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Fossdyke residents enjoyed the balmy summer days in the gardens or strolling along the beach. With a relaxed atmosphere following the Fossils performance, residents now went into the recreation room to hear them rehearse. Fossils had a hectic, but productive few weeks. The four old musicians arranged, rehearsed, and played their tunes, with eight original songs now in their repertoire. Under Charles’s musical tutelage and leadership, they had become a well-honed band. The evening practice sessions at the Wellow turned out to be beneficial for both them and Cosmo.
At first, perceived as a joke, their music now appealed to Cosmo’s regular customers, who, after listening to them rehearse, told their friends. Cosmo felt happy because Tuesday and Thursday nights in the Wellow were always quiet, but thanks to the Fossils, his weeknight trade exceeded his weekend takings.
Cosmo, always on the lookout for an opportunity to make money, arranged for his young disc jockey friend, Kipper, to make a compact disc of Fossils music. Kipper worked for a local music shop, so had the equipment and expertise at his disposal. With the Wellow’s lounge having good acoustics, Cosmo closed off the room and Kipper set up a makeshift recording studio.
Cosmo said he would cover the production costs, and they agreed to share any profits from sales, 40% for Cosmo, with 60% to share among the group and Kipper.
Both Charles and Wayne had been in recording studios before, but the methods they used now, with all the new technology at Kipper’s disposal, seemed far simpler. They recorded their original songs over the next few days and Kipper tweaked, equalized, cleaned up, and added a few musical effects that the band found suitable.
After finishing the final track, and as Kipper packed his equipment away, he looked at the four and asked, “What’s the album title?”
The four looked at one another and shrugged.
“We’d forgotten about that. We haven’t thought of one,” said Charles and chuckled.
“How about, Fossils, live at the Wellow?” said Steve and tittered.
“Boring” shouted Wayne, and the others agreed.
They pondered. Elvin chuckled and said. “Three sex machines and a J-cloth.”
Wayne, Charles, and Kipper sniggered. Steve glared at Elvin and growled, “Sex machines; in your dreams, Stanley.”
“Well, we can live in hope,” said Elvin, chuckling.
“That’s it... Hope!” announced Kipper.
The old men stared at Kipper and smiled.
“Sounds good,” said Wayne.
“I like it,” said Charles.
“Hope, it is then,” said Steve, looking at their empty glasses, “Well done Kipper. Now, where’s our drinks, we need a toast?”
Kipper spent a few days producing a demo disc, and once completed, they all met up in the Wellow function room one afternoon. Cosmo played the disc through the Wellow sound system. The old musicians looked astonished by the sound quality of the recording. Although they played the songs every day, they had never heard them from the audience’s perspective. They listened with wonder and pride at their album as it played several times throughout the afternoon, with Cosmo lubricating them with beer and whiskey. Kipper had a flair for computer design graphics, so designed a compact disc case cover that he showed them. They all agreed that it looked fantastic. Kipper told them he would have one hundred copies made for Saturday, so Cosmo could sell them over the weekend.
SATURDAY MORNING, KIPPER came to Fossdyke’s recreation room carrying a box of compact discs. Fossils stopped rehearsing and gathered around kipper as he opened the box and they saw the shiny plastic CD’s neatly stacked. Kipper took the cellophane wrapper off one, went over to the CD player under the TV, loaded the disc, and pressed play. They, along with a small crowd of Fossdyke residents listened. Melancholy ballads, soothing soft rock blues, and hard-hitting rock music filled the airwaves of the recreation room.
Kipper, already blown away by their music, looked excited and wanted to let a larger audience listen to this unique sound.
The old men each took a copy, admiring Kipper's handiwork on the glossy cover. They had made eight tracks for the album. The 46-minute recording included the ballads, ‘Vulnerable’ and ‘Cry Alone.’ For upbeat soft-tenor-rock, they had ‘Life is Too Short to Be Sad’ and ‘Song for the Traveller.’ They did an extended version of ‘Consider Me Gone,’ with two tenor-blues numbers, ‘Make the Pain Go Away’ and ‘Cold, Cold Steel,’ along with their hard-hitting rock song, ‘Rolling Thunder.’
