As I’m sure those who were there would recall, back in the mid-late 1980’s Birmingham had a burgeoning live music scene with many long-demised venues serving all manner of musical tastes with the plethora of live bands on the circuit at that time. Whilst the Railway in Curzon Street, the Barrel Organ in Digbeth and Edward’s Number 8 in John Bright Street are frequently cited and recalled as prime examples of the local gig ‘industry’ back in the day, one venue appears to have slipped from the radar; Mega’s Wine Bar on Old Square.

Whilst the name conjures-up images of trendy lounge lizards and laid-back jazz piano, Mega’s Wine Bar actually served-up a stream of local – and some not-so-local – indie, rock and alternative bands and was certainly a thriving gig venue on the circuit and was located above Mega-Active which, if memory serves me correctly, was a kind of indoor ’boutique’ market – that was located in the centre of the building seen above at the Junction with Corporation Street (to the right) and Old Square.

Gunlaw at Mega's Wine Bar (courtesy: Ken Worthing)

You entered Mega’s Wine Bar via a flight of stairs with the venue itself being a long narrow room. From the front of the room (imagine standing in it with your back to the windows fronting onto Old Square) there was a square-shaped seating area with tables occupying the front third of the venue and then the bar began on the left-hand side running parallel to a slightly raised seating area surrounded by a medium height wall/railing. As you walked along with the bar on your left the raised seating area ended just before a corridor at the end of the room to the toilets and in that little corner between the raised seating area and the walkway to the toilets was ‘the stage’. Not that it had a stage as such, just a corner clear of furniture!

The word ‘intimate’ is often overused when recounting gig venues of yesteryear but in the case of Mega’s Wine Bar it’s never been more apt! The place was small, very small, and an old friend (once of local bands Voice of Dissent and The Reason Is) contacted me recently who had played there, and who had seen some of my gigs there, and reminded me that at the end of the raised seating area – ie: immediately in front of the band onto the ’stage’ – was a gap in the walling through which audience members would walk to get to the toilets. Thus, numerous times throughout a gig the guitarist or frontman would have to stand aside (nearly always mid-tune) as someone squeezed past to get to the loo – or for their return journey: such was the unique nature of this arrangement that ironic applause for an inbound/outbound toilet seeker would often break out during their return and/or departure!

Unfortunately information is nigh-on impossible to come by as to when Mega’s Wine Bar was operational. I played there 1986/7 and am aware of bands playing there in 1988 but beyond that – and indeed before that – I would assume that it functioned merely as a wine bar: if anyone can tell me any different I’ll be pleased to revise this entry.

Some of the bands I recall from there were This Year, Sleepwalk, Mighty Mighty and the splendidly named Jesus Christ and the Six Disciples (of whom only one arrived for the gig with a drum machine that broke-down mid-way through the set!). Ken Worthing, guitarist with Gunlaw (www.kenworthing.co.uk) , kindly allowed me to use the poster above from a gig they played there back in the late 80’s which attests to the fact that I hadn’t dreamt the place up – so scant is the information attesting to its existence today I was beginning to wonder.

Mega’s Wine Bar was a great little venue with many peculiar quirks and it would be great to hear from anyone who played, or drank, there.

The Old Railway - Curzon Street

Sadly I haven’t really been able to find any information on this gem of a now demolished pub, other than to state the obvious that it was named in recognition of Curzon Street station which stood opposite the site until 1966 (and if recently unveiled high speed rail plans are forged ahead, may well again!).

My first recollection of the Old Railway was in 1985 when a teacher at my school – who knew I was learning to play drums and was into rock music – told me his son’s band Hostage were gigging at the pub and that he’d put me on the guest list! At 15 it was the first gig I’d ever been to and I’d never heard of Curzon Street but found my way there and it certainly confirmed my conviction that playing in bands was what I wanted to do. Several months later I found myself there once more to watch the first gig of a local band called Fayre Warning after bumping in to their bass player on a number 27 bus in West Heath.

The pub itself was quite run-down and consisted of a small bar connected by a short corridor, which could also be entered directly from the Curzon Street side of the building, to the room that used to house gigs. The venue part was small – I would estimate it held a couple of hundred standing people at the most – with a stage at one end, alcove for mixing desk the other, and bar the length of one side with a small ‘dressing room’ for bands accessed from behind the bar via a hatch at the stage end of the room.

