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	Interview with John Prendo recorded 29th April 2002 driving back from a gig at the Turks Head, South Shields page 2
	Pete: Yeah alright, so then you found yourself back in Scarborough, eighteen, nineteen years old, playing a bit. People like Johnny Labrum you met, didn't you? Were they just acquaintances you met on the street at Scarborough? Because John plays a bit, doesn't he. John: Well ... the folk club gang, yeah. We ended up sharing the same bedsitter, Albermarle Crescent. In fact I wrote a song called "38 Albermarle Crescent Stomp". Pete: Hee hee. Is that a song with words, or a tune? John: No, instrumental, sorry. Yeah, I went through all the ... Pete: What were you doing down the folk clubs? Were you playing blues, or singing folk songs? Bob Dylan, or what? John: Things like "Tom Payne". Pete: Oh right. Great tune. John: Bob Dylan songs. "Girl from the North Country." It's pretty, looking back on it, pretty nice times really, except we never got paid ...... ever. Pete: Did you not? Did you get the offers ..... like a pint of beer or something? John: Yeah, a packet of crisps. Because there wasn't much back in the bedsitter to eat. We had the bread, and Johnny had the jam. Pete: What was that story you told me about, with Johnny? I know it's you guys living together, whose pint of milk it is and blah blah? John: We used to share things out, you know? But I remember one particular night. Like I said, we had this bread, and he had the jam. But his door was locked unfortunately. It was locked because he knew we'd have his jam. We'd seen it. Survival if you like. He'd quite like to get back to a bit of jam, I suppose. But we had the bread, of course. Anyway I remember we climbed out of the skylight, picked all the putty out of the windows, opened the window and climbed in, and stole his jam, or a large majority of it. It seemed quite normal at the time. He didn't notice until a couple of days later when it rained, and water started coming through the glass. He realised that someone had ... he put two and two together. Very sound guy. He gave us a good pasting ..... No, nothing like that. We were good friends. We laughed about it. We still do. But I think we all go through that ..... when you're in bedsit land. Pete: Yeah. So when did you next start playing in bands? Did the folk thing go on for some time, or did you get a band together? John: I thought I had to get serious, and start making money at it at some stage. I was getting quite thin, believe it or not. You can get along without eating much for a few years, but then you start to feel it as well. So paying gigs were found, if you like. I actually went down to work for a while, to get a bit of money to buy an instrument or something, with Johnny Labrum actually .... to work at Vauxhalls. Pete: What. Down south? John: Yeah, on the big machines that stamp out car doors and stuff like that. It lasted about three weeks. 'Till I saw the first bad accident down there. It resembled somebody being ... it was one of the fitters actually. The machine was stuck and he forgot to put ... or nonchalantly decided that he didn't need to put ....the jacks underneath the press. These were incredible things that used to press out car doors. Anyway, all we saw was just like strawberry jam, if you like, and a few clothes. Pete: Shit. John: Awful. And I decided that life was more important. But we earnt some good money for a while. And then back to playing. I remember busking in Marble Arch with Johnny as well. We decided to give busking a try. That was quite dangerous. There was two of us. Pete: How do you mean dangerous? How come? John: There was a lot of, if you like, drunken unfortunate people, begging on the streets in them days as well. And they used to get quite stroppy when they saw that you'd earnt a few shillings ... to ask you for money, and if you didn't give it to them they'd try to pick a fight. But we were Yorkshire lads, like. And then of course it was organised as well, you know? Like little mafia ... Pete: Protection things going on. John: Yeah. You had to pay for your pitch, really. Anyway we didn't earn too much, so we decided it wasn't a very good idea. Back up to Scarborough. Pete: On the left, on the right man, right here. Right, right, right, right! John: (laughs) It is a French car, you know. Pete: I'm intrigued man, we've known each other for a considerable time ... at what point as a guitarist you started gigging in ..... either working with a band or just organising your own band, when did that happen? John: It just happened. I didn't decide it to happen, it's just eventually you get a confidence that tells you it's time to do your own band. I don't know really, perseverance, you know? Pete: How old were you? John: My own band? Pete: Or a band you were sitting in with. Didn't you work with that guy ... John: Oh, I worked with loads of people. Cabaret outfits and stuff. I don't even want to remember those. Pete: What about Robert Palmer, didn't you work with him for a while? John: No, I sat in for ... I think it was Alan Black, a guy called Alan Black on guitar when he was ill once. For one night. But apart from that, it was just working in ... there was a guy called Stan James, who used to sing old