The Rockhouse Project

The Arrival of the 1990s

The club was open 3 nights a week: Tuesdays, Fridays and Saturdays. Friday was Pete Lawrence which was a disco night interrupted by the vocational band. Saturday we had 3 D.Js who worked in rotation: Paddy, Tiptoe Tony and Brian. Tuesdays was a free night of rock stuff with D.J. Nick Smith.

During this time I had been able to pay off my mortgage on my house in Alvaston and was looking to buy more properties, rather like most working class people did when they came into a little cash.

My girlfriend Liz was a student at the University of Derby. Her fellow students wanted to put on a party, I said they could have the club free but they must provide their own D.J.

It was a Thursday night and they got 200 in which was not bad. I was struck by the quality of the music played by the D.J. Mark Lesley. He played Ziggy Stardust by Bauhaus. This sounded good and a departure from the usual rock stuff that was being played.

I approached him and stuck 5 quid in his hand, I said I will give you 5 quid for every good tune you play. I think I ended up giving him 20 quid. I decided that with this D.J. I could try and break into the student market, so I offered him a regular Monday night. This was undoubtedly a pivotal moment for the club. We had got the reputation of being a greasy biker venue where you would get stabbed. This was not true but the media portrayed bikers in a bad light and we had to live with that.

Mark Lesley started his Monday night; it was massive. We got 300 in first night. We gave the students cheap beer, loud music played by a student who they knew.

I told Mark about the pirate radio we ran from the club. He thought this was good. He agreed to do a radio show calling himself Steve Wrong; it was on midday on Sundays. He played all the new indie bands. He did not like rockers, police or Thatcher. On his radio show he would find anti police and Thatcher stories, he would publicise demonstrations and basically reflect the atmosphere of unease with the right wing government we had at that time.

Several of Mark's friends started working at the club behind the bar. We were now getting 600 punters in on a Monday night. It was by far the biggest student night in the city.

The University of Derby Students union was run by Mat McGuiness. He was there from the days before it got university status. He had found himself a cushy number as president of the S.U. He did not like the idea of students going to our student night and not his poxy events.

He got a team of disciples working for him to remove our advertising. We used to put up a massive banner on two radio masts with guys opposite the uni every Monday. It was put up the night before and picked it up late Monday night. This banner suddenly started falling down. At the time one of my barmen was an ex-soldier Gary who served in Northern Ireland. He told us he often had to stake out remote farm houses for days on end and he would help us find out who was trashing our banner. He said he would dig himself into the stream nearby and wait for Mat McGuiness to arrive. At about 11.30 a minibus arrived and Mat McGuiness and Bill Redhead got out, and cut through the guy ropes and removed the banner.

We got a photo of this and contacted the police and the local paper. The Telegraph put a photo of the banner in with details of its theft. You could clearly read the advertising on it for the student night. This worked well because the police got it back.

I was now making serious money with the club. This gave me a renewed confidence. I felt I was the King of Derby. Everyone was going to the club, it was busy every night, and all the students were listening to the pirate radio. I went to the bank and borrowed some cash to buy two more houses, both of which were on top of big hills in the town. I did them up, ran the pirate radio from there and when they got busted by the D.T.I. I rented them out to staff and students.

These were the glory days of my time at the club. I was respected all over Derby for what I was doing. The club was run in such a way that the staff kept out of the way and we let the punters get on with enjoying the night. Our door staff were polite, funny but rock hard.

Our Monday night was now the biggest night of the week. Mark Lesley and his mate John Walker who worked behind the bar lived in one of my many houses in Derby. It was a big Victorian property on Breedon Hill Road. Also in the house was Kevin Clancy and my girlfriend's college friend Mark.

My property portfolio was expanding. I got business development loans for two more houses: 111 Mill Hill Lane, and 82 Thorneywood Mount in Nottingham. Note: all the houses were on top of hills in order to broadcast pirate radio from.

We all had one thing in common at the club apart from Tessa: we all hated Thatcher. It was the time of the poll tax riots and the criminal justice and public order act. Some of my staff went on the poll tax demos in London and recounted their experience on the pirate radio station.

The club was becoming more of a social institution than a rock club. I enjoyed every day because of the respect I had everywhere I went in Derby. Even my parents were coming round to the idea that opening a nightclub was good. My mum had wished I had stayed at Rolls Royce in a machine shop working on a lathe because it was a safer more secure future.

I did become a little self-confident and arrogant during the mid nineties, but then I had good reason. Everything was going right for me. By taking on Mark Leslie I had been able to re-invent the club and move into the student market just as the rock thing was dying.

Other clubs in Derby were seeing what we were doing on our Monday nights and wanted to cash in. We had a Mecca club just down the road; it was called Ritzy. It was a trendy club. They had a dress code; they would not let you in with jeans or trainers on. We had no dress code so we got a load of tee shirts printed with the words “I am a Ritzy Reject” printed on them and gave them free to our customers if they said Ritzy had refused them entry.

Everyone wanted some of the student market when the college got university status. The government wanted to get unemployment down so sticking the kids in uni was one way of achieving this.

My friend Paul Needham got a club for himself. I gave him a reference in order for him to get brewery finance. He courageously re-fitted an old printing works into a 3 floor club called the Warehouse. Paul had an interest in Jazz and live music; his club was in the right part of town, nearer the student residences than my club. He was also a creative giant, along with Artell, Russell Davidson and me.

With 14,000 students in Derby everyone was in on the act. The diversity of entertainment available made Derby a cultural hotbed. Customers were spoilt for choice; it was a rich time for anyone clubbing. Derby was getting a reputation as being a good place to go for a night out. Unlike today where all people have is a few late café bars all on one street.

We used to put spies in all the other clubs and I was updated with information on how they were doing as the night progressed. I also collected their advertising materials and were made aware of any fire safety breaches in rivals clubs, just in case we it got dirty.

The police in Derby had to deploy more officers on Saturday nights to cope with the influx of students and out-of-towners. They started a scheme called “Pub Watch”. This met monthly in a different club each time. It was made up mostly of council, police, fire and representatives from the trade. I saw it as an opportunity for club owners to create a cosy relationship with the police to make their lives easier. I objected to this and refused to host meetings in my club. The police demanded I put CCTV in but I refused on cost grounds and argued my customers did not want to be spied on.

At that time we had a drug problem in the club, on our student night. I contacted the police and went to Cotton Lane police station to see the head of the drug squad. I told him we had a problem. He said well its up to you to keep your house in order. The meeting ended abruptly. Then later that evening I got a phone call from the police: can I come back to Cotton Lane? I went back and was told that it was a misunderstanding and that the police would carry out an investigation on who was dealing drugs in the club. I knew it was a group of coloured lads. On the following Monday it was obvious we had the D.S. in the club. This had the effect of driving out the druggies and stopped our student night from being trashed.

At the following Pub Watch meeting there was an extra item on the agenda: a few words from the head of the drug squad. He said the following in front of 80 members of the trade: “Following a recent operation in Derby we have decided to work more closely with the trade. If you have any problems with drugs in your club, or need advice, then come to us first. Provided you work with us there will be no need for old style drugs busts in this town.”

I knew that by reporting a drug problem to them it had forced their hand, and had I had not reported it we would have got busted. It was a risky strategy but once again I did the right thing and that kept me going a few more years.

Entering the Dance Market in the 1990s

We now had a successful student night running on Mondays, but we were known as the Rock House. Unfortunately rock was getting a bad press in the media and the kids thought rockers looked out of date.

I decided that the club must move forward with the times and not stay stuck in a rut. There had been stories on the news about a new dance culture which was about to hit the UK, it was called Acid House. This music was new and usually played at raves in old warehouses but ravers took ecstasy tablets.

I wanted to show that the club was contemporary and not stuck in the past, so I planned to put on a rave at the club on a Wednesday night. Posters were put up and an advert in the Derby Evening Telegraph. It was late October 1990 on a Monday when the phone rang, it was BBC Midlands Today. They wanted to do an interview about Acid House nights. I said I would give an interview outside the club; I did not want them inside because I expected they would depict the place as a dump!

The camera crew and interviewer arrived and set up in the street outside. I made sure I was wearing a poppy as it was near remembrance day. They asked me questions about why I wanted to put on a night that was so heavily linked to drug culture. I said that it was about freedom of expression through music and not drugs.

After the main part of the interview I tried to stress the good work we did raising money for the Hospital Flying Squad but they edited that bit out.

There had been raves in London but none in the midlands so that’s why the telly got interested. However they did not show balance and it was clear they hated the concept of raves.

The Wednesday night came. My staff started arriving at the club, there was an air of excitement. At five to nine the police turned up and said they were carrying out an inspection. They asked me what I was planning to do to stop drugs getting into the club. I said I would search everyone and that I had got extra staff on to help.

They said how can you do that if you have drug dealers working on your door. I replied that none of my staff do drugs and if they have any evidence they should arrest them now. The police wanted me to cancel the night. I said I am not having outsiders telling me what music I was playing and that we would prove to them we could handle this new scene. The officer had tried and failed to get me to cancel the night, but they did not give up that easily. At about ten o’clock we had 200 ravers in the club. Suddenly about 6 riot vans turned up and parked outside the club but we had a queue outside the place caused by us searching everyone.

The police spoke to the door staff but it was clear we were doing what we said and that it was no big deal.

Derby County had been playing at home at the Baseball ground. All the police had done was stop outside our place on their way back from the game to make a show of force.

The night went well due to the extra publicity we had, and we were there at the start of a new dance era that would last ten years. We ran the acid house night for about two months or so but the numbers started to drop.

It was important for the club because it made people aware that we were not just a rock venue but were interested in all music styles.

In 1992 I was approached by a D.J. I think his name was Fran. He said he wondered if we would put on an underground house night that he called SMOKESCREEN. They came from Nottingham and Sheffield. I said give me £150 and they can have a Thursday Night.

Fran said that he would bring his own P.A. This was good because I was fed up of people hiring the club and blowing up our speakers. Smokescreen arrived at 8pm on the Thursday night; this was early since we did not open till ten. They had 8 bass scoops and several chunky mid tops.

The sound was superb and whilst they seemed a bit traveller-like they were nice people and they got about 250 in which was good for a Thursday.