Legend has it that Robert Plant and John Bonham from Led Zeppelin – and a whole host of other Brum-based musical notaries – frequented the place back in the 70s but during my time there I recall mostly local rock/metal acts, such as Shy, Briar and Tobruk, regularly gigging there and/or propping up the bar. I also attended an all-day rock festival there sometime around 1986/7 which was fun as I was working at Musical Exchanges then and so knew a lot of the musicians who were playing during the day.

Also in 1986/7 I played a gig there myself with my band Lost Cause (prophetically named) and I seem to recall that the landlady was called Gail and whose partner was a very amiable Rasta whose name escapes me!

Some time in the late 1980s I recall the Old Railway closing as a pub/gig venue and being turned into a Mexican Restaurant and by then Edwards Number 7 & 8 was in full swing as a rock gig venue and that was the end of my association with the place. I do, however, understand it reopened once more as the Old Railway towards the end of the 1990s but, as can be seen from the above photograph, is once again no more. Subject of a compulsory purchase order as part of the City’s Eastside redevelopment the pub, along with its surrounding area, lay derelict for a time until demolition began in late 2007.

If anyone reading this used to frequent the Old Railway, played there in bands, or has any information that would add to this article, please get in touch.

Edward Fewtrell

Opinions about Edward Fewtrell are rarely non-committal or ‘on the fence’: speak to one person and he’s Birmingham’s underworld godfather, speak to another he’s a charitable philanthropist, speak to another and he’s a top businessman, and another and he’s a family man etc etc . . . truth is, he’s probably a combination of all those elements. They’re in no way mutually exclusive character traits and most of the legendary tales about his past from which most people have formed their opinion are somewhat skewed, exaggerated or conversely, in some instances, economical with the truth! However, one fact that’s incontrovertible is that Eddie Fewtrell single-handedly, with a little help from his brothers, did more to nurture and develop Birmingham’s nightlife culture over three decades than anyone else and for that fact should be applauded.

It would be relatively easy here to provide an account of Eddie’s business career but, as with the majority of this website, merely recounting facts that can be found elsewhere on the Web is largely a pointless exercise so I thought a few anecdotes and observations of my dealings with Mr Fewtrell might provide more of an insight. However, a brief potted history for the uninitiated may provide a useful background so here goes . . .

One of a family of 10 born to a somewhat broken home in the relatively deprived Birmingham suburb of Aston, from an early age Eddie undertook the mantle of familial breadwinner and paternal figure to his younger siblings which I think largely laid the bedrock for his later empire building in the nightclub scene in Birmingham City Centre in years to come. Following various business ventures Edward opened the Bermuda Club in Navigation Street which was legendary for having both a front of house bar and ‘backstage’ gambling den which operated somewhat beyond the realms of legality at the time but was sufficiently frequented by Birmingham City Police notables and allied City dignitaries as to run fairly raid-free for the majority of its tenure.

Next-up, Eddie opened the Cedar Club (off Constitution Hill) and began to cultivate his ‘celebrity persona’ with emerging 60’s acts such as the Move playing at the club along with a string of top acts regularly gigging there, socialising at the club and in some instances working there during the embryonic phases of their careers. The Cedar Club stood Eddie in good stead for his next venture which was the much renowned Barbarella’s on Cumberland Street (off Broad Street) which launched a number of bands and hosted many top acts including The Ramones, AC/DC and many, many more huge and soon to be huge acts from the world of entertainment. During this period the nightlife scene was going through something of an evolutionary period with a shift from cabaret clubs to more disco-based nightclubs and Eddie rode this wave with the opening of Rebecca’s in John Bright Street and later Abigail’s and Edward’s – also on John Bright Street – with Paramount and Goldwyn’s on Lower Severn Street opening towards the close of the 1980s.

I think it can be said with a fair degree of certainty that the majority of Brummies who enjoyed the odd night out during the 1970s and 1980s would have visited at least one of Eddie Fewtrell’s establishments and for a time throughout the mid to late 1980s John Bright Street was the THE epicentre of club culture and the heart of the Fewtrell Empire. Following the sale of all his clubs to Ansell’s Leisure in 1989, Eddie was faced with a three-year golden handcuffs arrangement but on its expiry returned to night club ownership with XL’s night club at Five Ways and the XL’s Rock Cafe on Paradise Circus and Millennium Club at Merry hill.

