Release...

I was going to trace my punk career through my managers, but I am going to jump straight to Manager No. 2, Andy Dayman. This is a sad day for me as I have just received the news that Andy has passed away in Los Angeles. Today's blog is entitled 'Release' because Andy has been seriously ill for some time and has thus been released from his suffering, but also because it was Andy who rescued the languishing masters of Halfway To Venezuela and Marmalade Freak and negotiated a distribution deal with Spartan Records for me in 1980, thus releasing suffering onto the listening public! (In the Ruts Glee Club, we traditionally fight crises with humour!)

Whilst on the topic of The Ruts Glee Club, I was for a while, around the time of 'Halfway's release, the notional secretary of said fan club, as part of my role as general factotum around the Ruts, or rather Andy's office, Dayman Promotions, sited at 323 Old Street, way before Hoxton was hip. I don't think Andy ever actually promoted anyone else out of that office except The Ruts and me, however. Andy was an inspirational figure in my life: we had a paradoxical relationship where, on one hand he would condone my (and of course The Ruts') outrageous antics on tour and stage, whilst on the other gently chastising them in a paternal fashion. When confronted on tour by irate hotel staff members with the remnants of a smashed standard lamp found stashed in the wardrobe, he memorably said: "No, it couldn't have been my boys", even though they were the ones that had spent the night in the room!

Whilst it was jolly sporting of Andy to give me some employment, as I had no income, but was on the run from the police and trying to give up shoplifting (the first of my addictions I successfully beat), it was rather foolhardy of me to take up his kind offer, as the CID man who was co-ordinating all the offences for which I hadn't served time, was stationed around the corner at Bishopsgate nick. So of course, lo and behold, one day Andy's out, I'm minding the office, and the 'phone rings, not an uncommon event in rock 'n' roll offices. 'Dayman Promotions', I said brightly into the receiver. A voice on the end asked for Andy Dayman. As I informed the male caller that he wasn't available, I realised with horror that I was talking to said CID man, who said he'd call back. I was forced to evacuate the office and flee by fleet foot and Northern Line to the Elephant, where the Ruts were rehearsing in the Sunday School studios. I arrived breathlessly and informed them that I'd had to leave their office unmanned; needless to say they understood and in due course Andy arrived and I put him in the picture. Now, at this time Andy had a beautiful sleek Doberman called Lucy, who really had a very placid nature. However, when Mr Bishopsgate CID came to call at the office a day or so later, Andy said she growled ferociously at him, whilst he tried unsuccessfully to calm her. If I know Andy, he would've been subtly trying to wind her up more, whilst giving the old bill the impression he was trying to placate her!

Around this same time, Rachel Howard, who designed the Auntie Pus logo, had printed up a select run of six Auntie Pus T-shirts, and Dave Ruffy (Rachel's partner at the time), being the sartorially elegant chap he still is, was sporting one of my, or should I say Rachel's, T-shirts one day. Well... Andy had an ex-business partner named Bob, with whom he'd been partners in a garage nearby in the City, and where Dave and Segs had worked before rising to the glitterati status they maintain to this day. On the day in question when Ruffy had the Pus T-shirt on, and soon after the incident related above, he happened to be having a cup of tea and a chin wag in the garage office when who should come in but some CID from Bishopsgate nick, admittedly on an unconnected enquiry, but Ruffy didn't know that at first. I still smile at the thought of Dave trying to discreetly clutch the lapels of his jacket together!

Despite mine and Segs' past achievements in igniting Transits etc., and my having just finished a lengthy, but generally very good biography of Gram Parsons, Segs & I are not going to fly to LA and steal Andy's body and drive it out to the Joshua Tree and burn it, as I don't think Andy's family would appreciate it any more than Gram Parsons' family did. I last saw Andy twice in the same fortnight in 2000, once at Segs' wedding in Fiji, and once en route there when I spent three days in LA, and went for a lovely Mexican meal with Andy - both were very happy occasions and beautiful memories. Andy was a special friend more than a manager and, if you were one of the lucky 800 or so people who actually went into a record shop in 1980 and bought a copy of Halfway To Venezuela, then don't just thank me, thank Andy Dayman.