Band of Bothers

I was the longest serving third cornet player in Brigg Town Silver Band.

There was a steady succession of new cornet players, some very young who through ability, determination, pushy parents and many hours of dedicated practice soon progressed to second and eventually first cornet ranks.

I was left behind in the equivalent of the cheap seats in the best theatre. I wasn't too bothered because I was doing the brass band thing for my grandfather who had been a longstanding member of a band and that had been a major part of his life. Pursuing a serious musical interest is hard work and does impact on things I, as a 13 and 14 year old would certainly prefer doing like playing footie, watching TV, gadding about on bikes and discovering girls.

Band practice was on a monday night in an upstairs room above a town centre public house. I cycled from home just on the new estate on the eastern outskirts of the town with my cornet case strapped, with those brightly coloured elasticated straps, onto a rack secured to the seatpost and over the rear wheel. My formative sense of humour had led me to purchase a red and yellow elongated sticker saying 'SHORT VEHICLE' which finished off the whole ensemble. Geeky or what?

The staircase to the band room was dark and rickety and the room itself was similar. Fusty and dusty from the one only regular use. We sat on Pub chairs arranged in a crescent shape around the conductors plinth. The age range of the band members was from around 12 up to 60, the latter forming the heart of the band being the double bass players, invariably with a pint of best ale at their feet, euphonium section specialising in horse racing tips and the trombones who were the main practical jokers. Three ranks of cornets, flugel and tenor horns and the equivalent of Wayne Rooney in the soprano cornet .

The band were all locals but on occasion we had a visiting celebrity from one of the Premier League of brass bands who showed us the vast void between our lowly third divison outfit and the big boys. The practice always started with a hymn and even to this day I feel tears welling up at the sound of 'Abide with Me', partly because of the achingly melancholy sound in brass and partly because I was quite crap at third cornet. More air seemed to escape out of the sides of my mouthpiece than find its way down the tortuous tubes to produce a nice sound. To the listener, my contribution will have certainly sounded like an authentic hiss on an old 78 rpm record.

We were encouraged to practice in our own time and, through our school tutors, to acheive improved Grades under the Royal School of Music. I got as far as none.

Those were heady days of practice for competition and concerts. The pride on the face of my grandfather at the Corn Exchange concerts made my adventure in brass banding worthwhile many times over.

In local area terms we were the best, Humberside Band of the Year in successive years albeit against limited competition mostly bands from smaller towns and villages from both sides of the river (Estuary, sorry).

I travelled widely in my mid teens to compete on De Montfort Hall stage in Leicester (following in the footsteps of Led Zeppelin and Deep Purple), in Nottingham and in many miners welfare clubs although the heavy smoke screen in the pre-ban days now makes my memory of actual venues a bit hazy and my fear of carcinogenic passive smoking all the more prevalent.

The competition days were long and a bit tedious waiting around for the call to assemble in the wings of the stage, resplendent in black trousers, shiny shoes, white shirt and dickie bow tie. We usually got a top ten placing but no cigar or mention in dispatches. I had to be picked up by my parents on return to the band room  in the very early hours, tired and very much of smoky odour to clothes and hair.

I cannot now remember how my band days ended. I like to think we just outgrew each other and parted company but I really think that I was ousted unceremoniously by a group of child prodigy third cornet players with those ever present pushy parents.

In fact we just moved house to another area, a bit like a protection programme for the musically incompetent.

(Another repeat but I have had a busy day plus a visit to the in-laws)