I first became aware of Eddie Fewtrell when auditioning for a band in the mid-1980s who were managed by an associate of Eddie’s. Upon mentioning the band to a musician friend he advised me not to get mixed-up with ‘people like that’! I’d never heard of Eddie and asked a few people who was this person of whom my colleague had spoken in such a cautionary tone to find out that he was the owner of a nightclub empire and had a reputation akin to the Krays and was certainly not someone to mess with. I gleaned a number of ”horror stories’ from various hearsay sources about adversaries being dispatched under the concrete pillars of Spaghetti Junction during its construction, shootings, a legion of punch-happy brothers who were also legends around the Birmingham club scene etc and thought better of joining a band that was managed by one of his cohorts.

As fate would have it, a few short years later I found myself at 17 being instructed to go to Boogies Brasserie to ask Mr Fewtrell for a position on the door of Edward’s Number 8 night club! I didn’t really know what to expect – some Al Pacino-type figure I suppose – as I approached Nobby on the door and said I’d been sent to have a word with Eddie and was pointed in his direction. At the end of the bar was a circle of middle-aged men enjoying a drink – some of whom were what I’d term ‘brick outhouses’ – with a rather diminutive grey-haired chap in the middle holding court: that was Eddie Fewtrell. I took a deep breath, walked up to the group at which point they all stopped laughing and chatting and simultaneously turned to look at the spotty, overweight, long-haired 17 year old before them. I stuttered out that I’d been sent over from Edward’s Number 8 to ask about a job on the door to which Eddie just grunted “start Friday you c*nt”, and then turned back to his pals and they all started chatting where they’d left off! Not your standard job interview but in the circumstances it was as long as I wanted. And that was that really, I was working for Eddie at one of his showpiece clubs at 17!

Preconceptions are strange things and largely stand to be shattered and this was certainly true with Eddie Fewtrell. Everything I’ve said thus far turned out to be applicable to Eddie to some degree. I’d somehow sneaked into his organisation’s inner circle at a very young age and was working alongside his longstanding associates such as Ricky Rickabee, Gigi, Norman ‘Nobby’ Nobbs and whole host of characters of both savoury and unsavoury ends of the spectrum and loving every minute of it. The clubs themselves were great, and at that time all booming and vibrant, but equally as enjoyable was getting to chat to Eddie and his crew who were remarkably open about their histories and previous exploits and would quite happily sit, as would Eddie, over a few drinks and regale me and others with endless anecdotes and tales of past escapades.

I didn’t know it then as I was fairly inexperienced in the world of employment but Eddie was one of a kind. Whereas managers and owners of other clubs at which I would come to work were very distanced from their staff, Eddie would do the rounds of all his clubs at least a couple of times a night and stand and have a chat with the doormen and other staff and crack a few jokes and make sure everything was ok. On a Sunday night I’d work the door at Edward’s on my own for £15 (looking back I must have been mad) and Eddie would phone me at least a couple of times during the evening from his favourite haunt of Goldwyn’s around the corner to check that all was well. I can honestly say that I always found him a very avuncular chap who really cared about his staff and wasn’t afraid to muck-in when required (more about that later) and that he knew that staff would have a few free drinks etc but so long as they weren’t really taking the p*ss he was cool with that too.

On the flipside, several incidents spring to mind that give an insight into the power Eddie wielded in Birmingham that have stuck with me over the years. Some of which I won’t recount here but a couple of incidents below give some idea.

One night I was having a few drinks on a night-off on the top floor of Edward’s Number 8 when the girl I was with shouted ‘oh my God’ and pointed at the dance floor at which point the music cut off. I looked over as a line of about 20 blokes trouped across the dance floor and began seriously laying-in to another couple of chaps who were having a drink. The DJ had killed the music and called for the doormen but there were only two working that night and it later transpired that the ‘hit squad’ had just barged their way in on a mission to sort out the two chaps inside. I ran over as the two doorman arrived but it was way beyond our intervention. Then, out of the corner of my eye I noticed Eddie was at the other end of the bar having a drink with Ricky Rickabee. On spotting the melee Edie put down his drink and came straight over, pushing his way into the middle of the brawl at which point everything just stopped – Eddie just looked up at one of the chief protagonists and raised a finger: “you don’t fight in one of my f*cking clubs, now get out” was all he said in a rather hushed tone at which point the whole troupe turned and all walked out in single file in complete silence, heads bowed. Eddie then just looked at us and said something to the effect of “as you were” and returned to his drink and conversation with Ricky!

