POWERHOUSE  was in big demand and toured from the Highlands of Scotland down to the ‘in’ clubs of the capital: such as the Speakeasy, the 100 club and the now legendary Marquee.

Their booker Ian Hamilton even managed to get them a residency at the Scotch of St James, London’s hangout for the rich and famous. It was here that the band shared the stage with Jose Feliciano.

“Jose heard us do a couple of James Brown numbers”, John Firth told me,  “he wanted to know if we knew any others by the King of Soul. Yea, Outa Sight” (very apt, considering). “The result was electrifying. Jose’s guitar part slotted in with the sax parts perfect, we were all absolutely blown away.”

“Another night, the stage was filled with members of The Pretty Things, The Hollies, Zoot Money and others who I can't recall, all jamming with us.” Powerhouse earned the respect of all their fellow musicians, respect well deserved.

In the summer of '66 they spent most of their time playing on the south coast, around Devon and Cornwall, with the exception of a short break in London to record Chain Gang. It was a brave stab at a Top Ten single recorded by Sam Cooke in 1960. It didn’t chart even though their rendition packed the punch that Sam Cooke’s lacked.

Two months later they recorded the Dee Clark number, Raindrops. Tiddy’s soulful voice and Spud's simple guitar melody carried the sad lyrics like a rain cloud, depositing them in the heart. John Firth still has strong feeling about the record, “I still happen to think it's a brilliant record.  To this day, Tiddy's voice sends tingles up my spine when I listen to it.”

Both records received plenty of airtime on radio’s Caroline and Luxembourg but not on the BBC. Luxembourg and the pirate stations were important, but the BBC gave the all important national exposure needed to guarantee success. Financial success may have evaded them but memorable moments like playing support for the Jimi Hendrix Experience and Cream are priceless. 

Tiddy and John stayed together as Powerhouse Part 2, augmented by bass player  Dave Barrow. Barry Blood replaced lead guitarist Kelvin ‘Spud’ Hudson who went to play with Tiger-Tiger in the Bahamas.

Tom’s Rigg

The Spirits, haunted by their failure to make headway, had a change of line up and a change of name to Tom’s Rigg. The original bass player Colin Power was replaced by Phil Carney. When Phil left Pete Kay stepped in on bass and Tommy Rigby joined on vocals, thus the name.

They were a talented five-piece R&B band with a large female following, thanks to the rugged good looks of their lead singer Tommy Rigby.

The band recorded a Louisiana Red number entitled Red’s Dream. Tommy gave a passionate rendition with an energetic harp solo worthy of someone much more experienced. The flipside was Jimmy Reed’s Hush Hush with vocals by their drummer Barry ‘Louie’ Crew.

An excellent, laid back version by the band of this well liked twelve bar. The demo – made at Neald and Hardy - was never followed up and no recordings were ever released by them but I can only put that down to the ignorance of others in the industry rather than a lack of talent.

The demo was lost for nearly 40 years until its present owner brought it to the unveiling of a commemorative plaque at the Old Boars Head in Middleton on 15 May 2004. Jock and Barry were stood no more than 20ft apart, unaware of each other or their mutual connection to Tom's Rigg. I had the good fortune to bring them together, only to find they lived less than a quarter of a mile apart. So near yet so far for all those years.

Tom’s Rigg were regulars at the Cavern and the Jigsaw in Manchester where they worked with some of the greats of sixties music: Edwin Starr, Dusty Springfield and Fontella Bass to name just a few. The two were the same club but rumour has it the Manchester club changed its name after pressure from its more well known Liverpool rival.

Another regular haunt – and I don’t use that word lightly – was the Heaven and Hell, opposite Portland Street bus station. The club was defined on two floors, Heaven being upstairs where the bands played and Hell being the cellar where god only knows what went on in the dark and dingy depths. It was probably a place best avoided if you hadn’t had a tetanus shot.

After working there for quite a while Barry the drummer recalls the shock he had one night. “I was setting up and a young girl passed her bag up and asked me to mind it for her. Later in the night the place was raided by the police, not with truncheons at the ready but with step ladders and bulbs.” There was a moment of stunned silence as the hand-painted 20 watters were changed for 60 watt pearls and when there ‘was light’ a mass search began. Barry was asked to hand over the bag, which just happened to be full of pills.

“I can still remember the shock of that night, it wasn’t from the charge of the light brigade or the bag full of purple hearts stashed under my drums, it was the fact that we had been playing there for months and I never realised what a dump it was.”

Barry has no recollection of any trouble at the Heaven and Hell, which I find strange, because I was under the impression the place was frequented by psychopaths and serial killers. Not so. Barry recalls the DJ asking for silence to make an important announcement one night. “Can Tony the Egg Cup go to the front door, someone wants to speak to him.” Maybe I got it wrong. Lets face it Tony the Egg Cup lacks the unwholesome malevolence of The Milwaukee Monster, The Skid Row Slasher or The Kingston Strangler.