Bio

What band wouldn't be without a biography section and Old Blue are no exception.So without further ado,OBM are proud to present ours......and not a word of lies....err....just click a mugshot for all to be revealed!

Martin Sanford-Hayles - Lead Vocals, Public Harassment and Intimidation

martin-hayles-mugshot.jpg At the tender of age of seven, Martin was forced into the Hammersmith Odeon with a packet of crisps and some rolos and made to watch a little known band called The Beagles. At the request of his long suffering and older sister he was also told not to make any noise whilst the band was playing. Suffice to say that after making much noise whilst the support acts were on (a little known band called The Yardbirds, some performing dogs [The Beverley Sisters?] and Roy Castle), which he thoroughly enjoyed, his dear sister throw out the rule book and screamed herself hoarse, deafening the poor lad in the process. His deafness remains to this day, and despite efforts to the contrary by OBM, no-one, but no-one can convince him that the leader of The Beagles, a certain Paul Myhurtknee, is in fact a clue to the severity of this early deafening experience.
His disability, far from discouraging him, led him to don a pair of loon pants and grow his hair waist length in a vain attempt to woo the lead guitarist of the school band Cripple Chicken .His attempts failed spectacularly, but negotiations were only concluded after a dramatic altercation in a public subway when the Chickens' (now renamed Mad Wilf 2) bassist let leash his Rickenbacker on our hero's head.
Undeterred, and feeling that the music industry would be poorer without him, he decided to form his own outfit after bumping into an alien called Mick Brennan, who he caught snogging a rather delectable girl with teeth braces that would not have looked out of place in Surrey Scaffoldings' yard. Sadly for him, the alien concurred and thus was formed the stunningly named Poor Mans Wealth. Interestingly, this also featured three guitarists, obviously feeding Martin's enthusiasm for the big band feel, only cheaper because electric guitars were more expensive and a distant dream. The band stormed the Surrey acoustic circuit only ending dramatically in the rhythm guitarist's bathroom (their first album studio) after Martin refused to leave the only seat in the room and allow his fellows to relieve themselves after a hard afternoon's drinking.
Depressed he moved onto to Drama (fame was not going to elude him), signing up for every known agency on the planet. He fell into adverts and bit parts, but was not seriously injured. Even today he can be seen on celluloid, bursting out of John Hurt's stomach in 'Alien'.

So on to today; what can we say of this front man whose dual disabilities of deafness and Rickenbacker migraines are regularly unleashed on an unsuspecting public........?
Some things you should know:-

  • He has played with four top name bands including Blodwyn Pig, Hatfield And The North, His Majesty And The Big Cream Doughnuts, and Audience (a short lived percussion solo) and all without leaving his bedroom.
  • Mastered the air guitar age 3.
  • Mastered the stick guitar (his mum's broom) age 4.
  • Failed the real thing age 7.
  • Took up piano age 8.
  • Gave up piano age 8½ after piano teacher committed suicide.
  • Gave up thoughts of suicide age 9.
  • Gave up age 9 when he was 10.
  • Took up harmonica age 11 after bumping into Larry Adler in Woolworth's.
  • Gave up harmonica after swallowing reeds #4 and #5

Editors Note: This piece was written by Martin. All by himself. Solo. Unassisted. The only changes made have been spelling, grammar, syntax, style, content, format, font size, humour and the truth. Apart from that, all his own work. Well done Mart.

Ron Hall - Rhythm Guitar & Drinking The Profits

ron-hall-mugshot.jpgBorn 16th January 1953 in Chichester, West Sussex. Insisted on living in a supermarket trolley until 17 years old - this may explain subsequent behavioural anomalies.
Grammar school education during the 1960s. Whilst the rest of the country enjoyed several years of cultural revolution, Chichester restricted it's youth renaissance activities to about seven weeks in 1968. It was during this time that a painfully adolescent Ron saw a local band at a school disco. Nothing would ever be the same again; the name of the band was Magic Shrapnel.

Something about the hideously distorted sound, appalling hairstyles, and 17-minute drum solos struck a chord with the angst-ridden Ron, and he embarked on a frenzy of musical activity, working with such bands as Sneezy Weasel, Pants and Let's Get Plastered. Eventually, he realised that to make further progress, it would be necessary to (a) learn to play an instrument and (b) do something about the acne.
Several days with the Bert Weedon songbook and a selection of creams and potions did the trick, and Ron was sufficiently transformed to form the truly legendary Frincky Tim with a group of schoolmates. They had a strong single-mindedness about achieving their 15 minutes of fame; sadly, when it arrived, fame lasted several minutes short of the full quarter hour, and they split up due to musical differences and an unpleasant misunderstanding involving the drummer's girlfriend.