Roy Orbison stuff. Quite interesting material, actually. And we did an acoustic, I mean an instrumental set. And I sang a couple of songs ... I suppose that was really the time I started singing. Pete: Had you always sung? Going back to when you were at junior, primary school, doing your piano work, did you sing, or not? Some people do, don't they, did you? John: No, I never used to sing. I was a choirboy for a while, but I used to just - not choirboy, altar boy, that was it. I went to a Catholic school, Catholic upbringing. Which has totally turned me into an atheist. Nothing more likely to give anybody a bad outlook on religion than going to a religious school. Anyway, I got a job as an altar boy. I used to quite like them white things they used to give you at communion. The taste was ... but I fell over one day with a Bible. I remember very well that day, when I was kicked out of altar boyism. Because all my mates were laughing, as I hurtled down the steps of the altar, on my face with the Bible. A priest with a red face getting very angry. Of course I giggled as well, like you do. That's what life's all about, isn't it, having a laugh really. Not stupid doctrines. You don't realise it at the time I don't think, but it's all very character building is that. I could have done without it, mind. Pete: So what happened, John? There you were with Johnny Labrum and those guys, doing the folk clubs. I remember it myself, I was playing folk clubs from Stockton to Hull, Sunderland to Hull I think, when I was about seventeen, before I went down south to go to college and stuff, and it was a real solid scene. There were some really good places. Freedom Folk down in Hull where the Watersons were based was a good one ... did you stay in Scarborough or did you then move away? Apart from going to Vauxhalls, you went back to Scarborough ... did you work in London? John: No, I got a job as a milkman for a while as well. I was a milkman at least two times in my life. Until one day that I remember very very well ... anyway, it's not important. Pete: Are you sure? John: One day my finger swelled up to twice the normal size. With delivering milk. With the cold. Horror! How can you play guitar with fingers two inch thick? Pete: So what were you doing, being a milkman by day and doing the clubs, cabaret, whatever, by night? John: Yeah, [?] supporting myself in whatever way I can, but when you're playing nights, you can't do a daytime job. You obviously get in their bad books and eventually lose the job. You can't get home at the early hours of the morning, and get up at seven o'clock and start delivering milk. Over a long time. Pete: What, were you travelling, doing this playing? John: Sometimes, yeah. I used to get ... because I was quite interested in all styles. Country as well, I used to get a few country gigs. Pete: Who were you listening to in those days, when you think back, eighteen to twenty-one? Who was turning you on? John: It's just what was going on in the places where I was. I mean, not too interested in popular bands really. The most popular it got was perhaps The Who or The Small Faces. Pete: Did you listen to blues stuff? John: When I was in Cambridge, we used to go to, I think it was called the Red Cow Blues Club? I remember one night in particular it was Black Cat Bones, and the guitarist was Paul Kossoff from Free. He used to make that guitar sing. And the other band was a little band with Danny Kirwan in. Ex- Fleetwood Mac - well, before Fleetwood Mac. Pete: Slide player, yeah? John: Well it was before Free as well, they were early bands for those two. No, he was just a very good guitarist. He played, Paul Kossoff had a Gibson, I think Les Paul Custom in those days. I'm pretty sure it was actually. But Danny Kirwan was on a Watkins Rapier. Amazing sound. Very talented. When I say talented, it used to sound so good. Obviously it was talent. Pete: A young guy, he must have been about the same age as you. John: Something like that, yeah. Pete: When did you first get the dosh together then, to get your first electric guitar? John: Well, I had a copy of a Gibson. Pete: What, SG or ...? John: No, it's a Melody Maker. Which is right-handed, and I turned all the knobs round. I actually built a face if you like, what's the word, a veneer on the top of it. Took everything off, glued the veneer and put them on the right way round for me, if you like, left-handed. The Melody Maker, it looked the same, it was geometrically the same, top or bottom, so it made a good left-handed guitar. Pete: A bit like an SG in a sense. John: I put some Ibanez super-seventy pickups on it, I remember that. Hand painted it, made quite a good job of it as well. And then one day I bought a transit van. Pete: You did? You bought it yourself? John: Yeah, an old transit van. An old one. I didn't pay a lot of money for it. But it didn't lock up very well, and it got stolen. Parked up at a friend's house for five minutes, just to call in ... because I always used to take my guitar in with me if I stayed anywhere. I was just a little bit ... Pete: Careless. John: Nonchalant and careless, and that disappeared. Pete: You weren't insured, obviously. John: No. Pete: Didn't even think about those things. John: No. I wasn't earning enough really. And then after