I said they could do once a month but if they got more than 300 in I may consider giving them a Saturday night.

It was a late summer evening in 1992 I think. I got a phone call from a listener; he said you are going to get a drugs bust tonight. In the 1990s anyone with a scanner could listen to the police including the Drug Squad who had their Radios on 155.750 MHz in Derby.

I rang my Dad and asked him to Tune In. He said he was sure something was brewing and that maybe this was true.

That night when I arrived at the club to unlock the doors to let Smokescreen in, I noticed a white van with blacked out windows parked down the street opposite Hunters.

I kept my mouth shut and allowed Smokescreen to unload their P.A. into the club.

When it was in I told Tubby that we were going to get a drugs bust and that the static opps vehicle that would be co-ordinating the raid was already in the street.

I said remove your van from outside the doors, drive round the block and park at the side door. This could not be seen by the police vehicle. I got Smokescreen to load all the speakers back in the van and to leave without going back on Babington Lane.

I said I would ring them in the week when I had decided what to do. When my bar staff arrived for work I sent them home with pay. I put a notice on the doors of the club apologising for the closure of the night due to a power failure.

I locked the place up and went for a beer at the Abbey pub feeling good that I had thwarted a police raid.

The following night was the rock with Pete Lawrence; it was rammed. Harley Graham came up to me and said why is your Fucking club full of drug squad. I told him about last night. He laughed and said that’s why then. The police knew we were tipped off but were not sure how we knew.

Having a keen interest in radio was useful. I had many friends who were listeners; if anything interesting was going off I usually got to hear about it.

Smokescreen were allowed back but told to clean up their act and spread the word that drugs were bad for the club. But if they sorted it out I would give them a Saturday night.

This was one of my most unpopular decisions with the bikers because it meant that one Saturday in four would not be a rock night but deep house instead.

It took bloody ages to get rockers used to this and did not make me many friends. But Smokies were getting twice as much custom as a rock night. However I had to give them half the door money and they did not drink as much beer as rockers. I felt though that we were going in the right direction and that rock was dying.

Trying to Get That Elusive Late License

The club was moving into a new era. The Manchester scene was exploding with new clubs like the Hacienda (spelt wrong). This was the time of the great Tony Wilson who died last year. At last decent music was being played on Radio One. Our pirate station was doing well.

I got my friend Phil Orton to convert the upstairs into two radio studios because I had an idea that I would try to get a legal radio station going in the future.

My competitors were putting on dance nights such as Progress. We had Smokescreen running on the first Saturday of each month. Smokescreen was now the busiest night for us at weekends although our Monday night student night was rammed. We had the constant bickering of rockers saying that Smokescreen was dance shit. I held firm and carried on with what we were doing. One problem was that Eclipse down the road had just applied and got a four am license. We ran till about 2ish, but should really have closed at one.

I decided to apply to the council for a three o'clock license for our Smokescreen night.

Occasionally I would allow Smokescreen to run late. Three times a year we would do an illegal all-nighter.

We would put an advert in the paper it would read: SMOKESCREEN this Saturday, doors open 10pm till later. If it said “later” not “late” on the poster or advert it meant we were staying open all night.

We used to put staff in the street with radios and direct customers to enter via the side door on Sitwell Street. We set up a till at the bottom of the central stairs and kept the main door closed so it looked like we were shut. One slight problem was that the P.A. ran 10,000 watts so it could be heard all round the street.

We had a radio set up in the office tuned to the police on 452.650 UHF. I got a call from Kevin Clancy. He said one of the doorman at Eclipse has just rang the police and told them we are doing an all-nighter. I said I know I just heard a message go out to the police transit.

I had to decide whether to cancel the all-nighter or call the bluff of the license inspector.

There had been a message to stand down one of the two police units and the other van was about to stand down. It occurred to me that the police did not have the resources on to bust the night so I took the decision to carry on, a wise move because we did not get a raid.

Since Eclipse had got its late licence I applied for 3 am to the council. It went to the committee but was rejected on the grounds of complaints from the local in the old people's home at the back on Sitwell Street.

How could these old fossils distinguish our customers from those of Eclipse? In fact their place was bigger and was open more nights than us. Why should they have a four am license and we close at one.

I planned to take my revenge on those who objected to the license. I asked my friend Chris who had a recording studio to make me a tape up of war music.

He got the Dam Busters, Colonel Bogie, Glen Miller and some Burt Camfert orchestra.

Between each record I recorded propaganda messages. One said: “I bet you wonder what all the noise is about. I will tell you it's because you objected to our license. Well it's time you had your life ruined like you are doing to ours.”

After the rock night had finished I asked all the staff to carry the P.A. speakers up onto the roof. We pointed them at the old people's home opposite.

I placed the cassette in the player and set the time switch to play in half an hour at 3am.

All the staff and some customers gathered in the car park. I was with Caroline sat in her car in the Hardy Social club car park. The air raid siren started on the tape then Colonel Bogie, then me shouting propaganda at 3,000 watts.

I had phoned the Telegraph and told them we were outraged about not getting the late license and said I intend to take direct action to revenge this but did not say what I was about to do.

Me and Caroline laughed in the car. She said I was mad but eccentric. One by one the lights came on in the old people's home, some came out in the street in dressing gowns. Punters were laughing at them and shouting obscenities.

After 20 mins the music stopped. Caroline invited me back to her house for coffee. She normally did not do this. I had tried chatting her up in the past but failed. This time it was different, and it was the start of a small fling.

On the following Monday the council hand delivered to me a noise abatement notice but I also hand delivered to them an appeal against the refusal to grant the late license.

Apparently the P.A. protest was heard as far away as Chaddesden about 4 miles from Babington Lane!

I went to the appeal. Everyone said I had lost the plot and was going mad. I prepared my evidence and went to the hearing fired up. The mayor was chair of the committee and I started my evidence. It took over an hour. The mayor had an important meeting at 12 but I kept on going with my onslaught. I won the case and we got a 3 am licence mainly because the objectors failed to turn up and substantiate their evidence.

This was an important victory for me and gave us the late licence that would be essential if we were to compete with Progress.

The Mid 1990s

I had plenty of money but did not waste it on flash cars. Instead it went on properties. I had 7 in all including a delightful cottage in Branscombe Devon.

It was great being able to escape from the stress of running one of the east midlands' most successful clubs and walk on the pebble beach and take buttered scones in the tea room.

Change was about to take place in my personal life. I had been going out with Liz who worked part time in the kitchen and was a student at the university. She had graduated and moved to London to study at the Royal College of Art. We stayed together and I went to see her when I had time.

When she came back to Derby I got a house on the hill in Allestree. This was another good radio site overlooking the city.

We used to go out to the Dial and to the Full Moon restaurant and to the tea room on Daley Park.

We also went on two camping holidays in America, staying at the state parks each night.

During our trip to New York we camped on a building site near Wall St, dosing in the back of the hire car and cooking on a stove in the street.

Liz would go shopping and I would go onto the roof of the World Trade Centre with my radio. It was amazing up there in the autumn.

Decision time had arrived. I had been against the idea of marriage and had put it off for as long as possible. I was now 36, Liz 28. We were at our cottage in Branscombe on a walk over the fields.

As we crossed over the airstrip at the farm overlooking the village she said either we get married soon or it's over.

She wanted kids. I did not see myself as a family man but she said she was wasting her life with me and it was time I showed some commitment.

This became known as the airfield ultimatum. I felt I was being pushed along by events but because I was weak I agreed and we got married in December 1994.

This to me was the start of what would be a slow demise that took ten years to reach its ultimate conclusion.

Previously life was fun and nothing was important. Now it was serious shit. Liz became pregnant and had a son called Harvey in the summer of 1995.

Our student night was still going but there were signs that it may be about to drop in numbers.

Thatcher came out with an idea to outlaw illegal raves and stop outdoor parties. Michael Howard was the home secretary. He made a speech that was intended to wage war on the party people. In the Criminal Justice and Public Order Act of 1994 it was proposed to make it an offence for 3 or more people to meet and it gave the police the power to break up gatherings of more than 3 people if the pig had reasonable grounds to suspect that a rave was about to take place. A rave was defined as a musical event which was predominantly characterised by regular beats.

The police could also seize sound equipment and charge the owners for its disposal.

I decided that we should fight this bill so we had a banner put above Reliance shop door saying “Kill the Bill Demo Hyde Park London” and the date. All our flyers and posters had details of the demo and how to get there. It was during this time that I got my first taste of what would become a reoccurring theme. I was giving out flyers at the uni for our student night in the refectory. This was dangerous because if Mat McGuiness were to catch me I would be thrown out. I handed a flyer to a youth. He was tall and well dressed. He said not interested mate. I said you may not be interested in the student night but you may be in what's written on the back of flyer. He looked at the advert for a coach trip to London to protest about the Criminal Justice Bill.

He threw the flyer on the floor and said “Gas the crusty bastards”. It had not occurred to me that a student could be so right wing.

I am sure that this moment spelt the end of the glory days for me. A new generation of students were coming through the ranks who were not rebellious. In fact they liked the status quo and I don't mean the band.

I wanted to tell him to fuck off but that would have been no way to talk to a potential customer.

This was the first moment that I realised that my way of doing things was no longer relevant to the younger generation.

It worried me because instead of the Rockhouse having a general appeal it was starting to have the reputation of a bit of a dive.

We went on the bus trip through bottles of piss at the police in Downing Street.

The police marched us round all day in the hot sun but made sure there were no shops open to get water and no toilets, in order to humiliate demonstrators.

I managed to get the police a kicking by allegedly directing with a megaphone a crowd to charge the short shield units on Hyde Park. Police were stripped of their uniforms and dragged through the horse galloping sand at the edge of the park. They were chased off the park and it seemed like a small victory.

Took a load of photos.

After four years our student night was beginning to dwindle. Mark Lesley decided to leave, so I asked Will Hollinghead to D.J. instead. The numbers continued to drop. Everyone was going to the Blue Note. I had made the mistake of allowing one of their D.J.s to work with Will but actually he was spreading rumors that the night was moving to the Blue Note.

It was a cold night just before Christmas. We only had about 80 people in and was freezing and no atmosphere.