Deeply wounded by these early setbacks, Ron sought fulfillment in other areas. A short but spectacular career in the RAF was followed by a longer, but even more spectacular career in air traffic control. Emerging from these diversions in the early 1990s, Ron realised that he had survived psychedelia, heavy rock, glam rock, pub rock, volcanic rock, disco, punk, the new romantics, Britpop, grunge and Showaddywaddy without contributing a single thing to any of them. It was time to join the game again.
And so he became sound engineer with Farnham legends Watt. After some months, he realised that staring at a mixing desk without a clue how to work it was getting him nowhere. It would be much more fun to strap on a guitar without a clue how to work it. So he did, and he has never looked back.
Well, he did look back a bit, but the view was always the same - no band in their right mind would hire him.
UNTIL.........one evening after a crate or two of Goering's Triple Strength Export Draincleaner in the company of Martin 'Goldenthroat' Hayles and Mick 'To Be Fair' Brennan, a plot was hatched; they would form a band OF THEIR VERY OWN!!!!!!!! Never mind lack of funds, questionable musical ability, advanced middle age, looks that only a mother could love and a tendency to fall over a lot - only one thing could stand in their way. They had to find a memorable name.

This was the start of a nightmare journey involving libraries, public archives, NATO, dictionaries, thesauruses (or is it thesauri?), the Samaritans and, inevitably, the pub. Rejected names included Fred Zeppelin, The Faeces, The Small Faeces (patently untrue), The Beatles (could lead to litigation) and Hammer Smack The Crow Toad (for obvious reasons). Eventually, Oh Bloody Hell became Old Broody Mare which evolved into Old Blue Moses.

A few years down the line, life with Old Blue Moses has taught Ron a golden lesson - talent is an unnecessary encumbrance. Long live rock.

Michael 'Bren' Brennan - Lead Guitar, Short Arms, Deep Pockets

michael-brennan-mugshot.jpgOn August 17th 1957, the National Transmissions Monitoring Center in Albuquerque, New Mexico, intercepted a short burst of radio traffic, broadcast on what appeared to be a ULF (ultra-low frequency) waveband. It lasted just under 11 seconds and would have been dismissed as deep space noise from a dying star had it not been for one thing - a series of regularly timed pulses which appeared to be using the radio frequency as a carrier wave. They were faint, but quite distinct, and their symmetry and regularity indicated an intentional signal, as opposed to random radio noise.
 
This in itself was enough to cause great interest and a degree of alarm. The Cold War was escalating as information came from the East that the Russians were about to launch something called Sputnik -
apparently an artificial satellite. No-one knew what it was intended to do and there were fears in the Pentagon that its purpose was not entirely benign. Was this transmission connected to the mysterious Sputnik?
 
What was in little doubt was that the signal had not originated from an earthbound source. The trajectory and strength indicated an origin in the vicinity of Titan, the largest of Saturn's eighteen moons and this brought fresh panic. It was just conceivable that the Russians had managed to launch a space vehicle capable of making the transmission, but it was unthinkable that it should have got as far as Saturn without anybody noticing. This had to mean that it was not of terrestrial origin.
 
Two years passed with little more than speculation as to what the signal was and where it had come from. In 1959, NASA's Ames Research Center started to manage the SETI programme - the Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence. UFO-mania had reached epidemic proportions in the US and elsewhere and wild rumours were circulating about a place called Roswell and a facility known as Area 51. SETI started to conduct searches in the quiet region of the electromagnetic spectrum (the so-called 'microwave window' between 1000 and 10,000 mHz) and made a startling discovery. Messages identical in structure to the original one were being received on almost a monthly basis, and were coming from much further away than Titan.
 
This was now approaching National Emergency proportions, and a frantic rush to decode the signal started. It took some time to separate the message from surrounding static and interplanetary noise and when this had been done, the data was passed to the West's encryption and decode agencies for analysis. Technology in the early sixties did not enjoy the sophistication we know today, and three years passed before a rough translation was available. The advent of encryption/decode computers in the early seventies made the task somewhat easier and in Spring 1978 a full text was available.
 