that, it was more or less, I made my own guitar for a while. Pete: Did you? John: I got a job as a keyboard player in a ska band. Pete: Did you? Oh right. What, like two-tone ska? John: Sort of UB40 ish. Good, good, really good band, really exciting band. But they got a bad reputation. They were called Devil's Money. Or Demon's Mint, actually. There was a few violent happenings in a few gigs, so that folded up. Pete: Were they a skinhead band? John: Half skinheads. Toured with Bad Manners, UB40. Pete: You toured with UB40? John: One or two gigs, you know. And we played supports to people like XTC. They were well organised. Pete: Where was that at? Where was the gig? John: Hmm? Pete: Where was the gig, where would you be doing the supports? John: Round Doncaster way. Pete: What, like Doncaster Top Rank? John: And down Nottingham, Rock City. Pete: Oh yeah. Did you play the Top Rank? John: Yeah, that was with XTC I think. The support, support XTC. It was quite a lively - I think it still is actually - music scene round that way. Although I don't play that much round that way any more. And then one day I was offered a job doing a bit of painting and decorating - I used to do a bit of painting and decorating, you know. Actually got my own self-employed act together for a while. One or two big jobs I got were down in Kensington, London, doing out entire flats and things. But the guy used to pay later, which is impossible when you've not got any capital. So that folded up pretty quickly. I used to work with a guy called Sid from Brid, yeah? Pete: Sid from - oh yeah, the PA gadgie. John: And he was the guy who said, "Come and work with me, forget about the money, I'll buy you a good guitar." And that's how I got my Tokai. Pete: Is that right? I didn't know that. John: Sid from Brid ..... payment for two jobs. Pete: So how long have you had that? John: I've never regretted it. Must be about between sixteen and twenty years now. And then of course, I met you. Pete: That would be fifteen years ago. John: Yeah, something like that. Pete: Something like that, getting on that way. John: After several attempts to form my own band. And here we are today,Peter. Cruising up to Blakey, Blakey Top. Waiting for an act of God. Pete: That's right. Just for the record, what guitars do you use now? What's the set-up? John: Well, the Tokai... Pete: Because obviously you've played, you've been very quiet and reticent about the history of your playing, that we've just been talking about. But I know that you're a man who's played some thirty odd years, to a very high standard. You pick up bits and bobs. What are your preferences that you've learnt over that time, what do you use? John: What, guitars? Pete: Guitars and amplifiers, you know, pedals, all that bit of trainspottery stuff. John: Well, the Tokai is an extension of my body, because it just went so well with me. And now I've got some really nice pickups on it, I think they're Van Hans pickups, which were put on by a guy in France while I was down there. And I don't regret it - it's starting to sound like an old Strat now. And of course, there's my good friend Graham, Graham Brotton, who's made me already two excellent guitars, the first one was a Telecaster - do you remember that gig? Just before I went to France, wasn't it. Graham's an amazing fellow. Pete: He is, yeah. John: Such a good workman as well. Christ, man. I was talking to this guy one day, the same guy, Graham, in a pub, he's asking me what kind of guitars I like, what kind of necks, what kind of pickups, and six months, a year later, he turns up with what I've been talking about in one guitar. Which I took to France and totally wrecked. Pete: Well, you played it pretty hard, didn't you? John: Oh yeah, I remember biting it once. Because I loved it. Out of respect if you ask me. Pete: So yeah, John, you're a free spirit, and you've always survived on the road now for as long as I've known you, and some considerable time prior to that. So perhaps the equipment that you use isn't necessarily the equipment of your choice. What sort of sound do you favour though, and how do you achieve it? John: I quite like stereo sound, you know? I've always been infatuated with good stereo sound. Especially because I work, apart from the fact that I work a lot on my own at the moment. The most is three instruments, bass, me on guitar, and a drummer. So the sound's got to be full. If the guitar's got the stereo sound ... Pete: That's a good point. John: ... it fills out. It's very important, actually. And I work with Peavey gear which is getting better now, but it's let me down a few times. Because it gets knocked about. I'm rough with amplifiers. What can you do? It's got to be hauled about, and it falls down now and again. Pete: Why Peavey gear in particular? Or is that just the way it's gone? John: It's a reasonable price. Always has been. Pete: Valves or solid state, or what? John: Valves. I work at the moment through a Peavey Classic. When I cannot take that with me, as in this particular little set of gigs we're doing, because the car broke down, I work with a simple Peavey Rockmaster, which has got three sounds, clean, crunch and lead. Which you can create what sounds you want, and it's all on one pedal. I don't like having too many foot