On another occasion we got the call at Edward’s Number 8 that all doormen were needed to deal with ‘a riot’ at Goldwyn’s. We all ran round the corner meeting up with the lads from Boogies club and Brasserie and piled into Goldwyn’s not really knowing what to expect. Now for those uninitiated with the club, it was split-level and you arrived into the main room on a raised level which housed the bar and half-way along the room the floor level dropped a couple of feet to the dance floor. As I got inside, the raised level gave a commanding view of proceedings on the dance floor which was, in short, carnage, with about 50 men knocking seven shades out of each other. For our purposes here, the image that’s stuck with me to this day however, was that in the middle of all the fighting was a clear circle at the centre of which was the diminutive figure of Eddie randomly throwing punches at whoever strayed within reach . . . none of whom even attempting to throw a punch back but rather trying to dodge out of the way somewhat apologetically. That was a really surreal sight and gave me a flavour of the extent of Eddie’s reputation beyond that of amiable raconteur!

As an aside, Eddie’s biography/autobiography came-out a few years ago (King of Clubs: The Eddie Fewtrell Story) and whilst charting Eddie’s career and charitable associations – of which he had many – I felt it wholly missed the good stuff and was put into such a scatological chronology that it was quite hard to follow: shame, as I’m sure there’s a much better book in Eddie than that!

However, from my perspective – and I hasten to add I only was around Eddie for a couple of years – I really liked Eddie and his ‘no-nonsense’ approach and his rags-to-riches determination has much to be admired. Furthermore, I always got the impression that he saw his clubs as extensions of his family – he really cared about them and the staff (in fact many of his brothers and family members worked in his various club over the years including his daughter Rebecca who worked on the reception at Edwards when I was there and his brother, the late Don Fewtrell, as manager of Goldwyn’s) and considered those causing trouble in one of his clubs in the same manner as you and I would if someone burst into your home and started fighting with each other!

Whatever is written and said about Eddie Fewtrell, and I appreciate that there are those with vastly differing opinions of the man, he’s definitely a larger than life character with a fascinating history. He breeds horses now too!

Ark

As is sadly the case with many bands, talent doesn’t necessarily equate to success and this was no more starkly evident than with neo-prog rockers Ark who formed in 1985 following the breakup of local band Damascus. Hailing from the West Midlands, and walking the dangerous line between prog-rock and commercial rock, Ark produced a succession of musically adroit and lyrically meaningful tracks at a time when the music world was by and large turning ‘hair metal’.

My first encounter with the band was when they entered the Edwards Number 8 ‘Battle of the Bands’ competition in 1987 which saw three nights a week, a succession of the great – and not so great – local bands vying for the prize of a studio session at Rob Bruce’s Rich Bitch studios in Selly Oak. On their first appearance in the competition I was a judge and was feeling increasingly jaded by the whole affair as an endless stream of third-rate Bon Jovi clones and thrash bands made-up the majority of entrants, such was the era. When Ark hit the stage, however, I was totally captivated and blown away – as were the other judges (‘Crazy’ Al King the sound engineer at Edwards and Aaron Whan the lighting tech); we were all caught by surprise!

Ark - The Dreams of Mr Jones

Ark wore makeup (in the case of frontman Tony Short, a lot of face paint akin to early Gabriel), they had two guitarists in Pete Wheatley and Steve Harris (who played a synth guitar from which came an array keyboard and piano touches), they had a drummer – Dave ‘Cocky’ Robbins – who could actually play more than a straight 4/4 beat, Andy Harris on bass and produced a complex and well crafted, but accessible, brand of commercial-edged prog rock: imagine Marillion with balls. Furthermore, frontman Tony Short was just that; he was a frontman in every sense of the word, captivating in performance, possessing a strong and powerful voice and engaged with the audience with good humoured banter as appropriate. We were all convinced that we’d seen a band destined for great things and, as those who remember the competition will recall, Ark went on to win the final on 18th December 1987 (I still have a mixing desk recording of the gig!). I was so impressed with the band, and believe me that wasn’t often the case, I went to see them at the College of Food and Art a few days later and got to chat to them and discovered that they were the nicest bunch of chaps you could ever wish to meet which, again, wasn’t always the case with bands both major and minor.