Twenty one years after it was first received, it made astonishing reading and went thus:

"People of Earth,
We from the planet Tharg salute you and wave our fingers at you in a pleasant fashion.
We have this day downloaded one of our kind to your world.
His name on our world is Brr'naaf Egad Nobhed and you shall know him as Bren.
He is wise in the way of stringed instruments (except banjo) and will cause delight amongst you, but not on Thursdays.
He is not of your species and you will not understand anything he says, but he is harmless
unless exposed to cheese scones and those of your kind known as women.
We are glad to see the back of him.
Live long and prosper."
 
If nothing else, the people of Tharg are at least refreshingly honest. Looks like we're stuck with him.

David Watterston 'AKA Braveheart' - 2nd Electric Lead & Comedy Guitar

david-watterston-mugshot.jpgA foreword from the editor:
I give up on this lot, I really do. You ask them for a few simple details of their life so far and what happens? They either scribble something unprintable on the back of a fag packet or they totally ignore the request. In some cases they send you enough boring information to fill three encyclopaedias and an index. Guess which road Braveheart went down? Read on, dear reader,
read on................
 
Early exposure to Elvis, Cliff, Beach Boys and Buddy Holly gave Dave the taste for music, especially R&B, skiffle and 'white' blues. Or is it 'blue' whites? No. that's washing powder. His elder siblings knew a guy who played in a band called Dean Ford & The Gaylords (oh dear). Sensibly, they changed their name to Marmalade and , less sensibly, murdered a Beatles' song called 'Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da'.
 
In 1962, at the age of 9, Dave was taken to a gig at the Kelvin Hall, Glasgow. On the bill were Jerry Lee Lewis, The Animals, Manfred Mann, and Gene Vincent. This made a big impression on Dave, but it was nothing compared to what happened when he went backstage to meet the bands. Chas Chandler (the Animals' bassist) beat Dave to a bloody pulp. Honestly. Then he gave him his autograph. A few years later, it was Chandler who brought Jimi Hendrix to England. Hendrix subsequently died. Hmm, perhaps Chandler beat him to a bloody pulp as well. No, of course it isn't true.
 
After his parents split up, Dave moved around, staying for a while in Rothesay on the Isle Of Bute. It was here that he saw gigs by The Humblebums (Billy Connolly & Gerry Rafferty) and Ambrose Slade, who became simply Slade. No, not like Simply Red, I mean they just called themselves Slade.......oh, it doesn't matter.
 
There are two things Dave (almost) remembers about his time on Bute. One is looking through someone's front room window while drunk as a skunk and watching the Apollo moon landing. I don't think so - these people didn't have a TV, so God knows what he was seeing. The second is becoming a mod. The only mod on Bute. Who rode a motor bike. Yes, Dave really got to grips with this mod thing all right.
 
Keen to repeat his phenomenal success as a mod, Dave headed south from Bute and made his way to the Isle of Wight festival in 1970, but ended up watching the whole thing from Desolation Hill because he'd left the tickets in London. Yep, mod to hippy genius without batting an eyelid.
 
Moving to Worcester Park, he began gigging with some friends called Five By Five. Inspired by early success they told Dave to go out and buy something decent. When he came back with a pizza, they had to sit him down in a corner and explain that they actually meant a guitar. Although he had set his heart on a Telecaster, it cost £175 and in 1970 that was a lot of money for Dave to find. Actually, it's still a lot of money for Dave to find. Come to think of it £1.75 is a lot of money for Dave to find. But I digress............
 
A defining moment for Dave at this time was meeting Pauline, now his wife. It was at a pub called The Three Fishes in Kingston. There is no truth in the ugly rumour that Pauline thought the place was called The Three Wishes and Dave was the consolation prize.
 
By now, Dave's younger brother Andy was making his mark on the music scene; after a job with Orange Amplification, he went on to work for Cliff Richard (second time he's been mentioned, hmmmmmmm), John Miles, and Jethro Tull. Andy was also offered work by Phil Collins and Jethro Tull's Ian Anderson, who wanted him to run his mobile studio, Moulin Rouge.
 
Insanely jealous, Dave went off to Zambia to sulk for a couple of months. Back in the UK a plot was hatched to keep him out of the country, and Pauline was smuggled out to Africa in a flight case to take his mind off things. Over the next three years he got over his tantrum, married Pauline, came back to the UK and in true rock'n'roll style, set up a surveying business.
 
