If you were a regular gig-goer in London during the Eighties and Nineties, chances were that you crossed paths with Paul Talling. Being a fan of punk and indie-music, Paul promoted many gigs at numerous smaller venues in and around London, including the Bull & Gate, The Robey and The Red Eye. At the same time, he was also releasing the popular ‘Snakebite City’ compilation albums, showcasing many of the bands who were playing in London during those years. However, in more recent times as he became less-interested in promoting music, he developed a fascination with documenting parts and places in London that are gradually being lost. At first he established a website to display his photos and information, but media interest in what he was doing quickly picked up and led to a publishing deal with Penguin/Random House. This would see the release of his first book, ‘Derelict London’, the success of which led to a second title, ‘London’s Lost Rivers’. In turn, he would also start to organise walking tours around various intriguing locations in London, an idea which has proved to be very popular. Most recently, he has published two new books with Damaged Goods, documenting ‘London’s Lost Music Venues’. They are both intriguing to read and, instead of bemoaning the loss of iconic venues, set out to celebrate the legacy of these much-missed locations.
I had intended to interview Paul when the first book was published, but that pesky pandemic got in the way and it’s only recently that we managed to meet-up. The first thing I wanted to ask about was how he became involved in the independent music scene, back in the Eighties…
‘I first got involved by promoting gigs around London and the South East. I put on quite a few gigs at the Sir George Robey in Finsbury Park, the Opera on the Green in Shepherds Bush, the Lady Owen Arms at the Angel, and The Red Eye, which was between Kings Cross and Islington. There were also a few places like the West End Centre in Aldershot and The Bullingdon in Oxford… I was more into the punkier side of stuff and what inspired me to put gigs on were bands like Mega City Four, the Senseless Things and Snuff, who I used to go and see a lot, plus smaller bands like Red Letter Day, The Sect and so on. There were lots of newer bands coming along, like Manic Street Preachers, and there was a band from Aldershot called Phobia who I really liked, so I ended up releasing their first single. It was all just stuff that I thought I’d do because it seemed like fun. Then I started releasing compilation albums, called ‘Snakebite City’, which John Peel used to like, as well as a few other DJ’s such as Gary Crowley… It was good fun and I managed to get national distribution so it did really well and I ended-up releasing twelve compilations and a few singles by different bands, as well as putting on gigs alongside the records. But it was all based on the DIY thing, dating back to when I first did a fanzine at school about Mod bands.’
You eventually moved away from promoting gigs and releasing records… was there a gap between when you were doing that and when you got involved with the Derelict London project?
‘Well, I think it was when The Red Eye was taken-over and converted into flats, which became quite a common theme for smaller music venues. I think that was around 2003 and that’s when I really started to notice how so many of these places were disappearing. I remember going to a club at the LA2 one night and having to walk back to Richmond afterwards, which took hours and hours although it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Anyway, I walked past the old Prices Candle Factory in Battersea, which was being demolished, and I remember thinking that if I had a camera at that time, I could’ve got a really good photograph... I just think I’d come to a natural end with promoting gigs and instead, I became interested in taking photographs at places like non-league football matches or parties I went to in places that were disappearing… Some time later I was at a pub in Plaistow one night and someone said that I ought to speak to the Newham Recorder as they’d probably be interested in what I was doing, like, trying to document these disappearing, derelict parts of London… So that came together and from that one little feature in a local newspaper, it really took off. The Evening Standard picked up on it, then a bloke from The Guardian got in touch… So there really wasn’t a gap between what I had been doing and getting involved in this. One thing just carried on from the other, even though I had never planned it that way. But suddenly, people were telling me that I could do this or that, or I should get someone else involved to run a website... I just decided that I could do it myself, as I’d always done. It was a bit like a cut’n’paste fanzine, as I could do whatever I wanted to do and have full control over it. And I must’ve been doing something right because it’s nearly twenty years later and it’s still going strong.’
‘I first got involved by promoting gigs around London and the South East. I put on quite a few gigs at the Sir George Robey in Finsbury Park, the Opera on the Green in Shepherds Bush, the Lady Owen Arms at the Angel, and The Red Eye, which was between Kings Cross and Islington. There were also a few places like the West End Centre in Aldershot and The Bullingdon in Oxford… I was more into the punkier side of stuff and what inspired me to put gigs on were bands like Mega City Four, the Senseless Things and Snuff, who I used to go and see a lot, plus smaller bands like Red Letter Day, The Sect and so on. There were lots of newer bands coming along, like Manic Street Preachers, and there was a band from Aldershot called Phobia who I really liked, so I ended up releasing their first single. It was all just stuff that I thought I’d do because it seemed like fun. Then I started releasing compilation albums, called ‘Snakebite City’, which John Peel used to like, as well as a few other DJ’s such as Gary Crowley… It was good fun and I managed to get national distribution so it did really well and I ended-up releasing twelve compilations and a few singles by different bands, as well as putting on gigs alongside the records. But it was all based on the DIY thing, dating back to when I first did a fanzine at school about Mod bands.’
You eventually moved away from promoting gigs and releasing records… was there a gap between when you were doing that and when you got involved with the Derelict London project?