With the studio time won in the Battle of the Bands competition Ark recorded their debut album The Dreams of Mr Jones, a 5-track opus that is nigh-on impossible to come by these days but well worth the effort if a copy can be secured. The album also featured a new bass player, Jon Jowitt. My abiding memory of the band with Mr Jowitt was a rather odd gig at the salubrious Coldstream pub on the Frankley estate in South Birmingham where, mid-way through a track, a group of bikers drinking at the bar picked Tony Short up and carried him out into the car park whilst still singing, fortunately in jest!

Ark - Cover Me With Rain

The band built a strong local following and began to construct a fan base around the country, playing the likes of the Marquee club in London and things seemed to be heading in the right direction for the band. Further recording and tweaks in line-up followed with ‘Cocky’ Robbins being replaced on drums by Gary Davies, and later Paul Rogers, and Jon Jowitt leaving to join prog behemoths IQ – with whom he still plays – being replaced by Nigel ‘Gel’ Newey.

However, whilst building a cult following around the country, and indeed around Europe, true success eluded the band and after 10 years they called it a day in 1995. Rumours have circulated from time to time about a reunion but one has failed to materialise and I can’t help but look back to Ark with a tinge of sadness as they were one of only a handful of bands to understand how to put on a performance and were musically very skilled and yet failed to make a breakthrough into the big league. Fortunately, they did leave behind four albums – and a plethora of cassette EPs and singles – that, whilst extremely hard to find, attest to their legacy as one of the regions finest musical products.

Update 10/05/10

Since I published the above article, it’s been confirmed that Ark have reformed with the calssic Short-Harris-Wheatley-Jowitt lineup with gigs to come later in 2010 and a new album! Get your tickets for their album launch gig on 5th September 2010 at the Robin 2 HERE!

Cryer

Along with the Starfighters and Quartz, Cryer were a heavyweight in Birmingham rock music circles.  Constantly gigging, and touring in support of such notables as Gillan and Ozzy Osbourne, the band had a great live reputation – not least due to the extensive use of somewhat unpredictable pyrotechnics operated by roadie Stevie Husband – alongside melodic hard rock tunes.

Formed in 1974 the line up fluctuated over the years but by the time they got around to committing their sound to vinyl in 1980 the line up consisted of Graham Careless (Vocals), Garry ‘Musical Exchanges’ Chapman (Guitar), Stu Clarke (Guitar), Pete Wayne (Keyboards), Richard ‘Fez’ Ferriday (Bass) and Roger Whitehouse (Drums):  previously, Steve ‘Bertie’ Burton had been vocalist but had left to form the Starfighters.

A self-financed single – the Single, aptly enough – was released (with the much better B-side ‘Hesitate’) and an album ‘Set Me Free’ recorded at the Old Smithy studios in Worcester.  However, this album was finally released after the band split in 1983 on Heavy Metal Records who decided to change the name of the band to Force for reasons better known to themselves!

Post-Cryer, Garry Chapman (lovingly nicknamed ‘Frog’) was manager of Musical Exchanges (where I ’enjoyed’ a Youth Training Scheme upon leaving school and was mentored there by Steve Husband) on Snow Hill and can now be found running Professional Music Technology (PMT) on Lawley Middleway, Fez Ferriday formed Tourco (for whom I worked) which operated out of offices next to Musical Exchanges and later premises on Gooch Street, and Graham Careless and Roger Whitehouse formed a band called Force to gig the album material:  I do recall Force in the later-1980s with Musical Exchanges very own Gary Sharpe on guitar regularly gigging at Edward’s Number 7 and 8.

All-in-all a good Birmingham band that enjoyed 10 years of ‘cult’ success but never quite made the big-time.