From having 600 students in every week we were almost empty. Stan the doorman said mate this just ain't working. I agreed. I went on the microphone at midnight and said with great sadness that I would be closing early. We rang up Eclipse and said would you let our customers in free as we were shutting. They said yes. So everyone including the staff went down to Eclipse.

I could have cried. The glory days had definitely ended. It was going to be a struggle from now on.

The staff said it was over and I had lost my relevance. I said to them watch this, I guarantee I will put 600 in here in a week.

I decided on a mad promotion for the following Wednesday: 20p entry and 20p a pint all night.

I contacted the brewery to get some promotional beer but they only gave one barrel. I put posters and placards all over Derby. This act of desperation worked in so far as it rammed. We got 650 in but we were understaffed deliberately and it took too long to get served.

It created bad feeling so the week after when it was 50p all night we only got 150 in. We were losing money. Debts were beginning to rack up.

By the start of 1996 we only had Smokescreen that was doing any trade and we had to give them half the door. I felt the Rockhouse club had run its course. Students were going to Mat McGuiness' union bars, not our place.

We were in the shit big time and I had to do something quick or go back to Rolls Royce and work on a fucking lathe again.

I went on the ski holiday with my mates as usual and decided that I would apply for a radio licence to broadcast legally for a month, then have a massive party and close down the Rockhouse.

I applied to the Radio Authority for a license and was amazed it was granted because of my alleged involvement in pirate radio.

I placed an advert in the local paper for presenters and engineers. This would be an expensive project but I wanted to at least try it before I was forced back into the real world.

Mats Go 1997

It's getting difficult to remember the exact order in which things happened during those last few years of the club but I think it's something like this.

Andy Palmer oversaw the refitting of the Future club. His new nights Free Style with Lindsey Scott and his friend, the official student night, and the rock night were not working too well.

I asked Mat Chell if he would like to be the new manager of the Future. He accepted the gauntlet but he knew that we had serious problems financially and it would take a miracle to save the place. Like a dick head I sold Thorneywood Mount in Nottingham and sunk the cash into the shitty Future club. Liz appealed to me not to do this but I did not take her sound advice.

However Mat managed to turn things around. He was unbelievably energetic. Mat is a very clever person and has a nice girlfriend behind him. I don't think Mat liked me particularly but he respected what I stood for so was prepared to give it a shot. He liked my son Harvey and always took the time to make Harvey smile. Mats energy re-invigorated us burnt out staff. He worked tirelessly to turn the club around.

Marcus Shukla, Greg and Chris Miles helped advertise the Future club. We had some busy nights and a bit of cash, so as you would expect I said “Mat can I do the Radio again in April 1998”. He said yes provided it did not starve the club of cash. Smokescreen Travelling without Moving and the rock nights were beginning to get busy.

Mat showed his resolve when on one Saturday night a group of coloured lads from Nottingham tried to storm the club and steal the takings. Mat managed to get the cash off the pay desk and move the girl on the desk to safety whilst a pitch battle raged in the entrance. There were dreadlocks and gold chains all over the floor, then Mat went through the kitchen into the club and stood with his back against the swing doors preventing them from getting in. It also kept the punters from seeing that there was a scrap going on.

Our door team of Stan, Deck, Richard and his two lads beat off the attack with the pick axe handles that I managed to give them from out the kitchen. Fortunately there were two fully trained nurses in the club that night, and they were able to treat our casualties without anyone going to hospital. This incident was never reported to police. Threats were sent back from Nottingham but nothing came of it.

I gave our door staff a £200 bonus for taking them on and winning.

Things were looking brighter. We still had debts but because some of our nights were busy it gave us a bit of cash to play around with and made us feel more cheerful.

Andy Palmer said he would come back to the Future to help me with Radio Freedom RSL2 which was due on air in April 1998. He stayed at the house where his friend Marcus Carter from the band Scribble lived.

We started training sessions in the evenings in studio A. We had a few volunteers respond to an article in the Derby Evening Telegraph.

A lively woman called Karen said she would like to do a show with her friend. We got talking about advertising. She told me that we should try to get some sponsorship to help pay for it.

Mat liked this idea because he was concerned that my play thing could actually threaten the livelihood of all the staff working for the Future. He remembered the struggle paying for the last Radio Freedom broadcast.

Karen started working in our sales office which was up stairs in studio B. I remember it was freezing cold up there, a very depressing environment for generating sales.

We had a studio phone put in: 361068, which was sorted out for us by Kev Clancy's mate Clive who worked at BT. We were going to be on 106.8FM so it kind of rang true.

Mick Usher who had designed the Future logo and the amazing Free Style poster made some glossy promotional packs for us.

Karen was struggling however. Maybe I did not give her the tools to do the job, and it became clear that it was costing too much money to persuade reluctant sponsors so I scrapped the idea of advertising.

This was a bad move because the radio would cost about £7,000 to put on. Mat was not happy about this, but I tried to persuade him that this would raise the profile of the club.

Radio Freedom RSL two began on 5th April 1998. It was opened by Tip Toe Tony just as we did in 1996.

Andy Palmer managed to get the council to allow us to do two road shows, one from Osnabruk square outside the Market Hall, one in the market place.

We also broadcast live bands from the Vic Inn. Karen was the O/B presenter who introduced the bands. New D.Js like Richard Hyde and the tall bloke with ginger hair joined us.

We had got a new engineer. His name was and is Al Cleminson. He is a true professional, and he made presenting easy for everyone, and was brilliant at patching through outside broadcasts.

We used a talkback system to link back to our two on air studios A and B.

The radio was so intense I could not leave, so I slept on the floor in studio A for most of that month.

Liz would make my tea and bring it to the station. My son Harvey made us a jingle; he was only two and a half!

He left his toy magnetic sketch pad in the studio. From that day onwards it was used as the best way of passing messages to presenters whilst they were on air.

On the Friday night we put on a live concert from the Loft nightclub on Friar Gate. I installed the equipment and linked up to the main studio. Mark Sheldon who worked on BBC Radio Derby asked me a question about the band. I had not got the first clue. I had to say, “Don't ask me I am only the engineer.” I felt stupid, but then again I think he knew I could not answer it.

I introduced the band and went home to get some kip. We were planning to put out the disco as well as the band so I could forget about it till 1am. Al was in studio B looking after the feed.

I was knackered and did not wake up till half two. I raced back to the Loft to collect the equipment because we needed it in the morning for a road show in the market place.

Jazz the manager had gone home and locked the place up. He had his answer phone on. I had no choice but to use our spare O/B transmitter instead. This thing was crap and we only had one aerial for it and that was on a mast on the roof of the club.

I had to work all night alone taking the mast down and getting the aerial off the pole.

I set it up in the market place and awaited the arrival of Rob McSherry and Jason Malloy.

We could not start the broadcast on time because there was a buzzing noise on the feed. It took ten minutes to solve that and we started at ten past ten.

It was a great road show, lots of loud music for the shoppers. Most of the shops in the street went along with it. I think they thought we were RamFM.

We did several more outside broadcasts and had lots of new presenters.

Andy Palmer actually went on air from Chris Beach's studio to make out to Lindsey Scott that he was on Concorde flying back from the states. Chris provided all the aircraft sounds and Lindsey fell for it.

We continued with the Beaches Basement rock show from Chris's studio in Chell. He did this programme with Mick Usher. He had guests join him from time to time. It was a good programme, the music was better than that being played in the club. The show got quite a few requests and phone calls. Mick played Carbonate for my dad.

During Gordy's breakfast show we had a bailiff hit on the nightclub. They broke into the studio and turned off the power. They were told the radio was not part of the club but they switched off the transmitter and started removing things. I got a phone call to my house. I said I would race down there and arrange payment.

I don't think they were from the council. I think it was non-payment of performing rights for the Rock House.

I tried the old excuse that we were not the Rock House and that this was a new club. It did not wash so they started removing all Andy Palmer's new seating.

The club looked sparse and empty. Mat did not like this and I reckon he was ready to quit.

We had to go down to Booker's cash and carry and buy some plastic garden furniture instead. This was an acute fire risk.

We limped on through this RSL but I was damaged. I went on air slagging off the bailiffs but looking back on this it was letting our enemies know I had problems. The radio station ended with the same party as we had for RSL one. I was suffering from the cash flow difficulties that the old Rock House had run up.

Radio Freedom RSL 2 finished on 6th May 1998. As before we had the party in studio A. Rob McSherry hosted it and did the credits. He got completely pissed, and he played a few clips of what we had achieved. This was a good broadcast but Rob did get pissed but so what he deserved it.

Once again I walked the walk down the corridor to turn off the Radio. I had not the first clue when it would come back if ever.

Mat continued attempting to run the Future but it was difficult because just as we seemed to be turning the corner something else happened to ruin things.

We carried on for another year, with some successes. The club was by no means empty but it had such debts that it was getting harder to provide a safe environment for customers when we were losing key things like furniture.

Ego Mania had about 150 in but Friday with Gordy's Time Tunnel, a retro night was just getting rockers in so we canned that night and got Dudley Dave and Will Hollinghead took over.

We decided it was not worth trying to make the club something it clearly was not. The Rock House was ingrained on the psyche of Derby so why try to fight it.

Once again the change to a rock indie night worked well and numbers went up. Cash started to flow again. We had a good Christmas and new-year. Mat got on well with his team of staff. He began to develop the habit of getting all the staff together after the shift. They used to drink till all hours. I felt this was unhealthy and did not stay long.

The late nights were taking their toll on Mat.

In early 1999 I asked Mat what do you think about doing another RSL radio. He said no it's a waste of money.

I disagreed.

The application came back from the Radio Authority that we could do another RSL but they asked me not to use the radio as a promotional tool for the nightclub.

I told them that we would be doing many more outside broadcasts and that all the clubs in Derby could have their own D.Js on the radio and that we would do a live broadcast from each of our competitors venues.

This time I could not afford to pay for the radio myself so I decided to make it a commercial operation. We would carry advertising to pay for Radio Freedom.

My friend Bob and his wife Meesha were employed to get the advertising.

Meesha used to work in the sales department of the Derby Trader so she knew what sales was about.

