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Golden Voices - 5 September 2008

Josie Loftus
5/ 9/2008

SOME moons ago (less than 12, maybe five or six) I think I mentioned that there are a lot of stories to be told about the good old days of the dance halls that provided us 'teeny-boppers' of the late 50s early 60s era with the facility to hear the music we wanted to listen to and to dance to it.

We could meet up with our peers and to develop and enjoy being at the beginning of the most exciting time ever for the 'new youth' who would end up re-shaping the way in which politicians, businesses, music, art, language, fashion and just about everything that is now taken so much for granted.

Picture the scenario; it is late winter/early spring 1959 and coming up to our fifteenth birthdays.

We 'Baby Boomers' who were born during the latter years of World War II were being 'slung' out of what little cocoon we had; out into the big wide world of employment … without any choices. I don't really remember ever being asked what I wanted to do with my life and going off what my best friends Anne, Linda and Tresley I wasn't the only one to wonder what was going to happen next.

It just seemed that we left school (me in tears) on the Friday and were told to report to (in my case) Tootal's where my needlework skills would put me in 'good stead' for life.

But unlike our last generation; all we were interested in was trying to catch a line on the latest melodic hit by one of the favourites of the day. Elvis was paramount with his 'Teddybear, Paralysed, All Shook Up, Wooden Heart and … then it was Cliff Richards singing 'Move It'. For me, this song and it's incredible beat was better than anything Elvis had ever done but better was to follow, Tommy Edwards, Sam Cook, Ben E.King … OH! … nothing but nothing can beat Ben E.King singing 'Stand By Me'. To this very day, me and my peers (when we're together) go into a sort of trance whenever we hear the chocolatey rich voices of those fantastic black singers of the early Motown (pre-Beatles) stable.

But, to, get back to those early days of 'pop' when we earned a measley sum of about £2. 10 pence a week out of which we had to hand over the whole of our pay packet and receive back about five to ten shillings (25 to 50 pence) depending on how well off your parents or guardians were. I really don't remember me or any one else within our circle being any better or worse off than each other. I suppose its because in those days there was no media hype such as there is now concerning fashion and the most fashionable thing's we could afford was a much saved up for 'top' from C&A that cost an exorbitant 19/11d. As for skirts and dresses; we made them for ourselves out of scraps of material, during lunch time. What money we could scrimp and scrape together either between us or just for ourselves; we would buy the latest record on the hit parade, take it home and practice dancing to it until the next Palais date arrived which was usually the next day being Sunday afternoon … Oh! all that dancing, getting the moves right and planning out what we were going to wear (as though we had a massive choice).

And then at the magic hour of 3 O' clock we would pay our 1/3 to Mrs. Hunt who sat in the pay kiosk of Newton Heath Palais. Mr. Hunt who was a big portly man would be standing next to the kiosk welcoming us well practised jivers hardly able to get into the darkened ballroom quick enough. Alan Hunt the all 'American Kid' with his fake American accent and son of Mr & Mrs Hunt, would already be on the stage acting the DJ, playing a medley of songs and music, warming up and getting everyone in the mood for some serious enhancement. In the far left hand corner, Mick Crompton was a joy to watch as he strutted his stuff to the best of Rock 'n' Roll. Mick was one of the regular 'barrow boy's' who worked on Smithfield Market when it was in it's heyday on Shude Hill. Given the same opportunities today; Mick would probably have been able to enjoy a career in dance and movement but alas no such thing, then, was regarded as a means of employment.

The first place to aim for was the toilets where we girls would touch up our Max Factor or Rimmel make-up, share some Bel-air hairspray as well as some lippy. We would gen up on any gossip that might be of interest; especially who was now going with who? And who had broken up with who? and who was preg… (these were the days when any talk about contraception and sex education was taboo). It's hard to believe how the adage in those days was that 'ignorance is bliss'. The thing this adage created was absolute misery for the youngsters who believed in it!.

So, when all the gossip had been expounded and dissected to within an inch of its life we would descend down the stairs onto the dance floor, over to our usual table's and then sidle up to the 'All American Kid' and place our request for the songs we wanted to be played before and after whichever group was due to appear as 'guest artist'.

I can well remember a particularly fantastic singer who could really perform his act as though he was Elvis, PJ Proby, Billy Fury and any of the up and coming Motown Singers … but Oh! how we dreaded him as he would ape his way over to any girl who looked a little vulnerable and then start dancing embarrassingly awful whilst he was singing the most fabulous romantic song. We soon got to recognise his mad antics and would quickly make ourselves sparse whenever he made his was over to our table. Oh! yes, that famous comedian did indeed make a nuisance of himself at 'Newt Neef Palais' long before he became famous and he was exactly then like he is now; fantastically funny, a great singer but a very lonely person.

The 'Dancing Queen's' of the day were two girls who could perform a routine the like's of which would be much prized by today's choreographer's who have studied for years at today's 'Academyies' and who by comparison to Barbara Quinn and Pat O'Neill couldn't hold a candle. These two girls could 'sing with their feet' literally. Their co-ordination, precision of movement and timing with music was like watching a computer controlled image long before its time. Their dance routines were like 'Poetry in Motion' which made Pan's People's attempt at dance appear daft and clumsy. By 5 O'clock the afternoon of dance and music was over until Wednesday evenings and again on Fridays 7pm whilst 10pm. This meant two whole days of post mortem examination on what had happened during those few magical hours away from parents, grown ups, school, college, work and all those teen troubles we were glad to leave behind us, just for a while, at least.

As each year passed and we got that little bit older, our music changed, we changed and life changed. With a little bit more money in our pockets, more things to buy like matching shoe's and bags, jewellery accessories and sophisticated make-up like Leichener we moved on and upwards to the Plaza on Oxford St. where Jimmy Saville (now Sir Jimmy Saville) was the resident DJ dressed in his trade mark half white, half black suit with his half white half black dyed hair.

The lads of the day had also moved up a bit in the world of fashion. Do you remember when red ties and matching pocket handkerchiefs were all the rage and with suits from Burton's … didn't they look the part, eh?. Next as though like a rite of passage was the Northern and Southern Sporting Clubs, The Palladium on Collyhurst St, and later on the Broadway Club which was then regarded as a bit more upmarket especially when there was talk of Frank Sinatra 'soon to be appearing' but never quite managing to agree on the fee they weren't willing to pay, shame.

By the time my sons were grown up enough to earn themselves some money to get dressed up, go out and have fun; our generation had 'had its day' and those fantastic dance halls and clubs were a thing of the past as new one's evolve, live for a time and then die out, ready for the next revolution which is where we're at now because my son is now in exactly the same position as we were then.

I hope you've enjoyed this little bit of nostalgia from the 60s. It leads me to invite you to come and enjoy an 'Afternoon with Golden Voices' on Sunday 19 October, from 1pm to 5pm at The Music Hall on Church Street Newton Heath. It will be an opportunity for us all to get together, enjoy going over good times as well as indulging in the great music of our time. It will be ticket only but they will be on sale at venues to be announced.