1984 UK tour program
Formatting, OCR corrections and remaining text to come later...
Bruce
Listen! I was born at the customary early age and the first pleasant experience I can recall was not being named Alan. From then until the age of twelve I played with model railways, pausing briefly only twice: once to be initiated into a game of "Doctors and Nurses" and once to run away from home. Until I left school (to become an advertising artist) I spent my evenings polishing my racing bike. Suddenly with the ownership of my first bass guitar, my fate was sealed. At the age when I should have been exploring the contents of what the girl-next-door used to hang on her washing line, I was busy exploring the equally unknown world of the bass-line — which was so soon to become my life-line, as I practised for nine hours a day to my Booker T albums. This selfless endeavour ceased after three weeks, at which point I decided I knew all there was to know about bass playing — never to pick up the accursed instrument except now and again, to scratch a living in the armpit of popular music. After which I go on to become a celebrated humourist whose opinion is much sought after.
And so in anticipation of this, I now pull at random from the filing-cabinet called "the nurd," a selection of opinions which unfortunately, I have been stuck with for a number of years.
I generally dislike unnecessary noise, boisterous behaviour and mindless prattle. Also, beginning with Sony Walkmans, I am averse to many aspects of "Japanese/American-Culture" (which it seems to me, is as much of a contradiction in terms as: "military-intelligence" "rock 'n' roll-hero" and "nuclear-defence".)
My favourite buildings are: the Temple di Sagrada Familia in Barcelona — an art nouveau masterpiece which will take another 200 years to be completed; and the Taj Mahal, about which everything that is said is true.
The only movies I ever wanted to see more than twice are: "Network", Dr Strangelove", "If" and "The Harder They Come".
I still read books by Herman Hesse (even if he is unfashionable he's not wrong). Vladimir Nabokov is technically the best novelist of the present day ("oh yeah?"); Flann O'Brien, the funniest. The serious stuff is another matter we can discuss at a more suitable opportunity.
Sometimes I think I'd like someone to give me a silver-grey Bendley S.I. Continental. You can probably guess who my favourite painters and composers are, and the best philosopher I've heard is Lucille, (B.B.'s friend, that is).
As for the ideal woman, there's a fifty percent chance that it is you.
The untold story of Mr. Maurice Wörm
Wörm was born sooner or later in the bush on the outskirts of Melbourne. Son of an Irish gambler, his father was rescued by Aboriginal warriors after an early antipodean voyage ended in shipwreck. He repaid them by mixing his devious bloodline with that of the Chief's most exotic daughter. From the very beginning Worm was a misfit, an outcast. Forced to hide his unusual features behind a mask. It was inevitable that one day he would quit the tribe and join a rock 'n' roll band.
One big break came during preparations for a fire ceremony, a phase of initiation when young males are circumsised by fire. Wörm was instructed to cut down a large branch of a Gum tree, hollow out the end and fill it with live termites. Then, to make a paint from mud and kangaroo blood and decorate it with symbols of male virility. Wörm was now armed with the most powerful instrument known to man. A magical and primitive synthesiser the Aborigines call the dijerido. It is common knowledge (even maximum knowledge) that a woman who blows the dijerido becomes instantly pregnant. It is aboriginal law that she is then sacrificed to the spirits.
The peace and tranquility of Wörm's adolescence was punctuated by the wild abandon of the walkabout. It is like a fever that drives the Aborigine to walk thousands of miles to no apparent destination. In the autumn of '83, Wörm headed off in the general direction of Ayers Rock, and would probably still be heading that way if not for that drop of Irish mischief in his blood. After several changes of direction Wörm hit the bright lights of Sydney where he found there's only one road to hell, but he couldn't read the signposts.
For a brief time he was employed at Bruce's Beanery, a café that boasts ethnic music and live sheep shearing acts. He discovered women and whiskey. In fact it was over a "long cool and cleansing" that Wörm himself was discovered and invited by the Attractions to play at Sydney Opera House. Despite the inevitable anonymity and poverty that followed, Worm maintains his original Aboriginal walkabout philosophy: music is a boomerang. Sooner or later he'll be back in your parts.
Good Evening,
Tonight's dazzling downbeat will be provided by none other than that passionate percussionist, Powerful Pierre.
This swaggering syncopater of swing, born in Sheffield 1954, first appeared live in the heady days of '64 at a small village hall in Kent banging our the beat with his schoolmates The Surfriders. He was then aged only 9.
Our thrusting thrasher of throb continued to appear in the explosive, sweaty youth clubs and dance halls of Southern England with that now legendary three piece, The Grobs.
Shortly after his 17th birthday that dazzling devil of the downbeat lied about his age and joined up with a cracking country- swing quintet called Chilli Willi And The Red Hot Peppers who in two years wore the soles off every student's sandals in England (thanks to our brilliant beat basher).
Not content, your favourite cowbell clonker packed his paradiddles and set up shop in California with rock-folk and country star John Stewart. However, his time with that Modest Monster of Melody was not long and soon the shameless shaker of shuffle arrived back on the shores of Great Britain, and the rest of the story is easy to follow in the dreamy discography of our Supreme Leader.
Powerful Pierre's Favourite Breakfast: Chips, beans, fried tomatoes, sausage, bacon and eggs.
Lunch: Tomato soup and ham sandwich.
Dinner: Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.
Favourite Movie Star: Clint Eastwood (who else!).
Likes: A good drink.
Dislikes: The next morning.
Hobby: Dennis the Menace fan club (Ding...)
P.S. Powerful would like to thank his Mum, Dad, two sisters, Granny, beautiful wife Ju Ju and Cheese for all the trouble they've caused him.
Page 2
Tour Manager: Colin 'Babbling' Waters
Stage Manager: Mick 'Vom' Taylor
Sound Engineer: Ignatius S Moss
Monitor Engineer: Steve 'Flakey' Flewin
Drums: Russ Spencer-Hurst
Guitars: Kenny 'Conan' Murray
Keyboards: Lawrence Dunnett
Lighting Designer: Royston Simmonds
Lighting Coordinator: Mick Marshall
Lighting Technician: David Walden
Lighting Technician: Steve Nolan
Lighting Technician: Simon Stephens
Rigger: Nick Gaffney
Sound Technician: Pete Varco
Bus Driver: Lance Vaughn
Truck Drivers: Ron Kilburn, Pelican
Tour Security: Paddy Callaghan
Page 3
Merchandising: Concert Publishing Inc
Booking Agent: Marsha Vlasic/ATI
Travel Agents: Acton Travel (UK)/Journeycraft (US)
Trucking: Upstaging Inc
Sound: Electrotec Productions
Lights: Zenith Lighting
Tour Coordination: Andy Cheeseman
Exclusive Global Management Representation and Career Direction: Jake Riviera for Riviera Global Record Productions.
Executive Personal Secretary to Mr. Riviera: Judith Riley
Thanks to: Jane Berk, Pierre D'Astugues, Lew Difford, Marvin Katz, Andrew Lauder, Phil Sandhaus, Paul Turner, Lyn Walsh.
Photos by: Chalkie Davies, Debra Feingold, Brian Griffin, Nick Knight, Keith Morris, Tom Sheehan, Penny Smith, Tom Wright, Karen Knodt
Programme Design: Phil Smee at Waldo's
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