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J
P SUNSHINE SUPER-ZAP THEM ALL WITH LOVE
(That's
still the hippie slogan. And they mean you)
This
is the story of J.P. Sunshine, from the heady days when every day
was a trip in itself, when barriers were dissolving through the long
summer of 1967. This is a
story, hidden till now, that played almost unnoticed amongst all the hip
scenes that were going down; The Roundhouse, Middle Earth, protests
against the war in Vietnam. Psychedelia in the form of The Jimi Hendrix
Experience, The Beatles at Apple.. Who'll ever know just how many good
groups there have heen, who never -played any gigs, hut just had their
own groovy self contained scenes going on; or, like Rod and Andy in J.P.
Sunshine, played in the group as a hobby away from playing in
professional groups.
J.P.Sunshine were J.P. aka Georgie Porgie, aka Jorj, aka George Duffell,
poet, lyricist, bongo and xylophone player; Rod Goodway, tunesmith,
arranger, rhythm guitarist and singer; Andy Rickell on backing vocals
and lead guitar; Adrian Shaw on acoustic guitar and bass; Pat Morphin on
percussion and Pete Biles on second bongos.
This
was a band who really should have been on Elektra (the hippest
label of the ‘60s). Theirs was a sound tied in directly with
flower power, with recurring images of sunshine, sun and moon, tripping,
eyes and skies; all syrup and sweet sugar, but that merely conceals a
much sharper edge. Seen from a distance of twenty years, you can see as
the songs progress from flower power, slowly turning sour.
The
tape which was lost for years turned up under strange circumstances two
years ago and is available on Acid Tapes. Here you can hear a very
English distillation of the sounds that were coming across from the west
coast of America. You find echoes of Jefferson Airplane's "White
Rabbit", the Spanishy feel of that and chords that ring like the
chords on Love's "Da Capo" album and Andy Rickell's lead
guitar is at times beautifully reminiscent of Lee Underwood's playing
with Tim Buckley with the added similarity of the bongos, and "Dark
Star" brings to mind Jolliver Arkansaw's "Hatred Sun".
But it's not a music of plundered influences, because all the elements
pull together as J.P. Sunshine music.
In
the next couple of issues of Unhinged there'll be a lot more of Rod
Goodway's 26 years making rock music, but to my mind the songs with J.P.
Sunshine have the best vocal performances that he ever recorded; when
his voice was at its
strongest and he sang with a simple uncluttered full voice. Since then
his technical ability has
been as much of a barrier as it has been an advantage. Stranger still is
the way that here Rod was singing George's words (like Doug Yule in the
Velvet Underground), being George's voice singing without realising at
the time how exactly the words were describing the activities that were
going on under the surface in the group. The story is best told from now
on in Rod's words.
"Before
and up to September 1967, I'd always had dreams of stardom, wealth, etc.
at some stage in my musical career and every piece of music that I'd
ever performed, apart from the very early days, had been done on a
professional basis. I hadn't spent much time sitting round in bedrooms
playing just for the fun of it. But, in 1967, the times they were a
changing, the whole attitude was different. Before I ever took LSD, I
dropped out of my formal education and straight career that my parents
had wanted for me. In '67 you just wanted to be with people who felt the
same as you did; just sit in a park with them and sing for free. There
were drugs, sure; but that was nothing new. Back in Calne there'd be
plenty of dope smoking and Purple Hearts, as well as opiates in the form
of Dr. Collis Brown's
Chlorodine cough linctus, which was very strong in those days, legal,
but equivalent to heroin if you took enough of it. Whereas now you buy
what purports to be the same stuff (if you're foolish enough) and take a
couple of tablespoons as the stated dose. In ‘65
or
'66,the stated dose was one or two DROPS, so today's stated dose is a
volume that could have killed someone with the potency it had back then.
No, in '67 there was something very, very different, it felt like
something special was going to happen. Certainly people, anyone prepared
to drop out of the rat race and just come together was going to behold
the most amazing things, like the second coming of Christ or like
meeting up with extra-terrestrials, something I just felt it in my bones
and so did a lot of people."
