Jackanory 1

[JKiF]

 

 Crackers 1975-81

Norman Jay

copyright faithfanzine

 

 

Nowadays if you stroll up towards the top end of Wardour Street close to the junction of Oxford Street, you'd be forgiven for not giving a second glance to the tacky looking joint now located between number 201 to 205. Now calling itself a "Soul Bar" complete with stars 'n' stripes, happy hour drinks and what appears (from the outside at least) to be a lap dance club - it's an ironically sad epitaph to a once legendary Soho venue.

 

For it was here down in the basement of No 203 back in the winter of 1975 that the seeds of urban London club culture were first sown. I first went there towards the end of '75 armed with the free tickets given to us by my then best mate's old man who knew we were into import funk and soul. We had eagerly looked forward to this new West End nighter for weeks as we were beginning to tire of the Thursday night soul sessions at Bluesville's House of Funk (100 Club) with Ronnie L. and Greg Edwards. We strolled in expectantly, chuffed to bits at our good fortune in blagging a free night out up West (even though it was a tuesday night and we were both under age). We were immediately brought down to earth with a bang when we discovered to our horror that we were two of about 40 or 50 other punters in the place. The night had only been up and running for a couple of weeks as they had been handing out hundreds of cheap tickets in an effort to get the punters through the doors. Even with so few people in, I was struck by the atmosphere of the place, a typical seedy Wheatley Soho dive (the Wheatley Brothers owned several small clubs /venues around North and East London at the time) that had obviously seen better days. The gaff reminded me of an old music hall. A tatty excuse of a carpet (complete with obligatory Wrigley's stains and reefer buts) surrounded a deceptively large rectangular wooden dancefloor situated right in the middle of the club - the perfect position to show off your newly learned Hustle!

 

A small raised stage played host to the nondescript DJ console (probably a crap Citronic set-up which was standard then) complemented the shrieking tannoy sound system strategically placed around the club. The room also had the most basic of lighting. Worn-out leather upholstered bench seating ran the length of the back wall of the club adding to the feeling of faded grandeur. I loved it though, especially the music and, in particular, the deejay that night: Marc Roman. He was playing a blinding selection of hot new import 45s from America by the likes of Juggy 'Murray' Jones, Donald Byrd and Eddie Drennon - all completely new sounds to me back then and it totally blew my mind.

 

I'd followed his charts in Blues & Soul and loved his taste. And after a few weeks, the most commonly uttered words round our way at that time was "You goin' Crackers?" (that's if you considered yourself a true soulboy or girl). I went back a few more times after that because I was really into the stuff Marc Roman was playing but as often the case with ground breaking new nights - its super-hip status quickly ensured its premature demise. This new underground club venue frequented mainly by an elite group of sussed West End blacks both gay and straight (and straight boys who acted gay) happily mixed with the newly emerging fashion conscious white suburban soul (Bowie) boys and early punks. Looking back, the club was too far ahead of its time to really succeed and within a few short months, due to licensing problems, the night folded.

Many notable soul jocks at the time including legendary 'Goldmine' deejay Chris Hill and the truly awful Mr Superbad (from the K-Tel TV adverts of the time) and Nicky Price were brought in to replace Roman. All tried and failed to resurrect the fortunes of Crackers.

With the fortunes of the club in the last chance saloon, the hot summer of 1976 saw Crackers re-emerge from the clubbing doldrums with a last gasp new Sunday nighter which brought new optimism. Fronted by a new DJ name to most of us Soho heads, he was brought in by the Wheatley organisation to try and save the ailing venue. The unknown and outrageously camp George Power made his first Sunday appearance that summer. The word quickly spread on the Soho Soul grapevine that this swaggering Greek-Cypriot dude from North London was 'carrying the swing' in Soho on Sundays. He had previously made his name working in various Wheatley venues around London including the famed Royalty in Southgate and Bumbles in Wood Green where he was resident jock carefully cultivating a solid and mostly black casual following which also included some of West Ham, Tottenham and Arsenal's top black terrace casual faces of the day. He still goes over Highbury to this day. His packed Sunday night sessions became an immediate success. He played the most upfront Stateside dance tunes around, often weeks, sometimes months, before they were ever released in the UK in a style that was very much his own: brash, charismatic and very camp. He was the first deejay to really unite London's lost nightlife tribes (especially the black ones), introducing us to proper underground jazz funk album tracks, original New York disco, brilliant new Philly and Salsoul releases and Latin-based jazz dance and soul tracks. His cheesy sexual double entendres on the mike - "It's time to get Jazz-ay" and "show me your poussez, lay-deez" - used to rub some of our lot up the wrong way at first but we soon got used to it and grew to love him for it. He was always ensured a rapturous response from the crowd every time he introduced a hot new track to his beloved dancers on the floor in front of him. Here the sexually charged atmosphere would be electric and close to eruption. Week after week the same faces flocked back and could be easily spotted at the bars, on the dancefloor or on those horrible leather seats. Everyone knew one another and danced their asses off till it all ended at around midnight. We hardly ever stayed right to the very end because our lot always had to chip 15 minutes early to to catch the last central line from Tottenham Court Rd to Ealing, sometimes havin' it right off with Teddy boys coming back from the Marquee on Wardour Street or caning NF scum on the platform. The music, the people, the atmosphere and, of course, the style and fashion was something you couldn't find anywhere else. This truly was London's very first club for dancers (and casuals).

