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Post by wolfman1 on Aug 5, 2011 17:16:48 GMT 1
My God where is everybody!,been so long I had to go hunting for my password!, come on chaps,there must be something new!.
Wolfman.
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Post by crazydays on Oct 23, 2011 12:37:55 GMT 1
Just come across the forum, mentioned in dispatches a few times. Agree with regard to Lyn Rees and Alan Crompton who both played lead in the Combo,and excellent guitarists along with Clifton Price. I have lived in Spain for over a decade but return to Wales each summer and meet some survivors. Heard of deaths of Micky and Clive with sorrow. Spoke to Jethro on phone he sounds good,and John Prices jokes are as fresh as ever!!
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Post by wolfman1 on Oct 24, 2011 2:07:09 GMT 1
Hey 'Crazy Days!. I must know you then?,you must idedntify yourself!,great to see someone new on here at last!,I'm one of the guys you just mentioned. Jethro & I are in touch regularly,we worked together in 'The Harts' of course, just put a stack of photos on F/B,if your on there,send me a friend request,& take a look at them,guess you must know who I am?.
Keep the messages coming,good too hear from you, regards, Wolfman.
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Post by crazydays on Oct 24, 2011 14:27:31 GMT 1
Hi Wolfman, I am ,of course,the long lost P.G.Just think of Trevor the roadie,Cyfarthfa Park,Ronnie Edwards and a Bedord Dormobile and the memories will flood back.Not on facebook(not long been dragged into 21st century)but will sort out and look forward to seeing photos. Keep messaging.crazy days Playa de La Mata Spain.
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Post by wolfman1 on Oct 24, 2011 20:53:17 GMT 1
Ha ha!!!,gotcha 'CrazyDays!,took me a minute,but cracked it!!!, you doing ok?,the last time we met was in the park both taking a stroll.
I've got a few photos of us on my F/B page,if any one can crack this internet lark,it's you!,great to be in touch again 'Oh Glorious Leader'!,just keep on 'Oop-poop-a-Doing'!,ha ha,stay in touch, regards, Wolfman.
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Post by whambam13 on May 31, 2012 14:01:14 GMT 1
Ken Gwyn Lewis was the lead guitarist with Pete Lovis during the 1960's.
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Post by wolfman1 on Jun 2, 2012 1:09:45 GMT 1
Hey Whambam. So was I for quite a few gigs on my return from Germany in 1967, Gwyn was a great mate of mine,& left to go teaching,last I heard he was teaching Music in Germany.
Come on guys,'Whambam' is the first person to post on here for some time,lets get things rolling again!.
Wolfman.
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mickey
First Few Posts
Posts: 7
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Post by mickey on Jul 31, 2012 8:58:34 GMT 1
I have really enjoyed this thread. While I have no ancestral connection with Merthyr I was a great friend of Micky Jones and Clive John, both Bystanders and later of course members of Man. So sad they are no longer with us.
I have published three books by their colleague Deke Leonard which may be of interest to you - particularly The Twang Dynasty, with his views on guitar players, which has a long chapter on Welsh guitarists.
If anyone wants more details or is interested in a signed copy, please message me.
Thanks again for a great thread. Please keep it going!
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Post by wolfman1 on Jul 31, 2012 9:26:53 GMT 1
Welcome Mickey,good to see you on here,Micky & Clive were great mates of mine, we started playing at the same time,if you're on Face Book,there's loads of photos on my page,especialy some of Deke & Micky which might interest you,pease send me a 'Friend Request' if you want to,I read 'Twang Dynasty' & really enjoyed it,good to see some 'New Blood' on here,your input is always welcome.
Take care, Wolfman.
P.S....ooopps,you'll find me on F/B as Alan Crompton,well,there goes my cover!,ha ha.
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Post by wolfman1 on Jul 31, 2012 11:49:03 GMT 1
I've got a few of Deke from when we shared the bill together when he was with The Jets as well,& a nice one of him playing my Telecaster in our flat in Hammersmith.
