The Sloane Squares
Every Saturday morning I like to lie long in bed, listening to Brian Matthew’s Radio 2 programme ‘Sounds of the Sixties’. It’s an age thing, I guess, but I think you’ll always love the music you grew up with.
And how I grew up! To be young was very heaven, as the poet saith. England in the sixties was the centre of the universe, London was earthquakingly cool, and Chelsea was its epicentre.
Where was I living in my teens and twenties? Chelsea, of course; not the rich, bloated Arab mega-wealth Chelsea of today, but (excuse me lapsing into historical dialect here) the hippest, funkiest, fabbest, grooviest place on the planet.
The King’s Road. Where I knocked down Rudolf Nureyev in my dad’s ’56 Chevy (he was more shaken than hurt, but he had looked the wrong way stepping off the pavement).
Sloane Square, where I charged round a corner and bowled over a tiny little black woman. I helped Diana Ross to her feet.
And Sloane Square of course gave us the name for our group. The Sloane Squares. Everyone had to be in a group in the sixties, and where better to be based than in Chelsea, the capital of cool.
OK, so we were crap. We were no more than a covers band. The few songs we attempted to write were laughably amateur, in the bad sense of the word. But of course we were THE Chelsea group, and any act who came to play in Chelsea got us as their support band.
John Lee Hooker was the first. We’d turned the crypt of the Catholic Church in Cheyne Walk into a ‘night club’ called The Mechanical Orange (how far out was that?) and persuaded big names to come and play.
In other venues we supported other acts. Pink Floyd, Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, The Creation, Peter Frampton’s Herd, the Small Faces and many more now forgotten or unremembered.
The Faces had been manufactured and backed with a lot of bread — they looked great, but they’d only learned one song and simply couldn’t play their fabulously expensive instruments. I showed Steve Marriott the fingering for the D chord (I’m not a great guitarist but I do know all 5 chords) and he was blown away. He’d stuck mirrors on the glorious patina of the soundboard of his thousand pound Gretsch so he could ‘mak show’ as the Beatles described it. I thought it was sacrilege. He didn’t. He went on to fame and fortune. I didn’t.
Although we were no musicians, we probably got the bookings because of the way we looked. The other guys in the group were good-looking lads. Lloyd Powell on drums, Nigel Hill on bass, Cuthbert Fry on rhythm, Fred Taylor on vocals and harmonica, me on lead — and we rocked. And we were loud. VERY LOUD.
We also were only group in the area with a travelling gang of bodyguards. There was always a fight everywhere we played. If there wasn’t, our bodyguards would start one. More of that some other time.
We thought it was a disaster when Fred left to become a chef. For a while we tried to hack it as a four piece, but we were even worse than before.
Then we met up with Pete Gage, another Chelsea lad. Fred had a good rocking raucous voice, but Pete’s voice verged on greatness. He was a belter, a sort of high-class Chris Farlowe. Suddenly we were getting important bookings. He couldn’t play harmonica and we needed some extra sound, so we drafted in a guy called Dante Smith on keyboards. We were becoming quite a formidable act.
The Sloane Squares, Chelsea, 1966
L to R: Lloyd Powell, Nigel Hill, Gwyn Headley, Cuthbert Fry, Pete Gage
Photo copyright Andrew Lanyon / fotoLibra
In the audience one night was Jet Harris, the former bass guitarist of The Shadows. After the show he came round and bought us drinks. Many drinks. Several times. He drank spirits. I was so impressed. He had so much money. The rounds were always on him. Eventually he started talking about a record.
And that’s what catapulted me out of bed this morning. On the Sounds of the Sixties, Brian Matthew announced ‘My Lady’ by Jet Harris. That was us! Pete Gage (never credited) on vocals, Jet on bass guitar, #28 on the Radio London Hot 40, #1 in Denmark (allegedly). World’s shortest lead guitar solo. It was an awful song, a very lame attempt by Reg Presley of the Troggs, and the B side, written by Jerry Lordan and titled ‘You Don’t Live Twice’, was a far better tune.
Well, well. I hadn’t heard it in years. I long ago lost the only copies I had.
