The Diary Of Adrian Fox - Intro | January | February | March | April | The End - November

Saturday January 1^st 1977

Today, New Year’s Day. I suppose it has been fairly eventful, Pauline and Mick came over this morning at half-11, left at 12.30pm. Speedy keen, couldn’t wait to bloody get away. He was so fucking cool about the talc I bought him for Xmas, but still what can you expect from a worn-out, pseudo hippy such as that jerk? As far as I’m concerned, all hippies are pseudo hippies, so that’s just it.

Well, they went home kwik after grabbing their Christmas stuff from mum and dad sure ‘nuff (it was all they came for, anyway!). So, that’s those two done for a while. Went down to the main shopping precinct 9Sainsbury’s) and bought a gold razor blade pendant off a street trader for 40 pence. Not bad, cheaper than a fucking jar of coffee, these days!

At half past 6pm though, me and my 19 year old sister Sharon went to see The Damned, a wave-Punk band who were playing Islington’s ‘Hope & Anchor’ for today and tomorrow. They were great, a fantastic band, I’m going to see them tomorrow if I can. Elton John and co. are dead! Would he mingle and fraternize with the crowd before a gig? Piss off, well that’s The Damned! They played a great set, New Rose, Help, and Fan Club included. After three Heinekens I got a bit ‘merry’. Me and the bog were great friends, that night. My writing’s so illiterate. No worry, though. The support band? Yeah, Johnny Moped & The Morons were just fantastic, Captain Sensible played with them, so thoughtful to lend a helping hand, yet so sensible!

I did the pogo all night long, didn’t stop (crushed some toes accidentally in the process), it was a great night. No violence, it’s all a bloody blow-up, courtesy of the Press, they write about violence at the gigs, but have they ever experienced one? Balls, no.

Oh, it’s half past 3 in the morning, and I’m in bed, now. Oh I’m so tired after tonight, ready for a good night’s sleep.

I’m going to see The Damned again, tomorrow, ‘cos I think they are really worth it, we were the only ones from Ilford, by the way, the only ones. Goodnight.

Sunday January 2^nd 1977

It looks like it’s going to be one of my best years ever. I’m having a helluva lot of fun already. Last night I said I was going to see The Damned again, and I did.

We got there at quarter to nine, grabbed a beer, and took it down to the basement where the band was playing. Came halfway through Eater’s set, who says 15 year olds can’t play Rock’n’Roll!!! They were great, no, they weren’t they were fucking fantastic. They played ‘Queen Bitch’ better than Bowie could ever done, ‘Fuck you’ is a great little number, mean raucous rock, fast stuff. The good thing about New wave is that the kids in the bands don’t act the star, they’re down on the level. Rock belongs to the street. It has to be said idolism is dead.’Cos it’s 1977! (nayah!) I went krazy, pogo krazy, Robotic krazy, krazed krazy. 

Vanian wore his leather jacket (a cloak, last night), he looked (and sounded) effective. Captain Sensible played great, they all did, ‘Fan Club’, ‘Fish’, etc etc, all told, they played a magnificent set.  ‘New Rose’ was the encore, I stayed for another, but there wasn’t one. Encores are old fart, now, anyway.

After staggering out of the basement, I bumped into Andy Blade of Eater, I was going to get another drink but didn’t want to be late home, so I left it. He was good to talk to, no star routine at all, there is none of that now, those days are gone. Yeah, he’s fantastic, he reckoned I was OK, so I ‘spose that’s ok, really. I want to see them tomorrow, you know, I’m going to see them tomorrow!

On the way home me and my sister met two girls (who looked as P’d as N’s!) who gave Sharon a light cos her lighter fell down a bog and wouldn’t work! They were great so she gave them a fag, I gave them one of my ‘More’ cigarettes also, cos they were great. The girls didn’t catch the same train as us. When me and Sharon got on the train, one of the girls showed me her tit (oh yeah, what a noo year present), they were well pissed…

Oh yeah, I wore my black shirt, black shades and my old silver and green-striped boarding school tie (with a swastika earring I got through the post, last year) – nazzy, dressed to kill, man! (I still think I look like that bloke from the American band ‘The Tuff Darts’…)

Monday January 3^rd 1977

Saw Eater as I said I would at the Rochester Castle in Stoke Newington. Well, as soon as I walked in I was a bit wary, as a lot of hairies were there. Still, I got me and Sharon a pint, and saw Andy Blade, Dee Generate etc etc at the next table, said hello, recognized from last night I ‘spose. Andy reckoned they were going on at quarter to ten (we got there at half eight) and had a smoke etc, until then. 

