FUTURISTIC MANIFESTO

Hampton is a small town in Middlesex south west of London one of scores clinging roughlv to the Thames as it snakes Us way past the streets and national landmarks and eventually fields out to the North Sea Brian May was born in Hampton at Gloucester House Nursing Home on July 19 1947 to Harold and Ruth May The family home was a few miles away in Feltham a town of similar size but composed mainly of families a few notches down the social scale though the May home was a typical suburban semi detached in a quiet cul de sac.

There is a continual grumble and roar in the sky above Feltham because it lies down to Heathrow Airport. Its economy has developed in unison with the airport: It has for example three times as many council houses as nearby Whitton. The baggage handlers, cleaners, taxi drivers and restaurant staff usually settle in Feltham and walk the streets oblivious to the 747s by their rooftops.

As an only child Brian May was extremely close to his parents. His father was a draughtsman with the Ministry of Aviation and they shared many similar interests. One of Brian May’ s earliest loves was science fiction comics, the art and graphics of which along with their peculiar prose was to later influence his music.

His early musical development began with the ukulele, an instrument his father could play reasonably well He immediately showed an aptitude and on his seventh birthdav he was given an acoustic guita.r Brian May was of the same technical mind as his father, and they both set about altering the guitar to suit his needs. The action [the distance from the strings to the fret board] was narrowed to make it easier to play, and by using copper wires and magnets they made the guitar electric and Brian amplified it by using a home made wireless. The pair also made a telescope together so Brian could watch the stars above London and Devon where they went on family holidays Another of their shared hobbies was photography ind before the age often Brian was developing his own pictures.

Their tidy house in Walsham Road had an upright piano in the living room and Brian often played it. He was encouraged to do so and took piano lessons eventualy reaching grade four. He was extraordinarily adept on the guitar and applied a relentlessly logical approach to the instrument, listening to songs bv perlormers such as Lonnie Donegan and Buddy Holly and transplanting the chords on to his guitar. The Crickets at this point were his favourite group. He was bewitched by their harmonies and the atmosphere of their records. He was soon picking out the notes married to the chords and forming a definite lead style.

Brian was an exemplary scholar and in 1958 left Cardinal Road Infants School to take up a scholarship at Hampton Grammar School. The all boys school had nearly 1 000 pupils and was recognised as the best of three local grammar schools the others being Chiswick Grammar and Latimer Grammar. Hampton Grammar, now known simply as Hampton School was based in Hanworth Road on roughly the same site as the local mixed comprehensive school, The Rectory, and an exclusive, all girls school, The Lady Eleanor Holles School. When he became a pupil at Hampton it had a reputation for austerity. The head teacher, George Whitfield believed in a pugnaciously formal approach, full uniform, including caps, had to be worn at all times. Even today the school maintains many of its rigid values. A polite inquiry as to any prevailing memories of Brian Vlay draws forth the formal, two line response: “Our policy is not to discuss old boys of the School except with those introduced to us by the old boys concerned I would therefore suggest that you approach Brian May directly - G G Able MA (Cantab) MA (Dunelm) Headmaster [underlined]. «There was a great emphasis on getting to university preferably a redbrick one and sod a career said a former pupil. «Careers seemed to be an afterthought there was such an emphasis on academic achievement. Thinking back though it was a brilliant education. It was fairly strict for sure but the standards were extremely high.

It was apparent immediately that Brian was an exceptional pupi. He could hardly have been otherwise, such was the support from his parents. They had an unusual level of devotion to their son and were simultaneously assenting and solicitous. His friends remember the May household as quiet sober and a friendly place to be; Harold May was always keen to join in with his son s projects and Ruth May was on hand to supply the tea and biscuits. Brian s love of astronomy was such that he was already planning a career involving the subject, and he excelled at related studies like maths and physics. At Hampton he was placed in the top stream in his vear and had to take compulsory Latin.

In the late fifties the acoustic guitar was an essential fashion item for many teenage boys. For most it was slung conspicuously across the shoulder a useful prop for a chat with the girls they fancied down at the coffee bar. Even the starched atmosphere at Hampton Grammar School could not repress this teenage musical exuberance. In fact, two pupils Jim McCarty and Paul Samwell-Smith, later became members of The Yardbirds while they were still at the school. Brian May began meeting with others at lunch limes where they would strum their guitars. He was the most advanced, and impressed his peers one afternoon with a remarkably faithful rendition of Guy Mitchell’s ‘Singing The Blues’.