"My
fiancée, Julia, had been left behind in Wiltshire to join me in say six
months when I'd become rich and famous, in get rich quick swinging
London. When she didn't hear from me, I guess she feared the worst and
one night she turned up with suitcases. She couldn't stay with us, our
landlady was sub-letting anyway. Within a couple of days, she found a
bedsit in Swiss Cottage, where there was a nice friendly girl called Pat
Morphin on the ground floor, who soon introduced me to her boyfriend,
George Duffell. He asked me if I could put music to his poetry and it wasn't long before he came over to Hyde Park
Mansions with some of his ramblings.
I put some chords to them and they were songs on the spot. Simple, but
it flowed and George was really chuffed."
"The visits to George and Pat's place became more and more regular
and this was when I met
Adrian and Maureen Shaw. He was a corona salesman with no musical
experience, but he loved music and he started to play along with the
songs on a battered 6 string guitar. Each time I visited, we'd have a
few smokes and listen to George's latest records, mainly American
imports from Captain Beefheart, Country Joe & The Fish, to more
obscure groups like H.P.Lovecraft and The Thirteenth Floor Elevators.
Always the coolest stuff, though they all seemed pretty obscure at the
time; but Love, Jefferson Airplane, The Doors, you can hear all their
influences in J.P. Sunshine. After turning on to these songs we'd play
our own with Ade and I on guitars, George would play bongos and
xylophone with a permanent grin on his
face, Pat would play knitting needles on a tin lid and Pete Biles
would play second bongos."
"Around this time Pete Biles and I set about finding Andy Rickell, who had
been missing since the break up of the Pack. Nobody had heard from him
for months. We eventually tracked him down to a hovel near Clapham
Common and after hearing a load of wild tales about screwy landlords,
black magic and other babblings, we kidnapped him and gained another
lodger (four of us living in one tiny attic in Bayswater after we'd been
chucked out of Hyde Park Mansions)."
"It was recorded on an ordinary 2 track. It had a sound on sound
facility, but very little was put on top because you could only do
two extra tracks before the sound went, so we were basically
recording live rather than bouncing tracks. It was all acoustic at
first; Ade and I would be playing 6 strings and the others played the
o1d bongos or tapped knitting needles for ages until Andy came along and
that was when it started to go electric."
"J.P.Sunshine" was one of the first songs, if not the first,
September 1967, though the actual recordings weren't done till a year
later, when we laid down the final session. There were lots of takes
through the year leading up to that one main session. The lyrics of this
were George's little ego trip. He was riding high then, "J.P.Sunshine
is mine and thine", like he was J.P. and he was saying like you can
have part of me as well if you're lucky. "J.P. Sunshine shine on me
and thee I From light are we spun". Yeah, we were all little rays
of sunshine, but definitely around him and he definitely held court. As
a group of people he had the nicest possible power over us. On this
track Andy's guitar really jumps out because it was one of the
first ones that he put down and he wanted to show how flash he could be
to get accepted by everybody else. We were eager for him to like
Electric Music for the Mind and Body, we thought that was great, but he
was probably a little shy of overdoing it, as he did (ha, ha) in later
years.
"Hey Girl", that was the second one we did, it's mainly just
me and Ade banging away, Andy's hardly there, a few "moo
Moo's", harmony and a couple of bits you'd hardly know were
electric. This one was about
getting high, his first trips
with Pat and declaring his love
for her. "Hey girl! We're getting high , in the sky , so am I
look at me flying high when I try."
"Hand in Hand" was definitely a trippy song as well. About a
good trip they had, but he had this dream
afterwards where they were in the countryside, even though they'd had
the trip in the flat. And they were walking and walking forever through
these fields and looking at each other and noticing wrinkles appearing.
There were years going past, but they were always walking through the
same fields forever; on a beautiful summer's day; birds singing in the
trees; forever summer, but with this
fear of getting older. This thing
of "More like a year than half a day", which sums up tripping
really. Everything you've thought on that trip and experiences and the
amount of time that's elapsed in your brain IS more like a year than
half a day.