‘Well, I think it was when The Red Eye was taken-over and converted into flats, which became quite a common theme for smaller music venues. I think that was around 2003 and that’s when I really started to notice how so many of these places were disappearing. I remember going to a club at the LA2 one night and having to walk back to Richmond afterwards, which took hours and hours although it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Anyway, I walked past the old Prices Candle Factory in Battersea, which was being demolished, and I remember thinking that if I had a camera at that time, I could’ve got a really good photograph... I just think I’d come to a natural end with promoting gigs and instead, I became interested in taking photographs at places like non-league football matches or parties I went to in places that were disappearing… Some time later I was at a pub in Plaistow one night and someone said that I ought to speak to the Newham Recorder as they’d probably be interested in what I was doing, like, trying to document these disappearing, derelict parts of London… So that came together and from that one little feature in a local newspaper, it really took off. The Evening Standard picked up on it, then a bloke from The Guardian got in touch… So there really wasn’t a gap between what I had been doing and getting involved in this. One thing just carried on from the other, even though I had never planned it that way. But suddenly, people were telling me that I could do this or that, or I should get someone else involved to run a website... I just decided that I could do it myself, as I’d always done. It was a bit like a cut’n’paste fanzine, as I could do whatever I wanted to do and have full control over it. And I must’ve been doing something right because it’s nearly twenty years later and it’s still going strong.’
I assume that the ‘Derelict London’ books were published before you started organising the walking tours?
‘Oh yeah… I was with a publisher at the time, Penguin/Random House, and ‘Derelict London’ was a great success. I was starting to talk to them about another book, this time about lost rivers and canals. They mentioned that someone at Waterstones had suggested that I should do some guided walks to tie-in with the books. I didn’t know if anyone would be interested in that, but we decided to include an email address in the new book so that people could get in touch if they might be interested in joining a guided walk with me. To my surprise, I got loads and loads of emails so I started doing these guided walks for places like the lost River Fleet and the Surrey canal from Peckham to Rotherhithe… A lot of people who came along to those started asking if I was going to do more, so I ended-up doing walks around places like Wapping and the River Westbourne. It seemed like everyone who came along to these walks kept coming back, so it was a bit like the old DIY thing where you’d get to know everyone else and they’re not just customers because you all become mates. We ended-up drinking together and it became a bit of a scene, so it’s developed really well.’
Did you already have an interested in the subject of ‘Lost Rivers’ before you wrote the book?
‘Yeah, I was quite interested in that sort of thing. After the success of ‘Derelict London’, I was having a chat with the publishers about other things I could do and I mentioned lost rivers. There had been a book published in the Sixties about the lost rivers of London, but there had been nothing since then. The well-known ones are probably the River Fleet and the River Westbourne, but there are also lots of canals and sewer systems, so the publishers became interested and it all came to fruition. I think there was a lot more interest in the subject than we had even imagined. People who are interested in the history of London know that it’s a River City but don’t realise that there are so many buried rivers, so they became interested in what they are now and how to spot the clues. There are lots of road names, or even the names of certain areas, which derive from the old rivers… Hollow Bourne gave us Holborn, and obviously Fleet Street came from the River Fleet.’
‘Oh yeah… I was with a publisher at the time, Penguin/Random House, and ‘Derelict London’ was a great success. I was starting to talk to them about another book, this time about lost rivers and canals. They mentioned that someone at Waterstones had suggested that I should do some guided walks to tie-in with the books. I didn’t know if anyone would be interested in that, but we decided to include an email address in the new book so that people could get in touch if they might be interested in joining a guided walk with me. To my surprise, I got loads and loads of emails so I started doing these guided walks for places like the lost River Fleet and the Surrey canal from Peckham to Rotherhithe… A lot of people who came along to those started asking if I was going to do more, so I ended-up doing walks around places like Wapping and the River Westbourne. It seemed like everyone who came along to these walks kept coming back, so it was a bit like the old DIY thing where you’d get to know everyone else and they’re not just customers because you all become mates. We ended-up drinking together and it became a bit of a scene, so it’s developed really well.’
Did you already have an interested in the subject of ‘Lost Rivers’ before you wrote the book?
‘Yeah, I was quite interested in that sort of thing. After the success of ‘Derelict London’, I was having a chat with the publishers about other things I could do and I mentioned lost rivers. There had been a book published in the Sixties about the lost rivers of London, but there had been nothing since then. The well-known ones are probably the River Fleet and the River Westbourne, but there are also lots of canals and sewer systems, so the publishers became interested and it all came to fruition. I think there was a lot more interest in the subject than we had even imagined. People who are interested in the history of London know that it’s a River City but don’t realise that there are so many buried rivers, so they became interested in what they are now and how to spot the clues. There are lots of road names, or even the names of certain areas, which derive from the old rivers… Hollow Bourne gave us Holborn, and obviously Fleet Street came from the River Fleet.’
The subject of lost rivers often gets mixed-up with mysticism and ley-lines etc. Was that something you were interested in at all?
‘Not really… I’ve always been more interested in the factual side of it. For me, it was looking through loads of old maps and comparing them with modern ones, to see where these places had been. Also, checking out maps of Thames Water sewers, to see how some of these places had been replaced. That’s what really caught my interest. I liked being able to walk down a street, taking photographs of these places as they are now and being able to say, this used to be a river…’
In recent times there have also been writers like Iain Sinclair and Stewart Home who have been interested in the ‘psychogeography’ of London, which also crosses over into the things you’ve been writing about…
‘Funnily enough, I did an interview quite a few years ago and they mentioned ‘psychogeography’, which wasn’t something that I really knew about at the time. It’s not a term that I’d really heard much until the last decade or so. I decided to look it up and when I did, I found references to Iain Sinclair, Will Self and me! That was a bit of a surprise… But later on, I did a radio broadcast on Radio Four with Iain Sinclair and he seemed to be a nice bloke, so it’s a bit of a small world, I suppose. I remember thinking, he’s a bit of a serious writer so I won’t take a book along to get it signed, but when we met, the first thing he did was pull a copy of my book out of his bag and ask me to sign it! While we were talking, he asked me if the BBC had sent a car to pick me up and I said, no, I didn’t want to take the piss so I caught a bus. He looked at me and said, ‘Oh no, you should always take everything they offer you, mate!’