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mickey
First Few Posts
Posts: 7
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Post by mickey on Aug 1, 2012 11:04:16 GMT 1
I'a nice one of him playing my Telecaster in our flat in Hammersmith. Of course Deke had his striped one 'nicked' in Europe a few years ago. Bet he'd like to have kept yours! Clive was such a warm hearted fellow, I really miss him; Micky a bit more reserved. We did the first annual jam for Micky in Morrison on Christmas 2010 and I texted Clive what was going on. (Andy Fair-weather, Sassafras, etc). He responded from his hospital bed with such funny texts I was almost doubled up with laughter. By the way, I can't see this thread on the front page, only when I bookmark it. Could be my machine but if others have the same problem...
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Post by wolfman1 on Aug 1, 2012 13:18:46 GMT 1
Hi Micky. Good to hear from you,if you select the last page you'll get the latest postings,page 12 at the moment,keep all the comments coming,this forum has been dormant far too long.
When Clive left The Crescendos it was me that replaced him, he would take tke great delight up to the end that when we bumped into each other he would greet me with 'Hello Replacement!''.
Take care, Wolfman.
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mickey
First Few Posts
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Post by mickey on Aug 3, 2012 10:49:15 GMT 1
Here's something Clive John gave me to publish in the Man newsletter - so apologies if you've seen it before, but many may not... ;D
The Bystanders' first gig abroad, with appropriate apologies for my dodgy French and Spanish.
BARCELONA. During those teenage years, Jeff Jones dad, Jack, took us out for a fortnights camping holiday to Spain. (Maybe I should say, tenting holiday, to avoid any politically incorrect homophobic comments). We set off in the battered, mushroom-coloured, Bedford J2 van with Jeff’s mum, Jeff, Ray Williams, Micky and myself Jerry Braden (Owen Money) had stayed home to look after his concubines. On route through France a valve blew on the van, and I, as the only one to have taken French in school, was despatched with the help of a passing English family to implore the local village garage owner to help us. In at the deep end my French didn’t seem to be working, that is until I heard him say to his mechanic something along the lines of - xxxxxxx Anglais", I saw my chance, the world of opportunity opened up in front of me, "Pardonnez-moi monsieur, Je ne suis pas Anglais, Je suis Pays de Galles, Phil Bennett, Barry John, JPR" I said This was the turning point in my fortunes, my fears evaporated. "Ah monsieur, Pays de Galles eh" he shook my hand, I was in. He suddenly seemed to understand what a valve was, "un pupitre" I think. I was immediately dispatched with the mechanic and his tools in an old Citroen ribbed van, the one that looks like an upside-down pram. The J2 was duly fixed and we continued our expedition to exotic Spain. This incident and later French excursions were to give me great insight into the workings of French thought regarding "Les Anglais". Look at it this way . . . the French over many centuries have been beaten by the English in most conflicts, even when they were invaded and occupied the English came to the rescue, duffed up the invaders and sent them packing. The Frogs resent this because they suspect it was only done to protect English coast against even nastier threats. They seem to have forgotten that the Welsh, Scots and Irish were amongst those very same British forces, this works well for we Celts (the French have Celts too). This natural Celtic affinity is positive, it extends to Rugby, they want us all to beat England, they think Celts are fab and groovy. Good God, did I write that? At least I stopped at mentioning Argentina. (You just did Clint, now get on with it - MH) So, on to Barcelona. We duly arrived at our campsite in Masnou, a small town just up the road from Barcelona After much huffing, puffing and swearing, our Continental tent, 3 rooms and a canopy, very posh, was set up at the top of the sloping site. The site facilities and action were all at the bottom of the site by the ham road and large family swimming pool. However, at the top end of the site we had a small walled pool filled by cold mountain water, fed by a small stone aqueduct, and used only by a few of us at the top end One day I climbed the aqueduct wall and found three large plastic bottles with something murky inside laying in the incoming cool mountain water. I dumped the contents in the brambles on the other side of the wall, put the tops back on and threw them into the pool to dive under and grab whilst surfacing, very clever I thought. WORLD WAR III began shortly after. We were at the tent having breakfast when an enormously large and fit, crop-headed German came at us, shouting and screaming, (We looked behind him for the oncoming Stormtroopers) the bottles had been full of his best wine, brought all the way from the Fatherland, no less. Jeff’s dad did a tremendous