Finding The First Copy
It was sad to hear of the passing of Tony Middleton this week. It immediately brought back memories of our first Cleethorpes weekender in 1993. Here’s a photo of that trip and the sleevenotes reminscence from the Cleethorpes CD. L to R Tony, Brad Comer, me, Mary Love on the fire escape at Ace Records, Harlesden.
“There’s nothing like meeting and striking up a relationship with an act to get their full co-operation. I was given Tony Middleton’s number by soul sleuth Andy Rix, and was keen to get him on the first Cleethorpes Northern Soul weekender show as he was quite unknown as a live artist back then. He had a very strong Northern Soul recording history that would sound great live and hopefully draw in the customers. I was due to visit the States on a record-buying mission about six months before the show and arranged to meet up with Tony in a rather swanky Swedish restaurant that he had picked out. I immediately felt out of my depth when he turned up in a sharp suit and a leggy Swedish blonde, who evidently owned and hosted the joint, came up and greeted him as a personal friend.
The prices didn’t make me feel any more at ease and the conversation was rather one-sided with Tony regaling me with all his achievements as a singer, actor and general man of the world. We got on well though and I think I probably upped my meagre offer for his fee just to save face: I really didn’t think he would go for it. However, he kindly said he would perform at our inaugural event because he liked me and it would be fun, even if the money was below his usual radar. I was extremely grateful and having got his word was happy to pay the sizeable bill and even throw in a tip to the Greta Garbo figure.
When Tony arrived in England, he was an easy-going and down to earth fellow who spent a memorable night out with myself, soul fan and DJ Val Palmer and a very colourful American punk rocker called Mike Spencer from the Cannibals group, who Tony teased by telling him that his Harlem gang used to kick Mike’s hoodlum friends’ asses all around Central Park.
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