There are lots of buildings and places that have a real significance within their surrounding communities, but it seems like a most people don’t realise this until they are gone…
‘Well, at the moment the big thing is the loss of pubs. I often get emails from people talking about these places where perhaps they met their wife, or maybe certain famous bands played there… Unfortunately, I don’t think you realise how important a place like that can be when you’re younger, because you’re just meeting your mates and thinking, this is a reasonable place… But they can play a very important part in people’s lives and there’s so many of them that have never been documented. That said, I think it’s a bit different now because people have their camera-phones and can take photographs of everything and post it on to social-media straightaway. Twenty years ago, that wasn’t something you could do and that’s how it was when I started thinking I should do something. I didn’t know if there was a real need for it, but it was something that I had a passion to do, so that’s why I’ve found ways to carry-on doing it.’
‘Not really… I’ve always been more interested in the factual side of it. For me, it was looking through loads of old maps and comparing them with modern ones, to see where these places had been. Also, checking out maps of Thames Water sewers, to see how some of these places had been replaced. That’s what really caught my interest. I liked being able to walk down a street, taking photographs of these places as they are now and being able to say, this used to be a river…’
In recent times there have also been writers like Iain Sinclair and Stewart Home who have been interested in the ‘psychogeography’ of London, which also crosses over into the things you’ve been writing about…
‘Funnily enough, I did an interview quite a few years ago and they mentioned ‘psychogeography’, which wasn’t something that I really knew about at the time. It’s not a term that I’d really heard much until the last decade or so. I decided to look it up and when I did, I found references to Iain Sinclair, Will Self and me! That was a bit of a surprise… But later on, I did a radio broadcast on Radio Four with Iain Sinclair and he seemed to be a nice bloke, so it’s a bit of a small world, I suppose. I remember thinking, he’s a bit of a serious writer so I won’t take a book along to get it signed, but when we met, the first thing he did was pull a copy of my book out of his bag and ask me to sign it! While we were talking, he asked me if the BBC had sent a car to pick me up and I said, no, I didn’t want to take the piss so I caught a bus. He looked at me and said, ‘Oh no, you should always take everything they offer you, mate!’
There are lots of buildings and places that have a real significance within their surrounding communities, but it seems like a most people don’t realise this until they are gone…
‘Well, at the moment the big thing is the loss of pubs. I often get emails from people talking about these places where perhaps they met their wife, or maybe certain famous bands played there… Unfortunately, I don’t think you realise how important a place like that can be when you’re younger, because you’re just meeting your mates and thinking, this is a reasonable place… But they can play a very important part in people’s lives and there’s so many of them that have never been documented. That said, I think it’s a bit different now because people have their camera-phones and can take photographs of everything and post it on to social-media straightaway. Twenty years ago, that wasn’t something you could do and that’s how it was when I started thinking I should do something. I didn’t know if there was a real need for it, but it was something that I had a passion to do, so that’s why I’ve found ways to carry-on doing it.’
When did you first get the idea to do a book about ‘Lost Music Venues’?
‘I’d had the idea for a few years and I’d first put a section about lost venues on to one of my websites. I already had a lot of photos so it was really just the case of getting around to doing a book. I’d been taking photos of what these old venues are now, so I had a lot of material. Penguin/Random House had been very happy doing the ‘Derelict London’ and ‘Lost Rivers’ books, but they weren’t really enthusiastic about publishing a lost venues book and as time went on, I still couldn’t get them interested in the subject. I had all the ideas ready for it, but it wasn’t going any further until I started talking to Ian at Damaged Goods about it. He was a lot more interested in doing it, but the problem was that I didn’t know if I was still under-contract with Penguin. He got in touch with them and had some discussions. It turned out that they wanted to do another ‘Derelict London’ book, so we came to the agreement that if I did that with them, they’d be happy for me to go and do the ‘Lost Venues’ books with Damaged Goods. I think they just thought that a lost venues book would be too much of a niche thing for them, although I didn’t really agree with that. I think if they had got behind it, the books would have been even more successful than they have been, but they wouldn’t go for it. I won’t knock them at all, because they made some really good decisions along the way and they’ve been really good for me. But I think, in the end, I’ve had more fun doing the ‘Lost Venues’ books with Damaged Goods because we’ve known each other for years and it was something that we were both interested in. And that’s a big part of it, really.
How did you track down all the venues for the books? Some were obviously well-known and their locations can be found pretty easily, but you’ve also included some pretty obscure pubs and clubs that were operating back in the Fifties and Sixties. Those kind of places would have been ‘before-your-time’, so how did you even find-out about them?
‘Well, the first thing I decided when I started to plan the books was that I was only going to include places that were within the M25, as that kind of serves as the ‘city walls’ for London in the modern day. Once I started with that in mind, I was obviously going to include places like The Roxy and The Marquee, which everyone talks about, including myself. But there are also loads of other places, like the Royal Standard in Walthamstow or the Sir George Robey. These were places that still get mentioned in conversations, but they just weren’t properly covered anywhere so I had to spend a lot of time in the British Library going through the old music papers, looking up the listings for various places. Then there were other things that I could look up, like the Granada Cinema circuit, or local newspapers from different parts of London, to see if they had any listings for the clubs and venues in their area, whether it be Croydon or Romford or Orpington. It was a case of finding what clubs were in which areas and then digging a bit deeper. With some bands, the ones that became more successful, it was even worth reading through their biographies and making notes of any snippets I could find in them. Bands like the Rolling Stones were playing everywhere back in the early Sixties. I found out that they’d been playing at the ABC in Romford on the night when they driving back through Forest Gate and got arrested for urinating on the forecourt of a petrol station! Back then, bands would play live as much as they could, sometimes twice in the same day, and that’s how people like the Stones, The Who and Jimi Hendrix became so good… And they would’ve been getting paid decent money for those gigs, whereas later on, in the Eighties and Nineties, young bands were lucky to get paid anything and some places even adopted ‘pay-to-play’ schemes… But I was able to find stories about the bands and where they played in whatever biographies I could find and in some cases I was even able to speak to people who had been there at the time. My personal contacts are mainly from the Seventies, Eighties and Nineties, when I was going to lots of gigs, but then I’d meet people when I was doing the walks and it would turn-out that they had been to some of these places, or perhaps they had friends or relatives that were actually in some of these bands. So I was also able to get snippets from people like that and it was really a case of building things up from those stories.’
