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Search for Sound

Search for Sound 1967

The BOOKLET from Search for Sound can be viewed HERE

Kenny recalls:

Saturday the first of April 1967, the Zanies leave the Garside guest house in Gumbizel at around four in the morning. It’s the day of the Search for Sound finals in Streatham London.

It only took about six hours to get down there, travel was slow in them days. Around nine o’clock we were heading down the Edgeware Road, christ what bloody traffic, should have set off at two maybe. I remember the radio playing, Radio London, a pirate radio station, no Radio One in them days, Semi Detached Surburban Mr James sang the Manfreds, well Edgware Road was certainly not related to that song, then Dusty came on and said she was Going to try Anything, I think we all took her advice in those days, great song though. (strange how you remember songs from events so long ago)

We eventually got to Streatham ice rink at about eleven o’clock and took our gear in (no roadies that day, they’d travelled down on the coach to keep order or to keep the beer flowing)

There were eight acts appearing and they were:
1. The Zany Woodruff Operation,
2. The Mud (Streatham),
3. East 43 Set (Birmingham),
4. Solomans Mines (Liverpool),
5. The Kynde (Bristol),
6. The Frame Of Mind (Southampton),
7. The Pitiful Souls ( Sheffield),
and finally Chris, a folk singer from Manchester.

The judges of the competition were Cathy McGowan, Cyril Stapleton and Dave Cash.
The rules of the competition were that all acts had to be in the rink for twelve pm when a sound check would be done and lots drawn for the performing order for the evening. Unfortunately The Mud did not turn up at twelve o’clock and no explanation was sent, so by the rules of the competition they should have been disqualified, however the organiser’s waived that rule because they said there would be uproar if they did not appear as they were the local band. What happened next was farcical, they were allowed to appear and given the last spot of the evening (the prime spot). We were drawn third or fourth, we realised that there was only one winner after the rules were broken and we were proved right. We played a pretty good set and came second, The Pitiful Souls came third. All the other bands complained that we should be winners but to no avail, what occured next i will leave for the other guys  to put on record, however it was not our finest hour. The Mud went on to achieve universal fame, who knows what would have happened if we had won, but I believe the Zanies did make a great impact, so of that we should be proud.

Just a few years ago I was talking to Pete in the Belle Vue pub on Dewsbury moor, and in his drunken way he said, you know we were very nearly stars, my answer to that was, well for a short time we were highfliers but so was Icarus and you know what happened to him, and maybe we just burnt ourselves out, but what I should have said to Pete was, in my eyes you were always a star son.




Seven-and-six to get in? That’s over 37p in new money !

Ticket to Ride….well at least on the official ZWO coach it was. Note that an official travelled with each coach to supervise that everybody had enough beer to drink.

Gaz’s account of the event:

Memories oh memories! In Streatham ask Slim the roadie about entering a local drinking establishment in a conga line, each member after downing their drink saying the person behind is paying. I think the last person was the Gnome who instantly legged it.
Slim also entered the venue with large banner concealed down his shirt and down his trousers. Banners were not allowed, and when confronted by a rather large doorman Slim replied “Dont mock the afflicted son”, and limped into the ice rink.

As mentioned by Kenny tension mounted after Mud who we understood were managed by one of the judges and were a local band, and broke the rules, naughty boys!
There was a huge battle on the ice, the northern lads didn’t need ice skates. Quite a funny spectacle, beats Dancing On Ice any day.
Also a drummer of some reputation launched Mud’s drummer down a flight of steps and across the ice after hearing the chap saying “Weren’t we f***ing great”. Out in the car park a talented band from the north who we can’t name but came third had Mud’s van up on bricks, while one of their members was duly wortalling in the petrol tank. I suppose its a good job Mud were locals.

Many years later whilst supporting Darts (the band not the sport!), I reminded the guitarist who used to be in Mud about the incident at Streatham ice rink. He remembered and told me that they had already got the recording contract and were told that they didn’t have to turn up till the evening as they knew they were on last. About his drummers flying lesson he said “Top job, I didn’t like the cocky b***ard anyway!”.

If anybody can further any more about that fateful day please send your version to the site as us old duffers are losing the plot!
Funny i can’t remember good old Sewell asking “Pass me my chiv” on that occasion, strange.

PS. Flying lessons still available.

Late recollection: Lockwood was found hiding in the toilets!!!!!!



Slim the Roadie gives his account:

The day started quietly enough as pies and soft drinks were loaded through the front door of the coaches by well meaning people, however the emergency exits to the rear of the vehicles were also opened to provide a passage for numerous crates of beer and a bucket.

Off we set in good heart and despite varying pleas to the driver to stop at every pub we ended up having to drink the emergency rations. At this point the cunningly concealed bucket came into play and most of the passengers flashed or otherwise exposed themselves en route, especially the young lady (who will forever remain nameless) that fell off it as we went around a roundabout. The only disaster really was by the buffoon who attempted to empty it through a small window. Needless to say he sat alone the rest of the way.

Finally having arrived in the metropolis the throng descended upon a local restaurant to avail themselves of some local delicacies, and following the meal proceeded into the pub where indeed the conga did take place and it was proved that you can drink beer faster than the bar staff could pull it and keep count.

Into the place, good music, good time had by all until the knowledge of what had gone on. Mayhem ensued, indeed at one stage it was like attending the world’s largest coconut shy. Bottles and glasses rained from the balcony and the rink was a seething mass of bodies, none of whom were shaking hands. Eventually we found ourselves outside, made sure everyone was there and told the buses to go to avoid further problems.

My last recollection of the days events was at some unearthly hour of the morning after whilst speeding up the M1 in the van we were overtaken by the guys from Sheffield, nothing unusual in that you may think but I was driving in the fast lane and they overtook on my right hand side, the other side of the barriers !! Hope they got home ok.


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