The Starfighters

A more classic example of a rags to riches – to rags again cautionary tale of the music industry could not wish to be found than that of Birmingham’s Starfighters.  Formed in 1979 the band comprised of Steve ‘Bertie’ Burton (vocals) – previously of Birmingham rock band Cryer, Stevie Young (guitar), Pat Hambly (guitar), Doug Dennis (bass) and Steve Bailey (drums) and followed a very hard rock/ACDC-type groove – understandable with Stevie Young being the cousin of ACDC’s Angus and Malcolm (a band with whom Stevie would tour covering for Malcolm in the late 1980s).

Signed to Jive records (who at that time hosted an eclectic artist list including Tight Fit, A Flock of Seagulls, Billy Ocean and Samantha Fox!), things looked bright for the band.  A self-titled album was released in1981 featuring a raucous blend of hard blues-based rock with Bertie’s rasping, sneering vocals on such track as Don’t Touch Me – a uptempo ditty about a flasher with a penchant for younger viewers – a real standout.

The band hit the pub/club circuit relentlessly and began to gain some press and support slots to some of the bigger names in the hard rock/metal scene of the early 80s.  Often retrospectively co-opted into the ‘New Wave of British Heavy Metal’ genre, the Starfighters ploughed a more lonely furrow – not succumbing to the increasingly bouffant brigade that was beginning to emerge through such bands as the Tygers of Pan Tang, Def Leppard etc – preferring to keep to the tradition of unpretentious, hard drinking rock and roll.

Following the 1983 release of their second album, In-Flight Movie (featuring the Starfighters battle-cry ‘Who Cares’) the band were on tour in the States when they were unceremoniously dropped by their record label . . . and drifted into Birmingham band history.

Fortunately, around 1987 two great things occurred in the history of the Starfighters.  Firstly, Bertie and Stevie decided to give the band another try and reformed – with Rick Sanford (guitar), ex-Surface Jamie Hawkins (drums) and ex-Hostage Steve ‘Redvers’ Hill (bass) – and I met them!  Not that the latter was of any significance in their career but does allow me to introduce a few anecdotes to this tale.

By this time the band were based at a rehearsal studio called The Pits  – having previously been based at a house in Rotton Park Road on the side of the disused railway embankement into which they joked the house was gradually slipping due to the vibrations caused by their extremely loud rehearsals there – which was housed in an incredibly old three storey early Victorian industrial premises on Granville Street backing onto the then-Davenports brewery.  The various floors were accessed via the narrowest, steepest wooden stairs imaginable – almost like long ladders – which I spent a considerable amount of time – in various states of sobriety – falling down and up!  The very top floor contained a ‘recording studio’ and a ‘lounge’ with a pioneering half ceiling which contained Bertie’s bed, as he also lived there.

Regular inhabitants, Bertie aside, of The Pits were a band called Pavlov’s Dogs and Frazer Young – Stevie’s brother – who was an absolute madman and served as the band’s roadie/tour manager/security and just about anything he wanted to be as – despite being of diminutive stature – had a wild temper and heavy Glaswegian accent and, after a few Jack Daniels, could turn from your best friend to your worst enemy in the blinking of an eye . . . remember Robert Carlyle’s ‘Begbie’ character in Trainspotting?  In the bowels of the studio also lurked Phil – a hippie sound engineer with a yellow Luton van and a Tac Blue mixing desk who ran their PA service for local gigs.  Finally, a band from Whitehaven – Teacher – along with a couple of girl friends of theirs – had also come down to live in Birmingham and various members of them and their entourage also kipped down there most nights.

Anyway, back to the band! I got to know them well through working for a PA company and getting to know Phil and through working at Edward’s Number 8 nightclub where Bertie would come for a drink from time to time.  Further, I also did bits of roadie work for a band called the Redbeards from Texas who were long-time mates of the Starfighters . . . if I was particularly drunk and/or too skint to get home from the City Centre, I’d stagger up to The Pits at any time of the night and be given a sleeping bag and a mug of coffee . . . Bertie was an incredibly hospitable chap!

I saw them a few times in the late 80’s era at Birmingham University, an incredibly good turn at the Portland Club in Ladywood along with the Redbeards, and at an Edward’s Number 8 organised metal all-dayer at Goldwyn’s nightclub which, again, was an absolute knockout.  Their energy live was incredible and boy could Bertie sing – and drink, his trademark bottle of Jack Daniels on stage during the set – and spike Rick Sanford’s pint with something rather hallucinogenic causing Rick, mid-gig, to do something rather unseemly in a plastic cup on stage . . . but we won’t go into that any further!