Yeah, well, at quarter to things got moving, a yell, then the hairies turned the Hip shit off, relief. I didn’t know what the first number was, as I was starting to rock, second number, it was ‘Get Raped’, which is bloody fantastic!! I was the only boy up front rockin’, five girls also (including me sister) who also did their bit. We got the yells, you know ‘Punk shit, Punk queers’ etc, but we took it with no worry at all. Things got out of hand when a bottle (glass) was thrown and hit Sharon’s arse, if she’d found it, it would’ve gone right back (I would’ve!). I grabbed my comb (steel) and told them to “Fuck off home and watch TV, ‘Yanks Go Home’ is on, so watch that and don’t come here making trouble for everyone!”. I was the only boy, they shut up. The other girls (crazy creatures) got chucked a can of beer (unopened) later on, they popped it, chucked some at the Hips, then gave the rest to Andy. At least he got a free drink off those bastards!

The set was stopped by Eater, cos you could tell things could have got worse. Fuck those freaks, I hate their soddin’ guts!!! A scowl, we congratulated Eater on the great gig, they told us they are playing the Roxy, Covent Garden, on the 13^th, so guess who’s gonna be there!!!

See those freaks try it, next time. Next time I’ll be ready, if need be. I am a peaceful kind at heart, never was a fighter, but a fighter I will be if I have to. Bon jour, mon ami! (there’ll be more tomorrow!)

'These Things' Eater review at the Rochester Castle

Wednesday January 5^th 1977

Yes, of course it’s been another working day, as usual it has been reasonably alright. Dad woke me up at quarter to eight, after a little lie in, I got up at 8 O’clock. Oh no, it was yet another one of those mad, manic dashes to work, but I made it, ok. I wasn’t late, though.

 At around 9 O’clock however, I noticed that we had our new boy (since Steve left 2 months ago, nobody had bothered to apply, except for a hippy of 25, and that’s too old. The feller seemed alright, though, I don’t despise all hippies, so please don’t get me wrong.) 

Well, at half past nine me and Kevin had our tea break with the new kid, Terry Swelley, and he’s nineteen. The kid’s alright! He seems shy (as shy as I had once been, really), about my height, black hair, darkish skin, and in a way, punkish. I asked him if he was what you might call a…’Punk’… and he told me he was. I could tell he was a ‘cotton-Punk’, only in it for the fashion. I was not one of the very, very first, but I can safely class myself as a New Wave, as I can remember the scene forming. I remember how Eddie and The Hot Rods got discovered at the French Punk festival. I noticed Eddie in numerous gig dates even before the rock papers carried the news of new Wave music.

Still, he seems ok, he’s seen The Damned and Eater at least, been to The New Roxy. That is one step above our Ilford (punks) lot, who regularly think it’s ‘punk’ to listen to funk music at the Seven Kings disco, the… ‘Lacy Lady’. These fuckers even think it’s ‘it’ with the violence bit! These bastards should be destroyed, annihilated!! These cunt rockers have got the scene wrong!!! Oh so wrong. I asked Terry if he had any records, sex Pistols, Richard hell, Ramones, Damned etc etc. No, he hasn’t. He needs educating.

Friday January 7^th 1977

I went back to work today like a good boy (I need the cash, man) and Mr. Meider told me that there was not a thing to worry about, everything was straight. Well, at least that is a relief, I don’t want to lose this job as A/. It is very good pay for a person of my age, B/. It hardly uses up many brain cells doing heavy work, C/. The atmosphere is magnificent, and so are the people I work with, a highly fantastic crowd. And of course, D/. It keeps me out of boredom. I don’t believe that the unemployment situation is quite as bad as is generally made out to us, the great, lumbering, ignorant horde of uninitiated morons to Truth, Joe Public. They (‘They’ is them, the Government who want to drive ambition, hope, rebellion out of our minds so as to ‘keep us down’, if you get my point) want to make us feel as if we were damn lucky to be in a job, that is the whole thing.

Well, after work I went down the road with Terry on my way home, as we both live around the same area. Yeah, he’s ok, a reasonable kid.

That black school blazer I renovated late last night has turned out fantastic!! Bolts, bath chain, razor blade, safety pins etc on the widened lapels look great, one of Ilford’s few I suppose I could say I am, now.

Sharon got two fanzines in London, today, at a place called ‘Rough Trade’, they stock deletions, imports etc etc. the ones I got were ‘Sniffin Glue’ (no.3), and No.1 of ‘Bondage’. They are great – readable. ‘Bondage’ I think is a great creation! I have decided though that when I get paid tomorrow I’m going to get a two-tone jacket, in either blue or green. I think it might be green. Night (yawn…)

PS: Sharon also got me Blondie’s ‘X Offender’ single – it’s brilliant! (been playing it all night – the ‘B’ side’s good an’all – it’s called ‘In The Sun’). I played the Pistols ‘Anarchy’ 10 times running when I got it last December, but I must’ve played Blondie’s ‘X Offender’ 20 times running!