Since joining OBM, Dave has had the opportunity to play with guys from Mike & The Mechanics, Edgar Broughton Band, the young prodigy Andy Cortes and a bloke who knew someone whose sister looked after a dog belonging to the gardener for a lady who lived over the road from a couple whose daughter once nearly went out with Jeff Beck.
 
It just doesn't get any better than that.

Jim (Blinding) Roberts - Drums, Percussion, Concussion

jim-roberts-mugshot.jpgVery much the quiet man of the band. Most of the time, you would hardly know he's there. Such an unobtrusive man, and yet there are hidden depths to this scholarly, unassuming character. Classically-trained, with an Honours Degree in Byzantine Architecture, Jim is never happier than when settling down to peruse some Proust - A La Recherche Du Temps Perdu being a particular favourite.
 
Much of his early life is shrouded in mystery, and it is only from his school years that records become available. Whilst at Charterhouse, he shone academically and on the sports field, representing his house and school at cricket, rugby, football and bricklaying. He was selected for trials with the England junior rowing team, but failed to make the final eight after his boat was mysteriously torpedoed on Staines reservoir.
 
Jim was awarded a Classics scholarship at Cambridge, and it was here, inevitably, that he was approached by MI5, who saw great potential in his razor-sharp intellect, not to mention his bricklaying skills. In his three years at university, he was able to undertake invaluable freelance intelligence work, particularly in the field of evaluating the Eastern Bloc Air Defence Strategy and the performance of their new air-superiority fighter aircraft.
 
He left Cambridge at the same time that the Cold War was ending and ventured into a military career, being commissioned in the Royal Greenjackets and seeing service in the Gulf and other overseas detachments too sensitive to mention. When not serving his country on active duty, Jim found time to become a Cordon Bleu chef, and wrote a wine column for The Sunday Telegraph. He also wrote his first novel "Scaffolding Made Easy" which was well-received in literary circles.
 
His musical interests had not been neglected during this time. He had mastered several mediaeval instruments (sackbut, froghorn and spitfiddle to name a few) but had become increasingly fascinated with percussion. Early experiments with drumkits containing semtex produced spectacular, but potentially lethal, results so a more conventional approach was adopted. Drawing on influences from Africa, India, Ireland and Hounslow, he evolved a playing style as unique as any of the acknowledged masters.
 
So what is left to achieve for this remarkable man? Already he is a chess grand master, an experienced helicopter pilot, holder of the World Land Speed Record and an authority on Bolivian insect life. He has been nominated for the Nobel Prize for literature, three Oscars and last year the French government awarded him the Legion d'Honneur. Perhaps the last words should go to the man himself:
 
"I just hit the drums, mate"

Keith Rowley - Saxophone, Harmonica, Loud Jacket

keith-rowley-mugshot.jpgWe here at OBM Archive Section are mystified. Such a prodigiously gifted man should surely have more personal details on record. Sadly, all that exists are the bare bones of what makes Keith tick. And yet, there lies a valid comparison; Keith Rowley/wristwatch. It all falls into place - he is rarely on time, his hands are all over the place and his face is always scratched. Let us examine the man behind the mouthpiece, the bard who puts the class into brass.
We have to assume certain things - normal gestation period, reasonably happy childhood and an adolescence containing no more than usual trauma. Having said that, there are onstage moments when Keith exhibits distressing tendencies; serial killer stare, a fondness for jackets that do not make sense, and an unhealthy willingness to stand near Bren. These are not behavioural normalities, dear reader, and surely do not bode well for the future. On the plus side, Keith does not consort with farmyard animals (ruins the blowing technique, apparently), and has never been a member of Pan's People.
So what do we know of this man? Musically, there are clues - he has, after all, been gigging in various bands for over 20 years, and has supported such luminaries as The Fabulous Thunderbirds, Chris Farlowe and Peter Green. A glittering CV indeed; it is now high time to stop claiming he is in his early thirties.
In addition to his formidable prowess with saxophone and harmonica, Keith is an accomplished guitarist. This does not sit well with the other three charlatans in the band who have already staked their claim in six-string heaven. Wisely, Keith has chosen to stick with what goes best in the OBM way of doing things - giving it a kick in the arse.

Keith once claimed that he is neither fast enough nor clever enough to play jazz, and that he prefers to go for the notes that really matter. Perfect. Old Blue Moses are not fast or clever, they think that Jazz used to be in a band with someone called Dave, and the notes that really matter carry the signature of the Chief Cashier of the Bank Of England. He will fit in very well.