Bob and Meesha got major sponsorships from the most unlikely areas: The National Blood Service, Royal Air Force, Royal Marines, Derby City Council's New Normanton campaign, Royal Institute for the Blind and many more. However the new landlord Reliance Electrical hated us and would not advertise, nor would any of the local companies.

Bob found a company who would make professional adverts and jingles for us.

Things were looking up for once. I was still short of cash but I did not care because the radio was going to be back on.

This time I bought a good quality outside broadcast transmitter and went to Reading to hire a receiver to go with.

Everyone who worked on Radio Freedom before wanted to come back. There were lots of new programmes and ideas to try out this time. Bob was a fiery strong willed chap and he did not like Andy Palmer. I had arguments about format with him but I did not let anyone deflect me from the task.

I contacted a local poet's society and asked them if they would come in and read short poems about war and political strife. A succession of readers came in and we put them onto minidisks.

I told all the presenters that they must play at least one poem per show but they must not comment in any way about them. They should be played after each advert break.

I placed an advert in a radio mag for a news reader. This time I wanted our own news program which was to be called the Freedom News Report. It would be on each day at 5:30.

Two people applied: one was Mark Stevens from Bristol and Curly Spencer who lived in Derby but worked on Radio Caroline in the late 1980s.

This next radio broadcast was to be bigger and better than the first two. We aimed to do at least one outside broadcast a day. We had been contracted to do a program from the Assembly Rooms for the National Blood Service. This would bring in £400 in one go. I recruited two professional presenters from Doncaster for this type of work.

Radio Derby's Mark Sheldon and Mark Mason came back to work for me.

The stage was set for one hell of a month. All the thoughts of the club closing had gone. Whilst the place was not rammed every night it was ticking over.

No radio station in Derby has ever undertaken the scale of outside broadcasting that we did during this month. There were about 30 programs sent via the O/B links. We sometimes did two or three in one day.

Every event and every club got the chance to go on air.

Here is a short list of a few of them: The National Blood Service from Assembly Rooms, several gigs from the Vic Inn, Progress live from Time nightclub, several bands from the Loft club, the tree protest from Bass Rec, Pak foods Normanton, The rock show from Sinfin, ASDA Spondon, Manor furnishings in Mickleover, Forum book shop Abbey St., Live music from the Flower Pot pub. And many more.

Radio Freedom RSL3 sounded much more professional than RSL2. We had got more presenters who had been on air before. The most famous O/B was the one we did from high up in the trees with the tree protesters. We took live phone calls from members of the public who wanted to save the park. All the equipment was hoisted high up into the tree houses whilst Mat Chell and Dexter Mixwith did the studio end of things.

The council hated this and they tried to get us shut down but they failed.

Mark Stevens had his own news room in the old cellar. He had a master's degree in media and reported things in such detail, sometimes too much detail for our thicko listeners!

He and Curly Spencer alternated each story whilst a dance beat played in the background.

Once again we had our engineer Al Cleminson sorting things out at the studio end.

We used a talkback system to link back to our two on air studios A and B.

One of the best O/Bs we did was from Time nightclub on Mansfield Road. They had one of Derby's biggest dance nights. It was called Progress, and this was at the height of the dance music era.

I arrived at the venue at lunch time and put up the mast in the car park. The event was due to go out at ten pm till midnight. At nine o'clock we had the Travelling without Moving radio show with Lee Whitehead and Marcus Shukla. They did not like Progress because they thought it was too safe and mainstream, but they were totally professional and gave Russell Davidson a big introduction.

The week before we sent out reporter Nick Smith to record interviews with punters. We got their customers to do shout outs for their friends back home. These clips were overlaid onto the live feed giving the impression that they were done live. This is a bit naughty but it sounded really good. We did tell the interviewees that it would be going out the next week.

Progress also had a radio show on Thursday evenings. It was called Big Beating around the Bush. It featured a posse of Progress D.J.s who ran easy competitions giving out free tickets to Big Beating around the Bush at Union One.

It was really good to be in control of a vehicle that drove the culture of Derby. All the clubs were represented, and old names like Steve Rouse appeared and worked on the afternoon show. It was a bit like Radio Brannigans on the Wednesday and Friday afternoons. They did an afternoon show playing soul and motown. They went over the top promoting their club. Everyone told me to stop them from doing this but I said let them get on with it because none of our punters go there anyway.

Jason Malloy had a morning show. He got his dad to phone in every day to read the weather. It made good radio because his dad was a good laugh. I asked Jason if he would host a big outside broadcast from the spot outside the Eagle shopping centre.

I contacted the council and asked them if this was ok. I was amazed when they said yes. They said meet Bruce Cowls at the site on the Friday and he will show me where the mains supply is and give me a key. Bruce Cowls is a Canadian sounding man but actually comes from New York. His name was to crop up later. He worked for the city centre manager's office of Derby City Council.

Bruce told me the only way of getting the mains power out to the square below was to throw an extension lead out of the clock tower.

He gave me a key and told me to drop it off when I had finished.

The Saturday was warm and sunny. We delivered a 3000 watt P.A. system to the spot. This was well over the top, and it was near the club so we had no problems getting a signal back.

Jason Malloy did a great job of entertaining the crowd of shoppers. You could hear the P.A. all the way back to the market place. We had people phoning in and did requests and competitions for the people sitting in the sun listening. Jason was a show man. He played at all the big clubs in the U.K. His type of club was the Pink Coconut.

On the Monday there was a letter in the paper from an old bag from the Maltings at the back of my club complaining about the noise from the Spot road show.

We got a phone call from David Best the city manager. I was rude to him on the phone because he accused us of being a pirate station. He was already fed up with the tree protest and decided to try to end our fun. I told him we had a licence and he should piss off. I am sure he got the woman to write to the paper. Derby City Council did not like the fact that someone who was virtually unknown and not part of the establishment could appear on the scene and cause such a commotion.

Normally it was the BBC that were supposed to shine a light on Derby's youth culture, yet they were failing to do this and we were showing them what was really happening in the town. For the rest of this RSL we had to put up with the establishment sniping at us from all angles. My response was to fight back.

We did more amazing outside Broadcasts: one from ASDA in Spondon. We set up just inside the entrance area. Jason Malloy once again delivered the goods and ASDA made us most welcome and went along with the party.

Manor Furnishings in Mickleover provided us with sponsorship. All their staff and managers listened and were always ringing in. They said we could do a broadcast outside the store. It went down really well we had lots of phone calls to our competitions. Jason Malloy played instant requests. If we did not have the tune Al would download it and play it from the studio.

The manager from the store came on air and thanked us for doing an excellent road show and offered our listeners big discounts at the store.

When it came to the end of the RSL we realised that we had captured the spirit of the first broadcast. I was sure the club had benefited by the exposure.

Meesha and Bob had done the impossible. They had pledges of about £5,000 in advertising, and I had made a deal to pay them a percentage of monies received and a basic flat rate.

Problem: I forgot to write into the contract anything about credit control.

When the broadcast was over there was still about £1,500 still to be collected. I said I would pay the balance when the monies were received. Bob saw this departure from our original agreements. It kicked off big time. I had to pay up even though not all revenues had been collected.

I paid up but our working relationship was damaged. Karen said she would come in and try to get the slow paying advertisers to cough up.

Once the radio was off this was difficult. It was costing me too much money to chase them. About £750 quid was never collected. However we did get about four thousand in advertising and that went a long way to paying for RSL3.

We had the farewell party on the Friday night in early May 1999. And as usual I went off to my cottage in Branscombe for a well earned holiday with Liz and Harvey.

Re-Branding to Survive: Andy Palmer's Refit

We had just completed the massively successful Radio Freedom RSL broadcast. I had taken time out to reflect on things. New arrival Andy Palmer said I should not close, but I should re-launch with a new club aimed at the next generation of young people and students.

For the last 12 years I had provided a place for rockers and some crusties to go. The only problem was that rock was on a downer. The emerging dance scene and the sexist glam of bands like Bon Jovi were not compatible.

There were new bands around and the heavy metal head banging stuff had a following but it was in the minority in 1996.

Times were changing. The Rockhouse name and the interior were looking old and tarnished.

I met Andy Palmer after my holiday. We went with Jack the piano player who worked behind the bar to the Babington Arms Pub.

The decision to close down the Rockhouse for the summer was made. It was decided not to make a big deal about it, just to tell customers that we would be closed for a refit and would be back open in September.

The main difficulty was that I had no money to spend on this. The only way to do it would be to sell one or more of my properties.

Reluctantly I put Walter Street on the market. This was the start of the contraction process that would continue for ten years and ultimately leave me with nothing.

The house sold quickly and it gave Andy Palmer some working capital to use on the refit.

Liz was against the selling of properties but liked Andy because he was a college boy and had studied art like she had.

We started work on the refit in July 1996. I felt this was the right thing to do but was nervous about whether it would get new people into the FUTURE club.

I liked the name Future. No one else did! But it was appropriate at that time because the new millennium focused everyone on the future.

Maybe I was reading too much into this argument but it was the best name to be put forward so we stuck with it.

Andy Palmer said he would live in studio A on site. He was absolutely committed to the project. He worked 12 hour shifts each day to get the job done by September.

Mick Usher who worked with Chris on the rock show designed the posters for our new nights. He made the Future logo set against a sunset sky, and several variants to use on our website.

Mat Chell joined the team and worked with Andy Palmer on the interior design. The most striking aspect was the re-cladding of all the interior walls with MDF panels illuminated from behind. Shapes were profile cut into the walls to give a soft glow.

The floor covering in front of the bar had to be removed. Andy wanted to make use of all the original features of the building as possible. We hired an industrial sanding machine and removed all the paint and old glue. We then used a hard wearing wood stain varnish to protect the new clean surface.

I made 30 grand available to Andy for the refit. It did not take long before the cash ran out. The seating area in front of the kitchen could not be finished. Indeed it never did get done.

I also had debts from the Rockhouse to pay. I owed council business rates of about £7,000 and also 5 grand to the tax man.

Andy Palmer worked hard with Jack and Mat. He also had some D.J. friends help. The place was looking new and fresh. There was a feeling of optimism in the air that this was going to work.

