A little opus. Twenty years in the making. A play to begin with. All songs within it written. A musical in its way. This little tale about "Deano Jones And The Obscure Rogues" now out as an ebook ...
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07L8JM611
1. Preview Chapter from beginning of ebook
2. Links to musical numbers from book written by Alan Ewing
PREVIEW CHAPTER
IN THE BEGINNING
Chapter 1
Suburbia
In the beginning was suburbia. And suburbia produces many surprising results. As the sun beat down on Westgrove Avenue, on the outskirts of the city of Poolchester, hedges were being trimmed and lawns being mowed. It was an everyday scene no doubt being played out a million times around The English Land. But the scene being played out in the living room at 32 Westgrove Avenue was one of the more unusual of suburbia’s outpourings. A stereo in the corner of the room was playing “Should I Stay Or Should I Go” by The Clash. Sitting in armchairs listening to this were Deano Jones and Billy The Bass.
“I don’t know what I’d do if fame came my way. I think I’d just sit around all day eating bacon barm cakes. Mind you, that’s all I do now”, said Deano. He sat dressed in his usual jeans and tee shirt with slogan; his whole look reminiscent of James Dean, only with Deano having dark hair. The regulation leather jacket was hanging up in the hall. This was a young man, twenty-one years of age, who knew what he liked.
“I know what you mean Deano. There’s nothing quite like a barm cake wrapped around bacon with lashings of brown sauce. Who’d want to give that up for champagne and caviar?” The reply came from Billy The Bass, otherwise known as William Brevvers, but he felt that attaching his name to his instrument was a good thing. He had blonde wavy hair but was dressed like Deano in neo-fifties garb.
“Yeah, I know; imagine not being able to run down to the chippy because you might get pestered if you go out. I don’t really think that I’d like that. I’m too set in my ways.
Just think of it Billy lad, you’d have to be up at six in the morning to be able to take a
walk in peace”. Deano’s reply was sincere. Here sat a person who sought expression through his music, not fame, although infamy had its appeal.
“Six in the morning! You must be joking. I don’t even know what that time of the day looks like. I’ve got out of bed at six in the evening a few times though”, laughed Billy.
This prompted Deano to suggest a song title, “I Lost My Heart To A Bacon Barm Cake” at which the two friends and musical colleagues let out peals of laughter.
“All this talk about food is making me hungry. A good one for the band though; you need odd song titles with a name like The Obscure Rogues”, said Billy, for such was the name of the music combo to which they both belonged.
“Yeah, and it would probably be a big hit, meaning that we’d end up in a situation where we were not supposed to eat that sort of thing”.
“Shall I open the bread bin?” Asked Billy
But before Deano could answer, the living room door flew open and in walked Mrs Jones, Deano’s mother, the daughter of Desmond and Molly Jones –a name she had kept after marriage and given to her son as she couldn’t bear to part with it—Gloria Jones was a young looking woman, somewhere in her thirties, with dark hair and grey-green eyes, not unlike her son in looks and appearance. The big difference between them lay in interpretation of the work ethic. For Deano it meant music, but for his mother it was a case of being realistic, in taking what was available to earn money in order to get on.
“ Oh, hello Billy. I didn’t realise you were here. How are your mum and dad?” Gloria Jones always believed in politeness when opening dialogue.
“Fine thanks Mrs Jones”, came Billy’s response.
“Have you two been down to the Jobcentre this morning? Didn’t you have one of
those Restart interviews to attend Dean?”
“That’s on Thursday mum. Billy and me were just discussing eating habits in relation to certain types of career”.
“You won’t find a job by sitting around all day. It’s about time you pulled yourself together Dean. At twenty-one you should be holding down a regular job”.
“I think it would be best if I sorted it out myself mum”.
“That’s all very well for you to say Dean. I’m the one who has to put up with all this, you know. I think that you are being very selfish. And what about Samantha? She’s a lovely girl and you’re lucky to have her. So what are you going to do about it?”
The reference here was to Deano’s girlfriend of some standing, Samantha Burrows; a young lady with reddish-brown hair with green tints and highlights, coupled with deep green eyes. Mrs Jones would usually play this card when wanting to remind Deano of responsibilities. Her motivation for these exchanges was simply the fact that she wanted Deano to succeed in life. She didn’t disapprove of his music, but felt that it was not a reliable basis for a lifetime’s career and economic need.
“Okay mum, we’ve been through this before”, cut back Deano.
“Yes, and we’ll go through it again and again until you pull your socks up, my lad”, and Mrs Jones meant what she said. Having decided that the exchange could no longer be productive, she took her leave of the room.
“Phew! She didn’t seem very happy”, said Billy who had sat rather sheepishly through the proceedings.
“Yeah, the bugbear of all musicians”, responded Deano, “the pressures from family to take a steady job. And with Dad on leave at the moment, I’m getting an overdose of earache. I can’t see there being anything at the Jobcentre for the likes of me. Last time I went, the only jobs on offer were at that dump of a hamper factory down-town. You’d end up in depression working in a place like that. But that’s mum all over when she takes the mood. She thinks that I should just go out and take the first thing that appears; she has no understanding of the way I am”.
Deano sighed. He knew that when the worlds of suburbia and rock n’ roll collided then fireworks would ensue.
“Maybe it’s about time that I got myself a flat or something. Never mind not getting peace when you make it: I’m getting none now! I suppose I’d better go and mow the lawn or one of those other jobs I said I’d do. It really is too much”, he continued.
Billy shifted awkwardly in his armchair; he did not really know how to approach the internal domestic conflicts of the Jones family.
“I know. It’s not too much to ask for. A quiet life I mean”, he managed to meander out.
The stereo in the corner had for some time been in a state of silence. Deano’s thoughts turned towards it and away from suburban lawns. He had, prior to his mother’s entrance, been indulging in a punk/new wave CD session. He clicked on the stereo remote control for the Ian Dury and the Blockheads track “What A Waste”. This seemed an apt reflection on the world of Westgrove Avenue and the status of the musician within it.
Musical links
Musical numbers for the ebook were recorded as Aylon (Alan Ewing) and are available online: click on links for audi ...
Gloria Told Me
https://alanewing.bandcamp.com/track/gloria-told-me
Bernadette's Maisonette
https://alanewing.bandcamp.com/track/bernadettes-maisonette
Coming To Get You
https://alanewing.bandcamp.com/track/coming-to-get-you
Storm Clouds
https://alanewing.bandcamp.com/track/storm-clouds
Mine, Not Yours
https://alanewing.bandcamp.com/track/mine-not-yours
Jolly Hockey Sticks
https://alanewing.bandcamp.com/track/jolly-hockey-sticks
Immortal
https://alanewing.bandcamp.com/track/immortal
The Obscure Rogues Experimental work, recording demonstrations by Alan Ewing
I Lost My Heart To A Bacon Barm Cake (Parts 1.2.3)/The Train To Fame/Busking For Love In The Big Apple/The Poolchester Anthem/I Asked For A Bacon Toastie/The Best Names Are Never Dropped
http://aylon1.bandcamp.com/album/the-obscure-rogues-experimental-work