Monday January 10^th 1977

I got up in time for work for once, today. Yeah, first of all I got my letter to ‘Sounds’ posted off. It’s not going to be in next week’s edition, but it is the week after, I think. I really hope I get a few replies, cos it would be great to write to a Punkette (heh-he), cos I’m bored to hell with no pen-friends, as I like writing letters (I like getting them, an’all!).

At 1pm today I asked terry if he could get that two-tone jacket off his mate, cos I wouldn’t mind giving him a fiver for it. He said he’d ask, so that’s fine with me. Hope he can do it. I went home, had a meat pie and coffee with my mum, then shot off down to Ilford to get a pair of straight-leg ‘Sta-Prest’ trousers. (Later). I couldn’t get black, but I got white, I’ll dye them black next week, anyway. Got back to work at quarter to two, changed in the bogs, the trousers looked great!! Nice fit, etc etc. Cost me £3.95p as they were shop-soiled, would have cost £4.50p normally. Not bad. Not bad at all! Yeah, Terry came in at ten to two, he got the jacket, and it was just first class! It is green which shimmers blue when you move. That and the white trousers look just great! So-so for today, wonder what the hell tomorrow brings.

 Thursday January 13^th 1977

Today it was my day off. God, after a week of reasonably hard slog, it really is just what you need!! During the day I just sat around reading, not doing anything special. I took Sheila (our dog) out for a walk, but the snow was coming down so heavily that we couldn’t stay down the park for long. It was like a blizzard, snow covered my black great-coat after ten minutes out, and I got so much in my face, I just couldn’t see.

At Ilford, when me and Sharon got home, I had a couple of photos taken off the new colour machine, it even dries the photos, too! (in my black shirt, two-tone jacket and shades). My dad used to be a 1930’s Blackshirt (orator for Mosely) – Nazi bastard! Well, seen as I’m feeling tired and we got a long day tomorrow, I’ll say bye. Ok? (Bye).

Monday January 17^th 1977

Rather a boring day The usual. Sorry, I can’t write much today, except…

The Damned were on at The Roxy, tonight, it was packed and was a bollocking good gig – can’t go on, cos I’m tired of being chained to this diary sometimes – if only our lives were filmed as we lived them, then we wouldn’t have to come back from a gig near dawn and WRITE INTO DIARIES! The Damned are always good! (I missed The Boys, though, cos I was looning around upstairs). Nought else…

Wednesday January 19^th 1977

Yes, it was work again as usual. Me and Terry had to work like buggery today, Barry and Kevin were off. Lucky sods, it was their day off!

'These Things' - First Issue

After work I went home to do a bit more on (to) my mag. Yeah, I managed to finish it at 12 O’clock, my lunch break was adequate enough to give me the time. Well, that does the written business, but after work I added a page with a Damned record ad on it, which should come out magnificently in Xerox. Xerox, that’s the photocopy machine, one is down our local library in Ilford. I ‘spose it’ll cost me 5p or 10p to use the damn thing, but I’ll have to pay the price if I’m to get 20 or 30 mags on the street. Yeah, all finished, the mag looks ok really, I just hope to hell it’s good enough to get sold, that’s all. The fucking Adverts are playing the Roxy tonight, but I can’t go cos of last night! Bleedin’ shame. Shame, etc. Fucking work do!. The mag has a front page photo of The Saints, a short review of the single and a part on them. Also, a detailed review on the Eater gig at The Rochester Castle, Damned news, and (really nearly all through the mag’s 10 pages) an attack on the dull, non-existent Ilford Scene. As the so-called ‘editor’, I have named myself Randy Bollocker (old private joke), as to put your own name is a bit risky, really. Still, tomorrow’s my day off, so I’ll try to get up early, go down the library to get the mag Xeroxed a few times. Night

.Friday January 21^st 1977

Am pleased with my Xeroxed mag. I will wait until next week to do another load of mags. It’s easy to do a fanzine, by the way – All you do is write out the piece – stick photos and felt-in titles of the review, or whatever, then Xerox the whole thing – the hardest bit is to sort out 50 copies of the same page, loads of other piles of other pages too, then put ‘em all together one by one until you got a mag, staple it together, then pick pages off of the piles and start all over again –exhausting!

Saturday January 22^nd 1977

Today I had to give dad about £10. out of my wages, because I lent four quid off him last week for a night out at that ‘Tiffanies’ dump, also another six quid for rent. I don’t mind – paying it all back in one week, as my dad is always pretty fantastic as regards to lends, etc etc, so it’s no great loss to me, really, I’ve paid it, it’s off me back, and that is that. At dinner time (12 O’clock today) I went down to Ilford to get a film for my camera, a black and white 126 cartridge for my Hannimex 88X model. That’s going to be used for a series of future magazine shots. Namely of The Damned, Generation X, Rejects, and maybe Eater if I’m lucky to see them around.