Kipper fidgeted and unable to contain his excitement said, “I can put it on iTunes; it will go out to a worldwide audience. I know nothing about promotion or advertising, but I can learn, and then...”
“Hang on, young Kipper,” interrupted Steve. “We know nothing about this new stuff, and we don’t want to be known worldwide. We are too old for all that nonsense and just want to have fun in our old age.”
Kipper looked at the old men smiling back at him. He felt disappointed, as he knew this music would be a big hit and touch people’s souls. He sighed and said. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll take these to the Wellow and see you later.”
Cosmo sold the initial batch of CD’s within hours with customers wanting more and he, Fossils, and Kipper felt delighted.
Kipper made another 100 copies for the following week, which again sold out within hours.
As word spread, Fossils became a roaring success. The Wellow bustled with customers on the nights they rehearsed. Offers came in from other live music hostelries in the area, and even though they offered them money to play, the old men declined, as it meant lugging equipment around town. They were content to be only five minutes away from home, much to Cosmo’s relief. The old musicians had grown fond of Kipper and always sided with him when the tight-arsed Cosmo tried to rip him off.
Kipper was thirty-years-old. His actual name was Kevin Gascoigne Nutley, and he had performed as a D.J in venues around Grimsby and Cleethorpes since he was sixteen. With his nickname Kipper given to him at school because his football-mad family owned a herring smoking plant on Grimsby docks. Young Kevin helped with the business before he went to school, so his clothes always smelt of kippers. Although hating the nickname as a child, now known around the clubs and pubs as ‘D.J.Kipper’, it was something he felt proud of.
Kipper was tall, slim, and always impeccably turned out. He lathered himself in aftershave as the childhood memories of his kippery smell still haunted him. With short, well-groomed, gelled hair, he was popular amongst the ladies. His biggest problem was that he could not control his finances. He had tried his hand with a few ventures throughout the years that failed. Money seemed to burn a hole in his pocket, with him buying the latest records, designer clothing, and large American cars to keep up appearances. He had frittered away and wasted any money he’d earned and, although a good entertainer and a sociable character, creditors and loan sharks constantly pursued him. During the day, he worked in a large music shop in Grimsby, selling music equipment to local disc jockeys and bands around the North East Lincolnshire area. The work suited Kipper as he became knowledgeable in all aspects of the most up to date equipment, and on occasions borrowed the new gear. Kipper's job suited his lifestyle; he worked during the day in the shop, with weekends and occasional weeknights, working as a disc jockey. He worked most Saturday night’s at the Wellow as the DJ support for the live music, but after Fossils popularity grew, Cosmo added Tuesdays and Thursdays to his work schedule, keeping his techno whizz-kid close.
During the Christmas period, Fossdyke residents prepared for their usual celebrations, with the recreation room decorated with a large Christmas tree and trimmings. Steve and Wayne stayed at Fossdyke while Elvin and Charles went to spend the festive period with their respective families. Elvin stayed with Christine, his daughter, and her family. Charles went to stay with John’s family in his large house in Laceby, a rural village in North East Lincolnshire. The landscape around John’s house looked bleak with bare trees casting sinister shadows over the property.
On a cold Boxing Day afternoon, Charles received a phone call from a drunken Steve, and from the noise in the background, realised that he was calling from the Wellow.
“Merry Christmas Nobby,” slurred Steve.
“Merry Christmas, Steven,” Charles replied.
“Are you close to the radio?” Asked Steve.
Charles replied, “I have one in my room. I listen to radio four during the eve...”
“Well turn it on, and tune into BBC Radio Lincolnshire,” Steve interrupted.
“Why?” Charles asked.
“Listen to the programme at 4 o'clock,” Steve slurred, sounding aloof. “I have to call Chippers and Lucy and tell them to do the same. I'll call you back later.” Steve chuckled, said goodbye, and hung up.
Charles, intrigued, went up to his room and switched on the radio. It was 3:58 pm and the programme now broadcasting was about to finish. Charles poured himself a whiskey and sat on his bed.
At 4 o'clock, a disc jockey came on and announced his hour-long segment. ‘Search For Britain’s Next Super Group.’