Kissinger on him, but not before I was separated from a large part of my pocket money by way of compensation. WORLD WAR III had been avoided. The following day we lads went into Masnou for a walk and a drink, passing a local Cafe/bar, we heard the unmistakable sound of a Group rehearsing, badly as it happened. We walked in, bought a drink and sidled away from the bar towards the band in the empty restaurant at the rear. We could speak no Spanish, the band could speak no English, reluctantly they allowed us to try something on their rather crappy guitars and amps Young Jones’ immaculate rendition of Hank Marvin’s playing as we whacked out some Shadows tunes did the trick. People turned up from nowhere, they loved it. The Owner of the place saw an opportunity, in decent English he asked us if we could do a gig on the weekend, he would even hire some tidy equipment for us, he explained that, due to Musicians Union rules, he couldn’t pay us (no work permits) but cunningly offered us a slap up nosh and all the champagne we could handle. After a long and heated band debate (a millisecond) we agreed. The next day Masnou was plastered with posters advertising "Los Bystanders from London, England", I suppose that made more sense to Spaniards and tourists than "from Merthyr Tydfil, South Wales". We arrived on the night of the gig to find all the tables in the restaurant full and the bar packed to the rafters. Greeted like Royalty, we were escorted to our reserved table to tuck into mounds of nosh and unlimited Champagne. Eventually, we took to the stage to thunderous applause and seated ourselves on the stools provided (that’s what they did over there, then). We piled in straight away to our large repertoire of instrumentals, Shadows, Ventures, Spotnicks etc; interspersed with the odd song that one or the other of us knew the words of. Whenever one of our glasses was empty, our designated waiter scurried up to the stage to fill it with more champagne; this was, of course, between tunes; during the applause. Being the self-effacing, polite Welsh lads we are, we felt obliged to drink it, rather than run the risk of offending our kind hosts. The gig was a screaming success; they wouldn’t let us off stage. Eventually we stumbled and staggered off to celebrate our triumph with more champagne and the company of a bevy of adoring "Senoritas". We were giving each other sneaky smiles and knowing glances, convinced we had 'pulled", then, dressed in traditional black shawls, in came the girls Grandmothers, ready to escort them home. Gutted, this was a serious underestimation of the power of a good Catholic upbringing in Spain. The bar was emptying, our chances of a spot of cultural exchange (What? - MH) with the "Senoritas' had evaporated, it was time to attempt a tactical but lurching journey back to the campsite Once "home", Jeff’s Mum boiled some water on the primus in a completely futile attempt to sober us up. It took us half an hour to realise that Jeff wasn’t with us, the last time anyone had seen him he was sitting at the bar between two Policemen, sticks in his hand, showing them how to do paradiddles and flams, we had to find him. Off we went, the blind drunk leading the blind drunk, he was sat on the pavement, halfway back to Masnou, legless, just about speechless, but, with his drumsticks still in his hands .He, with a few Neanderthal grunts, managed to indicate that his money was gone, further grunting suggested that the Spanish Police had some hand in this. We picked him up, Ray and I carrying, his arms draped around our shoulders, flopping like a wet rag between us .As we approached the campsite entrance we saw two, shadowy, moustachioed figures, yes, the two Coppers, one with a machine pistol draped over his chest, the other with his holster unstrapped the butt of his pistol sticking out and swinging his truncheon menacingly, they looked like something off the 'Viva Zapata ' film set. This was a sobering moment, we summoned up some courage, lifted Jeff a little further up, until his feet were off the floor, and, with a deep breath I managed a cheery "Buenos noches Senors without slurring or collapsing under Jeff’s dead weight, it worked. It took a further hour or two, slumped in the balmy Spanish evening drinking black coffee, before we felt safe enough to crash out in our camp beds. 'Los Bystanders" were welcomed everywhere in Masnou after that, the Welsh 'Conquistadors" had triumphed, Spain was conquered faster than Cortez had stuffed the Aztecs.
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Post by wolfman1 on Aug 3, 2012 17:03:19 GMT 1
Nice tale Micky,surely we must have met?. wolfman.
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strat
Full Member
Posts: 32
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Post by strat on Aug 4, 2012 13:54:44 GMT 1
hi micky we must know each other i was roadie for the bystanders here in Merthyr and up in London i know wolfman very well we used to meet up in London when he lived there he used to come to our flat and we used to go to his quite often
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