The last night at the Duke of Clarence

I will try and illustrate the depth and complexity of the creative maelstrom which surrounded us in 2006 with one example – One day I was at home at my flat “The Salon” or “E1UK” as I termed it. To the press it became known as the “Hotel in The Sky” in one particularly scurrilous article – however, from 1990 − 2007 it was home, a top floor 3rd storey apartment in Romford street, a mansion block in Fieldgate Mansions close to the Royal London Hospital in Whitechapel.

There was a knock on the door and Andrew Aveling was standing outside when I opened it. Andrew was a singer song-writer who I had met and grown to like when I briefly joined a Babyshambles tour in Manchester through to Leicester. Andrew was the support act for Babyshambles and in a former life had served in the merchant navy and he had about him a foot-loose attitude – he was charming and relaxed, the perfect companion on a tour bus where tensions easily arose, his wide grin and faux American accent with “What’s up Joe?’ could easily dispel any stress amongst the disparate group forced into close association over the course of a U.K tour in the cramped conditions of the coach.

He rushed into the flat and asked if I had seen Peter or if I knew his whereabouts. I said that I didn’t know where he was but I would certainly pass on any message when the opportunity arose. Andrew explained that he had written and recorded a song “Their Way” with Rough Trade for his band “The Littluns” and that for the song to be released he required Peter’s agreement. Apparently his band had recorded the music with Andrew’s vocals and Peter had come to the studio and recorded vocals on it in one take only. Andrew was impressed by the fact that Peter had showed up, walked into the studio and without any rehearsal had sung his part faultlessly so that the song had been completed in one take and was ready for release if Peter gave the go-ahead.

Andrew was excited and convinced that the song would be a hit, the engineers believed it would be a hit and all that was required was for Peter to give his permission for his vocal track to be used. Andrew was in a state of desperation – this was his big chance for success and everything depended on Peter’s say-so.

Andrew played the song on my i-mac and it sounded great it was hard to believe that Peter’s seamless vocals had been achieved without rehearsal. I promised Andrew that I would do what I could and ask Peter, when I saw him him to give the O.K. to Geoff Travis at Rough Trade. Andrew rushed off to see if he could track Peter down elsewhere.
When I saw Peter next I told him about Andrew’s visit and he said he would get in touch with the record company. I agreed with Andrew that the song was great and hoped that it would be a no 1 top ten hit as he so fervently believed and wished it would be.

Some time later, perhaps a week or so Babyshambles were scheduled to play at the Duke of Clarence, a pub off the Essex Road in Islington. It was a Summer night and I travelled up to Islington with Mrs Rabbit in her gold V.W. Golf, I think I’d been to the Duke of Clarence once or twice before and enjoyed both occasions. The pub seemed to have an unofficial status I think it was squatted and being run as a kind of head-quarters for the band with some of the band’s supporters living there and running it. Mrs Rabbit had invested about £70.00 in a new Steinhauser microphone which the band wanted to borrow, we had decide that we needed a good quality microphone at my flat for when Peter or other musicians wanted to record and it would help if when we recorded music on the Apple Mac if the guitar or vocals could be augmented with some good quality equipment We weren’t entirely happy that Peter said he needed the new microphone which we hadn’t yet had a chance to use but he promised that the band needed it and that it would be perfectly safe.

So we arrived and Rabbit parked her Golf almost directly outside. I had the new microphone with me and a small Sony d.v.d. camera with which to film the show. We wandered in through the door at which there appeared to be no-one taking money or selling tickets. The place was quietly busy but at that point by no means crowded, the atmosphere relaxed and there were plenty of people who I knew well and who regularly attended the gigs by Peter, Babyshambles and the other bands which were around at the time.
Philosophically I consoled myself on this unexpected turn of events and the humour in it, then gave some thought to whom should be called up and asked for a delivery from. The place gradually filled up with a mixture roughly split equally between familiar faces and unknown ones, the mood was relaxed enough but building steadily as numbers increased and excitement mounted with pleasurable anticipation the nearer show-time advanced.
On one of my circuits of the ground floor I passed the foot of the stairs to see Kate sitting on the third step up with an anxious expression. She was wearing cut-off denim shorts and a military style cropped jacket that had about twenty zipped pockets evenly spaced an inch or two apart up each sleeve and she appeared to be franticly searching through all of them in turn for something. “What’s up?” I said, she replied with a grin and continued scooping a finger through each zipped pocket in turn clearly rattled and a little bit desperate. “I’ll help you look “ I replied to which she grinned again and assured me that she would manage. I left her to it and carried on my tour of the ground floor bars but as I passed back a short while later Kate was seated once again on a lower step hunting through her clothes. “I found it. She smiled.

The place was filling up and the tension was building, apparently Kate was going to sing as guest vocalist on the song “Beauty and The Beast”, word had got around and the place was beginning to feel crowded. I made my way to near the front of the crowd at the left of the stage so that I would be in a position to film; across opposite from me on the right hand side was Texas Bob holding his own mini dvd camera. Photographer Fabio Paleari was hunting for shots with his Leica and I spotted other film-makers and photographers squeezing into position as the band started playing in the cramped space at the end of the room.

Although I was close to the front with guitarist Patrick Walden barely three feet away from me ahead and Peter sweating behind the mike stand four feet ahead and to the right I was having trouble getting a clear view, with some trilby hatted youth blocking my line of sight. The General had appeared along with the band at the back and could be both heard and seen bobbing up and down yelping rhythmically. . The band launched into “Belle et Le Bete” and Kate suddenly appeared centre stage at the microphone for her vocal part, her blonde hair shining out caught by the spotlight.

The music seemed excessively loud and the room increasingly packed solid – Kate vanished back out of sight through the door behind the group, the band, their music and the crowd all heaving and swelling towards a climax that was almost sexual in its intensity then without any warning and all of a sudden lights flooded on and the amplified sound cut out, police stormed into the room; the concert was all of a sudden over and everybody ordered to clear the building.

In no time at all the band and their instruments dispersed, policemen began clearing the crowd and ordering events to a close. I found myself being surged out of the door into the street outside where van-loads of uniformed men were ensuring a swift and effective end to the event.
Glad not to be arrested or searched we opened the car doors and sank into the front seats quickly locking both doors as the pub emptied into the street. Apparently at the first intimation of a police raid Kate and a close friend had slipped out the back door through the yard and over a fence before being noticed.

A camera man who I’d known for a few years and who worked occasionally with the BBC, Guy Nesbitt was filming the exodus. In soft focus black and white police stand as the pub empties out. An impassive Johnny Headlock, then Peter concerned for Kate, film-maker Kieron Flynn, Andrew Aveling, The General, Alan Wass all process along the street followed by their crowd, Guy Nesbitt edited the footage so that they are singing and playing as they went. Guy Nesbitt ran ahead continuing filming.

“Their way forces your hand,” “ you know they like to knock me down but I don’t stay down for long, they try to say their way was sound but what a way I’ve found. “

The mood somehow remained joyous and harmonious as can be seen in the video for The Littl’ans “My Way” which somehow seamlessly the occasion turned into as though choreographed at great expense and seeming professionalism. The video transformed an indignity into a triumph.

My footage from the gig was underexposed and dark but I was able to edit the performance of Belle et Le Bete into a colourful posterised clip for my channel on Youtube and Kate’s bright golden hair shines out in the spotlight as she sings her lines. There were no more gigs at the Duke of Clarence after that night the pub was condemned and closed down.