‘I’d had the idea for a few years and I’d first put a section about lost venues on to one of my websites. I already had a lot of photos so it was really just the case of getting around to doing a book. I’d been taking photos of what these old venues are now, so I had a lot of material. Penguin/Random House had been very happy doing the ‘Derelict London’ and ‘Lost Rivers’ books, but they weren’t really enthusiastic about publishing a lost venues book and as time went on, I still couldn’t get them interested in the subject. I had all the ideas ready for it, but it wasn’t going any further until I started talking to Ian at Damaged Goods about it. He was a lot more interested in doing it, but the problem was that I didn’t know if I was still under-contract with Penguin. He got in touch with them and had some discussions. It turned out that they wanted to do another ‘Derelict London’ book, so we came to the agreement that if I did that with them, they’d be happy for me to go and do the ‘Lost Venues’ books with Damaged Goods. I think they just thought that a lost venues book would be too much of a niche thing for them, although I didn’t really agree with that. I think if they had got behind it, the books would have been even more successful than they have been, but they wouldn’t go for it. I won’t knock them at all, because they made some really good decisions along the way and they’ve been really good for me. But I think, in the end, I’ve had more fun doing the ‘Lost Venues’ books with Damaged Goods because we’ve known each other for years and it was something that we were both interested in. And that’s a big part of it, really.
How did you track down all the venues for the books? Some were obviously well-known and their locations can be found pretty easily, but you’ve also included some pretty obscure pubs and clubs that were operating back in the Fifties and Sixties. Those kind of places would have been ‘before-your-time’, so how did you even find-out about them?
‘Well, the first thing I decided when I started to plan the books was that I was only going to include places that were within the M25, as that kind of serves as the ‘city walls’ for London in the modern day. Once I started with that in mind, I was obviously going to include places like The Roxy and The Marquee, which everyone talks about, including myself. But there are also loads of other places, like the Royal Standard in Walthamstow or the Sir George Robey. These were places that still get mentioned in conversations, but they just weren’t properly covered anywhere so I had to spend a lot of time in the British Library going through the old music papers, looking up the listings for various places. Then there were other things that I could look up, like the Granada Cinema circuit, or local newspapers from different parts of London, to see if they had any listings for the clubs and venues in their area, whether it be Croydon or Romford or Orpington. It was a case of finding what clubs were in which areas and then digging a bit deeper. With some bands, the ones that became more successful, it was even worth reading through their biographies and making notes of any snippets I could find in them. Bands like the Rolling Stones were playing everywhere back in the early Sixties. I found out that they’d been playing at the ABC in Romford on the night when they driving back through Forest Gate and got arrested for urinating on the forecourt of a petrol station! Back then, bands would play live as much as they could, sometimes twice in the same day, and that’s how people like the Stones, The Who and Jimi Hendrix became so good… And they would’ve been getting paid decent money for those gigs, whereas later on, in the Eighties and Nineties, young bands were lucky to get paid anything and some places even adopted ‘pay-to-play’ schemes… But I was able to find stories about the bands and where they played in whatever biographies I could find and in some cases I was even able to speak to people who had been there at the time. My personal contacts are mainly from the Seventies, Eighties and Nineties, when I was going to lots of gigs, but then I’d meet people when I was doing the walks and it would turn-out that they had been to some of these places, or perhaps they had friends or relatives that were actually in some of these bands. So I was also able to get snippets from people like that and it was really a case of building things up from those stories.’
When you first started compiling details of all the ‘lost venues’, were you surprised by just how many have disappeared?
‘Oh yeah, especially as I was going all the way back to the Fifties. There were places that I really didn’t know much about, but I loved doing the research for all of them. There were places that my Mum used to talk about… She used to go to places like the 100 Club, back when it was still called the London Jazz Club. But when I write about these places, or when we have a walking tour of the lost venues around Soho, I don’t like to get mournful about what’s happened to them because I think it should be more like a celebration of what they were and what happened there. In fact, I always like to end the walking tours by going to a pub with everyone and having a few drinks with them. But the last time I did a walking tour around Soho, I suggested that instead of going to a pub perhaps we could go to a gig at one of the old venues that’s still there. So we all went down to the 100 Club and saw an American band, The Darts, which was fantastic. I’ve been going to that venue since the Eighties and I love the fact that it’s hardly changed, which is one of the things that a lot of people love about it. And they still cover all the different genres… there’s old gits playing there as well as young bands, Blues bands, Mod bands, Punk bands, Northern Soul nights… They’re definitely not a venue who are just happy to cash-in on things that happened there in the past, because they’re still keen to put-on stuff that’s happening right now. It’s not like the way things happened with The Marquee… you had the very first one on Oxford Street, which was open from 1958 to 1964 and then the second one down on Wardour Street, which was open for the next 24 years and is probably the most famous one, before it moved over to Charing Cross Road. I still enjoyed it there and saw some great bands at that place, but if you mention it on Facebook or whatever you’ll have people telling you that it was never as good as the one on Wardour Street…Anyway, that place is now a pub and it has a sign which says that it was the last home of The Marquee, but it wasn’t! There were another three locations after that! And it also has all these posters of famous bands who played at The Marquee, but when you check them-out, they’re all bands that played at the Wardour Street location! It really doesn’t make sense because there were plenty of famous bands who did play at the Charing Cross Road venue… Alice Cooper, Kiss, Jane’s Addiction, Soundgarden… but none of them are even mentioned in the pub!’