If you want to hear it in all its glory and faux Joe Meek climax, you can, for the next week. Click here to listen to Brian’s show on BBC Radio 2. ‘My Lady’ comes up after about 50 minutes.
It’s truly terrible. But it brings back a lot of memories.
So Pete had clearly hit the big time, and some of the rest of us felt we really ought to be getting jobs, thus the Sloane Squares drifted apart. The last I heard of Pete he had taken over from Lee Brilleaux as lead singer of Dr. Feelgood.
We had a reunion ten years ago, with Fred, not Pete, and we were GREAT!
June 4th, 2008 at 22:51
Dear god. How cool are you? I can’t bear it.
My best claim to fame is probably working with Tim Vincent’s mum in Wrexham DHSS in the 80s, and having Ben Osborne, the 2007 BBC Wildlife Photographer of the Year in my extended circle of photography buddies. Does having spent 2 nights in a bear hide with Andy Rouse count? Maybe. Does seeing Mel Brookes in the street in New York in 1985 count? No I thought not. Does living half a mile away from the farm where Ronnie Lane (Faces bassist) lived in the 70s count? No. It’s not fame but an accident of geography. But maybe yes because I chose to be here…?
But you have ‘knocked over’ both Nuryev and Ross- and not Jonathan, either. Intensely cool. You have supported John Lee Hooker. You’ve supprted Floyd, Hendrix and Clapton? God I consider myself cool by merely having SEEN the original lineup of Floyd (i.e. being in the audience at Stafford Bingley Hall on the Animals tour, 23/3/77).
I’m sorry I can’t count the Jet Harris connection as being cool as he was in the Shadows and they are forever tainted by association with Mr Cliff Richard who is one of the least cool people on the planet. However I don’t hold that lack of cool against Jet or indeed your good self.
You have, ahem- allegedly done all things on your blog post and no doubt many more. Faaaaaaaantastic, respect to you, Mr Headley.
Ric
June 5th, 2008 at 11:56
Aw, shucks!
July 28th, 2008 at 10:02
Blow me down with a your air guitar. such hidden depths and not a bad looker eh. I thought you just had the softest ears in the industry
drinks at the faltering full back now that i have retired from BAPLA.
January 19th, 2009 at 14:42
[…] think I’m beginning to repeat myself. I blogged this last May, the last time Brian Matthew played ‘My Lady’, and included a photograph of the Sloane […]
June 11th, 2009 at 22:12
I got the photo now, Gwyn. It’s been 40 years since I saw it, can you believe. I’m in touch with Nigel, mostly by phone these days. have you any other photos that were taken on that day round at St. Lukes Church sydney street/cale street wasn’t it? Do you know anything about the pictures of David Evans, who came to a few of our gigs and supplied the gin?. David remained a friend of mine till the day he got killed in a road accident in 1988. His watercolours are absolutely incredible!!!. I have many images of his paintings and it would be good to share them with you. Regards, pete gage
November 16th, 2009 at 19:25
I always used to doubt my Dads dubious claims to have supported Jimy Hnedrix and Pink Floyd, now I stand corrected!
November 16th, 2009 at 20:38
Tom, if you’re Nigel’s son, always believe your Dad. He tells the truth. And you could put me in touch with him please — I haven’t spoken with him for ten years.
We wanted to play the blues so bad. And we did; we played the blues so bad.
June 5th, 2010 at 08:15
and don’t forget Dante Smith in the Westminster Cathedral choir as a lad singing in Britten’s Missa Brevis, recorded by Decca on an EP and re-released on LP – maybe on CD too. Superb music.
July 24th, 2010 at 19:37
QSusan and I were thinking of you and the night we spent with you and Yvonne singing and playing all the old 1960’s hits after too much wine. I play in a cover band here in St. Pete and we have quite a local following–name of band is Doc Rock. Keep in touch.
November 15th, 2010 at 15:58
Hello Gwyn,
My name is Daniel I am Lloyd Powell’s son. I was wondering if you could send me a copy of that photo if possible? Did you upload this shot? my e-mail address is mrdanielpowell@hotmail.co.uk
I have an idea for a birthday present for him.
The Sloane Squares get a regular run out on my LP player.