It was during a very late night intoxicated chat with Bertie that I asked what happend to the ‘Mark I’ lineup on their US tour.  Apparently, the band spent their entire US tour’s money from the record company within the first few days of the tour and then when they contacted Jive for more funds, on the back of a few other ‘issues’ with the band,  were swiftly dismissed from the label.  Unfortunately, they had no money to get home so a couple of the band had to get some casual work to get the money together to fly home!

Apart from feeling very lucky to have been around the band and having seen them live – as they were truly a great live act – they were also responsible for one of my biggest regrets.  One night I was at The Pits with ex-Cryer bassist Fez Ferriday and Metallica sound engineer (Big) Mick Hughes having a beer and a chat with Bertie between a sound check and a gig at either Edward’s or Goldwyns.  Apparently a couple of minutes after we left, long-time friend of Bertie’s Ozzy Osbourne turned up for a binge – still gutted to this day that I missed that as Ozzy is another ‘hero’ of mine!

The ‘Mark II’ line up of the band was all too short lived and split in 1989 with Bertie going on to form the E-Numbers who were – whilst good live – more of a traditional blues band and not of the high-aggression and energy of the Starfighters.  In more recent years Bertie fronted Vincent Flatts Final Drive who released several albums (all of which appear to be now only available second hand) and toured relentlessly through Europe and the US with their southern rock stylings.

The last contact I had with any of them was with Pat Hambly – who I hadn’t known during his period in the band – who runs a gents hairdressers (Hair Razors) on Weoley Castle Square.  I went in for a trim and saw a Starfighters poster up on the wall so asked where he’d got it from – as soon as he said he used to be in the band it clicked who he was (second from left in the above photograph) and we had a good old natter about the band.

Shame they’re not still going – as I’m sure anyone who saw them live would agree – and I’ve no idea if Bertie is still gigging:  if anyone knows please post the details.  Both their albums have been released on CD too for anyone interested – I’d recommend them – with bonus tracks not on the vinyl releases and are available from the US on Amazon.

As for The Pits, things went a little downhill following a gig at the Powerhouse when the PA – engineered by Phil – was far from up to scratch and he was last seen being chased down Ridley Street by Fraser Young with a piece of 4 by 2 in his hand.  The studio building has sadly long been demolished and is now a complex of appartments.

Futurist Cinema - John Bright Street

Work began in 1914 on the then to be named Majestic Theatre which opened some two years later in 1916 only to change its name to The Futurist Theatre some three years later in 1919. Always trying to be at the forefront of the cinematic medium, the Futurist was the first cinema in Birmingham to have curtains and to screen ‘talkies’ so always did its best to live up to its name.

In later years, being at the heart of the nightclub district of Birmingham and practically next door to the Alexandra Theatre meant a fair footfall of would be customers for the cinema.  However, during the 1990s the area began to go into decline and with the rise of multi-screen cinemas opening elsewhere – a trend to which the building could not bow – Cannon, who by this time operated the cinema, decided time was to be called during the mid-1990s and the building lay abandoned for several years.

The building itself – possibly the most aesthetically appealing left on John Bright Street in its original state – became the DNA dance club at the close of the 1990s which limped on into the early 2000s when the Spearmint Rhino chain took over the building as their ‘Club Rouge’ gentleman’s club.

Personally, I quite liked the cinema and saw Life of Brian shown with Airplane there many years ago and it’s a shame that it is now, well, what it is but at least it hasn’t been demolished . . . or caught fire – a fate that seems to have befallen many a building around that part of the City’s regeneration zone!

Abigail's Dining & Cabaret Club - John Bright Street

On the back of the runaway successes of the Bermuda Club, Cedar Club, Barbarella’s and Rebecca’s – Birmingham nightclub pioneer Edward Fewtrell identified a niche in the market for an upmarket dining and cabaret club in the City catering for the more affluent residents of and visitors to Birmingham.  He identified the run-down Savoy Hotel & Banqueting Suite (built in a former World War II bomb crater itself the site of the Deer’s Leap public house) and purchased it in 1974, naming it after his youngest daughter Abigail.

