The Thundering ­Typhoons

The old mp3s in this post have been kicking around my hard-drives for decades. Have a listen, I think they are pretty great.

Fifteen years going on sixteen but I looked younger. I began to visit The Blue Anchor mainly to escape the fighting at the Youth Club. The Blue was an ancient pub established six centuries previously. The granite door lintels are high enough for your average medieaval bloke. Even as a youngster I had to duck my head in the doorway. My two older brothers vouched for me as long as I kept a low profile. Tony the bartender and eventually Sid the publican let me stay. I started off in the games room occaisonally playing on whatever old arcade machine Sid had installed. My brothers would sneak me the odd beer.

I had a Scottish friend, Peter, whose Dad was a Chief Petty Officer at the local Royal Naval Airbase, Culdrose. We fell out after I once mentioned I liked this new band called The Pogues. It wasn’t just the music it was political. Peter told me his Dad had told him he could not be mates with anyone who liked Irish music as they obviously supported the IRA. I begun to notice how some peoples opinions aligned very closely with The Daily Mail.

I forget the names of who began to organise the bands in The Skittle Alley. They had started before I was there. I am very grateful. We would squeeze past our fellow drinkers down the smooth worn granite slabs. Pint glasses pressed against the crook of the shoulder, to avoid spillage. The narrow alley led past the great brew tub of raw Spingo, the infamously reeking loos and hazy pot smokers, out into the wet night air. At the Skittle Alley door we would buy a pass to listen to the nights acts.

The Typhoons were just one of the many rough and ready mix of entertainers to grace that tiny stage. Anyone with (or without) a singing voice, musical talent, poem, joke or rant was welcomed to the stage. On good nights the goths, punks, hippies, fishermen and farmers all crowded in. Some nights were fun and some dismal. The evening always ended with a 1 hour walk home in the rain.

Nowadays the Blue Anchor has smartened up its act. It churns out Spingo which actually tastes quite good according to at least one London beer critic. The new owners bought the neighbouring property and expanded the beer garden to dwarf the Skittle Alley. I hope they still provide a venue for underage kids to dip their toes in good music and bad habits.

Thanks to Paul, Adam and all the people in all the pub bands.