Some of the lesser known venues have since become almost legendary, for various reasons. The Sir George Robey almost deserves a book in its’ own right, as aside from it’s less-than desirable reputation as a venue, it actually did host some amazing gigs over the years…
‘Exactly! People are still talking about those bloody toilets! Anyone who ever went there seems to have a story about the shit or the piss at the Robey! Or maybe the dodgy bouncers… But it was a great gig, because everyone knew where it was and it was easy to get there as it was so close to the tube station. They also had a decent PA and backline in there, which made it a lot easier for the bands. But even aside from the state of the toilets, you’d also have loads of the smelly, dog-on-a-rope brigade loitering around, trying to steal your beer if you put it down for a minute. A lot of them wouldn’t even pay to get in, they’d just sit outside on the pavement drinking cheap cans of cider from the Off License across the road! You could never replicate that place… not that you’d ever want to! But it actually had quite a long and interesting history. It had originally been a pub called The Clarence from the 1870’s and wasn’t re-named until the Sixties. George Robey himself was a music-hall comedian, but he also played football and was signed to Millwall, back when they were based on the Isle of Dogs. He was already a bit of a celebrity so he didn’t have to play football, but he just loved the sport. He was eventually knighted in recognition of his Charity work during the First and Second World Wars… I’ve read that he raised over £2,000,000 for charity during his lifetime! Anyway, the venue itself was a great place for gigs, even though you’d go there sometimes and it would be so smelly. The only place I can think-of that’s anything like the Robey now, would be The Birds Nest in Deptford, although it’s nowhere near as bad. But there’s definitely a few touches of The Robey down there… Actually, there’s a few venues in London at the moment that are really let-down by the state of their toilets and I’ve never understood why otherwise really nice venues would let their toilets get in to such a state. It just doesn’t make sense.’
‘Oh yeah, especially as I was going all the way back to the Fifties. There were places that I really didn’t know much about, but I loved doing the research for all of them. There were places that my Mum used to talk about… She used to go to places like the 100 Club, back when it was still called the London Jazz Club. But when I write about these places, or when we have a walking tour of the lost venues around Soho, I don’t like to get mournful about what’s happened to them because I think it should be more like a celebration of what they were and what happened there. In fact, I always like to end the walking tours by going to a pub with everyone and having a few drinks with them. But the last time I did a walking tour around Soho, I suggested that instead of going to a pub perhaps we could go to a gig at one of the old venues that’s still there. So we all went down to the 100 Club and saw an American band, The Darts, which was fantastic. I’ve been going to that venue since the Eighties and I love the fact that it’s hardly changed, which is one of the things that a lot of people love about it. And they still cover all the different genres… there’s old gits playing there as well as young bands, Blues bands, Mod bands, Punk bands, Northern Soul nights… They’re definitely not a venue who are just happy to cash-in on things that happened there in the past, because they’re still keen to put-on stuff that’s happening right now. It’s not like the way things happened with The Marquee… you had the very first one on Oxford Street, which was open from 1958 to 1964 and then the second one down on Wardour Street, which was open for the next 24 years and is probably the most famous one, before it moved over to Charing Cross Road. I still enjoyed it there and saw some great bands at that place, but if you mention it on Facebook or whatever you’ll have people telling you that it was never as good as the one on Wardour Street…Anyway, that place is now a pub and it has a sign which says that it was the last home of The Marquee, but it wasn’t! There were another three locations after that! And it also has all these posters of famous bands who played at The Marquee, but when you check them-out, they’re all bands that played at the Wardour Street location! It really doesn’t make sense because there were plenty of famous bands who did play at the Charing Cross Road venue… Alice Cooper, Kiss, Jane’s Addiction, Soundgarden… but none of them are even mentioned in the pub!’
Some of the lesser known venues have since become almost legendary, for various reasons. The Sir George Robey almost deserves a book in its’ own right, as aside from it’s less-than desirable reputation as a venue, it actually did host some amazing gigs over the years…
‘Exactly! People are still talking about those bloody toilets! Anyone who ever went there seems to have a story about the shit or the piss at the Robey! Or maybe the dodgy bouncers… But it was a great gig, because everyone knew where it was and it was easy to get there as it was so close to the tube station. They also had a decent PA and backline in there, which made it a lot easier for the bands. But even aside from the state of the toilets, you’d also have loads of the smelly, dog-on-a-rope brigade loitering around, trying to steal your beer if you put it down for a minute. A lot of them wouldn’t even pay to get in, they’d just sit outside on the pavement drinking cheap cans of cider from the Off License across the road! You could never replicate that place… not that you’d ever want to! But it actually had quite a long and interesting history. It had originally been a pub called The Clarence from the 1870’s and wasn’t re-named until the Sixties. George Robey himself was a music-hall comedian, but he also played football and was signed to Millwall, back when they were based on the Isle of Dogs. He was already a bit of a celebrity so he didn’t have to play football, but he just loved the sport. He was eventually knighted in recognition of his Charity work during the First and Second World Wars… I’ve read that he raised over £2,000,000 for charity during his lifetime! Anyway, the venue itself was a great place for gigs, even though you’d go there sometimes and it would be so smelly. The only place I can think-of that’s anything like the Robey now, would be The Birds Nest in Deptford, although it’s nowhere near as bad. But there’s definitely a few touches of The Robey down there… Actually, there’s a few venues in London at the moment that are really let-down by the state of their toilets and I’ve never understood why otherwise really nice venues would let their toilets get in to such a state. It just doesn’t make sense.’