It was fated that Brian would fuse his interest in music and technology and along with a school friend, Dave Dilloway, he began lo record songs. Using two tape recorders they would constantly record from one to the other, layering extra parts down on to tape. They used guitars and a bass guitar Dave had made himself, and for percussion tapped out rhythms using bits of Meccano. Harold May became their recording assistant, soldering together pieces of wire, keeping a check on the levels, and allowing them to use the family record player as a surrogate amplifier. They mainly recorded instrumentals, covers of numbers by The Shadows or The Ventures.

High quality American-made Fender and Gibson guitars were filtering through to Britain’s music shops by the early Sixties. They were highly desirable, if expensive, and really marked out the difference between spirited amateurs and those aspiring to professionalism. The May family, with some sacrifice, could have afforded to buy Brian such an exquisite guitar, but the imagination of both Brian and Harold May had been fired by the arrival of this sleek wood and mechanical technology. They decided to build their own guitar and their efforts during the autumn of 1963 were to form one of rock’s most repeated and enduring anecdotes.

Their earnest endeavour could have been lifted from one of the diagram-by-diagram explanations in Look And Learn, the classic children’s magazine of the Fifties and Sixties dedicated to the wonderment of science and nature. In short, the neck was carved from a mahogany fireplace; the tension of the strings was balanced by motorcycle valve springs; the tremolo arm was a discarded knitting needle and the fretboard markers were mother-of-pearl buttons borrowed from Ruth May’s sewing box. Their only real compromise was to buy a set of three Burns pick-ups, though they were modified by the application of epoxy resin. The finished guitar, which cost £17 10s, was christened ‘The Red Special’ by Brian because of its deep red colour when polished. Later it also became known as ‘The Fireplace1” Their meticulously scientific approach meant that the guitar had a unique tonality which even the most expensive guitars could not emulate. The final testimony to the brilliance of their labours was that the guitar was built to last: it formed much of Queen’s sound down the years and has never been discarded. «They kept showing me the Red Special as they worked through it,» said Dave Dilloway. «It was a brilliant piece of workmanship. They had no guidelines, they had to do it as they went along. It was not the easiest guitar to play, it has a very thick neck, but it has seen Brian through his career. I irted to make one but it was a plank compared to Brian’s.».

Dave Dilloway was extremely close to Brian. They were in the same class at school and spent much of the weekend at each other’s houses. Dave would travel over to Feltham from his home in Whitton, near Twickenham. Every weekend they would spend at least four or five hours ‘making noises’ with their instruments. «I remember Brian loved The Temperance Seven,» he said. «They were an American style group that played what you’d call trad jazz. It was very Vaudeville. He used to buy their LPs as soon as they came out. Brian had very broad tastes. There was a large collection of classical LPs at his house which belonged to his parents. On the same day I recall him once buying LPs by Julian Bream and Jimi Hendrix and playing bits from both of them on his guitar,».

The lunch time guitar club at Hampton became the meeting place for pupils interested in forming groups. Up to ten potential guitarists would converge on an empty classroom and show one another new chord progressions they had learned. By far the best players were Brian May, known to the others as ‘Brimi’, and Pete Hammerton, known universally as ‘Woolly’, though no one could remember why. «Brian was pretty shy but he didn’t mind playing in front of people.» said Dave Dilloway. «He didn’t make a big deal about it, he certainty wasn’t a show-off. To me, even when Queen made it later on, Brian had to work hard at being on stage. He always seemed just a fraction away from being embarrassed by it all.».

Dave Dilloway and Brian May decided to form a group and their first real collaboration with others involved two classmates. Bill Richards on vocals and guitar and John Sanger on piano Sanger nonchalantly offered his services in class though it was some time before they realised his piano playing was actually quite advanced During their earhest shows he played a mini harmonium which was difficult to amplify and the only sound the others could hear emanating from it was the constant roar of the motor I had learned to play piano scales and some classical and was thoroughly fed up with it, so I was glad to join a group said John Sanger. “Everyone seemed to be in and out of bands at the time Various people were coming together and it was just a fun thing”.