The D.J. radio presenter explained about the competition, which had been running now for several days. Ten selected BBC radio stations from regions around the UK would play a track from unknown bands in their area. Each station would play one track per day at the same time over seven days. After which, they would play all the songs on a one-hour show and the listeners for that specific region would vote on a regional winner. The ten winning regional bands would compete against one another on BBC Radio One and judged by a panel of experts and then a nationwide vote would decide the winning band that would receive £20,000, plus a record deal with Virgin Records and BBC Radio.
Charles listened with interest as the programme’s presenter read out the details. ‘What has that got to do with us,’ he grinned, ‘Steve must have a crazy drunken notion about us entering a competition like this,’ he thought.
He chuckled to himself and drank his whiskey as the D.J. announced, “From the piles of entries; today’s choice is a four-piece band from Cleethorpes. I only received their entry yesterday and even though the submission for the contest closed last week, once I listened to the album, I had to include it... I think it’s phenomenal; see what you think.” He then paused as he prepared the CD and continued, “The album’s called Hope, and the track I chose to play is called ‘Consider Me Gone,’ ... And the group... Fossils.”
Charles coughed out his whisky and looked stunned as the introduction to, ' Consider Me Gone,' played on his radio.
Speechless, he wiped the whisky off his shirt, knocked back what was left in the glass, and listened as their song blasted out. “How is this possible?” he said aloud and sat in stunned silence until the record finished.
The D.J. gave the audience time to savour the moment, before announcing. “I HOPE that blew you away, the same as it did me when I first heard it.” He chuckled and reminded the listeners, “We still have two more bands to hear, and two days to go before voting started, but if you want to vote for Fossils, they are number five so...”
Charles didn’t listen to the presenter giving details on how to vote. He called Steve.
“Nobby!” Exclaimed Steve, “sounded great, didn’t we?”
“H... how did you get us into the contest, and why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Charles stammered.
“You can blame that on young Kipper. He knows the radio disc jockey presenter, so he pitched us one night while out on the piss with him. The presenter told Kipper that he had trawled through loads of demos and most of them sounded crap. Kipper never mentioned it to us because he thought that his friend would have forgotten, with them both being spannered. However, he called Kipper earlier and told him he had listened to Hope many times and it had blown him away, so he put it in the show.” Steve paused and said, “He reckons we could win.”
“Do they know we are old men?” Charles asked, sounding concerned.
“No, but that’s no problem. It is after all radio, and we all have perfect faces for radio,” Steve chuckled and asked. “When are you coming back to Fossdyke?”
Charles thought for a moment. He planned to stay with his family until after the New Year, but after this revelation, he rethought his plans and said. “I’ll be back in a few days. I will ask John to bring me back on the 28th.”
“Good, we can listen to the one-hour show together on the 29th. Oh, hang on, I’ve another call waiting.”
Buddy Holly played through the phone as Steve put Charles on hold, and after a few minutes, Steve said. “Chippers will be here on the same day. The little fellow sounded drunk but excited.”
Charles could hear people congratulating and toasting Steve and Wayne.
“I got to go Nobby, it’s hectic here. See you soon,” said Steve and hung up.
Charles spent the next few days in quiet meditation. He reflected on his past with Mary and the loneliness he now felt with the first Christmas he had spent without her in almost 50 years. Although he stayed with John and his family, and his other children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren visited him, he felt lonely and miserable. He not only missed Mary, but he also missed his friends at Fossdyke and felt excited to return, but did not mention the radio show to his family.
John drove him back to Fossdyke at lunchtime on the 28th. Charles joined Steve and Wayne in the dining room and waited for Elvin, who arrived an hour later.
At 3:00 pm the following day, Strat, Sticks, Chippers, and Nobby held onto each other as they walked along the icy road toward the Wellow. The lounge, packed with noisy customers, applauded the old men as they walked in and went over to a table. Cosmo played the broadcast through the pub’s speakers and at 4:00 pm, silence ensued as the radio show started. The D.J. announced he would play all seven songs before the phone lines would open for people to vote. Another band’s song entry played and the Wellow crowd jeered and shouted about out how crappy it sounded. This jeering continued until it came time for song number five. The DJ presenter announced that listeners had inundated the station with requests to play more Fossils music. The airwaves went silent for a moment. ‘Consider Me Gone’ played and the Wellow crowd erupted with cheers. The four proud old men felt like rock-stars as the Wellow’s customers sang along with the lyrics blasting out over the radio. After all seven songs played, the presenter announced that the phone lines were now open and voting could begin, and the winners announced on the next day's show. The old men felt like royalty as customers came over and plied them with drinks and compliments. Several hours later, customers helped the four wrinkly, wobbling, *wankered rockers, back to Fossdyke.