One of the strange things I’ve noticed is how quite a few of the larger venues have since been converted into churches…
‘Yeah, actually that was something I noticed more while I was working on the second book. There are those great big ones opposite each other down in Woolwich, the Odeon/Coronet and the Granada. One is now a church and the other one is a cathedral! And the same thing happened to The Rainbow, Kilburn National and the Gaumont State in Kilburn. Then there are other venues that have been changed into Bingo Halls and there’s one place up in Harrow that’s been changed in to a Gym! Even The Lyceum is only a theatre now. But I guess it’s a case that those places were massive, so what else can you do with them if the promoters aren’t interested anymore? These Gospel churches will fill the places up even if it isn’t something we’d be interested in, and at least it means that the original sites are still there, which again is something I realised when I was doing the second book.
Why do you think that so few venues are ever commemorated in any way?
‘Well, The Roxy has a blue plaque now, although that was only recently. There’s also one at the site of the Marquee in Wardour Street, but it’s actually dedicated to Keith Moon rather than the venue. Which is odd because you could have a plaque for Keith Moon virtually anywhere in London. They could just as well have done it at The Ship pub, which is only a few doors down from there. The same thing seems to have happened in Camden, where the only tributes you seem to see are for Amy Winehouse or Madness, which is fair enough I suppose. But there’s a lot more to Camden than Amy Winehouse and Madness. As far as the blue plaques go, I only know of one other for a venue, which is for the old Ealing Club down in West London, where they hosted people like Alexis Corner and early Stones gigs… But unfortunately in most cases, even places that were quite important or famous at the time have just been erased.’
What do you think about the situation with venues around London at the moment? There’s does seem to have been a decline in the number of places where new bands can play in recent years…
‘Yeah, there does and I could put a real downer on everything, especially when I’m doing the tours. But as I was saying earlier, even though we have lost a lot of places, we should celebrate them. If you still enjoy live music, there are some great places that remain open, so you should go along and support them. I mean, if you walk around Camden and Kentish Town, it’s easy to moan because we’ve lost places like The Tally Ho, the Bull & Gate, The Falcon and so on, but we’ve still got the Dublin Castle, the Fiddlers Elbow, the Underworld and newer places like The Black Heart. Even The Good Mixer has bands playing on Saturday afternoons, so there’s always something going on. And there are new venues opening up in other parts of London, like The Escape down in Shepherds Bush or The Cavern down in Raynes Park and they’re putting-on a lot of new bands in these places. They may have a lot of cover bands and stuff like that, but they also promote a lot of new stuffl. I think, especially after the lockdowns, we’ve just got to get out there again and find out where these things are happening now.’
‘Yeah, actually that was something I noticed more while I was working on the second book. There are those great big ones opposite each other down in Woolwich, the Odeon/Coronet and the Granada. One is now a church and the other one is a cathedral! And the same thing happened to The Rainbow, Kilburn National and the Gaumont State in Kilburn. Then there are other venues that have been changed into Bingo Halls and there’s one place up in Harrow that’s been changed in to a Gym! Even The Lyceum is only a theatre now. But I guess it’s a case that those places were massive, so what else can you do with them if the promoters aren’t interested anymore? These Gospel churches will fill the places up even if it isn’t something we’d be interested in, and at least it means that the original sites are still there, which again is something I realised when I was doing the second book.
Why do you think that so few venues are ever commemorated in any way?
‘Well, The Roxy has a blue plaque now, although that was only recently. There’s also one at the site of the Marquee in Wardour Street, but it’s actually dedicated to Keith Moon rather than the venue. Which is odd because you could have a plaque for Keith Moon virtually anywhere in London. They could just as well have done it at The Ship pub, which is only a few doors down from there. The same thing seems to have happened in Camden, where the only tributes you seem to see are for Amy Winehouse or Madness, which is fair enough I suppose. But there’s a lot more to Camden than Amy Winehouse and Madness. As far as the blue plaques go, I only know of one other for a venue, which is for the old Ealing Club down in West London, where they hosted people like Alexis Corner and early Stones gigs… But unfortunately in most cases, even places that were quite important or famous at the time have just been erased.’
What do you think about the situation with venues around London at the moment? There’s does seem to have been a decline in the number of places where new bands can play in recent years…
‘Yeah, there does and I could put a real downer on everything, especially when I’m doing the tours. But as I was saying earlier, even though we have lost a lot of places, we should celebrate them. If you still enjoy live music, there are some great places that remain open, so you should go along and support them. I mean, if you walk around Camden and Kentish Town, it’s easy to moan because we’ve lost places like The Tally Ho, the Bull & Gate, The Falcon and so on, but we’ve still got the Dublin Castle, the Fiddlers Elbow, the Underworld and newer places like The Black Heart. Even The Good Mixer has bands playing on Saturday afternoons, so there’s always something going on. And there are new venues opening up in other parts of London, like The Escape down in Shepherds Bush or The Cavern down in Raynes Park and they’re putting-on a lot of new bands in these places. They may have a lot of cover bands and stuff like that, but they also promote a lot of new stuffl. I think, especially after the lockdowns, we’ve just got to get out there again and find out where these things are happening now.’
One thing that I find particularly odd is that there aren’t as many college venues being used for live music on a regular basis these days. Why do you think that is?
