"BOBBY WERRINS CD HANDBAG!"

Andrew Cleyndert, Spike Wells, Bobby Wellins and Mark Edwards find themselves in Japan

Let’s pick up the memoirs of my time with the wee Scottish maestro again.

The last “musing” which saluted him was: The year of the musician, would-be priest and rather-not-be lawyer. (The title of course referred to me, not Bobby!) Scroll back to August last year to catch up on that piece, in which I talked about the quartet which included Jonathan Gee and Chris Laurence.

Now it’s time to move on to the last great Wellins quartet in which I was involved.

I’m relying this time mainly on my memory being jogged by the collection of audio cassettes which I have been converting into CD-rs and a few commercially released CDs.

The first time I remember the regular personnel coming together of Bobby, MARK EDWARDS (pno), ANDY CLEYNDERT (bs) and me was in May 2003 on a gig at the Lewes Jazz Club which met in the Constitutional Club in the narrow High Street.

[I will always remember this venue as being the place where I saw the great Bill Le Sage for the very last time shortly before he died. Outside in the street after the gig, he was loading his electric piano into his car while I was carting the drums out to mine. “Doesn’t get any easier, does it, Spike!” was his valediction.]

When Bobby’s latest quartet had found its feet and blended as a unit after a few months, we made a record at Curtis Schwartz’s studio in Ardingly on 24th and 25th November 2003. This was issued on Brian Nott’s Jazzizit label (JITCD 0434) under the title FUN – and that’s exactly what it was - a marvellous session with a great repertoire including a mischievous version of The odd couple, a moving tribute to Pete Jacobson entitled Angel of the North, and a hilarious tune called Dunna Runna which picturess a miscreant escaping pursuit by a sharp accelerando at the end. At strategic points across the album, Mark dubs a very witty organ track on top of his piano playing.

One track which didn’t make it on to the CD is a stunning rendition by Bobby of Mel Torme’s Christmas song. (If you haven’t found it there already, you can hear this gem towards the end of the playlist of the “music” page.) At the top of the playlist are some new relevant items.

In February 2004, through the good offices of an Englishman who lived and worked in Japan and who was a Wellins fanatic, we got the chance to visit that incredible country.

We were booked to play at a small jazz festival in a beautiful town called Yatsugatake. Two and a half hours’ drive from Tokyo, this was up in the mountains and the view from our hotel bedrooms was magnificent.

The highest peak, Mount Ata is 9,511 feet tall. Legend has it that the Yaksugatake range was once higher than Mount Fuji and that the goddess of Fuji knocked it down in a jealous rage, sparing Ata and surrounding peaks which did not quite rival Fuji.

In the town itself, we discovered to our amazement (the place was pretty isolated) a world famous museum of pianolas, including one concert grand size machine which played rolls of Mozart sonatas and Chopin preludes!

The gig (we played three nights) was very well attended and received. The people were incredibly friendly. After the first set on the first night, an elderly lady approached Mark Edwards and announced “You break my heart”. Mark fumbled for an apology, thinking that our music had not lived up to her expectations but it turned out she was emotionally overwrought with enthusiasm………..

The promoter came on the p.a. between sets, extolling the virtues of what sounded like “Bobby Werrins CD handbag!”. I later asked a Japanese friend in Eastbourne what this “handbag” business was. Apparently, it was a word I had misheard which means “for sale”. Obvious , really.

I was able to eat cautiously (lovely omelettes and dumplings but no raw fish) at the hotel but on the second night, we were guests for a meal at the festival building. I didn’t realise it until too late but one dish contained abalone to which I am violently allergic. I just about lasted out feeling dizzy and nauseous on the drum stool to the end of the sign-off blues and then sprinted for the lavatory just in time.

When we got home “none the worse for our adventure”, local gigs continued during the year and in October we appeared at the Cork Jazz Festival in Ireland. More of that anon.