In
the 50s and 60s common people didn't have the money to afford a
holiday and certainly not one abroad. My parents and their brothers
and sisters found a way to let their children have a change of
scenery anyway. My cousins, my sisters and I would be brought over to
the aunts and uncles so the children would spend some time together
and their parents would have some peace and quiet for weeks.
We
would mostly travel by train, my sisters and I would go to the north
of the country or to Amsterdam or Rotterdam. And the cousins who
lived over there would come and stay with us in exchange. The fact
that our house was quite full – there were eight of us living there
- was not a problem: my father would set up a tent on the lawn in the
back garden in which two children could sleep.
When
we were a bit older we were sent off by ourselves. My father worked
for the railroads and we were quite used to travelling, having a pass
that was valid in the whole country. Sometimes I would get on the
wrong train on purpose, to see something else than the normal route.
One
year my eldest sister and I were staying in the north again and we
got the pleasant surprise of a cousin who started his own band. We
were all in our early teens and there was a feeling everywhere of
young people that if you could play an instrument you could start up
a band. My cousin was a very serious young man, we always thought he
was forced into a sort of father role after loosing his father at a
young age. His brother who was only one year younger, was quite
rebellious in comparison. I could understand that he didn't see his
brother as his senior.
So
seeing the serious one of the two starting a band was a double
surprise for us. As always his preparations were very thorough. He
studied the music made by the Yardbirds and especially their guitar
player, Jeff Beck. Their music was quite a revelation to me: I was
very much into the Kinks, the Swinging Blue Jeans and the Dave Clark
Five much to the regret of my parents who considered all this new
music utter rubbish.
The
eldest cousin played lead guitar in the band, there was a drummer –
who forbade everybody to touch his kit – and a bass player. He was
more friendly, let me fool around on his bass guitar and even taught
me the chord progression of some blues tunes. Not very hard, I have
to admit. The last person in the band was the singer. He was a very
skinny boy, even skinnier than me, with a face that reminded me a bit
of a rat. My aunt – who was the friendliest person I ever met –
was friendly towards him, but she told us: “I don't really like
that boy. Somehow I don't trust him.”
So we
took great care not to let him near the bit of money we had taken
along and kept a close eye. It was very surprising when he one day
showed up to tell my cousin: “My mother doesn't allow me any more
to come over to your place.” He was asked why, but did not make
this clear. My sister and I thought that the reason could be that my
aunt's family never went to church or that she was considered to be a
bit posh. Her Dutch was perfect and very unlike the local dialect.
That was spoken too by the younger cousin, much to the regret of his
mother. But I don't think my aunt ever fitted in the very closed
community in which they lived but were not part of.
My
cousin now had a problem: he was planning to start doing gigs, but
without a singer that was impossible. He asked his brother, who only
had a good laugh. He asked me, but as a boy I was deadly shy, so no
way this was possible for me. My sister tried to sing some of the
songs, but didn't sound very bluesy. Normally she would belt out
songs while doing the dishes at home, but that would be songs of
Francoise Hardy, Dusty Springfield, France Gall and Sylvie Vartan. So
the style of the band didn't fit her and my cousin was realistic
enough to know that the distance to our home would be a problem. When
we went home to our parents again, there still was no new singer.
Eventually
a singer was found and according to the family in the north the Band
was the best band of the North. I never heard them play and it never
came to the making of a record.
This
was caused by the collapse of the band: my cousin met a nice girl and
joined forces with her to play in concerts for Youth for Christ. The electric guitar was exchanged for an acoustic one. A
very unexpected development to us.
The
next time the brothers came to stay with us he joined me to sleep in
the tent on the lawn. We had one night a deep conversation about the
end of the universe while looking at the starry sky and he assured me
that he would convert me to Christianity. I in turn assured him this
would never happen. And indeed I never joined that band either.
The
band was never mentioned afterwards and their former leader became a
teacher, later even became the headmaster of the school.
==============================================
