We’ve already covered the problems associated with choosing various people to populate your band. In our specific instance, the missing link following “Dimebargate” was a bass player. Now, fortunately I had made friends with a tall streak of piss called Fryer, who had relocated to the gritty urban landscape of Beeston, Leeds from the dappled glades of Worcester. That was his first piece of bad luck.
His second piece of bad luck was allowing me to persuade him to become our bassist. He didn’t own a bass, didn’t know what a bass was and this put him at a disadvantage in our discussions as we mulled over potential roles he could fill. Actually, my cause was helped by our mutual love of The Stone Roses. Their bassist, Mani, has escaped the ‘strictly in the background’ profile of most bass players and was considered to be Pretty Fucking Cool Actually.
I remember journeying into Leeds with him to purchase a bass. Our reasoned, informed decision? A hollow metal, red monstrosity with a standard guitar amp – fifty quid all in. We now had something approaching a line-up of musicians. With bass, drums, guitar and vocals all catered for (to a very fucking limited degree) we could legitimately claim to be A Band.
But this, of course, raises issues of it’s own… for what music is a band to play? Enter the vexed question of Cover Versions and DIY Songwriting.