Music
Storm's first name for a group was "Dracula & the Werewolves", but he then settled on "Al Caldwell's Texans". Still known as Alan Caldwell, Storm opened The Morgue Skiffle Club in the cellar of a large Victorian house, "Balgownie", at 25 Oakhill Park, Broadgreen, on 13 March 1958. The cellar consisted of two rooms, painted black and connected by a long corridor, with skeletons painted on the walls and one blue light. Groups played on Tuesdays and Thursdays for up to 100 people (above the age of 15) starting at 7:30 p.m., including Storm's group (later called "The Raving Texans") and The Quarrymen (who later became "The Beatles"). After complaints about the noise, the police closed down the club on 1 April 1958, but Storm reopened it on 22 April 1958. It was in the Morgan Skiffle Club that George Harrison auditioned for The Quarrymen, playing "Guitar Boogie Shuffle" by Bert Weedon, before being admitted as a member of the band. Harrison later asked Storm if he could join his group, but Storm's mother refused to allow it, as she thought Harrison was too young.
Storm went to London, on 11 April 1958, to participate in a cross-country running competition. During his stay, he took part in a jam session at Chas McDevitt's Skiffle Cellar, which resulted in an appearance on 30 April 1958 on Radio Luxembourg's Skiffle club programme, playing "Midnight Special". In 1959, Storm's group consisted of himself, Paul Murphy, and Johnny "Guitar" Byrne all performing on guitar and vocals, Reg Hale (washboard) and Jeff Truman (tea-chest bass). "Spud" Ward, a former member of The Swinging Blue Jeans, later played bass guitar. Storm met Ringo Starr at a talent contest called "6.5 Special". Starr had previously played with The Eddie Clayton Skiffle Group and was then drumming with a group called "Darktown Skiffle". Starr's first concert with Storm was on 25 March 1959, at the Mardi Gras in Mount Pleasant, Liverpool.
Read more about this topic: Rory Storm
Famous quotes containing the word music:
“Good-by, my book! Like mortal eyes, imagined ones must close some day. Onegin from his knees will rise—but his creator strolls away. And yet the ear cannot right now part with the music and allow the tale to fade; the chords of fate itself continue to vibrate; and no obstruction for the sage exists where I have put The End: the shadows of my world extend beyond the skyline of the page, blue as tomorrow’s morning haze—nor does this terminate the phrase.”
—Vladimir Nabokov (1899–1977)
“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
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I love not man the less, but nature more,”
—George Gordon Noel Byron (1788–1824)
“Slow, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my salt tears;
Yet slower yet, oh faintly gentle springs:
List to the heavy part the music bears,
“Woe weeps out her division when she sings.”
Droop herbs and flowers;
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Oh, I could still,
Like melting snow upon some craggy hill,
Drop, drop, drop, drop,
Since nature’s pride is, now, a withered daffodil.”
—Ben Jonson (1572–1637)