The Spawn of the Swinging Sixties Chapter Eight Gilded Youth at the Silverhill School 1
By Carl Halling
Fri, 25 Apr 2014
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Chapter Eight Gilded Youth at the Silverhill School
Introduction
An initial draft of Gilded Youth was published at Blogster on the 1st of July 2006, since which time it's undergone considerable modification. The inclusion of the second versified section of Woodville
Hall first published separately and in longer form at Blogster on the 18th of February '06, is a fairly recent development. It had been based on the bare essentials of an autobiographical short story written in 1978 or '79.
Hall first published separately and in longer form at Blogster on the 18th of February '06, is a fairly recent development. It had been based on the bare essentials of an autobiographical short story written in 1978 or '79.
A “definitive” version of Gilded Youth was published at FaithWriters in December 2007.
The Woodville Hall escapists
In late 1977 I joined the former Merchant Navy School in Kent as a
trainee Radio Officer. I formed several close friendships there; but
closest of all was with Jayant, a lovable jack the lad of about 18
with a thick London accent who'd been born into nearby Gravesend's
large Asian community. Jay certainly knew how to handle himself, but
he was loyal and soft-hearted towards those he liked and trusted, and
for a time we were inseparable.
trainee Radio Officer. I formed several close friendships there; but
closest of all was with Jayant, a lovable jack the lad of about 18
with a thick London accent who'd been born into nearby Gravesend's
large Asian community. Jay certainly knew how to handle himself, but
he was loyal and soft-hearted towards those he liked and trusted, and
for a time we were inseparable.
It was through Jay I think that I started going to discos at Gravesend's
Woodville Hall, depicted in the piece below. There young (white and
Asian) kids would meet every week or so in late '77 dressed in
escapist fashions which stood out in such bizarre contrast with the
drabness of their surroundings. English suburban life in those days
didn't include such modern day distractions as mobile phones, DVD
players and the world wide web, and was dismally uninspiring as a
result. Little wonder therefore that it gave birth to Punk and other
outlandish youth cults, most of which are still in existence to some
degree to this day.
Woodville Hall, depicted in the piece below. There young (white and
Asian) kids would meet every week or so in late '77 dressed in
escapist fashions which stood out in such bizarre contrast with the
drabness of their surroundings. English suburban life in those days
didn't include such modern day distractions as mobile phones, DVD
players and the world wide web, and was dismally uninspiring as a
result. Little wonder therefore that it gave birth to Punk and other
outlandish youth cults, most of which are still in existence to some
degree to this day.
West Suburban Story
Soon after returning from the Merchant Navy school in December '77, I
auditioned for a place on the three year drama course at the
Silverhill School of Music and Drama in the City of London, which was
really what I'd wanted to do in the first place. Incredibly, as I'd
already failed two earlier auditions for RADA, Silverhill accepted me
for the course beginning in autumn 1978. I was exhilarated; but that
didn't stop me sinking further into the nihilistic Punk lifestyle.
Having been bewitched by the hairstyle of one of a small gang of
Punks I knew by sight from nights out in Dartford in late '77, I
decided to imitate it a few weeks later. It was predictably spiked,
with a kind of a halo of bright blond taking in the front of the
head, both sides, and a strip at the nape of the neck. I have part of
a photograph of myself wearing this style with a long Soul Boy fringe
at the front, before I eventually had it cut into spikes. By the
spring of 1978, I'd shorn it all off into a skinhead.
auditioned for a place on the three year drama course at the
Silverhill School of Music and Drama in the City of London, which was
really what I'd wanted to do in the first place. Incredibly, as I'd
already failed two earlier auditions for RADA, Silverhill accepted me
for the course beginning in autumn 1978. I was exhilarated; but that
didn't stop me sinking further into the nihilistic Punk lifestyle.
