The gift of a drumstick and much more....
Fuzz Townshend gave me a drumstick at Bearded Theory last year. This is why that small act meant so much to me.
In May of 1996 my first wife died.
I'd been married to Karen (pronounced care-ann) Taylor (née Daniels) for 2 weeks.
The story isn't about that. It's about the period after.
I'd moved to Wolverhampton to live with Karen, about 20 miles from my friendship group in Burntwood. When she died, I was pretty much out there on my own.
Except I wasn't.
There was always something going on that meant I had to drive back to Burntwood or some location partway between Wolverhampton and Burntwood to meet with my friends.
I mean, it's pretty obvious in hindsight, but not so much at the time; my friends were making sure I didn't have too much time on my own to spiral into despair and depression. They contrived to make sure there was always something I had to come out for. And this wasn't just for a few months. They did this for years.
In the August of the following year, some of them dragged me to my first Festival, Reading 1997.
My friendship group had grown out of the Venture Scout troop I was a member of, so camping with them wasn't anything new to me. But a festival was.
The festival was incredible. Suede, Cast, James, The Manics, The Orb. I'd never experienced anything like it. Unfortunately, as with much of my life and, in particular, the years after Karen died, my memories of it are unclear and patchy.
One thing I do remember quite clearly is Bentley Rhythm Ace.
As I recall, they played twice at Reading 1997, on different stages.
(The following is what I remember.... it may not be 100% accurate [I used to think this happened in 1996 until I checked the line ups for Reading], but it is the memory that I cherish.)
On the Saturday night, I'd drifted away from my friends at the main stage because I wasn't overly interested in the act there. It might have been (shock-horror-blasphemy) either The Orb or Manic Street Preachers. I was walking past the Dance Tent, and an act was on that I'd kind-of heard of from The Midlands - Bentley Rhythm Ace. The tent was rammed, people were crowding outside of the doors to see, but I pushed my way in.
On stage was this rag-tagged ensemble of performers who looked like nothing I'd experienced before. Long before I found an affinity for club music or dance clubs, this was what I imagined a dance music recording studio to be, but if it had been magicked onto a stage as a live act.
There were guitarists (I think.. it might just have been Richard March on bass). There was DJ on "the decks". There were stage props and there was much bouncing around.
And there was a drummer... a whirling dervish of a man. In 1997 he kinda looked like Peter Andre, but he drummed like the Muppet's Animal on copious amounts of speed. Mr Fuzz Townshend. I'd never seen drumming like it. In my memory, the set was mixed like a non-stop DJ set straight from one tune to another, with tempo changes and call backs and much chicanery. And it was all at 128bpm+.
I'd had a bit to drink. I was on my own. I was at this weird festival event. And I was in the middle of one of the worst times in my life (and here's hoping nothing to come will be worse.)
And this band.... this performance.. the music was incredible. And driving that whole thing was the drummer... Fuzz Townshend.
I've done my share of performances, as a DJ at weddings, birthdays, club nights and stuff. I've done a few public events, such as the monthly Community Cinema in Burntwood. I know what it's like to do one of those things you just do cos it's what you do. And how different that is from how the people there might experience what you do.
As I say, my memory of my life is poor. But my memory of that moment is clearer to me than most of the things I've done or experienced. That moment, to me, was transformative. That moment led to the day, which led to that weekend being a moment when I picked myself up and started to live the rest of my life. After Karen.
BRA played a second set on the Sunday. The main stage (Metallica, Terrorvision, Bush) wasn't a consideration on that day. It was all about seeing Bentley Rhythm Ace again. And it was incredible.
In May of last year (2024), Sharon (MrsVark - the current Mrs Taylor) and I saw Bentley Rhythm Ace at Bearded Theory. It was probably the 6th or 7th time we've seen them live in the last 3 or 4 years, each time superb - she's as big a fan as I am. (The gig at The Lexington in London on 5th March '22 was a particular stand-out ).
Video from the March 22 gig showing Fuzz Townshend drumming like a maniac a full 25 years after the 1997 performance......
https://photos.google.com/photo/AF1QipOWrexBcsQyJRD8HMbslg_cvhLwjgR0t2jtvMPN
At the end of the gig, I found myself right at the front when Fuzz came out to pack his kit away. On a whim, I gestured to him that I'd quite like a drumstick if he'd be so kind and all that. And, fuck-me, I received a drumstick. WHOLLY FUCKING SHIT! I'VE GOT A FUZZ TOWNSHEND DRUMSTICK!!!
There's a moral of the story here somewhere... I think; a reason why I've been wanting to write this since May 2024. And it might be.. you won't always know how someone receives the work or the things that you do. It might not be great, but that's OK - it's not your fault - things are going on that you can't possibly know. But it could, sometimes, be incredible beyond what you could expect. If that's the case... well done you.. thank you for putting something into the world that has made someone's day/week/year.
If, in some unexpected way, Fuzz Townshend or any of Bentley Rhythm Ace should read this tripe.. I'd want to say "Thank you". Thank you for the music you made in the 90s that touched one particular fan in a way that helped put him on a better emotional path. And thank you, Fuzz, for the gift of a drumstick that reminds him of that formative moment.