‘It just seems as if there aren’t so many students who are passionate about music nowadays. They seem to be more interested in their courses and maybe working in their spare time to pay their bills, so they haven’t got as much time for music these days. Student Grants used to cover everything for them and the Student Unions used to get decent budgets to organise events and put bands on, but I don’t think that happens anymore. I’m sure you could find some colleges in other parts of the country that still put bands on, but certainly not on the same scale as they used to. Strangely, there were some places like ULU that weren’t just used by the Student Union for gigs and they’d have outside-promoters booking things there, but even that doesn’t seem to happen very often anymore. Which is odd because you’d think that would be a good way for the college to raise money. But everything seems to have tightened up. I remember when, even if there wasn’t a gig on, you could still wander in to the Students Bar at ULU to get a cheap drink, but now they have security on the doors and you can’t get in without ID. It’s weird because you would think if they had gigs there and let the likes of us drink in the bars, that would be helping them to raise funds so they could do more stuff.’
There are some cases of venues that close down, sometimes for quite a long time, and then reopen some time later (good examples being The Roundhouse and the Hope & Anchor…) Does this happen very often?
‘No, not very often. When places get closed down, it’s usually because they aren’t financially viable anymore, or they’re going to be redeveloped into something else. Not many have come back from the dead, although I can think of a few. There’s the Newlands Tavern down in Peckham, which has changed its’ name to The Ivy House. It has bands playing there again and books a really mixed range of stuff, but places like that are few and far between. In those kind of cases, it’s not just whether the venues are there but also whether there are promoters who are willing to do it.’
You did feature a few of the squat venues from the early-Eighties Anarcho-punk scene, but there were others which were often very short-lived and tended to advertise gigs by word-of-mouth rather than in the regular music press. I expect a lot of those places would have been difficult to research properly…
‘Well, I did include the Ambulance Station, which was on the Old Kent Road, and The Dolehouse in Peckham, as they were both pretty-well organised for a time. I also included the Autonomy Centre in Wapping, which had a lot of gigs but didn’t last very long. Crass and Poison Girls managed to raise quite a bit of money to help set it up, fixing the toilets and putting a decent PA in there. But with it being an Anarchist Centre, they were no rules so kids would come along to the gigs and, as there was no security, they’d smash it all up. Unfortunately, it was a victim of its’ own good intentions. The Ambulance Station probably lasted the longest, but it was always a very tense, hostile place, especially as the Thomas A Becket pub was just a few doors away, full of Millwall fans, boxers and skinheads. So they had frequent problems down there, even though it wasn’t just punk bands being booked to play. They put on gigs by early versions of Pulp, Primal Scream, the Stereo MCs (when they were still called Scatter) and even Bjork when she was in a band called Kukl. There was always a good mix of stuff, but you’d always be watching your back because of the skinheads from along the road… The main problem with a lot of the squat venues was that they were very short-lived and it’s difficult to find out almost anything about them now. Like, Crass and others squatted the former ZigZag Club to hold an all-day gig, but that was literally just one weekend. That event was quite big and well-known but most of the small squat venues have disappeared without trace.’
‘It just seems as if there aren’t so many students who are passionate about music nowadays. They seem to be more interested in their courses and maybe working in their spare time to pay their bills, so they haven’t got as much time for music these days. Student Grants used to cover everything for them and the Student Unions used to get decent budgets to organise events and put bands on, but I don’t think that happens anymore. I’m sure you could find some colleges in other parts of the country that still put bands on, but certainly not on the same scale as they used to. Strangely, there were some places like ULU that weren’t just used by the Student Union for gigs and they’d have outside-promoters booking things there, but even that doesn’t seem to happen very often anymore. Which is odd because you’d think that would be a good way for the college to raise money. But everything seems to have tightened up. I remember when, even if there wasn’t a gig on, you could still wander in to the Students Bar at ULU to get a cheap drink, but now they have security on the doors and you can’t get in without ID. It’s weird because you would think if they had gigs there and let the likes of us drink in the bars, that would be helping them to raise funds so they could do more stuff.’
There are some cases of venues that close down, sometimes for quite a long time, and then reopen some time later (good examples being The Roundhouse and the Hope & Anchor…) Does this happen very often?
‘No, not very often. When places get closed down, it’s usually because they aren’t financially viable anymore, or they’re going to be redeveloped into something else. Not many have come back from the dead, although I can think of a few. There’s the Newlands Tavern down in Peckham, which has changed its’ name to The Ivy House. It has bands playing there again and books a really mixed range of stuff, but places like that are few and far between. In those kind of cases, it’s not just whether the venues are there but also whether there are promoters who are willing to do it.’
You did feature a few of the squat venues from the early-Eighties Anarcho-punk scene, but there were others which were often very short-lived and tended to advertise gigs by word-of-mouth rather than in the regular music press. I expect a lot of those places would have been difficult to research properly…
‘Well, I did include the Ambulance Station, which was on the Old Kent Road, and The Dolehouse in Peckham, as they were both pretty-well organised for a time. I also included the Autonomy Centre in Wapping, which had a lot of gigs but didn’t last very long. Crass and Poison Girls managed to raise quite a bit of money to help set it up, fixing the toilets and putting a decent PA in there. But with it being an Anarchist Centre, they were no rules so kids would come along to the gigs and, as there was no security, they’d smash it all up. Unfortunately, it was a victim of its’ own good intentions. The Ambulance Station probably lasted the longest, but it was always a very tense, hostile place, especially as the Thomas A Becket pub was just a few doors away, full of Millwall fans, boxers and skinheads. So they had frequent problems down there, even though it wasn’t just punk bands being booked to play. They put on gigs by early versions of Pulp, Primal Scream, the Stereo MCs (when they were still called Scatter) and even Bjork when she was in a band called Kukl. There was always a good mix of stuff, but you’d always be watching your back because of the skinheads from along the road… The main problem with a lot of the squat venues was that they were very short-lived and it’s difficult to find out almost anything about them now. Like, Crass and others squatted the former ZigZag Club to hold an all-day gig, but that was literally just one weekend. That event was quite big and well-known but most of the small squat venues have disappeared without trace.’
