Like what you see? Help keep it going! This site runs on the support of readers like you. Your donation helps cover costs and keeps fresh Rolling Stones content coming your way every day. Thank you!
The Rolling Stones in the press: “Nowadays it means the music that goes round and around – or the Rollin’ Stones are gathering them in” (by Barry May)
JAZZ – Nowadays it means the music that goes round and around—or the Rollin’ Stones are gathering them in
A MUSICAL magnet is drawing the jazz beatniks away from Eel Pie Island, Twickenham, to a new mecca in Richmond.
The attraction is the new Craw-Daddy Rhythm and Blues Club at the Station hotel, Kew Road—the first club of its kind in an area of flourishing modern and traditional jazz haunts.
Rhythm and blues, gaining more popularity every week, is replacing “traddypop” all over the country, and even persuading the more sedate modernists to leave their plush clubs. The deep, earthy sound produced at the hotel on Sunday evenings is typical of the best of rhythm and blues that gives all who hear it an irresistible urge to “stand up and move.”
Akin to both rock ’n’ roll and the skiffle music that raced up and down the charts of three and four years ago, rhythm and blues has been described as “pepped-up” blues and “original American Negro pop-music.” But the sound also has its modernistic leaning, a fact apparent from some of the material used by the thriving rhythm and blues groups.
Traditional jazz as a commercial enterprise is played out, and modern jazz has never been able to command major audiences in this country.
One of the founders of the jazz club, Eelpiland, as it is called, where attempts at presenting both traditional and modern jazz have been made, Arthur Chisnell admitted that “things have been quiet.” The four and five nights of jazz every week on the island has dwindled to only two—at the weekend.
Rhythm and blues can claim to provide almost a happy medium for young jazz fans. Modernists and “traddies” can be seen side by side at the Station hotel, listening to esident group, the Rollin’ Stones.
From a meagre 50 or so on the club’s first night, less than two months ago, attendances have rocketed by an average of 50 a week to last Sunday’s record of 320. And the membership book lists more than 700 names of rhythm and blues devotees from all parts of London and West Surrey.
Club promoter, bearded Italian film director, Giorgio Gomelsky, is thrilled with the success of the club—but fears he may have to close the membership list if its popularity continues to rise.
Jazz-lover Giorgio first visited Richmond in August, 1961, when he produced a film featuring the Chris Barber jazz band at the first National Jazz Festival held at the Athletic ground, Old Deer Park.
The Rollin’ Stones, a six-piece group, were formed just 10 months ago.
Since then they have played in more than a dozen London rhythm and blues clubs, as well as appearances at the West End Marquee Club.
Semi-professionals now, although the average age of the group is only 20, the daytime occupations of its members are as varied as the instruments they play.
Driving force behind the group is London School of Economics student Mick Jagger, vocal and harmonica. He is backed by architect Brian Jones (guitar, harmonica, maracas), guitarist Keith Richards, an art student, bass guitarist Bill Wyman, a representative, drummer Charles Watts, a designer, and on piano, Ian Stewart.
Although “pop” numbers are sometimes played, songs written and recorded by the American rhythm and blues guitarist Bo Diddley are the Rollin’ Stones’ favourites. Their appreciation of him is carried to the extent of naming the club after a dance Bo Diddley has invented, the “craw-daddy.”
The 300 and more in their late teens and early 20s who pack the club on Sunday nights do a dance similar to the craw-daddy. But most improvise on a wildly remote form of the hully-gully, similar to the twist.
For those less inclined to express their feelings for the music, physically, the Rollin’ Stones also provide visual entertainment.
Hair worn Piltdown-style, brushed forward from the crown like “The Beatles” pop group—“we looked like this before they became famous”—the rhythm section, piano, drums and bass guitar provide a warm, steady backing for the blues of the harmonicas and lead guitars.
Save for the swaying forms of the group on the spotlit stage, the room is in darkness. A patch of light from the entrance doors catches the sweating dancers and those who are slumped on the floor where chairs have not been provided.
Outside in the bar the long hair, suede jackets, gaucho trousers and Chelsea boots rub shoulders with the Station hotel’s “regulars,” resulting in whispered mocking, though not unfriendly remarks about the “funny” clothes.
Few regulars have taken exception to the pub’s new customers, and only a small number have chosen to no longer drink there on Sunday nights.
The Rollin’ Stones and the Craw-Daddy Club have put the Station hotel on the map, as far as youngsters are concerned.
How sad and unfortunate that it is destined to be soon wiped off the map. Demolished, flattened to the ground and replaced with a brand new public-house.
THE CRAW-DADDY CLUB WILL BE FORCED TO LOOK FOR ANOTHER WEEKLY STAGE—AND THE ROLLIN’ STONES WILL GO ON ROLLIN’.
Like what you see? Help keep it going! This site runs on the support of readers like you. Your donation helps cover costs and keeps fresh Rolling Stones content coming your way every day. Thank you!
Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here:
Cookie Policy
Subscribe to the Stones Data newsletter and get all daily posts delivered to you for free. Everybody got to go! *Support the site and help me keep sharing great content. Thanks in advance!