Having been bewitched by the hairstyle of one of a small gang of
Punks I knew by sight from nights out in Dartford in late '77, I
decided to imitate it a few weeks later. It was predictably spiked,
with a kind of a halo of bright blond taking in the front of the
head, both sides, and a strip at the nape of the neck. I have part of
a photograph of myself wearing this style with a long Soul Boy fringe
at the front, before I eventually had it cut into spikes. By the
spring of 1978, I'd shorn it all off into a skinhead.
It was genuinely dangerous being a Punk in '77-'78 and you lived in
constant fear of attack or abuse if you chose to dress like one.
After all, Punk's culture of insolence and outrage was extreme even
by the standards of previous British youth cults such as the Teds,
the Rockers, the Mods, the Greasers, the Skins, the Suedeheads and
the Smoothies. At the risk of exaggeration, it could be said that
Britain in those days was a country still dominated to some degree by
pre-war moral values, which were Victorian in essence...and that a
cultural war was still being fought for the soul of the nation. And
that therefore Punks constituted the avant garde of a new Britain in
a way that would almost certainly be impossible today, fact which
might go some way towards explaining the extraordinary hostility they
attracted from certain members of the British public.
constant fear of attack or abuse if you chose to dress like one.
After all, Punk's culture of insolence and outrage was extreme even
by the standards of previous British youth cults such as the Teds,
the Rockers, the Mods, the Greasers, the Skins, the Suedeheads and
the Smoothies. At the risk of exaggeration, it could be said that
Britain in those days was a country still dominated to some degree by
pre-war moral values, which were Victorian in essence...and that a
cultural war was still being fought for the soul of the nation. And
that therefore Punks constituted the avant garde of a new Britain in
a way that would almost certainly be impossible today, fact which
might go some way towards explaining the extraordinary hostility they
attracted from certain members of the British public.
Close by to where I shared a house with my parents in the furthermost
reaches of South West London where suburbia meets countryside I saw
Hersham Punk band Sham 69 shortly before they became nationally
famous. I already knew their lead singer Jimmy Pursey by sight; at
least I think it was him I saw miming to Chris Spedding's Motorbikin'
at the disco one night. This gig took place in a poky hall above a pub in the centre
of a large bleak industrial estate, itself surrounded by drab housing
estates and rows of council houses.
reaches of South West London where suburbia meets countryside I saw
Hersham Punk band Sham 69 shortly before they became nationally
famous. I already knew their lead singer Jimmy Pursey by sight; at
least I think it was him I saw miming to Chris Spedding's Motorbikin'
at the disco one night. This gig took place in a poky hall above a pub in the centre
of a large bleak industrial estate, itself surrounded by drab housing
estates and rows of council houses.
On one occasion that I remember, the Soul gave way to Punk which saw the
tiny dance space being invaded by deranged pogo-dancers. I just stood
back and watched. On another, a Ted revivalist, a follower of classic
Rock and Roll who favoured flashy fifties-style clothing, tried to
start some trouble with me in the toilet. At this point, another Ted
who I think had befriended me about a year before when I was still
dressing in '50s style, stepped in with the magical words: “He's a
mate!” His intervention may have saved me from a hiding that night
because Teds had a loathing of Punks informed by their essential
conservatism. To them, Punks probably seemed to have no respect for
anything. Later, or it may have been before I can't remember, he
asked me whether I was really into “this Punk lark” or whatever he called it, and I assured him I wasn't. I may even have added that I still loved the fifties, which was actually the truth to
an extent, not that that was the point. The fact is that I lied to
him to look good in his eyes, which was a pretty low thing to do to a
friend.
tiny dance space being invaded by deranged pogo-dancers. I just stood
back and watched. On another, a Ted revivalist, a follower of classic
Rock and Roll who favoured flashy fifties-style clothing, tried to
start some trouble with me in the toilet. At this point, another Ted
who I think had befriended me about a year before when I was still
dressing in '50s style, stepped in with the magical words: “He's a
mate!” His intervention may have saved me from a hiding that night
because Teds had a loathing of Punks informed by their essential
conservatism. To them, Punks probably seemed to have no respect for
anything. Later, or it may have been before I can't remember, he
asked me whether I was really into “this Punk lark” or whatever he called it, and I assured him I wasn't. I may even have added that I still loved the fifties, which was actually the truth to
an extent, not that that was the point. The fact is that I lied to
him to look good in his eyes, which was a pretty low thing to do to a
friend.