Off all the venues that you’ve been to, still open or now departed, which have been your personal favourites?
‘Well, of the ones that are still open, it has to be the 100 Club, although I also go to New Cross Inn a lot these days, which I really like. And I still really enjoy gigs at The Lexington and the Dublin Castle. As for the ones that have gone and I really miss… The Sir George Robey, whether you love it or loathe it! And I’m going to be a bit controversial here, but I really had some great nights at The Marquee when it was in Charing Cross Road. I can understand why people say it was only a shadow of its’ predecessor in Wardour Street, but really, they were very different venues and if you were into your music, it continued to be a real destination in the West End. The 12 Bar Club on Denmark Street was always a great place as was the Metro on Oxford Street. Then, in North London, you had the Bull & Gate and The Falcon for all of the Indie bands and in West London, the Clarendon was always great, as was Fulham Greyhound. I’d always have a good time in those places.’
I know you’re keeping very busy with your Walking Tours, but are you planning for another book yet? And do you think there’s ever likely to be another volume of ‘ London’s Lost Music Venues’?
‘It’s not something that I’m thinking about at the moment. I’d have to wait to see if any other venues close down, but at the same time I’d prefer not to see that happening. There are some venues that I know I haven’t included in either of the books, like The Black Horse in Camden as one example, but I wouldn’t want to do a book that was only going to appeal to a really niche audience. I have thought that we could do a coffee-table version of both books, mixed with some more venues that weren’t included in the original volumes. And if we can find something appropriate, maybe include a 7” single. That idea has been thrown around, but I wouldn’t want to do it too soon. Maybe five years or so from now… But in the meantime, I’ll continue with the Derelict London website and carry on doing the walks because I love doing them. I’ve also started to work on a new book about the Lost Record Shops of London, so that will probably be my next publication. But I don’t want it just to be about the record shops, because I think there was always something more about those places. The whole community side of things and the way that they became meeting places for people who were into the same things. Plus, a lot of those record shops also became the launch pads for record labels, from Small Wonder in Walthamstow to Rock On in Camden, which launched Chiswick Records. It goes on and not just on the punky/indie side of things. They covered reggae and soul, and all the way up to Rave. There’s so much stuff to cover but it might be a bit difficult to find material because how many people took photo’s of record shops? It would also be great to find the old record bags from those shops, if anyone still has them. So it’s something I’m starting to work on, slowly. The other obvious subject would be ‘Lost Pubs’, but I think that would be such a big subject I’d hardly know where to start. I’ve got hundreds of photos of derelict pubs that I haven’t even managed to put on my website, yet, so I’ll have to sort-out that before I even start thinking about a book. But it’s something I can do in my own time so when I get the chance to do it, I’ll have to see what else I can do with that subject.’
‘Well, of the ones that are still open, it has to be the 100 Club, although I also go to New Cross Inn a lot these days, which I really like. And I still really enjoy gigs at The Lexington and the Dublin Castle. As for the ones that have gone and I really miss… The Sir George Robey, whether you love it or loathe it! And I’m going to be a bit controversial here, but I really had some great nights at The Marquee when it was in Charing Cross Road. I can understand why people say it was only a shadow of its’ predecessor in Wardour Street, but really, they were very different venues and if you were into your music, it continued to be a real destination in the West End. The 12 Bar Club on Denmark Street was always a great place as was the Metro on Oxford Street. Then, in North London, you had the Bull & Gate and The Falcon for all of the Indie bands and in West London, the Clarendon was always great, as was Fulham Greyhound. I’d always have a good time in those places.’
I know you’re keeping very busy with your Walking Tours, but are you planning for another book yet? And do you think there’s ever likely to be another volume of ‘ London’s Lost Music Venues’?
‘It’s not something that I’m thinking about at the moment. I’d have to wait to see if any other venues close down, but at the same time I’d prefer not to see that happening. There are some venues that I know I haven’t included in either of the books, like The Black Horse in Camden as one example, but I wouldn’t want to do a book that was only going to appeal to a really niche audience. I have thought that we could do a coffee-table version of both books, mixed with some more venues that weren’t included in the original volumes. And if we can find something appropriate, maybe include a 7” single. That idea has been thrown around, but I wouldn’t want to do it too soon. Maybe five years or so from now… But in the meantime, I’ll continue with the Derelict London website and carry on doing the walks because I love doing them. I’ve also started to work on a new book about the Lost Record Shops of London, so that will probably be my next publication. But I don’t want it just to be about the record shops, because I think there was always something more about those places. The whole community side of things and the way that they became meeting places for people who were into the same things. Plus, a lot of those record shops also became the launch pads for record labels, from Small Wonder in Walthamstow to Rock On in Camden, which launched Chiswick Records. It goes on and not just on the punky/indie side of things. They covered reggae and soul, and all the way up to Rave. There’s so much stuff to cover but it might be a bit difficult to find material because how many people took photo’s of record shops? It would also be great to find the old record bags from those shops, if anyone still has them. So it’s something I’m starting to work on, slowly. The other obvious subject would be ‘Lost Pubs’, but I think that would be such a big subject I’d hardly know where to start. I’ve got hundreds of photos of derelict pubs that I haven’t even managed to put on my website, yet, so I’ll have to sort-out that before I even start thinking about a book. But it’s something I can do in my own time so when I get the chance to do it, I’ll have to see what else I can do with that subject.’
All of Pauls’ books are easily available on the internet, but in view of the subject-matter you really ought to order them from your local bookshop, before they start disappearing too! In the meantime you can obtain further information from these website ;