Bill Richards had been taught to play guitar by Brian May who had been a maor force in his introduction to music. “We were interested in blues and pop and sought inspiration from Brian who was seen as an expert both in terms ot his musical knowledge and his playing skill” said Bill Richards. “I was keen to provide vocals for Brian and Dave for anything from Benny Hill to The Beatle, from The Mojosto Manfred Mann.” One ol the earliest songs in their repertoire was The Moody Blue’s hit ‘Go Now’ which they were able to emulate well by virtue of having a pianist.

As an early example of Brian May s pursuit of excellence he asked Bill Richards to buy himself a better guitar. There was a problem with my guitar which was cheap and nasty said Bill «It fell to Brian to tell me tactfully that if I couldn t get another one I would have to leave. I couldn’t so I left. To be honest I think Brian was being even more tactful by underplaying the problem with my vocals which weren’t right at the time although he was kind enough to say much later that I’d sorted it out. Another Hampton schoolmate, Malcolm Childs, replaced Bill Richards but he lasted barely a week (“He liked the idea of being in a group but was unreliable about almost everything” -Dave Dilloway) Finally they settled on John Garnham a rhythm guitar player who had played several concerts with other local groups He had his own equipment and was already a Pine plaver.

They advertised for a drummer by putting up a postcard in the window of Albert’s Twickenham’s only music shop. Richard Thompson, from nearby Hounslow, called at Dave Dilloway’s house and after a quick chat he became the group’s drummer. Richard a former pupil at Spring Grove Grammar School in Isleworth, had played drums for three years most recently with The Fifth Column who had appeared several times at youth clubs in the Hounslow area.

They found their singer at a dance at Murray Park Hall in Whitton. While they were watching the main group, Chris And The Whirlwinds, they recognised another Hampton pupil, Tim Staffel. Tim was watching the band and true to blues mythology playing along with a mouth organ. Both Dave and Brian were standing close to Tim and could discern that his playing was in tune and fairly proficient. They knew his face from school and later found out he was in the year below them. He had already been playing with another local band, The Railroaders, but decided to join Dave and Brian’s group. “The infrastructure seemed better” said Tim. “In Dave Dilloway I think they had a central sense of organization, he was always knocking together speakers and setting up rehearsals. I think they were compatible with my character. They both had pretty laid back personalities and were respecttul to other people”.

Tim Staffell’s introduction to pop music had been chiefly through Radio Luxembourg, which, along with Radio Caroline, was the first real manifestation ol a media specifically for teenagers He had built his own crystal set and spent hours listening to scratchy songs by the likes of Bobby Vee. In 1961 he had been involved in a serious road accident and spent many weeks off school while his broken legs healed. He missed much of his education and returned demoralised unable to catch up with the rest of his class. He adopted a fairly lax approach to school afterwards already quite sure his vocation would be artistic rather than academic. His outlook made him the antithesis of Brian May and Dave Dilloway. “I was more irresponsible in the sense that I was more responsive to trivia, street culture that sort of thing”, he said. “I’d lived a less sheltered life than them. There was an element of Bohemia I suppose.”. Dave Dilloway also recognised that he was fundamentally different. “Tim was more off beat more artistic,” he said Afterwards he went to art college while we went to university. He was more fashionable. He was keen, quite perky and full of ideas. He was quite a driving force more than we were.

After much thought, the named themselves 1984, George Orwell’s bleak, ashen prose of newspeak, doublethink. Thought Police and Big Brother had been a major influence on a generation 1984 was the band s shorthand for a time of institutionalised melancholy; it was an ideal name for a pop group. “We liked it because it was futuristic, simple, something catchy and different,» said Dave Dilloway. «Me and Brian had thought of hundreds of names, it was a hobby in itself in a way. When we weren’t doing that we were doodling on our school books, drawing guitars all the time.» Other contenders as names included the far inferior Bod Chappie And The Beetles and The Mind Boggles.

During these raw, formative days, there was already evidence of ideas which would be developed many years later. In choosing the name 1984, both Dave Dilloway and Brian May were mindful that the group could be thematic, existing on several levels. «We toyed with the idea of writing a mini-rock opera about 1984.» said Dave. «We talked about what stage sets we’d have and the lighting we’d use. As kids we would not have been able to generate the finance but if someone had come along and invested in us 1 think we could have been up there, we could have been something like Pink Floyd. We were a good team. I was quite technical, Tim was artistic and Brian was the musical brain.» The ‘rock opera’ was never more than a fanciful proposal, at this stage they hadn’t written a single original song, but it was testimony to lively imaginations.

