Touring with HAWKWIND. Part 2. A surprising problem with my Roland synth and other adventures.

In my excitement, I am sure I was a bit unfair to my wife and children and, when the chauffeured car arrived to take me to the airport, I just gave them all a quick hug and a kiss and jumped in with my small bag. My wife,in one sensible moment, had whispered in my ear, "I don’t want to hear about things that may happen, just phone me from time tp time." I knew she was talking about women, groupies, and I knew I wouldn’t be telling her about anything like that.

Suddenly we were at Heathrow where I was met by a little man with very blond hair, Jeff Dexter, who was the Tour Manager. As I was to discover, he liked playing being in charge and you had to let him know that you expected him to treat you right and not let him push you around. But these were very early days and I had to get to know everybody in our party and build up some sort of relationship with all of them. Jeff handed me my passport and told me that they had been unable to get me a work visa, just a tourist one. I later discovered that this was because of the agreement between the US and British Musicians Union that for every British band touring the US, there had to be an American band touring the UK and that the number of band members had to be the same, Hawkwind had been paired with a 5-piece US band so only 5 people could get work visas and I was number 6.

Not to worry I was told: you’ll just get in as a tourist. 

My Roland SH1000, Roland's first ever synth. Should have kept mine as they are now worth quite a lot.

Then Dave Brock turned up with my Roland SH1000 mono synth under his arm. It had been at his farm since I had been up there helping construct some loops for his EMS Suitcase synth. “I thought it might come in handy. I’ve always liked that synth,” he said smiling. “You can take it on as hand luggage”. “But I’ve only got a tourist visa," I replied,"It’ll look a bit suspicious”. “Oh, we’ll get one of the roadies to carry it off for you. Don’t worry about it,” he said in jocular fashion. In fact, one of the roadies came over and relieved me of it and I didn’t see it again till rehearsals in Brooklyn a couple of days later.

I’ve been to the States several times since this first visit but the first is always the most impressive. And this was by far my longest plane journey: I had only been to France or Morocco before. But the time flew by (sic) and suddenly we could see the bright lights, millions of them. so surprising after several hours of nothingness out the window. I presumed it was New York but my neighbour, one of the band crew, told me that it was Boston. And the lights continued all the way till we landed at Kennedy Airport where it was snowing slightly.

Of course, I got pulled by Immigration officials asking me about my plans and I explained I was here to follow my favourite band around the country as they toured and they asked me how much money I had on me to pay for this expedition. While we had been going through this interrogation, Jeff Dexter had been cramming 100 dollar bills into my back pocket which I was abe to produce to convince the officials I could be let into the country. Wow, a lucky escape! Of course, as soon as we were through immigration and customs, Jeff asked for all the money back. I did tell him I didn’t have any money with me at all and it was before the era of plastic. Jeff just said, “ I'll be giving out the first week’s per diems tomorrow morning. Don’t spend it too fast!” Per diems was the money we received daily for our spending needs: it was set at 10 dollars a day. I also received 60 pounds a  week wages which went direct into my bank account back home.

We drove into Manhattan through the falling snow and arrived at our hotel, the City Squire, which seemed rather classy. It turned out that I was to be sharing rooms with Dennis Smith, the sound engineer. Now, I’d known Dennis for quite a long time as he and his wife Denise lived in North Devon too and they had a young child of a similar age to my second. They were known in our circle as being rather snobbish and over-protective of their little boy. Still, I thought I could get on all right with him and at least it was someone I knew. The last thing I remember of that day was Dave telling me that in the morning, after breakfast, we would go and buy something for me to wear on stage, to fit my persona.

New York's famous Sheraton City Squire Hotel on 7th Avenue, Manhattan

When we woke up and looked out the window, the streets were covered in thick snow but snowploughs were busy clearing the main streets, like ours, big snow ploughs for the road and small ones for the side walks. We had a wonderful (and comparatively cheap) breakfast in the hotel and then wearing as many clothes as I had, set out in the freezing air to have a walk around. I ended up quite a bit in front of the others and suddenly a voice called out to me. It was a black guy standing in a shop doorway. “Hey, can you do up my top coat button," he said,"My hands are too frozen, I can’t do it.” Being totally naive I went up to him and was using my hands to try and do up his buttons when two other black guys appeared from nowhere and began to try all my pockets. My first morning in New York and I was being mugged already. Luckily, the rest of our crew arrived and the three black guys melted away. Dave reminded me we had to buy my stage gear and we went into an army surplus store where he chose a one-piece tank crew, camouflaged outfit and an army balaclava. “There." he said. "Your persona will be The Terrorist." There were less of those about back then and I thought It looked OK so we bought it.

