I never set out to become “a mod”, there just wasn’t anything else to be. It’s 1961 and you either identified yourself with your father’s generation – short back and sides with brillcream, trousers with turn-ups, cigarettes with beer, the BBC light service radio with the quickstep, and the working men’s club with your Dad and his mates on a Saturday night. “Or” you rebelled. Rebellion in those days was painted in black and white. My school forbade long hair so we grew long hair. Cuban heel boots were not allowed so we wore them. The Beatles and Stones were considered the antichrists so we listened to them, idolised them and emulated them. Dad was old fashioned, we were modern. Anything he liked we hated. We were mods. Maybe not the mods you know but we had to start somewhere, right.
redandwhiterag
Mod Memories: Well, It’s Dance Time – 4
“Any problem in the world can be solved by dancing” – James Brown
‘Out on the floor each night I’m really moving
The band is wailin right, I feel like groovin
The chicks are out of sight, and I am approvin
The crowd is in tonight beggin for more
While I’m getting my kicks out on the floor’
Mod Memories: That Driving Beat – 5
Detroit may be the home of Tamla Motown and Memphis the home of Stax but for my money the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg did more for English Mods than either of the other two. Let me explain. It’s 1960. Rock and Roll from Sun records rules the America airwaves. Elvis is King and in Detroit and Memphis the sound of Soul music was just getting off the ground. People like Berry Gordy (of Tamla) and Jim Stewart (of Stax) were recording the R&B and gospel acts that had, up to now, only been on the local circuit but were destined for the Soul hall of fame. Marvin Gaye, Jr. Walker, Wilson Pickett, and Rufus Thomas to name but a few. It was a seminal era for ‘that driving beat’
Mod Memories: Well, People Notice You, You’re Not Well Dressed – 6
George IV hung around with a circle of noble, well-dressed fellows whom a reader will meet often in the pages of a Regency romance. They were often styled as Corinthians, and members of The Four-In-Hand Club. The most famous of these dashing young men, though not himself of noble blood, was Beau Brummel. Beau Brummel was the top of the heap until one day, when he was feeling particularly full of himself, he asked one of George IV’s cronies ‘Who is your fat friend?’ Such wanton disrespect for royalty was too much, even for the worshipful in-crowd. Beau Brummel was disgraced, left the country and eventually died in poverty. Nowadays he would probably have done well on the talk show circuit.