Tracy Murphie (Vocals, Diva, Pocket Rocket & Prolific Drinker Of Fine Ales)

tracy-murphie-mugshot.jpg"There had been abuse in my family...but it was mostly musical in nature..."
For some bizarre and inexplicable reason, the Venezuelan Government, proud guardians of a very diversified country with high mountain ranges covered in snow, tropical beaches lined with palm trees, extensive plains and Amazon jungles, beautiful marine national parks and the world's highest waterfall, made an amazing decision in the late sixties. Unbeknown to its 24 million inhabitants, the government of the day had struck a secret deal with the Indians of the Amazonian basin to send forth "sleepers" to every corner of the earth with the intention of "Redefining musical diversity worldwide". Its was a simple plan, and if successful would bring Venezuelan fulia and gaita rhythms of the coastal regions to the worlds attention. But sixties Venezuela was not entirely ready for such audacious self-promotion and it was to go horribly wrong.

The staff of the Venezuelan Department of Interior Culture and Pot Plants had little concept of the world beyond Caracas, so it was no surprise that they mistook Armenia for America to be the launch place for the Minister to announce the project. It was however somewhat surprising that the announcement was going to be made in The Wheat House, poorly timed with the annual conference of the Armenian Licentious Victuallers Association. The matter was further compounded by the Ministers opening remarks "I plead with you, great peoples of the world to let us send you an envoy to all of your great establishments" or rather "Abogo por con, usted que la gran gente del mundo nos deja enviarle a un enviado a todos sus grandes establecimientos"

And thus started Tracy's journey from Caracas to the back street bars of the UK via a representative from Shepherds Neame Brewery. For several years Tracy had harboured the notion of a career in the music industry. Indeed Music was Tracy's first language. Her earliest memories of growing up in Caracas are full of song and dancing feet. "Music is part of every celebration and social occasion," she says. Of course there was hardship and abuse in my family but...it was mostly of a musical nature". By the time she was six Tracy could sing dozens of aguinaldos (holiday songs) and at the age of nine had her first and only lesson on the cuatro, which resulted in a terrifying death for the family cat.

Truth-seeker, creative soul, cultural fugitive and romantic rebel, Tracy fled Caracas in search of solace and fertile ground in the northwest of Cheam. She found herself digging below the surface of a landscape littered with Burger King, Britney Spears and Backstreet Boys, to uncover her country's hidden treasures. A fateful meeting with master musician, arranger, composer and terminal liar, Aquiles Báez in a friend's toilet made everything click. "Aquiles lives with one foot in Venezuela and one foot in the UK. We were instantly committed to working with the best, and we did. We just had to find them, learn to play some instruments, and somehow get out of the toilet alive" she later mused.

Plumbing the depths of passion and scaling the heights of joy, vocalist Tracy formed her first virtuoso ensemble, "Siete pintas de amargo y un paquete de patatas a la inglesa" (Seven dots of bitter and a package of potatoes to the English). The artist's velvet voice and impassioned interpretations breathed new life into the music of her homeland. She branched out musically-her first three albums venture into Brazilian, Latin Jazz and Nueva Canción and even Croydon Rap. Contemplating new directions for a fourth CD, Tracy felt her strong Venezuelan roots pulling her homeward, however The Bishops Finger Ale at The Firkin and Forgetum undoubtedly had the edge and thus her real musical destiny was born. The fourth album "El Hombre De Hoochie Coochie, La Mujer De Tonk Del Honky Y La Otra Gran Música Venezolana." (The Man De Hoochie Coochie, The Woman De Tonk Of The Honky And The Other Great Venezuelan Music -(Ducca Music) was a huge success and she has never looked back.
"I wanted to pay homage to our composers, the beloved Simón Diaz and the lesser known such as Maria Luisa Escobar" says Tracy, "Its just after fifteen pints of Old Growler they sound like pants, so I stuck in some T-Bone Walker, Bo Diddley and a bit of an Old Blue Moses original song I had found on a CD in a garage forecourt in Bromley".
It was that lost CD that did indeed bring her to join Old Blue Moses. Having heard the story of the Venezuelan musical sleepers and desperately in need of a free holiday they scoured the sumptuous landscape of Venezuelan music, only to find a gutsy, soulful blues singer downing her ninth pint of Black Sheep.
Tracy's journey to Old Blue is rich with nature, culture and tradition, yet bursts with ingenuity and creativity. It's amazing what the girl will do to get to the pub...