We had plenty of competition to think about. Jaz Rhy had taken over the Warehouse from Paul Needham. The students union had the Union bars on Cathedral Row. There was Time on Mansfield Road, the Pink Coconut, and our old friends Eclipse down the road.

By the beginning of September we had completed the re-decorating. The Future was ready to open.

Our running order had D.J. Gordy with Time Tunnel on Fridays. Saturdays was a rotation of Travelling Without Moving deep house, Smokescreen deep house and the classic rock night.

Mondays was the official student night which was actually unofficial because the Students Union would not endorse it.

Thursdays we had a new night called Freestyle. It was a skater/indie music night. It was to have one of the best flyer designs that Mick Usher did for us. The night was hosted by Lindsey Scott and what's his face.

The start of the Future was a bit of a flop. Time Tunnel was only half full. The student night was dead but the rock night and smokescreen were rammed. Travelling Without Moving was doing ok. It had about 300 in.

I got the impression that the Future was not going to work, and that we had not reversed the downward trend from early in the year. Our official student night was the first night to actually get no members of the public in at all.

We were in the shit big time. I asked the council if we could pay our business rates in installments. Luckily they agreed. I put two more houses up for sale: 111 Mill Hill Lane and 17 Breedon Hill Road.

These took a while to sell and did not make much of a profit but I needed the money. The housing market was in a slump. Some people had negative equity.

Andy Palmer was still living in studio A whilst Mat Chell helped with promoting. I think Julie was still working as manager sorting out bar staff and wages.

Tessa also worked with me for eleven years was now running her own pub called the Football Tavern.

The Future club did look completely different to the old Rockhouse. There were new young vibrant staff about the place. In many respects the staff were keeping the place going.

1996 Radio Freedom RSL1

With the club on its knees, negativity in the air, bailiff actions against me, it was time to wind up the operation. It had given me something useful to do for 12 years so I could not grumble.

I did not want to close the club but I could not see any way out. One thing that could be done was to run a radio station from the club and then close the place down when the radio finished.

I applied to the Radio Authority for a licence which was granted. It cost five grand but we had the studios and equipment already. An advert for presenters and technicians was put in the Telegraph. I held interviews for the mostly voluntary positions.

The station was due to go on air on the 5th April to 6th May. I ran training sessions on weekday nights in studio A. Several people from Derby volunteered to work on the project.

I also recruited drum and bass E.G. from Sheffield to work on the station.

The station would be called Radio Freedom and it would be on the internet and on 105.8FM.

I contacted Virgin Radio and was surprised to be put through to their chief executive who was Dave Campbell I think. He said that at night we could relay Virgin Radio. I also asked Independent Radio News (IRN) if we could take their news service. They agreed provided we also carried their adverts.

In order that the station had a credible sound I recruited some professional presenters. One was BBC Radio Derby's Mark Sheldon and Mark Mason who worked as a news/traffic reporter.

We had a couple of young engineers in training. One was Buddy Holly as we called him and the other was a trainee from Hospital radio. I forget his name.

We put up a big mast on top of the building with a co-linear antenna mounted as high as possible.

We got permission to carry out test broadcasts the Friday before we were due on the air. Jimmy the Greek came to the studio and played dance music whilst we played adverts and trailers for the new service which was to start at mid day.

The club was wired up so that we could broadcast live bands from the stage. We also had a large room upstairs that could be used for live sessions.

I left on the Friday night at about 1am. I knew that the following day was going to be a milestone in my life.

I arrived back at 11am on Saturday 5th April 1996 and switched on the transmitter. It was located in the upstairs corridor outside the toilet. I put on the Bert Campfert record and rang my Dad. He said it was coming through crystal clear. Splodge had given me a load of crap 1950s and sixties light entertainment, easy listening records to play to fill the first hour. After each record we had recorded announcements saying that a new radio service called Radio Freedom would start at mid day. We wanted to play boring music in order not to upstage our first D.J. Tip Toe Tony. He arrived at about 11:45. I was getting nervous thinking he would not show up.

My friend Chris turned up to be there at the start. We had recorded the start sequence at his studio. I set up a radio downstairs in the club and wired it into the P.A.

The cleaners were in clearing up after the Friday night. At precisely 7 minutes to twelve I asked Tony to fade out the easy listening music. I turned up the radio in the D.J. box. The rig was on but we deliberately ran a blank carrier with no audio for 7 minutes.

At precisely midday Tip Toe Tony launched the opening minidisk. The start sequence began with Thunderbird countdown then part of the 1812 overture with me proclaiming that this was about to be the beginning of a new era in radio broadcasting in Derby.

The trailer told listeners of what to expect over the next month, plugging the concept of Rock, Indie, Dance and live music radio for the city.

Chris and I listened in the middle of the dance floor at full volume over the P.A. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and a shiver down my back. 7000 watts as all the sound effects of cheering crowds faded away. Tip Toe Tony made his opening remarks welcoming listeners to this new service. He launched his first jingle but there was a deathly silence lasting a second but it seemed like forever. Then in came REM “Losing My Religion”, we were off on the start of the most momentous radio broadcast in Derby's history.

Two hundred people would be involved in some capacity to shine a light on Derby's culture through Radio. It was to be the proudest moment of my life, and I doubt I will ever achieve anything of this stature again.

Having a radio station broadcasting from the club caused a renewed interest in the place. We had tee shirts printed advertising Radio Freedom. On the back it listed all the bands who would be playing live over the month, 26 in all.

Each evening we put on gigs either in RockHouse or in studio C upstairs. We allowed a small number of their fans and family to be part of the audience when they played in studio C because it was not part of the nightclub and public were not allowed up there normally.

The radio got loads of phone calls to every program. Kevin Clancy got his friend Rob McSherry to do the breakfast show with Andy Raynor from the University of Derby.

Rob McSherry was a funny but professional broadcaster, and like many who worked on Freedom he should have taken up radio full time.

His programme started at 7am. I was famous for not getting up in the morning but when the radio was on I had no problems getting up at 6am in order to let Rob, Andy and Buddy Holly in the studio.

Due to the success of Radio Freedom the nightclub started getting busy again. I still intended to close the place when the radio finished in May 1996.

I applied to the court for a late license for the last night. Like an idiot I went to Flint Bishop and Barnett Solicitors to try to get the late ticket.

Flints said there was an unspoken rule in Derby that the licensing bench did not grant all night drinking. They refused to represent me because it would have put them in the position of upsetting their friends on the bench.

If Flints had tried then when they were in front of the magistrates with a more affluent client than me they may get a shock and get applications turned down because they upset the status quo. That's why they would not help.

I continued with the application myself. It was due to be heard at the court on Dewent Street. I went into court, then the clerk came up to me and said this case had been transferred to the smaller more poky courtroom on Bold Lane.

I knew that this was done to avoid the case being reported. The Telegraph only sat in the main courts normally.

The case started half an hour later, and as you would expect, there were objections from the police, who listed problems they had to deal with at the venue.

Predictably the late ticket was refused. And I had to pay costs.

I walked back to the station and went on the air saying we lost the case, but the party would go ahead but not late.

One of my bar staff Jack Carr played the piano at concert level. He said he had a friend called Andy Palmer who lived in Coventry. He had heard of the Rockhouse and was interested in seeing me to talk about its future.

The Radio station was taking care of itself. Jason Malloy and Rob McSherry were getting big listenerships and could handle it on their own so I went to see Andy Palmer in the day time.

I went to his mum's house. He was tall, thin but healthy looking and well spoken. He was an arty sort of person. I could tell immediately that he was creative.

His advice was that the Rock House club was not dead and it should not close. He said it needed to be re-invented, re-branded to take account of the changes in music.

Rock was dead he said. The place needed a new name and a new image. He said the Radio was a positive move and that he wanted to see the place.

Andy Palmer was well educated. He had been brought up by his mum I believe. He had been to university and studied design.

He came back with me and Jack to see the club and the radio.

Andy knew some of the bands in Derby and said he would stay at Scribble's house.

Scribble were a local band that also had a radio show on the station.

Radio Freedom had another 10 days to go before it was off the air. Andy got to know the presenters and said he would help with the preparation of programmes.

During the afternoon shows we would have live acoustic sessions from local musicians and even got the buskers from St Peters street to play.

We had Smokescreen playing on the Saturday night so we could not use the studio at the club because the whole building would shake with the bass. We hired an outside broadcast transmitter and installed it at my friend Chris's house in Chelleston. He had a full studio setup there, and he did Saturday nights rock show from his house with Mick Usher.

This was good because it made it possible to shut down the on air studio and use it as an editing suite because the rock show was an o/b.

The Rockhouse had Smokescreen, Travelling Without Moving, Simon Bassline Smith Drum and Bass and a rock night running in rotation. The Rockers were getting sick of this but rock was dying so it was ok. Friday nights were Will Hollinghead and Dudley Dave playing Rock and Indie.

I felt I had achieved everything I wanted with the nightclub and the station. We were entering the last week. By this time Andy Palmer was a part of the team and was trying his best to persuade me not to close but to re-brand it instead.

I was in debt, and could not afford to do a refit.

On the last few days of the radio Rob McSherry was getting more adventurous with his breakfast show but I felt he was taking the piss out of Buddy Holly on air so I decided to split them up and bring in Chris as an engineer to try and shake things up.

Rob wanted to do an outside broadcast so Chris got a bloody great drum of cable and chucked it over the roof down into the street. Rob went out into the street whilst Andy Raynor stayed back in studio. Rob grabbed people in the street and got them to request songs and take part in crap competitions.

This worked really well. He asked Chris if he could borrow the outside broadcast gear for the Thursday morning show.

Andy Palmer and I went to see Chris and got all the equipment and aerials. We decided that Rob would do his show from Bold Lane just outside the car park.

I set up the equipment the night before and camped out to look after the gear. It was cold and damp.

We had a P.A. speaker, turntables, mics and the o/b transmitter and aerial mast.

At 7am the show started, music blaring all over the street at 7am.

Buddy Holly was the engineer. Rob was loving it, taking the piss out of passers by, doing interviews and generally having fun. It was freezing and the CDs were jumping because of the condensation.

