Torch56

Express and Star, November 29th, 1968. He of Green Door fame. Blue Max is a name synonymous with the Catacombs but before he joined that roster he DJ'd at the Connaught in 1971. The playlist was not exclusively northern but I do recall hearing, Festival Time, Billy Harner, Run Baby Run, Los Canarios, and Doris Troy, amongst others. In 1973 a coach left the Connaught on Friday nights bound for Whitchurch for an evening session that was well attended with punters from Stoke and the north-west, as well as Wolverhampton. 'Countdown' and 'Working at the Go Go' were both examples from a playlist that has rarely been bettered. The venue played host to northern soul again in the late 80s when one of the hotel's smaller rooms was utilised. Doug Banks was a popular sound then, as I recall.

Here's a Twisted Wheel flyer from June, 1969.

Express and Star, Friday, November 28th, 1968. Root 'n' Jennie Jackson made numerous appearances at The Twisted Wheel throughout its Whitworth Street existence. Jenny was more often spelt with a Y but this was not the first time that misspelling featured in Catacombs' adverts, nor was it to be the last. Another interesting feature of these early adverts is the emphasis on live acts rather than records. Later on this situation was to be reversed. In my time the only live acts to perform did so in the autumn of 1972. From memory I think I recall Major Lance, Fontella Bass, and Bob and Earl. If I'm honest, none of them made any impression on me and I just wanted the records back on. I do recall that as Major Lance was performing, Max had 'You Don't Want Me no More' cued up and ready to go. I was not one of the crowd calling for the Major to prolong his live appearance. Heresy, I know.

Express and Star, Saturday, November 23rd, 1968.

Fairly sure Guy played Paper Moon on Terry Christian's show on Radio Derby, late 80s.

After the postponement of the opening night a week earlier, here's the Express and Star advert for the actual event. The House of Lords has been replaced by Ossie Layne, who has been written about in another thread. The Saturday session was to feature Mike Raven as was originally intended.

As can be seen above, Ossie Layne was the main attraction at the opening of the Catacombs back in 1968.

This was Mike Raven's theme tune and introduced his R and B show on Radio One on Sunday evenings between 1967 and 1971. After the postponement of the club's advertised opening, Mike eventually made his Catacombs' debut on Saturday, November 23rd, 1968.

Things not going to plan. CATACOMBES? With an E? "Circumstances beyond our control"? Mr Dobson would not have been pleased.

Express and Star, Thursday, November 14th, 1968.

Mike Raven, number 16 in the above photograph, was earmarked to be the first named DJ at the Catacombs on Saturday, November 16th, 1968. The opening of the club was delayed by a week and consequently Mike made his initial appearance at the club on Saturday, November 23rd. The securing of Mike's services was something of a coup for Steve Dobson, the club's owner, as he was a high profile Radio One DJ, as can be seen in the image above. He was given a slot at 6pm. on Sundays to present his R and B show and this ran through to 1971, when I first heard it. That year saw a number of reissues and I recall him reviewing, Someday We're Gonna Love Again and Festival Time, amongst others. The uncanny resemblance to Vincent Price was not entirely coincidental. He had a fascination with the occult and appeared in a number of horror films in the early 70s. Sadly, Mike passed away in 1997 and was buried on Bodmin Moor, in a grave he had dug himself. The subsequent obituaries in a number of esteemed publications did not mention his Catacombs' connection, but it was further evidence that this particular Radio One DJ was no Smashy or Nicey.

Carl Dene who, as Farmer Carl , was one of the first Catacombs DJs has just referenced this advertisement in The Catacombs Club Soul Club Facebook page.

Advert taken from the Express and Star, Monday, November 11, 1968.

I have no recollection of the record being played before that last morning, neither as an 'ender' nor as an item in a main spot. It did get plays, from what I heard, earlier in 1971, but I was not there to hear it. From conversations I had with attendees, who saw that night out to the bitter end, the choice of Walter Jackson as the final record was a major talking point. Opinions were not particularly negative, nor particularly positive. It was more that it was an unusual choice and it certainly resonated with them, and has gone on to be an integral part of the folklore surrounding the event. I can't recall there being specific records at the Catacombs that marked the end of the session, apart from a small period in 1973 when Max would play Jimmy Radcliffe to end the session. I remember this clearly since he was playing that year's Pye reissue, rather than a Stateside original. I was surprised by this given the plethora of top sounds he had in his box at that time. The clearest memory I have of an 'ender' record is that played by Richard Searling at Va Vas in August of that year when Fats Domino's 'It Keeps On Raining' brought proceedings to an end at 7 am. After 6 hours of Ben Aiken, Alice Clark, Duke Browner, et al, it seemed like particularly thin gruel. The Catacombs opened in November 1968. Between that date and July 1974, thousands and thousands of records were played at that venue. To select that record as the final play was some accolade to the song's message and to the era that was about to end.

I must agree with you, Chris, with regard to Walter Jackson. I can't be certain about when it was played at the Catacombs because it was just before my time. However, I did hear talk of it being played around September/October 1971, and around that time I did hear it when it was played by somebody in Alan S' record shop on a Saturday afternoon. Along with others, I'm sure, the idea of a Bob Dylan song being played at the Catacombs appeared most surprising, but in the same era Purple Haze also graced the decks, which also prompted raised eyebrows. Indeed Johnny Jones was one of the big sounds when I first attended the Cats in November of that year. To add to the ironic incongruity of Blowing in the Wind being played at this hallowed venue, the record itself was on OKeh. Not just on some nondescript piece of vinyl, but on one of the most iconic labels in the entire northern soul catalogue. I'm sure I don't have to list the sounds that elevate this label to its revered status, but no other record company, other than maybe Ric-tic, comes close in terms of delivering a number of items of quality, up-tempo northern soul. Blowing in the Wind was markedly out of character with what I associated with the OKeh motif. As I explained in an earlier post, like Elvis, I had left the building when Max took the decision to end proceedings at the Cats by playing the Walter Jackson version, and, though it's not personally my cup of tea, in retrospect, it was an entirely appropriate choice. It was an item that had associations with an earlier era at the club, the lyrics reflected a sense of loss that matched the mood of the occasion, and the melody and tempo both indicated the end of the night and something even more final. The choice of that record to end proceedings on the final night was the subject of many conversations in the weeks that followed, and it's interesting that it has become a component of virtually all recollections the Cats' last night down the years. Here we are now, talking about it decades later. Take a bow, Max. You showed a perception of the importance of the moment, all those years ago.

Some sad news. Eddie Szwarc, better known as Swoz passed away earlier today in New Cross Hospital. Well known in the Wolverhampton area, he was a keen collector with a passion for the music that went back to the late 60s. He was particularly proud of the role the Catacombs played in the scene's development, having been one of the club's original members. RIP.

Since posting the picture of the Catacombs sign in an earlier post, I have learnt that Phil Morgan, who was the lad in the denim jacket in the foreground of the photograph, has sadly passed away. My thanks to Steve Proudlove and Eddie Matusiak for providing that information via The Catacombs Club Facebook Page.

My apologies.