The completely refurbished club attracted big names to both perform and dine there – such as Tom Jones – and featured valet parking . . . an idea way ahead of its time in Birmingham and something I recall watching as a child:  people pulling up at the door, getting out of their car and going inside and someone else jumping in their car and driving off in it . . . seemed odd to me then!

Unfortunately, the demand for such a high-class venue was not what had been anticipated and the club struggled to keep afloat following its initial burst onto the scene and so, in 1978, it was sold to Ladbroke’s who turned it into a Casino – a function the building still serves today. Above can be seen the building today with John Bright Street to the right and Hill Street to the left.

Boogie's Brasserie - John Bright Street

Opened by Edward Fewtrell in 1966 as Rebecca’s – named after his eldest daughter – the premises operated along similar lines to later opened Edward’s Number 7 and Edward’s Number 8 bar and nightclub which were housed in an adjacent building in opening in 1979.  On the ground floor accessed from John Bright Street was Rebecca’s Brasserie, and to the rear, accessed from Lower Severn Street, was the nightclub part of the venue which occupied the upper floors (if my memory serves me correctly Edward Fewtrell’s office was on the very top floor) and was originally divided into the Cabasa, the Blue Soul and the Sin Bin.

The view above shows the ‘Geoffrey Buildings’ that housed the venue on the now pedestrianised John Bright Street – which was once a main thoroughfare with both the number 45 and 47 bus routes having their termini opposite the front of the club – with Lower Severn Street running off to the left of the shot.

In later years the club and bar ware renamed Boogies and Boogie’s Brasserie (the only bar where I’ve ever witenessed a mounted policeman entering a premises still on horseback during a particularly lively disagreement with ‘the Zulus’ during the mid 1980s!), respectively, and were – certainly during the early to mid-1980s – always packed and a popular haunt being as it was at the time, in the epicentre of club life in Birmingham.  I’m sure anyone who frequented Boogies will recall Norman ‘Nobby’ Nobbs lurking outside the entrance drumming up business in his inimitable ‘market trader’ style and harassing the queuing minions with his banter!

Sadly, as with the rest of Edward Fewtrell’s clubs, Ansell’s Leisure bought Boogies in 1989 and renamed it Orleans and the nightclub part befell a fire which gutted the premises leading to its partial demolition and rebuilding more in keeping with the Westside Development Scheme . . . which was a stroke of luck for the impending development!

The site of Goldwyn's Nightclub - Suffolk Place

Aimed at a slightly more upmarket crowd than Boogies and Edward’s nightclubs and bars just around the corner, with the opening of Goldwyn’s nightclub in  1989 – along with Paramount bar beneath it in 1988 – Edward Fewtrell aimed to tap-in to the theatre-going public (the Alexandra theatre being next door) and to present live cabaret-style acts and charity ‘dinners’ etc in a nicely decorated and furnished environment:  a cross between what had previously been attempted with Abigail’s and the more run of the mill nightclubs elsewhere in the City.

Whilst it did function for the above purpose on occasion, it largely became a conventional nightclub and became increasingly used for hosting the gigs of larger bands on behalf of Edward’s Number 8 – Nirvana, for example, played here!

When Ansell’s bought Mr Fewtrell’s chain of clubs and bars later in 1989 they moved into the offices above Goldwyn’s to preside over their new ‘empire’.

I can’t say for certain whether or not the above building actually part-comprises the original Goldwyn’s premises as I wasn’t around when the office block above was built but would be interested to hear from anyone with more information.  For orientation purposes, the entrance to the club was where the black roller shutter can be seen behind the road sign.

Following the ‘Goldwyn’s era, the premises became The Foundry and Mr Bill’s Bier Keller which had uprooted from Nedless Alley, off New Street before total closure as a licensed establishment.

My abiding memory is of Texas playing there and during the sound check a severe rainstorm led to a roof leak above the stage.  An irate PR person from the concert promoter stormed over to the sadly now late Don Fewtrell – manager and brother of owner Edward Fewtrell – to vent her spleen about the problem:  “the roof’s leaking onto the band . . . what are we going to do?” she ranted – “get f***ing wet” came Don’s reply . . . magic!