At about ten to nine, just as the live o/b was ending, a posh bloke from the council walked passed on his way to work. He stopped and said “Have you got permission to do this?” We ignored him and joked about this on air. He made some kind of threat as he walked away.

We were having the time of our lives. Everyone was listening, even the BBC were tuned in.

It was our last day on air, 6th May 1996, and it was due to be the last day of the club.

Andy Palmer had persuaded me to rethink the decision to close until after the radio had finished and we had had time to take stock of the situation.

Friday 6th May 1996 was to be the best day of my life I am sure. Rob McSherry was getting into the idea of outside broadcasting from in the street. He asked if he could do his last show from Friargate. I said yes provided we got the engineers to help. Buddy Holly and his mate said yes so we got up early and set up again under Friargate bridge. Friargate was a busy commercial part of the town with loads of office workers walking to work.

We installed the mast and P.A. outside the cob shop. We put our generator round the corner. We had a link back to the studio and were able to take the news and live phone calls from Friargate. Chris stayed in the studio just in case things went wrong and we lost the link.

At the same time ten to nine, the police turned up along with David Romain from the environmental health department of the council. The policeman asked us to stop. I refused saying we finish at nine.

On this outside broadcast we used a “Good Morning Vietnam” microphone to pick up the street sounds and a hand mic for speech. Rob McSherry saw it brewing and put on a tune about getting into trouble with the police.

After the song Mr Romain approached me. I grabbed the o/b mic and put him live on air. I argued with him at the roadside. I told him we were no more noisy than the cars and busses. Just then the traffic lights changed and all hell let loose. Buddy Holly turned up the gain so the sound of the traffic was deafening to the listeners. I agreed to stop the broadcast. Just then Rob said “We are going to have to end it but thanks for listening from Friargate Bridge. It's goodbye.” As Chris started his first song, Bon Jovi “Living on a Prayer”, you can just hear the policeman saying to me “And where do you live?”

Whilst we were packing up the equipment someone came running up to us and said “We were listening and you can do the show from my garage.” It was Steve Nightingale from Steve Nightingale Auto BMW.

Chris carried on playing music whilst we set up at the garage in the old railway arches on Friargate.

Andy Palmer turned up with Marcus Carter from Scribble and a load of tunes.

This was to be the best radio broadcast ever to be heard in Derby. Marcus Carter had been at the Blue Note till about 3am and was still pissed. He was young, full of life and a very funny bloke.

When he got on the air the first thing he said was he wanted a fit bird to bring him his breakfast. Within about 5 mins a woman turned up with a bacon cob!

Steve Nightingale was working on his BMWs but today was different. There was a disco going on outside. It was a warm spring day, the sun was burning off the morning mist.

Marcus said “Ok, time for today's phone in competition. You have to ring in with rude names for car parts.” Someone rang in and said “Pistons,” then “Wankel rotary engine” and so on. We used Steve Nightingale's phone as the main phone number.

When it came to news time Marcus said “Hold on, my watch is wrong. How will I know when it's news time and how will I know when it finishes and we are back live on air?”

A taxi pulled up and dropped someone off. He said “Ey up mate, tune your radio to 105.8 so I can hear it.” The driver tuned us in. Marcus could hear himself echoing around the place. It was about 30 seconds to news time. He said “Chris, play us a jingle if you can hear us.” Chris played a Radfred jingle. Marcus said “This is fun. Can you hear me Chris?” They ended up talking over the air till the chap came on and said “Independent Radio News, it's ten o'clock.”

The taxi stayed there with its doors open till after the news was finished and we were back live.

Several people including the local paper came down and were interviewed. Mat Chell and his band turned up and joined the fun. It was truly amazing that this broadcast came from nowhere. Marcus Carter ran another competition: “The first one in the offices on Friargate to pull a Moonie (bare their bum) wins a prize.”

Someone did and the people from the office came down and gave us an interview and joined the fun.

This was just brilliant fun to do and everyone involved was buzzing. We had such a good team of people. I was so proud to have put this together. I was getting so much praise for putting on the radio and paying for it out of my own pocket.

Liz was proud of me too. She was busy looking after my little lad Harvey but knew I was having the time of my life.

It came to the close down party hosted by the person who started the whole thing off: Tip Toe Tony, and Mark Sheldon. We passed rumours round town that the club would be open late. Everyone was allowed upstairs into the studio. I said that no matter how long it took we would thank everyone personally for their help with the radio and we would say what they had done.

The list was 6 pages long. It had over 200 names on it. Tony went through it and played music between the credits. This took 2 hours. The studio was packed, and so was the nightclub. The station was a massive success. There has been nothing like it since and I doubt never again will anything unite the young people of Derby like that broadcast did. There have been some RSL stations but they seem to be more about promoting their ambitions rather than providing a service.

Ten seconds to go. The last jingle played. I had to walk the walk, from studio A down the corridor to the bog where the radio transmitter lived. I felt sad and I think I cried as I turned off the power.

I went onto the roof. You could still hear the cheering in studio A. The monitor radio had band noise hissing from it. I hate the sound of band noise. I think there should be a station on every available channel but it don't work like that in this country.

My dad rang me up and congratulated me on a very good station. He said it was sad to see it go off air.

Radio Freedom RSL one was the pinnacle of my life's achievements. It would come to haunt me in later life of what I could achieve if given the opportunity, but as more mundane problems grew this would become more and more unlikely to repeat.

We partied all night but I was unhappy. I did not like the quietness. It was time to come down to earth and work out how to pay the debts of the club.

The radio had got punters back into the Rock House but it did not look sustainable.

Andy Palmer said “Let's take a break and resume in two weeks.”

I took Liz and Harvey to our cottage in Branscombe. I walked over the hills and along the pebble beach wondering how I could recreate the fun I had just had.

When I got back from Branscombe, I met Andy Palmer to discuss my future. He persuaded me not to close. It should be re-fitted and re-named. He asked me to think of a name. It could not imply Rock. It had to be a neutral sounding name.

I came up with the shit name The Future Club. I chose this because of its optimistic overtones. In 1996 everyone was looking towards the millennium and the future so that's why I picked it.

Andy Palmer said he would oversee the re-fitting and re-branding of the nightclub during the summer provided I got rid of my promotions manager Andy Sewell who he was sure did not support us.

I agreed and said I would close the place for the summer to give us time to refit the building.

In the back of my mind I knew that if this worked then maybe we could do another radio station, so it was maybe worth a shot.

It was either that or shut down for good and me go and work at Asda or be a fork truck driver.

Yet Another Manager - Jazz 1999

We had just finished Radio Freedom RSL 3 in the spring of 1999. Mat had done an excellent job of running the Future Club and doing his breakfast show with Chris Miles.

After the radio had finished there was always the characteristic depression. From being a busy bustling building it went to being quiet and still, back to the mundane business of trying to get the kids to come to our nightclub and not go to the union bars or Eclipse.

I had pulled out of the pub watch scheme when the Dial got busted by the drug squad a few years previous. I saw it as an act of betrayal by the police given the commitments that the drug squad had given to the trade. They said “Work with us and you won't get busted.”

It implied that Artel had not been working with them when he got busted. He did however win his case but by that time he lost his license and the building was conveniently bought by the students union. It became the Union bars run by Mat McGuiness with his company Five Toes.

Jaz Rhy from the Loft (formerly Paul Needham's Warehouse) was a major contributor to the pub watch. He went to all the meetings and made sure he supported all the police initiatives. I got a tip off like I usually did when there was going to be a police raid. My contact told me that someone was going to get a bust and it could be me.

I could quite believe it because I operated outside the pub watch and had sent my resignation letter to the licensing inspector when Artel got raided.

Would you believe it, Jazz got the raid. His club was closed down. I was surprised because Jazz had a good relationship with the police, but his dance nights were doing well so maybe it was getting out of control.

Mat Chell was my manager. He made a massive ‘F’ for Future sign for the front of our building.

As I said before Mat was beginning to drink at night after the club till all hours.

He also had a few problems at home. His girlfriend left him I think.

He became ill and was obviously unhappy. I think my shitty club took its toll on Mat just as it did with Andy Palmer.

He decided to leave and try to get his girlfriend back which he did successfully. They got married I think and had children. Mat got a proper job working in education. He will look back on his time at the club and view it as the dark days, but it was not. Mat was creative and a talented articulate radio presenter.

I knew that my back was against the wall. It was getting difficult to keep staff because of the stresses of trying to run a club with no cash.

I was walking down the old railway test track path at Mickleover with Liz and my son Harvey. We were talking about Mat and the drugs bust at the Loft.

She said why not ring up Jazz and ask him to run the club. My management style was to find someone with ideas and help them turn them into reality. Maybe it showed a lack of confidence on my part to have a manager but that's how it was.

Jazz did not really like me or the unorthodox way I did things. I took out my mobile and rang him. He said give me an hour to think about it.

When we were just finishing the walk Jazz called back. He said yes he would accept the job and would meet me to discuss it.

I don't think Jazz liked the way I knicked Gordy's Time Tunnel from him the year before.

Jazz did not like rockers. He wanted to make the Future trendy. He brought new staff with him: Juliette, and some D.J.s with him. He also wanted Andy Sewel to put some bands on Fridays again.

I had found out that Andy Sewel had been ordering posters for the Loft and charging them to my account so I was not too happy with this.

Jazz tried a few ideas on the weekend nights but they did not work too well. He tried a night called Root Down drum and bass.

We kept Travelling Without Moving, Smokescreen and turned the rock night into classic rock once a month.

I knew that Jazz was applying for jobs. He did not like working at the Future but it was a stepping stone for him.

Jazz only stayed for a few months before he left. I got a letter asking for a reference. He rang me and asked me to fill it in.

I gave him a good reference. He got the job, managing a big posh place in Nottingham.

When I left the industry 2 years later I could not find anyone that would give me a reference.

More bailiff actions against the nightclub during that summer left us without the basics to continue. No furniture, no tills, the phone cut off and we were put on weekly payments of rent instead of quarterly. The tax man/woman had put me on cash only payments delivered in person to their office in Chesterfield.

I was about to employ my last manager to help me. I had noticed how hard Marcus Shukla had worked on his night Travelling Without Moving. He could see the position I was in but he was out of work and had the time.

