How grim was mid 1970's London?
Discussion
All this talk of Tottenham Court Road takes me back to mid to late '80s working in Great Russell Street.
Must have been '86/'87 when I was 20 and the boss asked me to park his new 911 (Guards Red 3.2) for him.
I was terrified (of him and what he'd asked me to do
) but got in, turned the key, Tina Turner came on the stereo and I was off down past the British Museum, and past Holborn, putting my foot down a bit and round back up to Tottenham Court Road. The nuts! 
Parked it in the NCP which scared the s
t out of me, and when I gave him the keys back he just said "D'ya scratch it?" and laughed.
He had a V8 Aston after that, but he never let me drive that one.
Must have been '86/'87 when I was 20 and the boss asked me to park his new 911 (Guards Red 3.2) for him.
I was terrified (of him and what he'd asked me to do
) but got in, turned the key, Tina Turner came on the stereo and I was off down past the British Museum, and past Holborn, putting my foot down a bit and round back up to Tottenham Court Road. The nuts! Parked it in the NCP which scared the s
t out of me, and when I gave him the keys back he just said "D'ya scratch it?" and laughed. He had a V8 Aston after that, but he never let me drive that one.
PurpleTurtle said:
I love Bradleys, great jukebox. Many a night stood outside there for a few pre-gig San Miguels before they knocked The Astoria down for Crossrail.
They've struggled like all other pubs in the lockdown, it's such an intimate place that you can hardly socially distance in there. Jan the manager is occasionally updating their Facebook page, really hoping to get back in there at some point, but it's unlikely to be soon.
My office was on Rathbone Pl for a while, if ever I wanted a pint with a mate on the sly I'd go in there knowing all of the advertising crowd would be far too pretentious to go in such a place.They've struggled like all other pubs in the lockdown, it's such an intimate place that you can hardly socially distance in there. Jan the manager is occasionally updating their Facebook page, really hoping to get back in there at some point, but it's unlikely to be soon.
Yes I donated on the justgiving page to try and help them keep it open. Love the Jukebox. Clapton - Cocaine, followed by Heaven 17 - Temptation and then whatever else for the 3rd pick, old pound coins only. Ideal.
Great memories in the last few pages!
I remember being mid-teens and living near a small market town that had a very limited range of everything, but was fortunately only about 35 minutes from Charing Cross on the train.
My usual 'circuit' would start in the guitar shops on Denmark Street/Charing Cross Road, up one side of Tottenhsm Court Road and down the other, down Hanway Street for the records shops, a few shops on Oxford Street and then more record shops on Berwick Street and D'Arblay Street.
The depth of the ranges on offer would be fairly amazing even today, but in those days it was on a completely different level to anywhere else. My nearest large town centre couldn't compete in any way, and it took me as long to get there as it would have done to get to London until I started driving.
Having whole areas with specialist shops dedicated to one type of item made shopping a much more interesting experience than it is today. Some of it still exists of course - the music shops in Denmark Street, the bookshops a little bit further down Charing Cross Road, and some of the record shops in Soho.
Most of the rest of the west end just seems to have the same chains as everywhere else, just bigger branches without any more depth of stock. The flagship Apple Store in Covent Garden doesn't seem to carry any different items than the one in my local town centre. Back in those days, even the chains like HMV had so much more in their central London branches than in the smaller ones further out.
I remember being mid-teens and living near a small market town that had a very limited range of everything, but was fortunately only about 35 minutes from Charing Cross on the train.
My usual 'circuit' would start in the guitar shops on Denmark Street/Charing Cross Road, up one side of Tottenhsm Court Road and down the other, down Hanway Street for the records shops, a few shops on Oxford Street and then more record shops on Berwick Street and D'Arblay Street.
The depth of the ranges on offer would be fairly amazing even today, but in those days it was on a completely different level to anywhere else. My nearest large town centre couldn't compete in any way, and it took me as long to get there as it would have done to get to London until I started driving.
Having whole areas with specialist shops dedicated to one type of item made shopping a much more interesting experience than it is today. Some of it still exists of course - the music shops in Denmark Street, the bookshops a little bit further down Charing Cross Road, and some of the record shops in Soho.
Most of the rest of the west end just seems to have the same chains as everywhere else, just bigger branches without any more depth of stock. The flagship Apple Store in Covent Garden doesn't seem to carry any different items than the one in my local town centre. Back in those days, even the chains like HMV had so much more in their central London branches than in the smaller ones further out.