pedals. Pete: You don't really use a lot. I've seen people like Lou Reed for instance in front of an array of pedals. You don't really use that many, do you? John: I've got a compressor, a Boss compressor, which is good for levelling ... Pete: ... everything out. John: Levelling things out. And it's quite nice, especially on an acoustic guitar. It sustains notes. Because they still haven't perfected, really, although I think they're getting somewhere near it now, the Takamine's pretty good. But they haven't perfected the sound of an acoustic guitar. Not without having amazing microphones. And microphones in front of the guitar - I'm not talking about pickups, you have to have microphones. That's the best way really. But microphones in front of the guitar are very - what's the word, obstructive? You can't move, you've got to stay in one position. So you live with what you've got. And I find the compressor enables me to be freer with what I'm doing. Pete: That's the Takamine, isn't it, the acoustic you play. Which is the model, the Takamine one? John: No idea. Just a Takamine mid-range instrument. Which I bought in the French Alps when I was doing a gig up there. Up until then it was the Eko. But I heard a couple of guys play on Takamines when I was up there, went down and bought one. Of course that's a very difficult life is that, is working in the French Alps, very hard. Then of course the two best albums I ever played was when I came away from the Alps, because you play so hard that you become quite fit, playing-wise. Pete: Also you were writing so much then. When did you start writing? John: I've been writing songs since I was seventeen, eighteen. They've got the same way of being created that they ever have, they just pop up. Out of the blue. I don't really work on songs very much at all, they just come naturally or they don't. Pete: There was a time you were in York, weren't you, there's tunes that we're still playing now that you wrote then. What was the band then? That was the Gothic sort of outfit, punk-Gothic outfit. John: Oh yeah, you're talking about The Sweet Things. Not really punk though. I did play in a psycho-something or other, punky sort of band, called Hank Throbber and the Lemon - no, the Thrush Bandits, I think it was. Just a fun band. They didn't last very long, it was a bit of a noise, that. But The Sweet Things were great. It definitely had something. We used to just go into the studio and play - not a recording studio, but a practice studio, rehearsal rooms if you like. Go in, and then three hours later come out. Non-stop, just hammering out rhythms, and letting the formation take its own course. Good people. Pete: That was early 80s, would it be? John: Steve on vocals and rhythm and lead guitar, Chris on drums. Pete: That's Chris Walton who works down Fibbers now, yeah? John: I just can't bring the name of the bass player to me ..... my mind is just, he was a very good bass player. Pete: Yeah, I remember the guy, can't remember his name. John: Lovely, really nice people. They first presented me with a Robin Hitchcock album, I remember that. Pete: I do recall when we first met up, there were people like Robin Hitchcock.....people that you seemed to have some respect for, which were not necessarily mainstream? John: I like Julian Cope as well. Ah, look at that UFO, sitting on top of Blakey Ridge. Pete: So what are your plans right now? What do you want to achieve? Have you got anything in mind? John: This is difficult isn't it, this is the million dollar question, isn't it. I just want to be happy. And not make as many people ... well, try not to make people miserable. I quite like making people happy. But before that I enjoy making myself happy. And that usually involves playing, constructing. I mean it's you that does the constructing isn't it, as far as the band's concerned. Gigs. It's true that ... I haven't got any goals, really. I just like playing. Obviously, I'd love to earn some good money at some stage. But, just keep at it. Which we do. Pete: When you were on BBC Radio North last week, it was a programme about the guitar greats. Dr Rock ran it, and he asked a question which I thought was quite an interesting one, which was: does it frustrate you that, I mean you are recognised as being an absolute top guitarist, someone who can sit next to anyone. And yet a long of these guys have made serious dosh. I know you don't feel resentful about it, but does that concern you, does that worry you, does that frustrate you, or what? John: I don't know. I'd like to have a bit of money, if you like, but then again there's a lot of people who deserve it more than me. There are not just musicians in this world. A lot of good people doing essential good things. Sorry, I'm trying to get in there, without breaking anything. Pete: Okay, well we'll just leave it there. Perhaps some other time when you've got some time - you've got to go back to France tomorrow, you're heading right down the other end of country tomorrow. If you were asking yourself these questions, what question would you ask? John: I haven't got any questions, really. You know me, don't you? I just drift around, trying to do my best. Pete: Okay. Let's go and have some fish and chips.
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