 

While certain soul magazines ranted on and bigged up the largely white mainstream suburban soul scene centered around clubs such as the Lacey Lady in Ilford and The Royalty in Southgate, the establishment soul mafia jocks of the day never really acknowledged Power. This was partly because of his black mixed-gay following and also because he was considered far too 'street' for their elitist suburban tastes. We embraced him with open arms though. Here in the heart of London's West End, George Power was king! To us (and I suspect George felt the same way too) that was all that mattered. At last we had found our own 'ghetto' DJ champion laying down the law in cutting edge funk, jazz, disco and soul the way we knew it should be.

On the rare occasion he took a break, he was sometimes deputised by a tall willowy looking white dude with long hair who could also drop amazing tunes. His name was Andy Hunter. He was from 'sarf' London where most of the Crackers in-crowd originated from and his style was more jazzy than George's. On the rare occasion that both Andy and George were unavailable, one of our own was picked straight off the floor to be the first person to make the (then unheard of for a black guy) transition from punter to turntables. Though I must stress it couldn't have been me, as back then, no way did I harbour any aspirations to deejay in a West End club. I was just a dancer and fanatical buyer of nearly everything George played. The dancer in question came from Hornsey and possessed all the right credentials. He had a terrific reputation as a funky dancer, he was a local hero and favourite with the girls and the crowds. He was really the only choice: the legendary 'boogie-boy' Paul 'Trouble' Anderson made his West End debut at Crackers and I was there to witness it (cool!). His fierce no-nonsense, abrasive style of playing and unabashed youth (he was probably about 15 or 16 when he first played there) playing tune after tune (aimed squarely at the dancers on the floor because he was one of them) used to drive the club into raptures. I used to love it when George was away if only so that Paul could play some of the tracks that I would suggest and that George wouldn't necessarily play. Perhaps that's why George restricted him to only a handful of appearances during that period claiming at the time that Paul was too young and wasn't quite ready. He was probably right but I suspect he didn't want this young gun to upstage him. Paul's chance came later with the much-vaunted Friday lunchtime sessions.

 

 

George came up with a real winner when he started the Friday lunchtime sessions at the same venue. It was a real gamble that paid off handsomely. The queues went round the block right onto Oxford Street. The sessions would start at 12 noon through till 3pm (and sometimes running on till 3.30 because no-one would go home). For a paltry 50 pence in, those afternoon sessions proved an instant success. Initially, it attracted a crowd of curious West End workers on their lunch-breaks and the younger brothers and sisters of the Sunday regulars who would bunk off school, college or work just to be there. The place would be full to bursting with 'faces', some of whom were 'working' in Soho. (By that I mean street traders, touts or 'sticks men', pimps, petty criminals and casuals.) But the true lure of the club was George and the music he was dropping - absolutely awesome! I know for a fact he was directly responsible for many people (myself included) either losing jobs or failing college exams.

 

Dancers and street fashion styles played a major role in the club's rise to mythical status. For a while all manner of funky street styles were first paraded on or around the dancefloor of Crackers. From PVC/leather [***!!***] gear, mohair jumpers, plastic sandals and fashion statements from Acme Attractions and Seditionaries in the King's Road or Ken Market to red Smith's or Fiorucci carpenter jeans, capped-sleeve T-shirts, Hawaiian or baseball shirts and straight legged Levis. Later fashions at the club included 'Ball' or FU's jeans, deerstalker hats, Lonsdale boxing boots and vests, hooped navel shirts, red spotted neck ties, Lois jumbo cords, Farrah slacks, Kickers (originals) or Gola trainers, Dunlop Green Flash and the original 70s Wrangler jean jacket (all the coolest black dudes wore them); all de rigueur at Crackers long before they became mainstream fashion. I also spotted my first Pringle jumper down there, too, because this was the birthplace of the original Casual. In this club, street styles were actively encouraged (there was no dress code then). I also remember spotting labels such as Burberry, Kangol, Bally, Inega, Slazenger, Adidas and dear old Fred (a Chelsea staple).

Music and fashion always went hand in hand at Crackers. It was the attitude and the lifestyle that appealed. That was because it attracted a truly cosmopolitan mix of sussed Londoners, regular kids who lived life on the edge, kids who had this need to express themselves through the music they loved, the way they danced and the cloths they wore. And despite the different firms in the house, football rivalries were left at home on a Sunday night. I don't recall one incident of violence in all the time I went. It also boasted the capital's best dancers by a mile (many people would come down on a Sunday just to watch them).