On New Years Eve, I took Jay to a party in swanky West or Central
London. It was one of the last, perhaps even the very last, in a long
series of parties I'd gone to throughout '77 thanks to my old
Welbourne buddies, so many of whom were now based in and around the
capital.
London. It was one of the last, perhaps even the very last, in a long
series of parties I'd gone to throughout '77 thanks to my old
Welbourne buddies, so many of whom were now based in and around the
capital.
Before arriving at the host's house or apartment, Jay and I met up as agreed
with budding oil magnate Chris, an especially close friend from my
days as Cadet C.R. Halling 173. Introductions over, Jay saw fit to
impress Chris with a terrifying solo display of his lethal street
fighting skills. “I'm suitably impressed,” said Chris, and he was; and he was no wimp himself (to say the least). We all got on well that insane night which saw me pouring a
full glass of beer over my head at one point in circumstances I'd
rather keep to myself. What the beautiful student of dance I'd spent
most of the evening with thought of a nice guy like me doing a thing
like that she didn't say. But in the late '70s, I met so many people
who might have done anything for me; and I've got plenty of time to
myself to reflect on it all now..and the sheer waste of youth, of
life...makes me weep.
with budding oil magnate Chris, an especially close friend from my
days as Cadet C.R. Halling 173. Introductions over, Jay saw fit to
impress Chris with a terrifying solo display of his lethal street
fighting skills. “I'm suitably impressed,” said Chris, and he was; and he was no wimp himself (to say the least). We all got on well that insane night which saw me pouring a
full glass of beer over my head at one point in circumstances I'd
rather keep to myself. What the beautiful student of dance I'd spent
most of the evening with thought of a nice guy like me doing a thing
like that she didn't say. But in the late '70s, I met so many people
who might have done anything for me; and I've got plenty of time to
myself to reflect on it all now..and the sheer waste of youth, of
life...makes me weep.
The Costa del Punk
In the spring of 1978, I arrived in the famous Costa del Sol town of
Fuengirola near Marbella, with the intention of helping to set up a
sailing school with a young English guy of about 30 I knew only very
slightly. He kindly put me up in an apartment, but as things turned
out the project came to nothing. However, I stayed on in Fuengirola,
living first in a hotel, and then rent-free thanks to a friend I made
in town in her own apartment.
Fuengirola near Marbella, with the intention of helping to set up a
sailing school with a young English guy of about 30 I knew only very
slightly. He kindly put me up in an apartment, but as things turned
out the project came to nothing. However, I stayed on in Fuengirola,
living first in a hotel, and then rent-free thanks to a friend I made
in town in her own apartment.
Shortly after that, I was offered the position of front man in a Hard Rock
band playing nightly at the Tam Tam night club. I became something of
a town character, Coco the Punk as I was known, one of only two Punks
in Fuengirola, most of the kids who became my close friends being
still in thrall to the Hippie sixties. '78 was my first year as a
full-time Punk in fact, and among the objects of my excess were a
black wet-look tee-shirt with cropped sleeves, drainpipe jeans of
black or green, worn with black studded belt festooned with silver
chain kept in place by safety pins, fluorescent teddy boy socks, and
white shoes with black laces etc. I even had a safety pin,
anaesthetized by being dipped into an alcoholic drink, forced through
my left ear lobe by a friend. I removed it once it had started to
cause my whole ear to throb.
