"A Knot
Of Truth"
Enjoyed your pages on the Prefects history, but mystified by
Apperley, A.'s glorification of himself as founder member,
alongside his brother, P.
Now, read on...
Robert, myself and the long-lost P.J.Royster first met up in 1975,
alongside other hopeless pop-heads in the death days of glam (the
New York Dolls were the thing, not to mention kraut-rockers
Neu!), introduced by our mutual fiend (sic) 'Butch' Scholefield
(eventually invited to be an original member of the Motivators,
more about which...) at his Mommy's and Daddy's house somewhere in
Hednesford (they probably still don't know). Where is Aggie now?
This was ostensibly, the first rehearsal of an already existing
band (one gig in Anne's shed?) named The Church Of England. Yes,
Anne was there too, with mysterious friend Roy, of no perceivable
talent. Rob and I laughed, as ever; I knew a riff and all were
mightily pleased, with themselves, if not one another. I think I
impressed Rob because I'd managed to borrow an amp.
'Butch' introduced me to buttered toast to dip into my Crosse &
Blackwell Country Vegetable soup, a delicacy for a peasant boy
from East Park. I had never known such extravagance.
(Incidentally,
'Butch' and I knew each other vaguely from secondary grammar, a
right pair of Herbert Einstein's, we were both 18; Rob and his
mates were all 16-year-old school-chums and neighbourhood pals of
'Butch' (black country bumpkins to a boy, covering the entire
range of the social spectrum, from A to B).
Rob, myself and P.J. went on to get together again, mutually
inspired by various articles in NME (who was this old man
Rotten?), for a (yet another) rehearsal in Anne Morton's shed to
form a
drummerless (paradise!) combo called The Gestapo. It was at this
session that the name 'The Prefects' was suggested, by P.J. as I
recall, but it could have been a private joke between the other
two
(Rob, at the time, was seriously thinking of calling himself
Robert Perfect - get it? "Perfection, in itself, is a fault"
Prefects/Perfects? No? Well, please yerselves).
The three of us also took a comic odyssey hitch-hike sometime in
1976 (I think) to Chalk Farm Road and Rehearsal Rehearsals, a
horror trip instigated by Rob, who had done this kind of thing
before. What the fuck's a Tube? There we met Joe Strummer, Mick
Jones and Paul Simenon (whose Kit-Kat I refused, even though
starving in my nylon anorak and pig-tails. Hey, just kidding about
the anorak!). Then Joe Jones (or was it Mick Strummer?), he
formerly of the London S.S., uttered the immortal and fateful
words: "You can't call yourselves the fuckin' Gestapo!"
And so we traipsed home to the dark heart of England via a
death-trap oil transporter, a flooded river, tears of despair (not
mine) and helpless, piss-taking laughter. In a bus-station in
Cannock
I told Rob I was bored, didn't see where it was going, etc. He
responded to some ad in MM (as I was told - turned out to be the
Cheslyn Hay Gazette, or some such) out of sheer contrariness and
founded the Apperleys! I was actually auditioned to be in my own
band (for some odd reason, Rob still wanted me in there) but
failed 'cause I couldn't afford an amp, joining later in '78.
Still wrote for them, though ('Supermen', 'The Only Real
Heroes Are Dead Ones', '625 Lines', etc.).
P.J. stayed on as their original bassist (ted! Ward joined a
little bit later) until eventually joining me, 'Butch' and Jo
Gidwell in the Motivators sometime in '77. "Barbarella's" is a
Motivators song, incidentally.
Phut-note: Chris Collins (aka. Frank Skinner) was never in the
Prefects, he auditioned for the Apperleys, an altogether different
kettle of fag-ash.
If there's
more, I've forgotten it. Must toddle off...
Joe - May 2005 |