Many of the dancers were well-known faces in clubland. They included Peter Francis (the black 'daddy' who got caned by Carlin in Scum), Mohammed 'the India rubber man' (because he could contort his body into the most impossible positions), Trevor Shakes (the Don) revered trendy London deejay and male model, Black Horace (Horace Carter, ultra trendy with dreads who always seemed to have a beautiful Sloane in tow), Clive Clarke (former EMI national disco dance champion and choreographer), Kelvin, Derrick and Eon Irving (who still DJs around London), Barry K. Sharpe (ex Duffers), Oilly, Bassey, Norman and Deejay Des Parkes. Original Grove boys Danny Jon Jules ('Cats' in Red Dwarf) and '80s rapper Dizzy Heights were also regulars. I used to occasionally spot faces like Gary 'Acieed' Haisman and Terry Farley (Boy's Own) down there (and it must be stated that Farley never ever danced) and '70s club face Tommy Macdonald. Acton's original party animal and fitness fanatic Shane 'Jabba' Henry (he was the living double of his idol Jimi Hendrix)) was also a recognisable Crackers face. There were some wicked female dancers there too - though I don't recall any by name. Typical of the conventional wisdom at the time was the popular belief that you could never pull a bird down there because most of the fantastic girl dancers were actually [***!!***]. It's true, some definitely were as I knew one or two personally. But who cares? For only 50p in (75p after 10pm because it started at 7pm) your admission ticket also got you sausage and chips in a straw basket though you'd have to be starving hungry before you could ever eat it as it tasted so bad. It was great value for less than a quid. You wouldn't get that today.

 

Not since the legendary Tiles club nearly a decade earlier (well before my time, I hasten to add) had there been a funky black club of any note in the West End of London as important and influential as Crackers. In all that time I barely missed more than a dozen Friday or Sunday sessions. I never missed an all-nighter. In that time I got to know George, Andy and, of course, Paul 'Trouble' very well.

By 1981, it was a new decade. Things had changed. Disco was dead. George Power and Crackers had enjoyed years of unparalleled success. But we were growing up and getting into new, different forms of black dance music like electro and hip hop, and fashions like New Romantic and Two Tone (not me though: I was still a casual and a soulboy). Crackers either could not or wouldn't reflect the sea-change happening in London's youth culture, and licensing problems only added to the sense that the club was coming to the end of an era. Was George Power losing his touch? No chance. He still played the tracks that mattered, but both the venue and the night had run their course. Towards the end of 1981, Crackers moved up the road to the Horseshoe on Tottenham Court Road, but it was obvious it would be temporary and, shortly after, Crackers closed its doors for the last time.

Though it's not necessarily their fault, I've always felt that over the years the UK style and music commentators have never seen fit to fully acknowledge this legendary club's massive influence on London club culture. This is the first time anyone has gone to print giving Crackers the props it so richly deserves. While there have been loads of great London clubs over the years all claiming to be (italics)the(italics) club that set the agenda and standards for the rise and rise of club culture. They're all pretenders, mate. I should know, as I've either been to or played at just about every club that has ever made such claims. This was our Wigan Casino, our Loft, our Paradise Garage. Some of London's top DJs and producers experienced their first taste of club culture at Crackers and some were directly influenced (like Paul 'Trouble', myself and others) by the deejaying skills of George Power (who, incidentally, was one of the foundling fathers of Kiss FM). We learnt a lot from him both in terms of how to entertain crowds, how to play to crowds and the importance of being able to programme good music. This club played such an important role in the birth of modern London clubbing. We at Faith feel strongly that it's contribution to popular club culture should be noted and due respect given. If you ever went there and you're reading this you'll know exactly what I'm saying. Crackers - the spiritual birthplace of soul-loving casuals and top music.

 

Norman Jay

 

1. Dawson Smith - 'I Don't Know If I Can Make It'

2. Reuben Wilson - 'Got To Get Your Own'

3. Juggy 'Murray' Jones - 'Inside America'

4. Average White Band - 'Pick Up The Pieces'

5. Barry Waite Unlimited - 'Sting'

6. Zebra Crossing - 'Milk"N'Honey'

7. Bob James - 'Westchester Lady'

8. Brainstorm - 'Wake Up And Be Somebody'

9. Side Effect - 'Always There'

10. The Jimmy Castor Bunch - 'Potential'

11. Jean Carne - 'If You Wanna Go Back'

12. Crystal World - 'Crystal Grass'

13. Whatnauts Band - 'Soul Walking'

14. Mighty Clouds Of Joy - 'Everything Is Love'

15. Norman Connors - 'Captain Connors'

16. Brother To Brother - 'In The Bottle'

17. Earth, Wind & Fire - 'Getaway'

18. Fatback Band - 'Let The Drums Speak'

19. Barrabas - 'Checkmate'

20. Johnny Hammond - 'Los Conquistadores Chocolates'