The following morning, with each of them hung-over, the old band tucked into their greasy English breakfast, hoping Steve’s bowel would behave itself.
They spent the morning in the recreation room on a brisk winter's day feeling ill and blaming each other for their hangovers.
Four delicate old codgers made their way to the crowded Wellow at 3:00 pm. and Cosmo gave the old-timers each a whiskey, ‘the hair of the dog.’ They sat at their usual table with Kipper and Cosmo, who giggled at their vacant, hangdog expressions. The Wellow fell silent with an air of tension as the broadcast began. The presenter announced that there was a clear winner. He stalled for the first 30 minutes and played other records to build up the tension. The Wellow crowd shouted at the radio, calling the DJ a wanker, and telling him to get a move on. At 4:30, jingles played, before a drum-roll and the presenter announced the results in reverse order.
“In 3rd place, with 12% of the votes,” he announced. “Blow Torch; from Scunthorpe.”
He played their entry, the Wellow crowd booed at the radio until the song finished, and the presenter announced. “In second place and runner-up, receiving 17% of the votes... From Louth; The Interbreeds.”
He played their song and again the Wellow crowd booed and jeered, which went on until 4:45 pm when the presenter, sounding excited, announced, “There is a clear winner, with 71% of the votes.” The airwaves went silent, and then there was a drum-roll.
The introduction from ‘Consider Me Gone’ played and the D.J announced. “From Cleethorpes... Fossils; Consider Me Gone.”
The Wellow erupted in pandemonium. Customers shouted and jumped up and down cheering, with people showered in beer as glasses swung around.
Four old men looked stunned as people came over and bought them more drinks.
The revelry went on for several minutes before Cosmo noticed the show had finished. He turned off the radio and wondered which bastard had let off another stink bomb.
The lounge smelled ripe, but fortunately, it was only a small emission from Steve, which people caught up in the excitement ignored.
Kipper received a phone call from his friend, the disc jockey from the radio station. It was noisy, so he took the phone outside. Glad to be in the fresh air; he listened to details of the next stage in the competition. The conversation didn’t last long and the presenter told Kipper that he needed to go to the Radio Lincolnshire offices and get details for the nationwide competition on BBC Radio One.
Fossils returned to Fossdyke, again wankered by the afternoon’s celebrations. The following day they nursed their hangovers. They all knew that the celebrations were not about to end as New Year was only days away. They agreed to take it easy on the booze over the next few days and concentrate on the national competition.
––––––––
KIPPER ARRIVED AT FOSSDYKE on a frosty afternoon. He had been to the radio’s offices that morning, and they sat around the gas fire in the recreation room where Kipper gave them the details for the next stage of the competition. The national competition would start on January 2nd and broadcasted throughout the UK. on BBC, Radio One. The show would air for one hour a day. Four songs from one of the ten winning regional bands would play in each segment and a panel of three judges would then comment on the band's material. After ten days, there would be a two-hour special, with each band’s songs played again before voting opened nationwide. The following day would be another two-hour special to announce the winner.
Elvin, looking nervous, asked. “Do we 'ave to go to London and perform?”
“No.” replied Kipper, “They only need the CD and information about the band.”
Steve rubbed his head and grimaced. “Do they need photographs?” he asked.
“Leave all that to me,” said Kipper and smirked.
“So, buggerlugs,” said Steve, as he jokingly referred to Kipper. “Do they know that we are four old codgers?”
Kipper laughed and said, “Not exactly. My mate at Radio Lincolnshire just assumed you were a boy-band.”
“What made him assume that?” asked Charles, sounding concerned.
Kipper grinned and said, “There may have been a miscommunication when we got drunk and I handed over your CD.”
“That’s okay,” chuckled Elvin. “We are perfect for radio; suave, debonair, young, and ‘andsome... who'd know the difference?”