1984 were fortunate to be located within the boundaries of Richmond Borough Council since it had a progressive view on youth and music. The early Sixties had been notorious for street violence as the message of rebellion from US rockers like Jerry Lee Lewis and Elvis Presley was wilfully misunderstood. On the silver screen it was slick Americanised choreography but the ersatz British version was a scowling Teddy Boy and a territorial viciousness. Councillors in Richmond avoided the usual platitudes, and instead formed the Whitton Beat Club. In one swoop, they effectively disarmed the threat of rock’n’roll and institutionalised it in a delightful, suburban British manner. Mr Conmsbee, a middle-aged man with experience as a Cub Scout leader, administered Whitton Beat Club. Groups were charged 10s per annum and thereafter were allowed to use youth clubs and schools in the Richmond area to rehearse. 1984 were allocated Chase Bridge Primary School in Twickenham, just a drop goal away from the nearby rugby ground. Brian May would usually be taken to rehearsals by his dad in the Jowett Javelin car he owned.

Chris Whittome-Knight, a friend of a friend, was the first to consider 1984 ready for their debut concert. He booked them to appear in a hall across the road from St Mary’s Church in Twickenham on October 28, 1964, and promised them a very reasonable fee of £10. John Garnham was the only member of 1984 with a driving licence and vehicle so his tiny bubble car became weighed down with instruments and amplifiers as he ferried their equipment to the venue. The concert was a qualified success and another followed soon afterwards at Richmond Grammar School for Girls; three members of 1984 had girlfriends at the school and they had prompted the booking.

The members of 1984 were avid music fans and though they were only in their mid-teens they perused the different venues in west London, anxious lo learn Irom bands on the circuit. A big influence on them ivas a group formed by older boys trom Hampton School called The Others, led by Pete Hammerton, who had recorded a brilliantly raucous single for Fontana Records. ‘Oh Yeah’ in 1964. There was frequent interchange of personnel between The Others and 1984, and when Brian May and Pete Hammerton shared the same stage it was regarded as a treat on the local scene. Many felt The Others shaded 1984, their sharp, raw R&B, built on The Rolling Stones’ maracas shuffle, was certainly highly authentic. Brian May and Tim Staffell were regulars at Eel Pie Island, a concert hall off the bank of the Thames in Twickenham, and they also travelled out to the Station Hotel in Richmond. The scene was burgeoning with talent and in the space of a few months they saw nascent musical legends like The Yardbirds and The Rolling Stones at extremely close quarters.

Their own concert diary began to fill up steadily and 1984 soon found themselves playing at least one gig each week. They recognised that Brian was their most talented member, and in fact speculated several times that he might be ‘poached’, but the seat of power within the band was ambiguous. «1 probably did as much of the organising as anyone, but it was a committee rather than anything autocratic.» said Dave Dilloway. «There was no real strong focal point. We’d all sort out bookings, it would really depend on which one of us was asked. Nothing was ever written down and it was done pretty much word of mouth.».

Richard Thompson felt the group’s strength lay in the vocal harmonies. «We were just a normal cover versions band but the singing impressed me most,» he said. «Tim had a strong voice and was also a very good harmonica player.

The harmonies from Brian and John were excellent. They were a friendly bunch. I suppose I was the outsider because I didn’t go to the same school, but it didn’t feel that way. We played pretty straight music. We used to listen to Pink Floyd, and Cream were influential later on but at the beginning we were into Chuck Berry and people like that.».

The teen groups of the mid-Sixties were the early pioneers of rock music in a group format. There was very little subtlety or guile and most were run on effervescence and spontaneity. Inevitably, as in any novel genre, there was confusion about the ground rules. Many bands became almost Vaudevillian in their approach, believing they should put on a good, lively show at all costs, introspection in its many forms was to arrive several years later 1984 soon developed a theatrical bent. «We did jokey things, it was all very schoolboyish,» said Tim Staffell. «We’d have daft little props like shaving foam and polystyrene bricks. It was an expression of naivete. I think we thought people would be impressed with that sort of thing and remember us as a good act. We were competing with lots of other teenage bands to make a bit of dough on Saturday night. It was all very lightweight and frothy.».

