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NOW IS THE WINTER
It was 3.30 in the
afternoon and we were sitting in the Prince of Wales. We almost
always go to the Prince on a Sunday, albeit not at 3.30 in the
afternoon. We got there early on this particular Sunday for a
reason - we were awaiting a telephone call. From our manager. Who
was at the offices of a record company. Awaiting a telephone call.
Telling him whether or not we were at number one. In the pop
singles chart.
It was an unlikely story. We'd sent a copy of our latest CD - our
ninth studio album - to practically every record company, A &
R man, radio station and independent producer in Europe. We'd
received just a single acknowledgment - from one Günter
Heriedlemen, a German DJ who remixed songs by Depeche Mode and
the like and had a small following on the continent. He appeared
to have taken leave of his senses and decided that he wanted to
remix one of our tracks - "Incubator" - and include it
on a dance compilation he was putting together for the summer.
Um, we thought. Oh alright then. We actually sent Mark our
manager over to Munich to negotiate a contract. We were offered a
lump sum of £50,000 or a royalties based package. We were pretty
tempted by the lump sum - £12,500 each in spondoolies straight
into our back pockets. But, thank goodness, we played the
percentage game.
The track got a bit of airplay in mainland Europe, and remarkably
a club in Ibiza - the Laguna - gave it a couple of spins. Günter
had made it sound pretty fresh, and as no-one had any idea who
was behind the original recording it started to pick up a bit of
a following. When returning holidaymakers started looking for it
in England, Virgin pricked up their ears and before long we'd
signed a distribution deal with them. Bang - it got onto most
national pop radio stations' A list (for one week and one week
only, so they all made a point of telling us), we did a video
which none of us appeared in, and then it was released.
Two days after its release, and with the four of us sort of
hoping we'd scrape into the top 100 so we could honestly say we'd
been in the pop charts, we received some pretty amazing news. The
early figures had us at number 4, and the three records above us
were expected to tail off quicker than we did as they were by
established artists whose first week sales were usually
concentrated into the Monday and Tuesday.
The record company had been struggling for weeks to decide
whether to play the novelty band card and reveal that we were in
fact in our late 30's and early 40's and had respectable jobs.
They decided to wait and see what happened when the single was
released, which spared us the treadmill of TV and radio
appearances usually required to push us up the charts but, so we
thought, reduced our chances of getting anything other than a
minor hit.
It seemed however that this policy of secrecy had created a
curiosity that was working in our favour. The fact that no-one
knew who we were increased the public's interest in us and, more
importantly, our record. By the Thursday it was a two horse race
for the number one spot - between us and Eminem, who had released
the third single off his latest album (had it been the first
single off the album he would have wiped the floor with us, so to
speak). It was going to be close.
And so we sat there. We knew the next week was going to be like
no other week any of us had experienced before whatever happened
now as we were scheduled to make our first TV appearance on
Channel 4 the following morning, which would break the story of
who - what, we supposed - we really were. So we were nervous
enough, in that "excited but a bit daunted" sort of way.
The London Pride was helping, but not much.
3.40. We knew the count usually took until shortly before the
Radio 1 chart programme went on air. We therefore knew that we
definitely had less than 20 minutes to wait. Mark had promised
not to beat around the bush when he called - he would simply tell
us what number we were at.
3.45. My phone beeped and everyone's heart missed a beat (well,
not everyone's obviously, but at least four hearts developed a
temporary irregularity). It was a text from Robert, my brother in
law, and brother of our keyboard player Louise (who you may have
deduced is my wife), to say he was on his way. I almost dropped
the phone twice from shaking just opening his message.
And then, and then, the moment that none of us will ever forget.
My phone went off again, but this time it was a call. And we knew
it was from Mark, as he had his own ringtone. And "Mark Mob"
(short for "mobile", not his surname) came up on the
LCD screen. I answered. "Number one". Number one.
We were number one. In the pop record charts. A solicitor, a
teacher, an IT manager and a paramedic were number one in the UK
singles chart. We'd had more number ones than the Who. We'd sold
more singles in the UK in the last week than any other act on
Earth. Or elsewhere, for that matter. We were, so to speak, top
of the pops. Yes. the singles chart may have had its day, it may
have been an overblown, overhyped, teen-act dominated
irrelevance, but we were top of it. Now is the Winter were number
one.
Of course, what you've just read never actually happened. Because
for all the bands that make it to number one, there are thousands
who never even make it to number 100, who never get a sniff of a
record deal, who plug away for year after year for the love of it
and go to work in an office or on a building site or in a bank on
a Monday morning. Of those, perhaps two a decade do a
Chumbawumba, get caught up in an unexpected whirlwind and make a
brief and stellar appearance in public life before disappearing
from view just as quickly. But even they have to have something
about them that sets them apart from the hundreds and thousands
of acts that toil away in the pubs and clubs around the country.
And the bands that only get onto the pub circuit have to be
pretty damned tight.
Now is the Winter are none of these. They're never going to make
it. They've played in a pub twice, both times in an upstairs room
they'd hired. Their biggest ever audience was about a hundred.
Their best selling recorded release sold 50 copies. But, for
reasons even they find it hard to explain, they still try.
There are plenty of accounts of the history of the bands that
reach the top of the tree. What follows here is a brief history
of a band that never got off the ground.
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