band playing nightly at the Tam Tam night club. I became something of
a town character, Coco the Punk as I was known, one of only two Punks
in Fuengirola, most of the kids who became my close friends being
still in thrall to the Hippie sixties. '78 was my first year as a
full-time Punk in fact, and among the objects of my excess were a
black wet-look tee-shirt with cropped sleeves, drainpipe jeans of
black or green, worn with black studded belt festooned with silver
chain kept in place by safety pins, fluorescent teddy boy socks, and
white shoes with black laces etc. I even had a safety pin,
anaesthetized by being dipped into an alcoholic drink, forced through
my left ear lobe by a friend. I removed it once it had started to
cause my whole ear to throb.
For the most part, it was a summer of love and leisure, of endless lotus
eating mostly spent in the town itself, but also at the famous Campo
del Tenis, or nearby Mijas...and even on one occasion each as I
remember it, in Marbella, Torremolinos, Puerto Banus. I was often
short of money, but I could order as many drinks as I wanted at the
Tam Tam; and when I was flat broke I was bought toasted cheese
sandwiches and bottles of cold Spanish beer or whatever else I wished
for by a very dear friend. One night the charismatic British racing
driver James Hunt called to her from out of the darkness of a balmy
Andalusian night, before vanishing as suddenly as he'd arrived. Yes,
it was that incredible a summer.
eating mostly spent in the town itself, but also at the famous Campo
del Tenis, or nearby Mijas...and even on one occasion each as I
remember it, in Marbella, Torremolinos, Puerto Banus. I was often
short of money, but I could order as many drinks as I wanted at the
Tam Tam; and when I was flat broke I was bought toasted cheese
sandwiches and bottles of cold Spanish beer or whatever else I wished
for by a very dear friend. One night the charismatic British racing
driver James Hunt called to her from out of the darkness of a balmy
Andalusian night, before vanishing as suddenly as he'd arrived. Yes,
it was that incredible a summer.
I returned to London in September 1978 to take my place at the
Silverhill, but by the following summer, I was back in Spain...not
Fuengirola though, despite the fact that my friends from the band had
wanted me to carry on with them as lead singer throughout '79. I feel
bad to this day at having let them down so badly; we were so close as
a band. There was something about the Spanish character that
resonated with me; I can't say exactly what, but I always got on so
well with the Spanish.
Silverhill, but by the following summer, I was back in Spain...not
Fuengirola though, despite the fact that my friends from the band had
wanted me to carry on with them as lead singer throughout '79. I feel
bad to this day at having let them down so badly; we were so close as
a band. There was something about the Spanish character that
resonated with me; I can't say exactly what, but I always got on so
well with the Spanish.
In my wisdom I'd chosen instead to go to La Ribera, the little former
fishing village in the south eastern province of Murcia.
fishing village in the south eastern province of Murcia.
I felt a deep and overwhelming sense of exhaustion as I stretched out
on the wooden balneario overlooking the Mar Menor, but I don't recall
being especially disappointed by the knowledge that I wouldn't be
returning to the Silverhill for the autumn term of 1979. It may have
been just the Costa Calida sun that made me feel so burned out.
on the wooden balneario overlooking the Mar Menor, but I don't recall
being especially disappointed by the knowledge that I wouldn't be
returning to the Silverhill for the autumn term of 1979. It may have
been just the Costa Calida sun that made me feel so burned out.
Farewell Lauderdale Tower
Just before quitting Fuengirola the previous summer of '78 I'd been
approached with an offer of singing in the Canary Islands, but I'd
turned it down. Who knows where it might have led; but then had I
travelled to the Canaries with the band, I wouldn't have gone to the
Silverhill through which so many incredible experiences came. It
would take an entire separate volume to list them all.
approached with an offer of singing in the Canary Islands, but I'd
turned it down. Who knows where it might have led; but then had I
travelled to the Canaries with the band, I wouldn't have gone to the
Silverhill through which so many incredible experiences came. It
would take an entire separate volume to list them all.