One of their regular bookings was at the Thames Boat Club on the river at Putney. Sometimes they played for up to three hours and their equipment was excellent for a local band; Brian May bought his amplifier from the wages of two summer jobs, one working in a factory making windscreen wipers and the other, as a clerk at a fire extinguisher company.

Brian May did not neglect his studies and when he left Hampton Grammar School in the summer of 1965 he had ten ‘0’ Levels and four ‘A’ Levels in physics, maths, applied maths and additional maths. He had been an exemplary pupil, committing himself to a wide range of school activities. He was a member of the dramatics society and his first stage role was as a woman, Lydia Languish in Sheridan’s The Rivals. This was followed by another role as a woman - a proverbial necessity at an all-boys’ school - Lady Mary Lazenby in The Admirable Crichton. Brian May was also a member of the school choir, secretary of the debating society, and a senior prefect. His academic brilliance led to him being offered an open scholarship in physics at London’s Imperial College of Science and Technology.

Brian’s achievement made a four paragraph story in the Middlesex Chronicle where it was revealed the scholarship would amount to £75 per year.

It was apparent that the nature of 1984 would alter significantly as they went into higher education. They were all from respectable middle-class homes and there was no question that they would eschew their education for the group. Still, they were too devoted to actually split up, so resolved to adopt a different approach. John Sanger, though he was to rejoin several years later, left ostensibly on a permanent basis when he took up a degree course in technology at Manchester University. He had played just a handful of concerts before his departure. «I had no grand plans to become a star musician, music was a sideline.» he said. «At that stage, I would have thought, of them all, that Brian had the makings of being a success in music.».

Tim Staffell was accepted on a graphics course at Ealing College of Art, so it meant he and Brian May were still in close proximity and could continue with 1984. Dave Dilloway was reading electronics at Southampton University but travelled to west London most weekends on his motorcycle to arrange songs with them. They also sent cassettes to each other with new parts for songs and vocal harmonies they wanted to rehearse when they reunited. Brian May started at Imperial College in October 1965, studying physics and infra-red astronomy. A large part of his college work was dedicated to interferometry, the study of dust in the solar system.

Although their gigging was now curtailed, 1984 were still intermittently back on the roads around west London at the beginning of 1966, playing covers of Rolling Stones, Beatles, Yardbirds and Spencer Davis songs. On their version of ‘Yesterday’ Brian would sing the lead vocals and the other band members, already impressed by his guitar playing, were astounded by his strong singing voice. Sometimes they were duty bound to play marathon shows, providing the entertainment at functions from 7 pm to 1 am, during which time they would perform up to 50 songs, and drummer Richard Thompson was asked to play lengthy solos to fill in time. On one occasion they supported a snake dancer and had to share dressing room space with the reptile. Brian used his contacts at Imperial College and 1984 often played there, usually in a different hall but on the same night as relatively established groups like Marmalade, Steampacket and Tomorrow.

Dave Dilloway was able to commit himself more fully to 1984 when he left his university course after just one year. He had not taken to the heavily theoretical nature of the course and opted instead to study for an HND in electronics at Twickenham College of Technology. He had found work with Electronic Instruments Ltd in Richmond and it agreed to sponsor his studies.

While he was on the course he met some students who were attached to Thames Television. They were looking for a group to help them practise their sound engineering. Dave volunteered the services ot 1984 and during the spring of 1967 they spent a day at the television studios in Broom Road, Teddington. They recorded a dozen songs, ten of them covers, the other Uvo different versions of a Brian May/Tim Staffell composition called ‘Step On Me’. «It was a very large studio, big enough for an orchestra.» said Dave Dilloway. «We did all the songs in the space of an evening. Brian liked to get his bits right and he stopped a few times to re-tune his guitar. It was good fun, there was no pressure on us.».

The tape was an excellent snapshot of 1984, except the main sound engineer placed far too much emphasis in the mix on John Garnham’s rhythm guitar, to the point of obscuring many of Brian May’s lead runs. At one point on the tape, John Garnham can be heard advising the engineer to turn up his guitar because he is about to play some lead. In the background, Brian May can be heard shouting. ‘Oh, you bastard’ as he realises he is to be buried even deeper in the mix.