Ladies and Gentlemen, we give you Tracy "Diva" Murphie.

Quivering John Levermore - Keyboards,Stern Looks,No Messing About

At last a bit of backbone in the ranks of OBM.For some time it has been apparent that what this band needs is some good, old-fashioned discipline,and now it has arrived in the form of Mr Levermore (as he prefers to be known by lesser band members). Make no mistake,ladies and gentlemen,the straight face and schoolmasterly image are not simply there for the benefit of intimidating unruly audiences. Oh no. Put simply, he scares the living bejazus out of us.

For example at our very first rehearsal with Mr Levemore (yes,even I have to call him that) we were all put in detention after a particularly intrusive (and unpleasant) incident of wind breaking from the direction of our lead guitarist (no names,no pack drill,but I'm looking at you, Bren....).

And then,I was hung upside down outside The White Lyon venue for a week as a dreadful warning to all rhythm guitarists who cannot differentiate between an augmented 9th and a diminished 7th.Reciting The Pre-show Lecture To The Assembled OBM Band

And a sound thrashing was administered to all and sundry after Dave Watterston failed to meet the required standard during a random plectrum inspection.

So it is plain to see that one does not sod around with this man.Especially when one takes into account his musical history, which is vast and spectacular to say the very least. Folks, this man has played with everyone.Ok,with the exception of Cradle Of Filth and Westlife (and that's the only time you'll see those two acts in the same sentence). But absolutely everybody else....Yes, including P.J.Proby.

Actually, there was a time when Mr Levermore would only play for anyone who used initials in their name e.g B.A Robertson, B.J.Thomas,R.Dean Taylor etc.Generally, it was a successful move, but he came horribly unstuck when he tried to form a power trio with T.S.Eliot and H.G.Wells (no drummer, you see).

OK,so apart from iron discipline and the capacity to inspire abject fear,what does Mr Levermore bring to OBM? Quite simply, the most gobsmackingly rollicking keyboard constructions that you can get. Oh yes, and I can hear you asking " Why 'Quivering' ?"

The Many Stage Poses Of Mr Levermore -The Plectrum InspectionWell, I'll tell you. It's all down to his lifelong passion for archery.Sadly,a childhood incident left him traumatised and completely unable to say the word 'archery'. So when he left the house with his bow and arrows, he would be heard to say "just off for a spot of quivering"

And for those audience members who would think it mirthful to invoke this man's wrath, just consider what he actually carries in that spare keyboard case.

Terry Lightley - Bass guitar, Winning Smile,Only plays in A

Ok,what's the deal here then? Since when did OBM get anyone nice to play for them? Because that's the crux of the matter.Terry is nice. Nice,nice,NICE. Or was. Let me explain.

We have known Terry for some time now, having met him at one of our notorious White Lyon Jams. We were taken with his winning ways, cheeky grin, and his willingness to get his round in. Aye,aye we said;here's a chap who will fit in nicely.And so, whenever the opportunity arose,we would offer him the gig. And here's a few of the excuses he came up with:

Get the picture? Basically, he knew he was too nice for us, and that somehow if he threw in his lot with us,his ineffible niceness would dissipate overnight. So what happened to make him change his mind? Simple we offered him money, and suddenly niceness became an unnecessary encumbrance, and we saw the true nature of this grasping, avaricious beast. Which means that he fits in even better than expected.

Of course, he is occasionally overcome by unexpected bouts of residual niceness, but these are usually dealt with quite easily, by waving a fresh £10 note under his nose. Of course, we have to borrow this from the punters (we are all on Disability Benefits) and you can expect this avenue of audience particpation to become a very regular feature at our gigs. After all, prolonged niceness is extremely irksome.

So there you have it; a charming exterior which conceals a heart of pure darkness, the Beast contained by Beauty, the Hyde within Jekyll. Evil with four strings attached. Be warned (and get those tenners ready).

N.B. He doesn't really only play in A ,you know.

Old Blue would also like to thank Band Members past for their considerable contribution to the band, without whom OBM just wouldnt be OBM!

  • Graham Stoner (Blues Harp) 2001-2002
  • Terry McCarthy (Bass Guitar) 2001-2002
  • Freddy Semper (Bass Guitar) 2002-2003
  • Nick Thurston (Keyboards) 2001-2003
  • Dave Polglaze (Bass Guitar) 2003 - 2004

Band Photos

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