Every sticker on
my guitar case tells a story.
 |
| (Graph paper for scale) |
Each one ignites
a small memory in my head. Some are significant, others less so. It’s like an old-style suitcase plastered with labels recalling glamorous holiday
destinations, but on a budget level; most of the events they recall took place
in the North Hertfordshire.
I often catch
people reading them on the tube. They probably wonder what they mean.
Either that, or they’re drawn in by shapes and colours. Whatever the motive,
the time has come to set the record straight.
Jazzy Dave.
This chap's only purpose is to remind me of my name. His outfit suggests he’s been on my
case (non-aggressively) since the early-90s. In a way I feel sorry for him: not
only does all his hair sprout from a point mid-cranium, he hasn’t got a
nose or ears. His glasses are held on by will alone. Still. He looks happy
about it.
Music Zombie.
My friend Ash
used to book gigs under this name in the early-to-mid-Noughties. I assume it
was his thing, though I may be wrong. Most were at Hitchin Football Club. I
played there a few times on my own, around 2003-4. This was after my band had
split up and I was finding my feet.
I signed off one
set by saying ‘I’ve been Mostly David Ephgrave’. The phrase stuck. It was going to
be the title of a solo album, produced by Ash, which we never finished.
Instead, it became the kicking-off point for the name Mostly Comedy.
Sticky Zimmerman.
I went to see
Dylan at Wembley Arena in 2000. I was late for it. Despite my tardiness, I still
managed to pick up some merchandise, including these. The second one features
lyrics from one of my favourite songs, Not Dark Yet. It’s bleak but beautiful. I once recited it, Shatner-style, in a LAMDA exam. I’ve never been one for proper poetry.
Barcode.
I sometimes
store my guitar at King’s Cross Station. One time, they stuck this on it. It's not very
interesting.
The Who.
A 60s band from Ware.
The Magic Bus.
Artwork for
an album by my friend Kludo White. He also painted it. We met on my first job
after leaving drama school: Rock and Roll Heaven, a No. 1 tour for Bill
Kenwright. I was lead guitarist and he was Eddie Cochran. He was John
Lennon to my Paul McCartney in The Roy Orbison Story, which was great as we’re
both huge Beatles fans. He once sent me a painting of McCartney as a
birthday present. I took him to watch Macca record a session at Maida Vale
Studios. We’re now even.
Gaffa and Hole.
My band Big Day
Out gigged a lot at Plinston Hall in Letchworth. We supported Slade
and The Troggs there (retro line-ups being our specialty). We played an acoustic
set once, where we used my case as an impromptu bass drum. The Gaffa protected
it from the pedal’s beater, but the bottom of it still made a hole. That
tape has stayed on for sixteen years. It's pretty high-tack.
So that’s the
history of my guitar case. London Underground commuters finally have their
answers. Providing they know my full name and find this blog post. Perhaps I
should keep a few copies in my bag and hand them out as a press release. Would
that be weird?