Brian May was back in a recording studio in April 1967 when he was invited to play on some songs recorded by his old school friend, Bill Richards. Bill had formed the folk/rock group, The Left-Handed Marriage in 1965 with Jenny Rusbridge, Henry Deval and Terry Goulds. Unlike Brian, who was absorbed by the notion of the group format, Bill Richards wanted to establish himself primarily as a songwriter. He had spent his childhood surrounded by classical music and with The Left-Handed Marriage as his vehicle, he wanted to write songs merging the techniques of classical scores with the undiluted pop of The Beatles. In the event, the group concocted modest, whimsical pop in the mode of Al Stewart or Donovan.

In January 1967 the group released the album. ‘On The Right Side Of The Left-Handed Marriage». Only 50 copies were pressed on vinyl since its main function was to attract interest from music publishers. Soon after its release a British publisher (whom Bill Richards steadfastly refuses to name, though Dave Dilloway remembers as Ardmore & Beechwood} did indeed contact him. Brian Henderson, an auxiliary member of the British psychedelic group. Nirvana, had connections with the company and he championed Bill Richards’ talents. He suggested that some of the tracks should be re-reLorded mid Riehurds, realising the music needed ‘thickening’, sent a letter to Brian May’s home in Belmont Grove, Chiswick, inviting him to quest in the studio. «He wrote to me to say he’d liked the tape I’d sent him and hoped we would be favoured with connubial bliss!» said Bill Richards.

Originally Brian May planned to invite the rest of 1984 to perform on the session at a small studio in Twickenham scheduled for April 4, 1967, but, in the event, only he played. He provided guitar and backing vocals to four songs: ‘I Need Time’, which later became ‘Give Me Time’ when it was discovered a song of (he same name had already been recorded by someone else; ‘She Was Once My Friend’: ‘Sugar Lump Girl’: and ‘Yours Sincerely’, the latter being fundamentally a backwards re-run of ‘Give Me Time’ with lyrics borrowed from the Russian writer. Pushkin.

The strength of the tracks encouraged the publishers to invest some money in The Left-Handed Marriage and they were booked into the prestigious Abbey Road Studios in London’s St John’s Wood on June 28. Again, Brian May was asked to contribute and this time he was joined by Dave Dilloway. They were driven to the session by Terry Gould’s dad in a Commer van and were met at the studio by an A&R man from the publishing company who tailed to spot Brian May’s competence. In fact, he was completely nonplussed. «He certainly didn’t know a good guitarist when he saw one.» said Bill Richards. «He was sardonic and showed no appreciation of Brian’s skills. Someone mentioned a solo Brian had played and this A&R man said. ‘Solo? What solo?’ We didn’t know whether he meant it was too short to be called a solo or whether he was being sarcastic.» They recorded just two tracks. ‘I Need Time’ and ‘She Was Once My Friend’. «The publishers stayed interested.» said Bill Richards. «They said, ‘Don’t worry, boy, we think you’ve got a good group. Just leave it to us. Somebody’s got to be interested. If EMI don’t want it, we’ll take it somewhere else.».

Brian May’s work with The Left-Handed Marriage became more protracted than first expected but he had pointed out in his first letter to Bill Richards that he would help them ‘on the understanding that it wouldn’t interfere with his commitment to 1984’. Once more the publishers called for another visit to the studio, so on July 31. 1967, The Left-Handed Marriage, now augmented by bassist/pianist John Frankel and drummer Peter ‘I rout as well as Brian May. recorded at London’s Regent Sound Studios They laid down three songs, T Need Time’, ‘She Was Once My Friend’ and a song Bill Richards had written on a trtp to Devon, Appointment’. None of Bill Richards songs were ever placed with an artist and he and Brian May drifted apart after they had met for the last time at Bill’s wedding in February 1969. Bill is now the head teacher at a secondary school in Buckinghamshire.

Among his group of close friends, Brian May developed a reputation for forgetfulness and meticulousness. «He was a fiddler, tt took him an awful long time to get his amplifier right, and his tuning,» said Dave Dilloway. «He was forever trying to get his sound dead right. He played a lot of the gigs facing the wrong way. He’d have his back to the audience as he twiddled the knobs on his amplifier. Like a lot of very clever people he was not always one hundred per cent worldly. He was fairly forgetful, his mind was on higher things if you like. He was not a mad professor type, but he could never remember where he’d left his coat.»