“The problem would be if you win the nationals,” said Kipper puckering his brow. “You might have to go to London to collect the prize.” He paused and told them, “But we've done nothing illegal.”
“Maybe not, but we will be a laughing-stock when they see how old and wrinkly we are. They would expect four Justin Bieber’s and they'll be getting four Just-in this-mortal-coils,” said Elvin.
“What’s the matter, Charles? You look worried,” said Wayne, sounding concerned.
“I am,” said Charles, “It should worry us all. We’d already decided this was only a bit of fun. I agree with Elvin, we would all be laughing-stocks, and I don’t want to deal with that nonsense at my age.”
“Relax Charlie boy,” said Steve. “We won’t win. Kids today like that rap crap, not our type of music. We would have our moment in the spotlight and enjoy the free booze at the Wellow.” He grinned, looked at Kipper, and asked. “What are you laughing about buggerlugs?”
“Rap music died decades ago Steve. It’s hip-hop now,” he said.
“Whatever,” said Steve and asked. “Who are the judges?”
Kipper told them. “Jimmy Hand, a record producer and critic, Gary Barlow, the front-man from the popular group ‘Take That’, and Susan Boyle, a television national contest winner and now an international superstar.”
“I like that Gary Barlow, he’s been in *Coronation street for ages,” said Elvin.
The others looked confused.
“That’s Ken Barlow you senile old goat,” said Steve and burst out laughing.
Charles, still apprehensive, joined in with the laughter.
The five were making plans when Lucy Fossdyke and Mrs Chew came into the recreation room and went over to them. Lucy had heard the radio programme and looked overjoyed.
Lucy kissed Steve and said. “I’m so proud of all of you, your record sounded wonderful. You must be excited about winning and going to the final... who knows Dad, I might be the daughter of a rock star,” she chuckled.
They smiled at Lucy. “Who knows,” said Steve, and glanced at the others.
Mrs Chew was unusually courteous and kissed them all, including a shocked Kipper.
They spent the rest of the afternoon talking and joking about the band and the competition. At 4:00 pm Lucy left Fossdyke. Mrs Chew invited Kipper to stay and have a meal with them at the home and arranged for the kitchen to open early for the superstars. Kipper accepted the offer, much to the relief of Wayne, who could see Mrs Chew’s lusty attention now focused on Kipper.
Cosmo arranged the transportation, and that evening the van arrived to take their equipment for their practice session at the packed out Wellow. The old men put on their overcoats and took a gentle stroll, and even though the evenings were dark and the pavements icy, they felt happy sliding along like school kids.
Over the next few days, things became hectic for Fossils. Kipper organised all aspects of the national competition. He made promo literature which came as a relief for the old men as they understood nothing about this stuff and Cosmo appointed himself and Kipper their managers.
Kipper hadn’t sent photographs of the band; his disc jockey friend told him that although the promo material should contain pictures, it never stated that they had to be photographs, so Kipper made a collage of dark blurry faces. Kipper told his D.J. friend to let Radio One know that the blurred pictures would add to the mystique of Fossils. Amused, the BBC's producers accepted this and Kipper liaised with the show’s producer who told him that Fossils would feature on day seven of the competition and needed to choose four songs to enter. Kipper, Cosmo, and the band considered which songs they would put forward. ‘Consider Me Gone’ was their first and obvious choice, as it had got them this far. ‘Vulnerable’ was their ballad choice to show their range, and they all agreed that ‘Life is Too Short to Be Sad’ was to be the third entry. They took a vote among the customers at the Wellow, who voted ‘Cold, Cold Steel,’ as the fourth song to represent them at the national contest. Kipper told the Radio Lincolnshire office which four recordings from the CD they wanted to enter and the production team made the demo entry for the national show.
Everyone felt excited as the competition drew closer. Fossils spent their time rehearsing and playing until their spot on the show. They listened to the radio broadcast daily when the show started and heard their competitors' entries. Although they knew they couldn’t compete with modern-day bands and the new music culture, they still felt nervous as their big day approached. They noticed a pattern emerging among the judges.
