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No Buddy Knows.


I can pinpoint the exact moment I decided I no longer wanted to be Buddy Holly.

It was at 7:31pm on Friday the 30th October 2009 in Greenock, Scotland; barely a minute into my umpteenth performance as the bespectacled 50s rock star. This had nothing to do with the town, the venue or the audience, all of whom received us generously. It wasn’t in any way related to the man from Lubbock himself, who is still a personal hero. The final straw was purely technical.

The show started with the MC warming up the crowd, while I stood in the wings - big glasses on my face and a Fender Stratocaster around my neck - awaiting my first entrance. On finishing his spiel, the MC would call for a roll on the drums and shout "Give it up for Buddy Holly". I’d then bound on from stage right, bring the drummer off (not sexually) with a downward swipe of my guitar neck, and launch into the opening riff of That’ll be the Day.

This didn’t happen in Greenock. I played the riff confidently, but nothing came out. Something wasn't working. The band stood in silence, unable to start without me. We were f**ked.

In most Actor / Muso shows you’re not on your own. There’ll be a team of people off stage, ready to help you. You’ll have a guitar tech on hand and plenty of spare equipment. Not in this instance. All we had was the cast and the Company Manager / Driver (Glyn) who was in the box, cueing the lights. If something went wrong you had to fix it yourself.

I was trapped in the spotlight with nowhere to go and no-one to help me. I looked at the guitar pedals at my feet. My set-up consisted of a guitar, a lead, a pedal, a lead, a pedal, another lead and an amp. Each piece of kit hadn’t worked at some point on the tour. Nothing had been maintained. The root of the problem could be anything.

I scrabbled about on my knees, taking pedals out, trying different set-ups, all while the audience watched in silence. The time it took me to get a sound out of my amp felt like forever. It was horrendous.

It was at that moment that I knew I was done. It didn’t help that I had to be up first thing to catch a flight down south for a long day of teaching. Things had come full circle. I’d been too many vans, stayed in too many B&Bs and been in too many similar situations. It was time to move on. After two hours of rock and roll music, that is.

I’ve done the odd Buddy gig since then, but only when the circumstances were right. I don’t see myself doing it again; certainly not long term. It’s nothing against the show or the company, who gave me a great opportunity and a lot to look back on – but sometimes you need to look to the future.

I wonder if I could make a living as Bobby Vee?

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