In fashion terms, Brian May trailed the rest of 1984, who were all moderately cool in their polka dot shirts and jackets heavy with brass buttons. Richard Thompson and Tim Staffell would regularly embark on shopping trips to Carnaby Street and the King’s Road. In September 1967 the band entered a talent competition at Croydon’s Top Rank club and Bnan wore a Royal Marine jacket he had picked up at Chelsea market. It was the boldest fashion statement he had ever made and the others expressed mild surprise. «Brian was always open-minded with ideas but he was straight in the sense of being fairly conventional.» said Dave Dilloway. «He was probably late in becoming aware of fashion, he was straight all through the hierarchy of school. I think he managed to sit on the fence for quite some time and had a constant dilemma between his straight and unconventional side. He was into all the music and everything but he was also serious about his studies.».

The haircuts in 1984 were basically Beatles mop tops, grown out slightly, so they were acceptable to both their parents and peers. Brian kept his the neatest It was to be a few years before he discovered perming lotion and adopted a bubbly haircut, perhaps to soften his rather angular and spindly physique. The Beatles haircut was then gone for ever, replaced by a shaggy look which, like his famous guitar and arched playing posture, was to become an authentic rock outline.

At their heat of the talent competition, 1984 played just four songs, The Everly Brothers’ ‘So Sad (To Watch Good Love Go Bad)’, Jimi Hendrix’s ‘Stone Free’, Buddy Knox’s ‘She’s Gone’ and Eddie Floyd’s ‘Knock On Wood’. They were voted the winners and won a reel of Scotch tape and a CBS album each. Tim Staffelt claimed Simon and Garfunkel’s ‘Sound Of Silence’, while Brian had to make do with a Barbra Streisand LP. The Middlesex Chronicle ran a piece about their success and Brian provided a typically solemn comment: «We want to be able to play well enough to respect ourselves.» Unfortunately 1984 were not the overall national victors in the contest so missed out on the first prize of a recording contract with CBS Records, the competition sponsors.

Their home-spun dreams of winning the talent competition paled in May 1967 when they were asked to support Jimi Hendrix at Imperial College. ‘Hey Joe’ and ‘Purple Haze’ had already been Top Ten hits and the concert came just two days after the release of his third consecutive smash, ‘The Wind Cries Mary’. Brian Jones of The Rolling Stones was backstage with Hendrix, looking particularly gaunt and sickly, but it was nevertheless an early tinge of glamour for 1984. There was actually a fleeting contact with Jimi Hendrix when he opened his dressing room door as they passed and asked Tim Staffell: «Which way’s the stage, man?».

Some music business types (no one bothered to ask their names or actual job titles) saw 1984 appear at the London School of Economics in the autumn of 1967 and were impressed. «We were a cut above your average local band and by then we were quite slick I suppose.» proffers Dave Dilloway. These ‘pleasant enough characters’ told 1984 they were involved in the promotion of a massive concert. ‘Christmas On Earth’, to be held at the Olympia in Kensington just two days before Christmas. Although the concert was to feature a bevy of famous names, among them limi Hendrix, Pink Floyd. Tyrannosaurus Rex and Traffic, they were convinced they could find a half hour spot for 1984.

The day of the concert began felicitously when the band were given a clothing budget and taken to Carnaby Street to buy stage gear. They signed a contract of sorts, promising, they believed, that they would remain with their new benefactors it their performance that night brought forth a record deal. Their planned set would focus mainly on soul covers and, as a mark of respect to a fellow performer also on the bill, they decided to drop the Jimi Hendrix covers.

December 23. 1967, turned out to be a lifetime in a day for 1984, a day when they were unequivocally inducted into the mean realities of lite as a novice rock group. They arrived at the venue at 3 pm as arranged. During the afternoon and early part of the evening they had to wait patiently, ever so patiently, while bands higher on the bill fastidiously ran through their sound checks. Another snare drum crack, another swamp of echo, another ‘one, two, one two’ on the mike. It seemed interminable. They were led to the stage at 1 am, only to learn it was a false call. Eventually, fourteen hours after their first arrival, they took the stage at 5 am without a sound check - as the fifteenth band on the bill - and played to an audience already feeling the first pangs of a hangover from their excesses of a few hours earlier.

