More Montreal

More Montreal

Some random small snippets from Blues ’92. Some are incomplete, some may be embellished but don’t ask me which are which.

At the aforementioned show at the St Denis, I left one of George’s pedals on the stage. Stage manager’s solution was for me to lead Jimmy Rogers and band on stage right and exit stage left in one smooth movement. This was achieved without further incident.

An aged blues lady, Jessie May Hemphill, was to be heard backstage “ How comes I don’t get no fried chicken? Buddy Guy gets fried chicken!”. She was later having tuning problems on stage, George Ross Watt to the rescue!

Overheard at one of the breakfasts organised for the more well known artists..”Did you hear about the Scotchman?”. We know not what had been heard..

George had been asked to attend a “guitar clinic” along with a chap called Robert Junior Lockwood. He was Robert Johnson’s godson though I’m sure there are many claimants to that title. He had very bad piles and his wife carried a cushion everywhere.

George and I were offered a lift in one of the festival limos, which was on a return run from dropping someone else off. George was most upset to find the on board bar empty, but we had a blast. Upon the reaching the Hard Rock, I exited the limo with no problem. George however managed to lock all the doors. The driver got out and could not manage to remedy this. I will never forget the look on his face, bet he had had all sorts in that car and never experienced this.

Favourite memory though is of a late night jam session at the Hard Rock. Basic band was Buddy Guy’s drummer and bassist. Then Johnnie Johnson joined in, the man who played piano on all those Chuck Berry classics. I set up his piano as well.

They were then joined by Mick Taylor, ex Rolling Stone. Then…George was asked to join in. This was something else, the boy from Glasgow up there with some of the greats doing one of his songs. To say I was moved was an understatement, mind you Mr Taylor was a bit strange. I attempted to speak to him, but there was nowt. Not even a “go away”. Ach well…

The event was later raided by the cops for after hours drinking, but there was a plan. They were going to say that it was a publicity shoot and that all the drink was fake. I never heard how that one panned out.

Good Morning Montreal

1992 was the year was the year that Big George and The Business went transatlantic…across the pond…and temporarily emigrated to Canada.

The boys were invited to play at the Blues 92 Festival in Montreal, Quebec and I got to go as well as road manager. George did want to me to be “butler”, but this was voted down. Can’t quite remember how it all came about but it did involve an ex-pat Glaswegian named Allan Patrick, a lovelier guy could never meet, who came to a few gigs with his business partner Andrew.

Suffice to say we were all soon in the transit van heading for the airport and the first leg our flight via Amsterdam Schipol. Not much to say about the flight, except that Tam did awfy well with his first ever flying experience.

On arrival at Mirabel Airport, the first hurdle was customs and immigration. A more obvious rock’n’roll band had never been seen on the premises, and as we stood “behind the line” the decision was take that I (as the most sensible looking) should approach the beckoning official. This I did, and assured him that our visit was “for pleasure” despite the guitar cases, cymbal bag and preponderance of long hair. We were then asked what was in the cardboard box..”albums” says Tam.

There was then a delay as they were checked to see that no Canadian record dealer would be short changed by us importing them. The assurance that they were for promotional use only and their home made look seemed to convince the officials and we were sent on our way.

Allan met us in the arrivals lounge and immediately presented us with the first official T-Shirts. Pictures speak louder than words at this point.

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=21837758593&set=o.19810346594&theater

The next morning (or whatever it was, jet lag and whisky does that to you) George and I were whisked off for a round of radio interviews. Talk about in at the deep end! We paused to pick up another festival performer on the way, Kat Dyson, who George bonded with from the off. I think we visited three separate stations with some fine jamming and pidgin French from George. There was also a TV interview in which he in advertently mentioned a favourite drink which in local patois meant something similar to a Molotov cocktail. The security forces must have had a sense of humour.

Then it was breakfast, or was it lunch?

As has happened before in this tale, the following incidents may not have happened in this order but they all happened by crikey.

The opening show of the Festival was at Montreal’s Hard Rock Café and George was down to do two sets, one acoustic and one with the band. The soundcheck was a hoot, as the engineer kept asking Big G to “turn down”. The reply of “speak English boy!” seemed to do the trick.

The bigger show was next..opening for Jimmy Rogers at the St Denis Theatre. If you’ve ever seen the “Just for Laughs” comedy festival shows TV then you’ll know the venue. I remember George and the guys going down really well, and showing Jimmy Rogers the way to the stage. We were in that venue for another few nights mingling with the likes of Buddy Guy, Bo Diddley, John Campbell and the man who wrote Texas Flood, Larry Davis.

I’ve got to say before I end this part one that Allan and his wife Sonia were the perfect hosts and I have such fond memories of them both. George and I knocked it off being billeted with them..not least as Alan was in charge of looking after the band riders!

I’m sure we drank Buddy Guy’s brandy…

In the next episode: limos, guitar clinics, after show jam sessions and a Rolling Stone.