I contacted Marcus and offered him the job of managing the Future and taking us into the new millennium.

Marcus - The Struggle Continues 1999

With Mat Chell and Jazz gone I felt really alone, and I was running out of ideas to save the business. Trade was so erratic, it had too many peaks and troughs.

Back in the 80s and 90s we took the same money each week. I looked back to the time that I sacked Paddy our long established rock D.J for only getting 343 in.

Now we struggled to get 80 in on any night. Jaz had tried “Threesome” his dance night that had failed. I managed to persuade Ian Banks who worked on the radio to take over Fridays for a while but that was also a flop.

Travelling Without Moving was a deep house sound system, like Smokescreen but from Derby. It featured some good D.J.s: Lee Whitehead, Scot from BPM records, Andy Macalister and Marcus Shukla.

Lee Whitehead designed the posters for the night. Marcus went out putting them everywhere.

You could not move in the town without seeing one or having a flyer stuffed in your hand.

Marcus would be outside every club handing them out and when Smokescreen was playing they would be standing outside inviting the punters back for their night.

I phoned Marcus up and talked about the manager's job. He was well aware of my difficulties and knew that it was not going to be easy. Clubs were having a bad time generally, some had already closed.

He accepted the job and started work on the following Tuesday.

Jazz had left us with some good staff: Ann Marie and Juliette were extremely hardworking and more importantly committed staff. Greg and Chris Miles were still there. It looked like we had a bit of a team, mostly young people which is how it should be.

Word spread that I had employed Marcus. He was only 20 but he had one quality which would stand him in good stead and keep us going for another two years: he was not intimidated by anyone or anything.

I could see I was going to get on with him. I can't stand weak men, especially when there are difficult situations to deal with on a daily basis. With Marcus running the place with me it gave us the chance to work out how best to reverse the trend of low numbers.

We realised that if we were to survive we may have to break a few rules. We would have to be much more aggressive on the advertising front.

Marcus saw Ian Banks involved in an incident outside. It may have involved a female. It was enough for him. “We don't need staff like that,” he said. Ian agreed to leave but said he would still do the radio if we needed him.

Marcus started a new Friday night. It was similar to what we used to do. It was called “Confusion” with D.J.s Lindsey, Dave, Emma and Will.

Having 4 D.J.s involved was interesting. They all had friends and were young. The last thing the kids want to see on their night out is D.J.s old enough to be their dads playing the music.

So although this sounds ageist it's the truth about club life. Within two months we were getting 400 in every Friday night.

Lindsey got a band called Light-year to play a free gig. It was bloody rammed. We had now got a regular Friday night working, and actually managed to get BT to re-connect the phone. I also paid the public liability insurance for once!

Saturdays began to get busy. Smokescreen were still getting 600 in but they got half the door. Travelling Without Moving about 300, Simon Bassline Smith Drum and Bass about 200 punters and the classic rock 450 so it was not looking too bad.

I still owed the council £8000 quid in business rates but it had gone to court and I offered to pay £150 a week which was accepted.

Marcus said we must do better with the advertising. We went to Harlow's timber works and ordered 300 A2 sized hard boards.

I took Marcus, Greg, Kev Clancy all over the east midlands putting these things up, mostly advertising Travelling, but it got our name out on the streets.

I came up with the idea that we should hit the big supermarkets, on the basis that on a Wednesday potential customers had not made their mind up about the weekend and were more open to suggestion.

When someone had already decided to go to the Blue Note they would defend their choice, so you had to get them early before they had planned the weekend out.

Derby City council started to get heavy with the clubs. They employed an ex-copper called Craig Keen to carry out inspections and licence renewals.

He was given the title of liaison officer but in their literature he was referred to as an enforcement officer.

I mounted a campaign to have him removed. I was against the idea of surprise inspections during opening hours. Mainly because we would get shut down!

I argued that there were 143 different conditions that a licence must comply with, and to inspect these whilst the club was open would be a distraction.

I wrote to the council and told them that I would not co-operate and would be following the protocol that I had drawn up, and that I would be asking other members of the trade to sign up to it also.

It was called the ENFORCEMENT OFFICER INSPECTION PROTOCOL. I circulated this to all members of the trade. It basically said that if there was an inspection during opening hours all management and staff would immediately stand down, leave their posts and go outside the building. It would then make the inspection impossible and give them the responsibility for the customers inside.

Basically the licence was responsible for customers but if someone from outside was going against this understanding then they took on the responsibility for public safety from that moment.

I made it clear in writing that this is how we would deal with such an inspection.

Jazz supported the police and council-look where it got him. All my staff agreed so I put up a staff notice telling them that if we get raided they must leave their post immediately and blend in with the punters.

This aggressive stance worked. We never got an inspection during club hours, good job because we were always rammed!

When Craig Keen came to the club by appointment Marcus did not submit to his authority. He treated him like the failed ex-pig that he was.

Yes he made us tidy up the wiring and get the hot water working in the gents bog but that's about all he got out of us.

Something I found insulting about Craig Keen is that he criticised our opening check routine. Every night that the club had been open I personally checked (by opening) all our fire exits, right through to the street. I tested the emergency lights, fire extinguishers for tampering every single night.

This was done and signed for, and put in the safe. I had done that for nearly 20 years without ever forgetting. So that ex-pig could not tell me what to do. He said we should use standard forms. I said I will continue to use my book which had been accepted by the fire officer.

We spread propaganda about Craig Keen and tried to make his job hard. Sure enough he went and was replaced by another college boy.

This is why I liked Marcus because he stood up to the establishment. He took no shit off anyone. Our door staff Stan called him “Ghandi” in view of his race but Marcus was used to that.

When it came to challenging situations on the door Marcus backed up his staff if they were right and told them straight if they got it wrong.

He earned the respect of the door men. Once again we had a little cash flow and the inevitable question of the radio came up: shall we apply for an RSL in the autumn?

We had got a few quid so why not. I wrote to the radio authority and got a licence for mid October lasting for a month.

Unfortunately I had fallen out with Bob over money during the last broadcast, so there was no point asking him and Meesha to get the advertising.

I said to Marcus we need the radio to keep punters interested in the club. Marcus was a long standing listener to Freedom. He reckons he listened to it when he was only ten so he was happy to do it, and it gave Travelling Without Moving a platform on air.

On this broadcast I wanted to try a religious program so I put an advert in the paper and got a lovely African couple to present their show live on Sunday mornings at 7am till 9.

RSL 4 began but Marcus insisted that we publicise our nights and back off from other clubs. We needed to get something from out of the radio so we persuaded all our D.J.s to do their own programmes. Fridays and Tuesdays had the Confusion radio show hosted by Dudley Dave, Lindz and Emma—it went down well. Simon Bassline did a show called Root Down, Travelling Without Moving had their own program and even Smokescreen did an all-nighter. The only problem was that at 6:30 am the religious presenters would arrive. I would have to get rid of all the empty cans of Stella and joints, and get some fresh air in the studio, so I had to stay all night.

RSL 4 was ok. It cost the club 5 grand but it was worth it. We had bands playing and did stuff from the Vic. I had an advert on the radio advertising the club for sale. This was a mistake and it showed I was uncertain about my future. It can't have done staff morale any good. They deserved better because of how hard they were working. I tried to make out it was only for sale at the right price.

It's hard to remember much about this broadcast but I do remember the punk show as being very funny. Our old friends from Sheffield Sparky and Mule did Techno/drum and bass, and we had a good program of folk music on Friday nights.

RSL 4 finished in November 1999. It did its job of bringing us together. It was not as exciting as the previous 3 but maybe it was because we were all used to doing them and it was becoming normal. I see radio and clubs as mutually beneficial and I would still recommend any nightclub have its own station. Indeed I have always believed DERBY COUNTY should get a radio station of their own and kick out BBC radio Derby because all they do is slag the club off on air.

It was only one month to go till the start of the new millennium. After the radio finished there was a bit of a downturn in trade, which could not have come at a worse time because I had to pay the radio authority five thousand quid. The performing rights society sent us a big bill for 7 thousand and the council sent another demand for the next lot of business rates. This left me in a bit of a fix just before Christmas.

The Final Year 2000

Marcus had got us through the millennium night. We were stronger for it but still there were cash flow problems to resolve.

It was obvious that if we went to cash and carry again they would stop the account because of the rubber cheques issued before Christmas.

Marcus gave Stan his 500 quid back. Good job because doormen are only your friends till you owe them money then it's a completely different story.

Stan the man had worked for me for 8 years. I had an understanding that I would never sack him no matter how bad things got because he was the only one to come to my house and help fight off the bailiffs when I had a visit.

The police and bailiffs were at my house emptying the contents into a white van. I asked Stan if he could prevent them going upstairs.

He told the bailiffs in front of two coppers: “Look mate you don't go up these stairs or I will twat you, do you get my drift.”

The bailiffs stripped the downstairs but all my radio equipment upstairs was not touched.

Later that year Stan had the same problem. He owed money and had them round his house.

I wrote Stan a letter saying he could use the amplifiers and music, but he must return them in original condition and that they belonged to the nightclub.

That letter saved Stan losing his entire record collection because I said it was club property.

I got put in a tricky position when Stan asked for a pay rise, right at the time when I was skint. I said look Stan where is the cash going to come from, we are empty most of the time.

Stan, Deck and Richard did not see it quite like that. Tempers were getting frayed on the Friday night in February 2000. Our door staff saw it as me taking the piss. They were working till later and expected a higher rate after 2am.

It was Smokescreen the following night. We were well used to Deck turning up an hour late, but Stan only lived up the road so it was alarming when he failed to show up.

Marcus said we will delay the opening till 11 and see what happens. We had an enormous queue outside but had no doormen, so me and Marcus let the punters in slowly.

Once we got them into the club I phoned up a doormen agency and got temporary staff.

This was the start of the doormen strike that was to last nearly a year.

I said I would pay the agency staff in cash on the night. However one of them got arsey. He said this place is bloody packed, how many does it hold, if you expect us to work over the fire limit we want more cash.

It was heaving. Smokescreen was the only night that filled the place, but it was not as good as it seemed because we had to split the door 50/50. I was left with the overheads.

