Known acts:
Lived just up the road, and saw lots of groups there. Was there on that September night in 1964 when Tommy Quickly played.
He promised to kiss the first girl who came on stage with a guy's sock, and my friend pushed her boyfriend to the floor, pulled one of his socks off, and rushed to claim her kiss!
Also, saw Herman's Hermits lots of times - even before they were famous, as well as The Searchers, Freddie & the Dreamers, etc.
Joe Pullen owned it at the time, and later a guy I went to school with, Roy Mozley, bought it and older acts were booked, like Shirley Bassey and Tom Jones. Those were the days!!!
Barbara Elford
I played in the Majestic's resident band, 'The Norman Clare Big Beat Band' (they don't have names as good as that anymore) in 1963 or 64.
It was a ten piece (or sometimes less if Joe Pullen, the owner of the Majestic and noted dry cleaning tycoon, was having an economy drive) and a fairly typical Palais band. Norman was a nice guy, an instrument repairer by day, who sometimes played tenor sax but who mostly pretended to conduct, not that the band would take any notice of anything that Norman did or said.
The line up usually included Bryant Trafford and sometimes Denis Range on alto saxes(Bryant worked in Stock and Chapman), Geoff Logue on tenor, Bernie Brown on baritone, yours truly on guitar and a guy called Cyril Hewitt on drums who used to pass a 'black spot' (see 'Treasure Island') to anyone who played a bum note, which was usually me.
You know that joke - 'How do you get a guitarist to turn the volume down? Stick a piece of music in front of him!', well they wrote th at about me.
I had a featured number called 'In a Persian Market Twist' (honestly, that's what it was called) and every time I played it I got the same bit wrong. It got to the point where when the number was called, all the guys in the band would turn round and stare at me, waiting for me to get it wrong. Consequently I had no chance of ever getting it right and I was ankle deep in black spots.
We had a singer called Vic who was on a permanent audition - he never got paid. It was always a case of 'Mr. Pullen can't decide whether or not we need a singer'' and of course as long as Vic was prepared to turn up and sing for nothing, Mr. Pullen wasn't going to make his mind up.
Vic was always immaculately turned out in a tux, but he was a coal man by day and he would drive to the Majestic in his coal wagon. Bizarre. He had a nice voice but he never knew when to come in at the start of a song so Geoff Logue, who used to be sat right behind him, was deputised to prompt him with the aid of a drumstick.
There was an oblong trapdoor in the stage at the Majestic right where the saxophone section sat. It was supported by hydraulic rams which, during the course of the evening, would leak oil, gently lowering the sax section into the nether regions below the stage. It was a very small stage and there wasn't much room between the front of the stage and the sax section's music stands. Norman used to walk up and down this narrow strip pretending to conduct and, of course, one night he fell off. It was about a five foot drop but brave little Norman, pretending not to be hurt, climbed back on with a sickly grin amidst rousing cheers from the dancers - and the band. I actually heard Joe Pullen say to Norman, 'That was really funny Norman, you should do it every night!' Even poor old Norman, usually ready to do anything to please Joe Pullen, had to refuse.
It was hard graft, four hours with only a very short break that seemed to get shorter every week ('Mr. Pullen thinks we're taking too long for our breaks lads') and the pay was crap. It was supposed to be a Musicians Union gig but we couldn't complain to the Union about the money because the Union secretary played trumpet in the the band and he was on the same deal as the rest of us - or so he said.
Pete Crooks
13/3/09
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