MartynJJ

I gathered you had moved down south as it were. Seen you pop up on a few of Coop's images now and again. I do need to take in an East Anglian event. Any reccomends? I've ended up over in Stockport. Got a thriving scene locally and some great youngsters picking up the movement but you know you can't beat a good old East Midlands shindig. Hopefully see you sooner rather than later VBR Martyn

@ MAK - thanks for the kind words and no she was from Cotgrave :-) @ Steve Phillis- I remember you very well. Suprised not to have crossed paths again recently. Some great tunes you put up there :-)

no doubt. I went by the nickname "Bonk" back then if that rings any bells.

I've not seen Tommy for nigh on 30 odd years. I heard he had some problems after dropping off the scene. I really liked Tommy a lot. Last saw Pete and Chris about 8 years ago coming out from Forest. I didn't even recognise them until Jarv sayed hello to them. I know Curly is around and about, just not bumped into each other yet but I'm sure we will soon. Oh and I met Andy Cannon again at the last Blackhearts nighter last month after 30 years. It was emmotional

Still see Kempy and Gail on a regular basis. Am in touch with Kev Husbands via Facebook

And here's a very rare image of the Palais I found after a lot of searching t'internet nottingham palais by world of andrew woodyatt, on Flickr

heres a photo of some of the Palais staff circa 1974. Mike Knight is second from the right and my dad is the chap wearing the party hat 22nd April 2012 "Notts Palais Crew" by Souled On Soul, on Flickr

Funnily enough I did a small piece on the Palais for my SouledOn Soul Facebook page a few days ago A lot of emmotional connections with that place for reasons you'll see below "Through these doors pass some of the most beautiful girls in the world" By Martyn Johnson in Souled On Soul · That was the famous and now legendary sign located above the entrance to the Nottingham Palais de Danse one of the many traditional dance hall venues owned by the Mecca Leisure group. I have a long and fond relationship with the old Notts Palais. My hometown regular all dayer venue it's the place where the first Sunday in very month we would go and offer worship and praise to the great god Northern Soul. Our own shrine to all things soul. But my relationship with this venerable Nottingham landmark started much earlier in my life and carries much more emotional attachment than simply being a placed where we danced our youth away to great dollops of soulful tunes and partaking of a chicken in a basket meal if we saved enough pennies to purchase grub in the restaurant downstairs. Normally we were restricted to the sandwiches and coka cola we could cram into our Adidas sports bags. My first encounter with the Palais came about 1971. I was 9 years old and it was Christmas. Why was I at the Palais in 1971? At Christmas? Well it was a Christmas party being held for all the children of the staff who worked at the Palais. And my late father was one of the doormen at the time. My mum and my dad separated when I was about 6 years old. Because of my dad's work he would have access to us on Sundays so we only ever really got to see him once a week. To keep his head above water he took on a job as a doorman at the Palais in his spare time, a job which he held from about 1968 to 1980ish. Now in those days doormen weren't the breed they are today. Nothing of the brutish thug looks which so typifies the modern day equivalent. My dad was always smartly dressed and I use to love watching him getting ready for work complete with his bow tie and liberal spraying of Cossack for Men hairspray (it was the early 70's ffs). I still have that velvet bow tie locked away in a box of keepsakes and memories. So in 1971 I found myself in this wonderful exotic place called the Bali Hai with strange looking plastic trees, surrounded by sandwiches, cakes and jelly, listening to "Chirpy Cheep Cheep" by Middle Of The Road. At one stage Mike Knight, the manager of the Palais for as long as I could remember shoved a microphone under my nose and asked me a few questions but I couldn't answer them, I was far too shy and embarrassed. Little did I know at the time that this place would become my second home, the place where I would hone my skills on Space Invaders when Soul Sam took to the decks (I admit I was far too young to really appreciate Mr Barnfather in those days). Fast forward to 1978. A small group of young lads would gather in Gedling and make their way to the number 50 bus about 11am. This crowd was going to get bigger as the day progressed. Off we went into town. When we got there we would amble down from King Street to Broadmarsh where I would meet with my soul gal back then (Sharon Dring if anyone remembers). Then we would amble up through Hockley. I used to love the deserted streets. No Sunday shopping throngs back then, just a feeling of having the city to ourselves. And with every step forward the laughing and shouting of teenagers in baggy trousers and circle skirts filling the empty air, the excitement building. Finally Hockley was left behind and the Palais loomed into view in all her magnificence and glory. Our first opportunity to assess the size of the queue and who we could spot. We would always aim to get in the queue early and watch it build as worshipers from all over arrived. And of course by 1.30pm that queue was lost around the corner and the back of the building. By this time our small gathering of Gedling lads had certainly grown in size. Gail and Jackie Searcy, Dave and Kev Husbands, Pete and Chris Smith, Tommy Cragg, Andy Cannon, Colin Shipstone, Mick Hancock, Tony Allen, Martin Green, Curly, Podgy (Simon Hodgkinson??) Richard Kemp, Alan Bakewell.......no doubt there's a few more I've forgotten. Then at quarter to two, a special moment. Up at the front of the queue there was my dad, resplendent in his suit and bow tie, hair neatly combed looking every inch the Dapper Dan and ladies man giving me a wave to come forward. I took Sharon by the hand, tapped Mark on the shoulder and told everyone we'd see them shortly and that was it, the 3 of us heading straight to the front doors, and in. No money changed hands, a cheery grunt from Mike Knight and we made a beeline to the big green sofas right under the DJ box to the left of the stage. And for 15 minutes we had the whole of the Palais de Danse to ourselves. We set up camp, we liberated the floor with a dosing of talc, we were joined by our mates later on and there we stayed until 10pm. I love the Palais for giving me some of the best moments in my life. I love the Palais for some of the most endearing and enduring friendships I have ever made. I love the Palais for introducing me to the first girl who would ever break my heart and putting me off rum for life. I love the Palais for taking me to a special place on a Monday night once a week and kicking the week off with a bang. But most of all I love the Palais because I got see my dad. You know that sign really should have been written "Through these doors pass some of the most beautiful SOULS in the world"