I have a 45rpm recording of you guy’s covering Stop Your Sobbing by The Kinks with You’ll Be Mine by Howlin’ Wolf on the B-side. Recorded at Regent Sound Studio’s. Something I will cherish forever! It was Dad and the rest of you guy’s that made me pick up a guitar! I play in a band myself…..we are called JAG (www.thisisjag.co.uk).
I have also seen the reunion video with Fred on vocals! Have you still got the Green Telecaster?
Hope all is well. I’d really appreciate any other photo’s you may have.
Daniel Powell
ps – do not get in touch with Dad regarding these shots as he won’t know about it!
January 6th, 2012 at 15:16
The guitarist on “My Lady” was Big Jim Sullivan, a renowned session man in the 60’s. RIP Jet Harris and Tony Meehan who produced the single.
August 31st, 2012 at 23:22
Hi Pete Gage, Are you the same Pete Gage who is related to the Irish ‘Picker’ family? If you are, a big hello from us. Mike, Peg and Larry live near Eastbourne, would be good to get in touch. Best, Larry (lawrencekane2000@yahoo.com)
March 30th, 2013 at 22:42
A bit of exaggeration there Pete to big yourself up? Still as Steve Marriott isn’t around to put people straight you can say what you like. Steve was young and learning in the Small Faces, but he had already been in The Moments, he’d be the first to admit he was no lead guitarist then but to make out he didn’t know the D chord is nonsense.
March 31st, 2013 at 12:28
Hi Steve. Pete didn’t write this so he’s not “bigging” himself up. Gwyn — that’s me — wrote it, and if you say it’s nonsense then I’m sure you must be able to recall the incident more clearly than I can. Were you there? Can you remember where it took place? Or when?
I’d have written this whether Steve Marriott was alive or dead, because I remember doing it. So don’t be fatuous.
March 31st, 2013 at 14:25
Yep, I clearly recall not being there when it didn’t happen.
April 5th, 2013 at 12:26
Steve, as well as being ignorant, I think you must be stupid. You weren’t around at the time; you didn’t even know who the writer of this blog was. So why expose yourself to public ridicule? I’m sorry if you have issues with Pete, but to deny something happened because you refuse to believe it is either pathetic or religious fundamentalism. I wasn’t aware there was a Mosque of Marriott. I suppose the moon landings didn’t happen either, because Steve Wasn’t There.
Anyway, here’s something else for you to deny. Weren’t you the pimply youth who sold me this record? — http://fotolibrarian.fotolibra.com/?p=929
Or maybe you’re merely a subjective idealist:
“There was a young man who said “God
Must find it exceedingly odd
To think that this tree
Should continue to be
When there’s no one about in the quad.”
November 9th, 2013 at 12:16
Fascinating post, especially for one such as me obsessewd with all things Chelsea. I was born in 1959, so, though I grew up in Chelsea, I was a bit too young to remember the Sloane Squares, but I do remember being convinced I was living at the epicentre of the universe, as you say, at the World’s End, Chelsea.
I’ve posted a link to this entry from the facebook page I run all about said World’s End as part of a post I wrote about Pete Gage. Then I realised you’ve had a very interesting and productive career yourself, so I posted a link to the wiki page about you too.
I know you and Pete are not exactly World’s Enders, but you are Chelsea boys made good. Oh … and I saw you went to the same school as me – WCS.
November 11th, 2013 at 13:23
We’re Chelsea boys, alright. And I went down to Somerset earlier this year to hear Pete perform at the Inn in Freshfield. What a great evening! He is better than ever, and if anyone gets the chance, go and see him. He’s such a nice guy, as well.
Who of us can afford to live in Chelsea now? Mind you, we wouldn’t know anybody, I suppose.
November 11th, 2013 at 13:28
Oh, and Westminster City School! I went to a really bad public school called Haileybury, and left to go to WCS in the 6th form. Back then it was an excellent school, and I’m still in touch with friends I made then. One friend used to sneer at the Sloane Squares for being a mere pop group — HE played oboe in the National Youth Orchestra. His name was Andy Mackay, and he went on to join Roxy Music. You can’t get popper than that.
I’m afraid WCS has plummeted a bit. It now seems to be a sink school, and its Wikipedia entry doesn’t kick off well.