After work, I went down to the library to do a few copies of my mag, I ran as fast as hell but didn’t quite make it. I lost my Nazi earring in the process, a fucking loss at that! I got to the library as the attendant shut the door. Wouldn’t let me Xerox! Cunt! Fucking officious bastard!

Sunday January 23^rd 1977

F.A. (Nothing in other words). Just a minute, man – let me describe The Roxy Club to you – The cellar where they have the bands is small, with matt black walls, covered in spots with floor-t-ceiling mirrors (which makes the crowd in there look 10 times larger, cos of the reflections) – the carpet upstairs is maroon, there are two bars (one upstairs, one downstairs) – the wilder Punks hang out downstairs, whereas upstairs is the province of the rich Punks, fanzine editors and rock journalists (also people from the bands).

The poseurs love the downstairs mirrors, by the way. (Best place to hang out is the ladies bogs!!!). Oh yeah, I prefer downstairs and hanging out in the ladies bogs! Admission to The Roxy depends on the gig – usually anywhere from 80p to £1.50p

Tuesday January 25^th 1977

Today has been very busy, work-wise, Kevin, Barry and I had a late delivery job on, so that was rather bollocking bad, eh? Crawled out of work at quarter to seven, I was both worn out and relieved to get away. I had a go at taping, but couldn’t work anything out. Shit, my player isn’t good enough. Night.

Friday January 28^th 1977

Friday night was a night, alright, pretty hard at work today, but not really too bad. I went down to The New Roxy in Covent Garden to see Generation X, New Wave band, also on the same bill was Sham 69. I bought a set of 3 flashes as I wanted to get a few photos of each band for my magazine’s 2^nd issue (1b) of “London’s These Things”. The flashes cost me about £1.49p, but I’m not worried about that at all, really.

Sham weren’t so bad really, a bit of a ‘Rotten’ take-off on the singer’s part, but they did some nifty little numbers, such as ‘Rich Boy’, ‘Get Out’ and the magnificent ‘Borstal Break Out’. I got two photos of their lead singer. They’ll go in my mag, if they turn out alright.

Saturday January 29^th 1977  

Got that jean jacket I wanted from Manor Park – I’ll wear it to the Damned gig, on Monday!

Monday January 31^st 1977

Damned & Rejects (Roxy).

Got to The Roxy early tonight (about 9 or half 8pm) – I did wear my jean jacket! I’ve done it up with chains hanging from the left shoulder, and have written ‘Gen X’ in safety pins on the right side of the upper-sleeve – my hair looks great – all black and bushy – Christ, I’m in love with me! (ain’t my fucking fault – why not?). When The rejects were on, Punks threw cans and plastic cups at their lead singer (a blonde bastard with LONG HAIR!) – I know one of mine landed on the drummer’s drum kit… The rejects tried playing, but kept on stopping, threatening us because we were buzzing stuff at ‘em – miserable bastards! I yelled out, at the end of their set “They’re dropping like flies, in ‘ere!” – everybody laughed, cos we fucking WERE!

Brian James of the Damned at the Roxy

The Damned came on, shortly after – I took some great photos with my Hannimex of dave vanian (the lead singer) – pogo action was wild/wild/wild/wild/wild, and we still wanted an encore – we got ‘em – New Rose and Fish – blimey, the ceiling nearly caved in with the heads that were bashing into it! When I’d finished taking photos, I pogoed like a demon, then – bang! I was going down from a jump, and a bloke in front of me was going up – guess what happened? My mouth smacked into this bloke’s head and SPLIT – bleeding and swelling! I feel down, nearly twisting my bloody ankle, an’all! I fought to get up off of the floor, cos I didn’t wanna be TRAMPLED INTO IT, man! Funnily enough, after dabbing my bleeding lip dry with the sleeve of my denim jacket, I still carried on pogoing!

Later on, I met that crazy bloke Doug, again (he’s older than me a bit, and wears a brown combat jacket, done up with safety pins and chains) by the bar – He told me he’d pierced his ear by freezing the lobe with a block of ice, then stuck a safety pin through it – he said he’d drunk a whole bottle of whiskey before he did it, though (no fucking wonder!) – what a mad bastard! He said he’d pierce mine for me, but I told him I preferred to use clip-on or screw-in earrings, instead. Doug’s alright, but he’s really crazy1 After the gig, me and Sharon (my sister) waited for our train at Liverpool Street Station, as usual – we got talking to a straight bloke and his girlfriend – they were alright – The girl said she was scared of Punks, but changed her mind after meeting us – I gave her the orange I bought at the tea kiosk – g’night…