That afternoon, Dave treated me to a sauna in the hotel, another first for me, and chatted about how he was determined that Sonic Assassins were to replace Hawkwind and he was going to explain all this to Sire Records who distributed Hawkwind in the States. "Once Simon has left to join Bowie, we’ll start promoting this new name in radio interviews wherever we go. But don’t mention it to Bob. He’s in a funny mood." 

It was true. I hadn’t really seen him except waiting in line to get on our plane. We had all been out together for a bite of lunch except Bob who was hiding in his room being paranoid. So Dave suggested that him and me would put on balaclavas and pretend to attack him in his room. We went to his door, knocked and when he answered the door rushed him and asked for all his money in threatening voices. Bob nearly died of fright as we forced him down onto the bed and then nearly cried with relief when we took our masks off. But I think he took a while to forgive me for this prank.

We were all invited out to dinner with record company people that evening and had a slap-up meal before going to the cinema to see Star Wars which had just come out and we saw it on a huge screen with surround sound and it was the most amazing film I had ever seen.

Dennis had not come out because he thought he had flu and wanted a doctor. Jeff Dexter said he’d have to pay for it himself and phoned one who came, said he had a bad cold, gave him some paracetamol and charged him 70 dollars, a week’s per diems. Dennis couldn’t believe it and got quite distressed.

We were meant to be rehearsing the next day but, because of the snow, our equipment was still stuck in the airport so we had a day off. I was quite surprised when Dave and Bob asked me if I’d like to come with them to see Close Encounters which was also just out. That was also a great film on a huge screen and I made a note that I would have to take my kids to see both of these new films. Afterwards we went out and had another good meal with quite a few drinks and during this they told me that I wouldn’t be playing the first gigs at the Bottom Line Club because the full music press would be there and Simon was still with us. We would both play keyboards at the next venue which was in Milwaukee. I didn’t mind. I could just hang out and watch the set which I had never seen with this particular batch of tunes.

The celebrated BOTTOM LINE CLUB, NYC

I was sat in my room having just made a quick call to my wife when I got a call from the roadies who were setting up our gear in a rehearsal hall in Brooklyn. They told me it wouldn’t work at all and would I give them permission to open it up and look for the problem. I told them it had been working fine last time I’d used it and that, sure, they could look and see what the problem was. They rang me back 5 minutes later and said that my synth had bags full of grass inside and what should they do with it!! I told them to phone Dave cos it must be his. So that’s why he wanted to bring my synth on the tour. To smuggle a load of grass with us which he could then sell to other members of the band and the crew.

I was initially furious. What if I had carried my synth off the plane and been investigated by Customs after the Immigration people? I could have gone to prison in New York for a very long time. I didn’t see Dave until we got to the rehearsal hall and when I tackled him about it he just said that he didn’t think I’d mind and that he would give me a bag (not a very big one) for nothing as compensation. The rehearsals were difficult as I was trying to come to terms not only with new tunes, not always in the key I thought they were in, and a totally new synth where you could programme and save 4 sounds. Yes, 4. It doesn’t seem believable now. So I muddled my way through. Bob soon had had enough and didn’t seem pleased that we were having to rehearse just for my sake although there were also arguments between drummer and bass player and Dave seemed disinterested.

We stopped and Simon King said to me,"I’m fed up with this waiting around. Shall we go back to the hotel by the Subway. I noticed a station just outside". I said,"Fine" and we left. We looked at the map of the NY system and decided we needed to change at a particular station. We got off and saw to our horror that we were the only white people in a very crowded station and that a lot of these people were giving us the evil eye. We just wanted our train to come along before we got the shit kicked out of us!!

TO BE CONTINUED. Part 3 Bob Weir, The Bottom Line, and Laughing Gas in Taxis.