I said I would not be using those staff again. I put advert in the paper but only had three applicants. One was a coloured chap, who had just come out of prison, will try to remember his name. The other one was a chap who was very professional, he had finished his tour of duty in military police. A brilliant doorman but just not up to the stature of Stan, Deck and Rich. The DLF football skinheads came in on the Friday night. They sensed a weakness because Deck and crew were gone, it kicked off, and I think I had to call the police. This was un-heard of.

I had to stand the military chap down but I apologised to him and said I had made a recruiting error and in no way must he think that it was his fault. I really wanted to keep him in post but I am sure I was exposing him to danger.

I kept the coloured chap because I wanted to show that giving someone a chance after prison was the right thing to do. He was a big bloke and could have been moulded into part of a team.

I asked Marcus if he knew anyone who could help. He said I will ask Keith and maybe my brother may do it.

Keith and Marcus's brother started work the following week, and worked with the coloured chap whose name escapes me!

The thing about Keith was that he was clever and studied law but came from the west end. I felt that he was always wanting to prove himself.

However whilst he worked for me he did not question my judgement. I rather think that in his early days he had some respect for me.

Keith would be there till the very end. He was someone to talk to when things turned to shit which they definitely did.

It was not long before our new team got a test, but they stood up well. It was again a Smokescreen night, it was absolutely packed.

At about 12-ish I asked the doormen to do a full fire door inspection every 15 minutes.

I used to do this inspection if we were grossly overloaded. Every 15 minutes the doormen would inspect the fire exits for obstruction and sign a sheet to say they did it and alert me or Marcus of any problems.

The idea behind this was if we had to evacuate the club then we would not get caught out by sabotage. In the past parked cars and large steel bins moved into exit doors, you could not be complacent when dealing with customers lives.

We had done the one in one out thing but we needed the cash. By slowing the rate of entry to the club then at least the overload time could be minimised.

Chris, Marcus's brother, carried up a collapsed woman. She was in the bottom corridor of the central stairs.

Either her friends called an ambulance or we did, can't remember.

Bearing in mind that I had foiled a drug raid on Smokescreen years previously, the old bill were aware of what Smokescreen was about.

This was by far our biggest night, 700 punters we used to finish at about 2am.

Just as we were cleaning up the room after a busy night, the police turned up. We were told that this was a crime scene and we were to leave immediately.

Blue and white tape and a road block was placed outside on Babington Lane.

During this time we were on bailiff alert so at the end of each night we would hide some sound equipment, and lock all the furniture in the cloakroom.

The police asked me for the keys to the nightclub. I gave them up, and never got them back.

At the road block we asked the police what this was all about. This is where they got clever. They said that a girl was fighting for her life in hospital. She had been injured by a sharp edge on a metal chair and it had punctured her lungs.

This was disturbing because I was aware we had stored amongst the furniture in the cloakroom broken stools awaiting disposal or repair. They did not get put out in the club but we could not prove that because all the chairs were in there.

I see this as very sinister on the part of the police. In the space of an hour they had found a way of putting me in an almost indefensible position.

The reason for doing this was to put us off the real scent, that was that this was a drugs overdose and I rather think they hoped she would die so they could stitch us up.

Me and Marcus knew the story of the chair was made up but nevertheless we had to listen to the local news like everyone else to see what cracked off.

It was found that she had taken a horse tranquiliser instead of an ecstasy tablet and survived.

The police decided to give advice on the radio Derby about safe use of drugs, and we heard nothing about this again.

I did not get the keys back and had to get new ones cut.

It was a lesson that the police will find a vulnerability and exploit it. They are not stupid. This was done at a high level and it was a warning that they had woken up.

I remember taking the arty broken stool that was my souvenir from the Dial to the tip, and throwing it over the wall. It was a metal tulip type thing made at the university.

This was our last involvement with the police. They did not come back again, but I was glad. This episode made them more of a threat if they were going to use noble cause corruption on us.

The Final Year Part Two

At the beginning of the year we had a letter from the brewery telling us that we were not achieving targets for beer sales and that this was in violation of our trading agreement.

One of the main reasons for this was that we were getting most of our stock from cash and carry. We could not allow the brewery to pull out because of the substantial loan we had with them.

This loan was interest free whilst sales targets were being met but at 15% interest if trade was too slow.

Typical capitalist situation: they sting you when you can least afford to pay. Marcus negotiated new terms with the rep, so for a few weeks we gave them nearly all the trade back. This was ok because we owed Booker's Cash and Carry about a grand.

On our next visit to Booker's I was asked to go to the manager's office. He said the account will be closed unless we paid off the outstanding balance.

The manager was a decent chap. He said if he passed this onto head office we would have the account closed and recovery action taken against me. However because of our long trading record with them the local branch would stand the debt, provided we start paying it off and pay for all new purchases with good old cash.

It took about 3 months to completely pay them back but this arrangement worked. We had some respect for Booker's for saving the millennium night.

During the summer of 2000 trade kept fluctuating. Some nights were rammed and then the week after they would be dead.

Our door team were getting on ok: Ben, Keith, Chris and occasionally Richard who came back to spy on us and break the strike!

Keith said he had seen David Romain from the environmental health department taking readings of the sound levels in the street.

I went to have a look, he was right. I said if you go and grab the device off him I will give you 200 quid.

Keith was not happy with this. It was the only time he did not carry out my request.

As you would expect a letter arrived from the council saying that if the sound levels were over 80 dB at 4m from the boundary of the building they would issue a noise abatement notice. They said that they could clearly hear the bass.

I told the council I would not be making any changes to my sound system and took it as a complement that bass frequencies were audible, especially given it was a Drum and Bass night.

A few weeks later Mr Romain was back, to take his reading. I almost went out to him myself. I wish my doorman had gone out and smashed up his meter. But I knew that I did not have their support in doing what would have been common assault if he resisted.

In November a bundle of papers were hand delivered through the front doors. It was a noise abatement notice. If we violated this notice I could be fined up to £10,000 and/or 2 years imprisonment.

The irony was that we were making most noise when the club was only half full. The council took readings again during a Smokescreen night. We were running the usual 10,000 watts.

This issue seemed to go away. It looked like we had got away with it.

I wanted to run the radio again but could not afford it so I asked the radio authority if we could have our 28 day licence split up into weekends, but they said no.

Marcus would not allow me to blow the last few quid on another radio station. I asked the D.J.s if they would pay a little towards a 3 day ticket over the bank holiday.

It was only 250 quid so on we went. Travelling Without Moving, Smokescreen and our Friday Confusion presenters did shows.

This was to be Radio Freedom's last legal broadcast. It was good fun but no one listened apart from us lot. However it did not cost anything because the presenters paid to go on air.

I made another massive blunder which haunts me to this day. I decided to sell my first house 146 Brackens Lane. I bought this house in 1981 and owned it outright. It took ages to sell, the market was in a slump. The estate agent said “Mr Johnson you have to be realistic, if you want to sell it then drop the price to £27,950 then it may sell.”

Eventually it did but it did not really help the club's finances.

Trade was ticking over, even Fridays were showing signs of trouble. Andy Sewel could see I was in the shit. He asked me if he could put a couple of bands on so I said ok. He asked for a Friday night. I agreed but this was a mistake because it would disrupt the indie night, and Andy charged about 8 quid to get in. I let him put on two gigs, one was called Less than Jake.

I had never heard of them. Andy put 650 punters in the place. During the encore Keith said to me he was sure the floor was going to give way. The P.A. system came down into the crowd but Ben saved anyone from getting hurt. Keith told me that I had damaged the floor and we could not do that again.

I said to Andy Sewel he could only have 450 in to the next gig which was on the following Friday.

He said he had already sold 600 tickets. A radio ham who worked as an engineer was at Less than Jake. He came up to me and said “Hay up Paul I think your floor was moving too much, I was shitting myself, I half expected to end up in the shop.”

I took this seriously so I called in a structural engineer to inspect the floor joists and steel supports.

The club was closed until the following Friday. Keith and what's his name who played footy at JJB, came in and began removing the floor boards as requested by the structural engineer.

We put a camera on a boom with a light and commenced the survey. SHOCK HORROR, all the joists under the dance floor were split for most of their length and there was evidence of rot and damage to the joist ends on the street side, possibly caused by cleaning or leaks seeping from the canopy outside.

His report suggested that the 7 inch joists were designed to fit into 5 inch steels with a slot cut into the ends to allow the extra 2 inches above.

He said that in his opinion the wood was not properly seasoned when the building was constructed in the 1930s, and it had shrunk over time. This resulted in the floor timbers hanging off the top 2 inches, instead of seating on the RSJ. The dynamic load of customers jumping up and down rhythmically caused the wood to split. There was a real possibility of a structural failure of the floor. He advised putting steel packers under the bottom of each joist end to bring the load back onto the RSJ. We went to Eggleston's brothers and got the steel and used sledge hammers to drive them into the gaps under the joists.

He carried out his inspection again to check on the work we had done. It was passed off, with the proviso that we reduced dynamic loads in front of the stage.

I was in a bloody fix because of Andy Sewel. He had sold 600 tickets when he knew it was a 350 capacity venue. It was on my shoulders, not his, if it went tits up.

I had to either cancel his next gig or find a solution to our floor loading problem. As usual I hit on a compromise that he hated.

We would spread the load by restricting the numbers of people on the dance floor, and moving the crowd back so as to keep them off the damaged timbers.

Marcus contacted the council and hired some crowd barriers. We put them in front of the stage but left a big gap. We made sure that the first 3 rows would be jumping up and down on a steel girder bit of the floor not a timber joist!

We got 20 people in yellow jackets to surround the dance floor linking arms like the police do at the match.

This was the most brilliantly stewarded event we had ever done. Keith, Marcus and his mate were professional in running this operation. They knew the gravity of the situation.

If we had not taken this action the floor may well have gone through. If it had we fully expected lives to be lost in the crush, and if there had been a fire in the shop below, which was likely in this event, those that survived the fall would have been locked in because of the grills on Reliance's windows and doors. It does not bear thinking about.

I cancelled all planned gigs from that day on. We decided to stick more closely to the fire limit. But that would no longer be an issue because of low numbers.