They were ‘pretty knackered’ but gave what they considered a reasonable performance. When they left the stage they discovered their money had been stolen from the dressing rooms and their vans and cars had been towed away by police. «We were all tarted up, in make-up, with our hair done and we had to walk the three or four miles to the police compound in Hammersmith.» said Dave Dilloway. «Our coats were in the cars, so we were freezing as well. I remember we had to do our Christmas shopping the next day, practically falling asleep. I look back on it now as an adventure.» After the concert, incidentally, 1984 saw no more of their recently discovered patrons but were content to get ‘some decent clothes out of it.’ Brian May’s interest in 1984 was beginning to wane. He relished his university course, he was drawing close to his finals, and although an excellent degree was almost assured, he was still keen lo absorb himself in studies. He was heavily involved in a project to observe zodiacal light in Switzerland and supervised the building of a hut on a mountain called Testa Crigia, near the Malterhorn. He also built his own spectrometer and spent time in the hut making observations until the extremely cold weather made it impossible to work.

There were no scenes with the members of 1984 when Brian May announced he was leaving. He promised to remain with them or stand-in temporarily until they found a replacement. «We were only doing it for the tun and a bit of pocket money.» said Dave Dilloway. «Even if someone had offered us a record contract I’m not sure we would have taken it. I would have been very tempted to stay in my day job. At that time I wasn’t really one for taking risks. Even at the end we were jusl a covers band, we were happy with that, although Brian and Tim might have wanted to do more of their own stuff. It wasn’t a big deal though. Brian would put some ideas forward and if we didn’t like them he’d change pvem slightly or just leave it.».

Richard Thompson recalls Brian May and Tim Staffell introducing their own songs at rehearsals. «I think they wrote about three or four numbers,» he said. «It was an issue that was never pushed. Their songs were excellent, full of tittle harmonies. I didn’t think they’d come up with a number 1 hit, but it certainly wasn’t any old rubbish. There was some good ideas m therebut they were nothing like Queen songs.».

Watching Brian May’s rapid musical development, the others cove, he had grown out of 1984. «1984 was never a real search for stardom for any of us.» said Dave Dilloway. «We weren’t out to break the world of pop, where Smile had those intentions, and Queen definitely did.».

Tim Staffell, who had quickly learned to play lead guitar with no small degree of skill, took over from Brian May and also continued to sing. Tim fronted 1984 for about eight months before he also left to form a new group with Brian. He had considered 1984 without Brian May as a ‘rather dull band’. “1984 always existed in an environment of change because we were all on the cusp of leaving school and going to college”said Tim Slaffell. “It meant we all knew we would have to readjust so ultimately 1984 was on a hiding to nothing”g.

Brian May and Tim Staffell kept in close contact and it would appear that Brian as the catalst for their collaboratue song writing. “Brian was the first to write a song on his own’ said Tim Staffell. He presented it to 1984 as a complete song. Personally it was a trigger for my competitive instincts. Brian’s early songs were far superior to mine. Academically he was far more musical. Sometimes I’d come up with a couple of chords and wed knock them into a song together The lyrics always came last».

Meanwhile undaunted by a fluctuating line up 1984 acquired a new singer Richard Marney and survived for a few more years. They were content to be regarded as a solid covers group, strictly amateur with a professional bent in performance. They secured a regular spot at social functions held y Thames Television in their canteen. John Garnham, his studies over, had returned to west London and 1984 ,and his job with Thames Television led to this regular booking. The socials eventually became infrequent, down to just two each year by the early Seventies, and without them really noticing, 1984 had died what Dave Dilloway calls a ‘natural death’. A brief claim to fame for Dave Dilloway came in 1973 when a group with whom he was playing. Amity, appeared on the television talent competition, Opportunity Knocks.

In 1990, the line up of 1984 which had featured Brian May was reunited by Oueen’s fan club. They met at Dave Dilloway s home in Surrey and swapped stories while they sat around in the back garden. Charactenstically, Brian May was half way down the front garden path before he realised he’d left his coat in the car. He told the others he had not brought along his girlfriend, Anita Dobson, because he had not wanted to turn it into a ‘showbiz occasion’. Instead, he drank lager from a can, strummed his very first guitar, an Egmond, which he hid swapped with Dave Dilloway many years before, and generally seemed to be much the same man they had last made close contact with nearly twenty- five years before. “He is just one of nature’s nice guys” said Dave Dilloway. “I was amazed that he seemed untouched by it all. He is not the big “I am”. He is very humble and he came to our modest semi and blended in so well. He is a very good listener. He stops and listens unlike some people who give you the impression that they are about to rush off at any moment. He has a hell of a heart in him».

Date: 2015-02-16; view: 620