Hi Paul nice viewing but in many ways quite sad to see the pictures of her up in flames. See you soon Martyn

Sarah King, Laura West, Charlotte Hindley, and a young lady whose name escapes me (apologies to said young lady)

Ben Hindley, Danny Paton and Dave Stabler

There's a few around. Love there to be more and who know's we could be on the edge of a mini revival of some sort. What I do know is this lot are as passionate about the scene as we were both back in the day and now. https://www.flickr.com/photos/souled_on_soul/sets/72157629576288417/

so glad I was stood at the side of you when I snapped this one and not smack bang facing you Lee!! Have to say in the couple of years i've been back doing the rounds I haven't come across any trouble and long may that continue, then again I do try and pick my events carefully and go on reccomendations from others. End of the day the beer issue isn't going to go away and a membership scheme of some sorts does seem to have it's merits

well, my colours to the mast, I always use a bit when I'm giving it beans on the dancefloor. I need something to make my 4 steps look good and gives my face a chance to really concentrate on perfecting my soul gurn! Seriously, there's a place for it in moderation and thats the key. I only ever use a dab to get me through a few numbers either on the corner of a floor out of the way or better still, a small amount to the hand on then rubbed directly onto the sole of the shoe works perfectly ok. When you think about it, at the end of the day the Northern Soul Dnace floor is a pretty hazardous place to be. If your avoiding slipping on Talc you still run the risk of being met by a pair of polyveldts in the mush by a guy handstanding in your face, or a spinner whizzing uncontrollably in your direction. Or the whiplash from a pair of oversized baggy trousers or retina burn from being exposed to the full flash of bloomers from the old gal spinning in her circle skirt.