Susan Boyle spoke with a chirpy Scottish monotone voice and the songs she commented on was either ‘greet’ or ‘not quite my cup of tea,’ and sounded like a pleasant woman. Gary Barlow gave honest opinions and criticism, commenting from a musician and successful songwriter’s perspective. He gave credit to the bands that he thought were good and pointers to the ones he felt lacked something. Jimmy Hand slated most of the bands. This nasty critic, who nobody had ever heard of before, was trying to make a name for himself as the next untalented gobshite. The show’s presenter was the popular 70s, 80s, and 90s Radio One host, Steve Wright, who constantly made fun of Jimmy Hand; telling listeners that it was the only hand he would be glad to see the back of and reminding them that it was their votes who decided the winners.
At last, their day arrived. The Fossils trundled through the snow to the Wellow to listen to the live BBC show. Customers packed out the Wellow as they came along to support their wrinkly rockers.
“Look,” said Steve, holding up his shaken hands. “It must be the nerves.”
“It’s probably the D.T’s,” said Elvin, “we’ve supped too much over the past few weeks.”
Charles, Wayne, and Elvin looked at Steve knocking back a whiskey, and in unison said, “No bloody farting.”
Steve put down the glass as Cosmo came over and sat with them. Kipper arrived several minutes later and joined the motley crew.
The atmosphere in the Wellow felt electric and there was silence in the lounge as the show started. Steve Wright went through the usual formalities and played records. The old-timers became nervous when he mentioned over three million listeners were tuning in.
A record finished and Steve Wright announced. “Today’s band is representing BBC Radio Lincolnshire and is a young band from Costa del Cleethorpes,” he said and chuckled.
Fossils looked at one another, and then at Kipper, who threw up his hands and shrugged.
“Young band, I don’t like the sound of that,” said Steve frowning and feeling nervous as Steve Wright continued. “This is their first track taken from their album, Hope... Vulnerable.”
Vulnerable played and the Wellow crowd were in an uproar, shouting and cheering. The air around one certain member of the group became ripe, which sent Cosmo on an investigation as to which bastard had let off a stink bomb... again.
The record finished and the judges gave their opinions. Susan Boyle thought it was greet. Gary Barlow gave high praise to the melody and lyrics and said that the singer had a mature and unique voice. Jimmy Hand thought it was okay, but lacked something, as he did not like boring ballads.
However, they became more excited after each of the other songs played, and after ‘Cold Cold Steel’ finished they all raved about Fossils. Gary Barlow summed them up as an amazing young talent that brought back renewed life and vigour to rock music, with a refreshingly unique sound. Jimmy Hand said that the Hope album could become a 21st-century iconic ground-breaker and made comparisons with Meatloaf’s, ‘Bat out of Hell.’ Susan Boyle, who had been bopping along to the tunes, said. “It wey greet!”
Everyone was delighted with the show’s outcome. The Wellow customers chanted Fossils... Fossils... continuously and brought drinks over to the old-timers. Once again, the wrinkly rock sensations, and pride of Cleethorpes, needed escorting back to the residential home, wankered.
The next three days dragged for Fossils as the final three bands songs played and judged. They went to the Wellow for the two-hour special and heard each band's music played again. At the end of the show, Steve Wright announced that voting was open and would close three hours before the next day’s finale.
The Wellow filled with chatter as customers called the show’s free phone lines to cast their votes. The old men remained calm after listening to all the bands featured. A few hip-hop bands stood out from the others, easing their concerns about winning. They staggered back to Fossdyke through the snow.
Judgement day: They congregated at the Wellow and the show played through the bar speakers to a packed, but silent, Wellow crowd. Cosmo had Fossils T-shirts, small flags, and banners made with logos. He did a roaring trade with sales of his merchandise and the band's CD.
There was a serious mood in the Wellow as the show started. Steve Wright went through the formalities and explained the format, saying, “The three finalist’s songs would play throughout the show with a siren preceding it and then the winning band announced towards the end of the show with their winning songs played. Let’s kick off the show with this classic from the eighties,” he chuckled as the birdie song played.
The show had been running for forty minutes when the first siren wailed.
The lounge became silent.
There was a drum-roll, and then a trumpet fanfare as Steve Wright said, “In third place” he paused, and as hip-hop song played, he announced, “Arena, from the BBC Radio Merseyside area with one of their entries, Ragman”
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