After nearly 30 years of searching we have finally discovered some recordings from the 1969 Bath Festival of Blues. The sound quality of these rare recordings is not perfect but that they exist at all is a miracle and show exactly how the scene was evolving and just how many fine musicians were around at this time.

PRICE £ 65. + Postage

If you wish to purchase this commemorative set or require further information re the CD and DVD track listing please email info@rockmusicmemorabilia.com.

phone UK 01954 268088 or USA 011441954 268088

The father of British rock festivals remembered in plush tome. Being the tale of the first decade in the musical life of promoter Freddy Bannister - the man who began by hiring Johnny Kidd for £25 in 1960 then, after hiring the Stones, Beatles, Pink Floyd and the Who for club dates, made his indelible mark with the Bath Festival in 1970 and the Lincoln festival with James Taylor in 1971. Thoroughly readable, it's full of anecdotes(how Peter Grant thumped Gene Vincent, how Cream took an audience vote as to whether or not they should play. etc). Packaged in a box, with an array of reprinted festival programmes, handbills, tickets and a book of glossy photos taken at gigs he promoted. - Fred Dellar.

 

EXTRACTS FROM RECORD COLLECTORS TWO PAGE REVIEW

A BOXED SET OF MEMORABILIA BRINGS BACK MEMORIES OF
THE BATH AND LINCOLN FESTIVALS AND THE 60s POP CIRCUIT

The bag of replica tickets, programmes and flyers is, at first glance, the most attractive part of the package for RC readers. The programmes (for the 1969 and 1970 Bath Festivals, and the subsequent Lincoln folk festival featuring everyone from James Taylor, The Byrds, Tim Hardin to Dion) are evocative period pieces - for the innocence of their artists' biogs, for the sheer nostalgia of their vintage adverts, for their hippy jargon (the 1970 programme was taken over by Time Out boss Tony Elliott), and for their occassional period mistakes. It is amusing to see an ad for a forthcoming gig by 'Steffenwolf' , for instance, or a promise of an appearance in Bath by The Who, who were apparently best known for their hit single 'Something in The Air'.

Other memorabilia in the bag includes a flyer for The Bath Pavilion concerts in June 1963, which were to feature Shane Fenton and Fentones, Ketty Lester and, from Liverpool, The Beatles. (Even that early in their rise to fame, in costs 2/-, or 10p, more to see The Fabs than the Fentones.) There are festival tickets and posters and an information sheet for the 1970 Bath Festival of Blues and Progressive Music, which recommends that punters should bring the following items: “Sunglasses, raincoat, blankets, heavy clothing, a sweater or coat, torch, elastoplasters, asprin, etc.and a groundsheet”. No mention, you’ll notice, of those other 60s festival necessities, black Moroccan, Lebanese Hash, and brown acid….

For an authentic taste of the sixties rock scene, however, turn to Freddy Bannister’s ‘Just Broken Even’ book. Though the text could have benefited from some professional editing, it’s still a fascinating and entirely believable account of his activities as a promoter. It’s great strength is that Bannister never bends the truth to glorify himself, or pretends to remember details that have escaped him. As an example, it would have been all too easy for him to wax lyrical about the glories of watching Jimi Hendrix at close quarters; but instead, he admits that this particular Hendrix experience left little impression on him, and moves on.

That lends an extra layer of realism to the stories that he does remember – Robert Plant and his Band of Joy sabotaging a gig by The Honeycombs to ensure that their support slot would be massively extended; The Beatles’ backroom crew trying to force him to pay for imaginary damage to the groups’ van; The Byrds blowing their big chance to 1965 due to their sheer musical incompetence; Arthur Brown dealing with complaints about his bad language on stage with a choice two word response; and The Walker Brothers launching themselves on to the British gig circuit with a display of callous indifference to their fans.

Despite its lapses in proof reading the Just Broken Even book leaves the reader (like the Walker Brothers’ fans back in 1965) gagging for more. It might not have the big name appeal of a super star autobiography but the entire box set proves that small details bring the past alive far more effectively than the glossy blandness of most sixties memoirs. - Peter Doggett