What I will say is I was involved with an almost unbroken succession of
Rock and Pop bands. Through one of them, the Rockets, I was offered
the position of lead singer for a guitar player of genius who's
played with one of the world's leading Rock superstars since 1990.
Through another, Narcissus, which I formed with my mates Simon and
John, I found only disgrace when our bizarre image resulted in a
cacophony of heckling. For the most part, I was the sweetest and most
mannerly of guys of guys, but I had a nasty habit of shooting myself
in the foot at the worst possible moments, or shooting my mouth off,
one of the two. It's as if I was determined to go back to being the
dud I'd once been.
Rock and Pop bands. Through one of them, the Rockets, I was offered
the position of lead singer for a guitar player of genius who's
played with one of the world's leading Rock superstars since 1990.
Through another, Narcissus, which I formed with my mates Simon and
John, I found only disgrace when our bizarre image resulted in a
cacophony of heckling. For the most part, I was the sweetest and most
mannerly of guys of guys, but I had a nasty habit of shooting myself
in the foot at the worst possible moments, or shooting my mouth off,
one of the two. It's as if I was determined to go back to being the
dud I'd once been.
My final band was the '50s revivalist act Z Cars, which even won a tiny
fan base for itself. I was Carl Cool, lead singer and songwriter with
a tattoo painted onto my shoulder; while Robert Fitzroy-Square was
the boy next door with the Buddy Holly glasses, who provided most of
the comedy, Dave Dean, the Punk kid, and Little Ricky Ticky, the baby
of the band at only 18.
fan base for itself. I was Carl Cool, lead singer and songwriter with
a tattoo painted onto my shoulder; while Robert Fitzroy-Square was
the boy next door with the Buddy Holly glasses, who provided most of
the comedy, Dave Dean, the Punk kid, and Little Ricky Ticky, the baby
of the band at only 18.
There were emotional scenes at my farewell party held in the depths of the
Barbican Estate's Lauderdale Tower and many cried openly because I
was leaving. During the evening, a close friend Tasmin told me to
contact the impresario Harry Creasey, well-known for offering young
actors their very first positions within the entertainment industry.
Barbican Estate's Lauderdale Tower and many cried openly because I
was leaving. During the evening, a close friend Tasmin told me to
contact the impresario Harry Creasey, well-known for offering young
actors their very first positions within the entertainment industry.
True to form, he gave me my very first paid job in the business a matter
of months afterwards. So just before Christmas, I was doubling as
Christian the Chorus Boy and Joey the Teddy Bear complete with furry
costume in the pantomime Sleeping Beauty that began
its run in Ealing in west London, culminating at the Buxton Opera
House in Derbyshire. Then early on in the new year, I played
Mustardseed in A Midsummer Night's Dream at the Bristol Old Vic.
of months afterwards. So just before Christmas, I was doubling as
Christian the Chorus Boy and Joey the Teddy Bear complete with furry
costume in the pantomime Sleeping Beauty that began
its run in Ealing in west London, culminating at the Buxton Opera
House in Derbyshire. Then early on in the new year, I played
Mustardseed in A Midsummer Night's Dream at the Bristol Old Vic.
From the Vic era, I offer the following relic from an unfinished tale
which I went on to edit and versify. I rescued it last year from a
battered notebook I was in the habit of scribbling in during spare
moments offstage while dressed in my costume and covered in blue body
make-up and silver glitter. While doing so, some of this glitter was
transferred from the pages with which they were stained more than
twenty six years ago onto my hands. It was an eerie experience.
which I went on to edit and versify. I rescued it last year from a
battered notebook I was in the habit of scribbling in during spare
moments offstage while dressed in my costume and covered in blue body
make-up and silver glitter. While doing so, some of this glitter was
transferred from the pages with which they were stained more than
twenty six years ago onto my hands. It was an eerie experience.
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