsty hill , eagles , sweet , towns talk , tww , johnny carr , johnny tillotson , kaiser keller club , blue mink , granary club , rock band , sandra mccann , sixties , spain , stevie wonder , del shannon , andy perrott , bristol comets , lulu , dionne warwick , mike tobin , chet triumphs , cadillacs , Merseybeat , Beat Boom , Billy J Kramer and the Dakotas , Johnny Slade and the Vikings , Dean Prince and the Dukes , Chinese Jazz Club , Bristol Corn Exchange , Devon , Somerset , Bristol-Music-&-Arts , Acker-Bilk , The Corvettes by Dark Haloun

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