The exploding 'p's' of "Octopus" will haunt me forever. There
was no way we could record that without the microphone picking up a pop
on the 'p's'. George is all over that on bongos, Pat on tambourine and
Andy does a very Jefferson Airplane solo like "Spayre Change".
It was one of the earliest songs again, not a specific trip, just a
freaky idea. He realised that an octopus wasn't a crustacean, but
"crustaceous cutie" sounded too good to cut it out. It was
just about a girl with her hands all over you.
"Love
Scene" is just a blues in Am and Em; it's very effective and you
wouldn't think that it's just a 12 bar in the minor. The long fadeout
with Pat playing knitting needles on a biscuit tin was supposed to be a
ticking away, a nice timey sound. It was more about the flower power
kind of love to start with, but Pat kind of got wrote into it. He
started "Love scene could've been for real" about flower
power, the "All you Need is Love" thing, that feeling that
really WAS genuinely around, but he began to think "Christ! This is ironic and adapted it. The whole scene round at his
flat could've been for real, but it was getting physical in
another quarter. I'm not sure that it was when he wrote it, but it
certainly was by the time it was recorded. I love that line, "I die
/
you
sigh /
big
deal". It sums up both really. It was one of the earlier ones
musically, I'd tried out the tune with some of his other words, but it ended up here. The original intro was a bit
boring, just a conventional piece of lead guitar. So I literally cut it
off and turned the tape around and stuck it back on, so it's a miracle
that it comes in right.
"This
Side Up", that's one of the very first that I wrote with
George, and not changed at all, except for Andy's sped up blues on the
end. That was physically cut off and sped up and recorded onto another
tape. You couldn't just turn a knob to alter the speed like you can
today. There's a lot of symbolism there, but it's basically, 'How to
Fuck on Acid' by Georgie Porgie. The shuddering stop was done by
slamming my hand on the tape ~ and then off and on till it stopped.
At
the time, we thought that "Nothing There But Your Hair" was a
nice song, but a little scbmucky. There are some pretty trippy things in
it like "Come to me, colour wonder," "Come down /
the
rainbow /
to
me," and the line about "slipping under", but it shows
his insecurity with Pat. He'd
got to that point in his life
where everything was coming together, like the flat was paid for, but
then he says "Now everything's there /
you
don't care." Pat was unhappy with George. There wasn't anything
happening yet, it was just his feeling
of insecurity, you know, suspicions and he was taking a lot of
methedrine at the time. In the end Andy was actually staying there, like
spending nights there, weird stuff, very weird. We tended to take the
first line of the song as the title, so this
could also get called "Watch Out! We're Drifting
Apart".
The
order the songs were written in was "J.P.Sunshine", "Hey
Girl!", "This Side
Up", "Hand in Hand", and then "Octopus" and, if
it had then gone "Nothing There But Your Hair" and gone on
getting gloomier and gloomier, it would
have been too honest for George, and too damn obvious. So, he
started to juggle the order of the songs and tracks like "This
Side Up" were shoved later on, so you'd have some bouncy,
happy stuff there, "Post my thoughts off any place /
This
side up",
This
one sounded really morbid and corny to me at the time, I mean, "My
Eyes Are Raining", but he was getting really desperate when he
wrote it, which was in April 1968. It wasn't out of a trip,
though he had a pretty trippy state of mind anyway, the guy was on a
permanent trip, he was never completely straight. Lines like "My
mind dissolves / It's falling apart" could've been from a trip, but
"I feel nothing / but this pain in my heart" is about
something a little more normal. I said to Andy at the time, 'It's OK,
but I’d prefer a bit more uptempo stuff.
I'm going to start writing it faster whatever he writes and
whatever the words are.' And Andy tells me for the first time that
things 1ook like they're going to start happening between him and Pat,
apart from all the other chemicals that were around and George was
getting on a bit of a downer. Also Andy was having a lot more to do with the music. He'd come along in February 1968, and we were
playing together in White Rabbit and so it was getting that I'd go on to
the next poem, setting it to music and Andy would take them and arrange
them.
"Dark
Star" now Andy wrote all of this music. He couldn't sing deep, so I
sang all the low bits and he sung high. The words are pretty obvious in
their meaning; "I saw a dark star passing'. That song was around
when George actually put it to Pat and she said "You'll have to
give me time", so he came up with "Swansong", which puts
the whole situation out in the open. "Now we are two / who were one
/ the moon was you / I the sun / make your mind up / make it soon / cos
this sun is lit by your moon
/ from my birth to my death soon". After a while of taking
methedrine your nerves are so scrambled by lack of sleep and George was
getting really morbid. It was obvious in "Swansong" that he'd
sussed what was going on, "There were two of us / now there are
three". George insisted that "Dark Star" and
"Swansong" went down in that order and, of course, none of us
had heard the Dead's song at that time.
After "Swansong" I took one of George's o1d songs so we could
have something up-tempo. That was "Rising Free", from the days
of good trips. . "I'm stoned rsing free / come on now catch up with
me", from when George WAS J.P.Sunshine. We put that silly guitar on
it, that dank a dank, kadank dsnk dank, that funky sound, which we
turned psychedelic and got a sort of psychedehc funk.
Things were getting so desperate that you'd go round and Andy would be
there and George wouldn't. One time we all piled into the room sat
around waiting for George to get back. We started jamming and playing
this bluesy thing. We were
just getting into this when
George came in and sat down, bongos between his
knees, glasses down on his nose
and he started to play. I said 'What's happening?' He said (through his
nose), 'We're recording.' I asked him for some words and he just
said very abruptly, 'Haven't got any!' You can imagine the vibes, very
manic and electric and I just made up words as I went along and that was
"Dirt Blues".
"Just prior to the whole scene blowing sky high, Pink Floyd's
manager listened to the tape and thought it was very good, but suggested
that nobody would take it seriously without a drum kit and a proper drum
sound. But we were too far down by then; I don't know if George could
have financed that kind of trip and it would have meant going right back
to the beginning again, so it stayed the way it is."
I think that musically the whole scene could just about have held
together had it not been for events that happened just before Christmas
1968. We had become unaware that the so- called Mansion apartments in
which J.P.Sunshine got together & recorded music, had been under
observation by the drugs squad. When I took a suitcase (containing
certain herbal remedies) on the train down to Swindon, I was to meet a
chap at the other end & shake hands with him. All went as planned
until we actually shook hands, then someone yelled "Stop,
police" and I was nicked. I didn't want to land any of my pals in
trouble, so obviously I didn't tell the friendly 'bobbies' anything, but
they already knew more about the goings- on in the town Mansions than I
did. Presumably, their London counterparts were already busting the old
place as they held me. Anyway, the upshot of it all was, that was
the end of that scene. But there was a very strange postscript to this
sorry tale: Apparently
there were about six pounds of this herbal delight, which all arrived
together in six separate bags. The two bags that I had were taken
completely randomly from the pile. There were amazing reports about the
efficacy of the contents of the other four bags, and yet, when the
contents of Rod's (randomly chosen) bags were analysed ..... they turned
out to contain nothing but curry powder & flour !! Too much monkey
business for ME to get involved in. Or (as I'm sure was suspected by ALL
concerned) did I make a switch ???
But that was the straw that
broke the camel's back and that was the end of J.P.Sunshine. I saw
George only one more time after that. He got in touch and named a meet
and we met again in a record store that had glassed in booths
where you could listen to music and so he asked to listen to some
particularly groovy sound of the times and it was all this
whispered out of the corner of our mouths conversation.
"What happened?"
We went down to Pye, or somewhere down in town and had them cut an
acetate of the master tape and we had a box for it with a sleeve that Pat drew. We must have left it with
George as a reward for all the time and money spent and he lost his
lady, he lost everything. I guess all that he was left with was that
acetate."
Before
Rod became involved in the J.P.Sunshine scene, George had already tried
a couple of other singer/guitarists to put music to his
words. First, there was a guy called Ian Watts, a Geordie guy,
who had been to Newcastle University with George and Pat. He was
followed by a guy called Phil. But nothing they did was recorded.
Strangely, the only photos of
J.P.Sunshine that do exist
are of these early lineups. |