Andy 308GTB said:
Mikebentley said:
I remember late 80s early 90s working with a gang of maybe 12 others steel erecting in central London and stopping in stty cheap digs (think Trainspotting). Every evening and often afternoons were spent on the lash in seedy boozers putting money in a passed around glass.
Remember a pub I think it was The Nelson in Hackney where on a Sunday lunch a Chinese gentleman played records on a single turntable whilst the ladies danced. Also remember another establishment opposite Rude Mercs.
The Lord Nelson, Mora Street?tty cheap digs (think Trainspotting). Every evening and often afternoons were spent on the lash in seedy boozers putting money in a passed around glass. Remember a pub I think it was The Nelson in Hackney where on a Sunday lunch a Chinese gentleman played records on a single turntable whilst the ladies danced. Also remember another establishment opposite Rude Mercs.
Round the back of Moorfields Eye Hospital and the Leysian Mission. I was in the tower block opposite (Gambier House) for a short time.
The pub opposite Rude Mercs was 'Martins' but evolved into the Metropolis.
Edited by Andy 308GTB on Saturday 23 January 09:32
vixen1700 said:
Yeah, do miss the hi-fi shops on Tottenham Court Road, you could always haggle a bit, not something I've ever been easy about doing anywhere else,
Still remember getting an Arcam/Technics/Mission set up for my flat and jumping in a cab to get it home, all excited.
Heh. Whilst walking back to Charing Cross with my HP items: two Technics SL1200MKIIs. Still remember getting an Arcam/Technics/Mission set up for my flat and jumping in a cab to get it home, all excited.
Got as far as Denmark St / Foyles, thinking 'christ, they're getting a bit heavy'.
Taxi!
Getting HP required a visit to the shop, wait two weeks or so for a letter to approve. Return to the shop with the letter, leave with items.
Speaking of HiFi shopping in London, getting neck age trying to spot a bargain in the used section inside the teeny weeny Richer Sounds at London Bridge.
The only non independent record / cd store I liked was the huge Tower Records at Picadially Circus, open until stupid o'clock and sold just about everything.
Anyway, grim. Woolwich Ferry over to Silvertown and walking along Wapping High Street, with all the corrugated tin / iron boards. At least there was no-one around so you had the 'beach' to yourselves when the tide was out.
The only non independent record / cd store I liked was the huge Tower Records at Picadially Circus, open until stupid o'clock and sold just about everything.
Anyway, grim. Woolwich Ferry over to Silvertown and walking along Wapping High Street, with all the corrugated tin / iron boards. At least there was no-one around so you had the 'beach' to yourselves when the tide was out.
PurpleTurtle said:
okgo said:
That's the idea, yes. It has character, and characters within. It's one of the last places I can think of that has anything about it vs being an identikit bore fest like most of London seems to be.
I love Bradleys, great jukebox. Many a night stood outside there for a few pre-gig San Miguels before they knocked The Astoria down for Crossrail. They've struggled like all other pubs in the lockdown, it's such an intimate place that you can hardly socially distance in there. Jan the manager is occasionally updating their Facebook page, really hoping to get back in there at some point, but it's unlikely to be soon.
They've got a crowdfunding page which appears to be wildly successful, having raised nearly £32,000 of a £20,000 target!
London in the seventies was brilliant. Free concerts in Hyde Park and on Parliament Hill Fields and Beckenham Place Park too. Great places to shop like Kensington Market and all the little shops in Soho - The Village Gate, Take 6 and so on.
I loved that area - Wardour Street Berwick Street, Frith Street etc as it was still pretty seedy and the girls were always calling to you on slow evenings. I really miss walking past where Raymonds Revue Bar was with the tout on the door and the brassy girl on the ticket counter.
Ok, the skinheads were a pain in the arse but not the end of the world. I had hair you could nearly sit on but still went to most of Millwall's home games and only had trouble once and that was the away fans.
So many clubs and pubs with live music although getting home late was dificult but there was always the night buses. The old Marquee, the 100 Club, the Speakeasy - all just brilliant.
Daftest memory of the lot, I'd met friends at the Temple for one of the all nighters where Edgar Broughton was supposed to be topping the bill but was replaced ny Mungo Jerry which wasn't great. Added to which, we all overindulged in some LSD and went to this little club under the pavement - down the beer cellar steps - somewhere around the north side of Leicester Square. It was full of very dodgy geezers indeed including a large number of skinheads and once the drug really kicked in - and it did - I thought it best to leave as the whole place was turning into a sea of writhing monsters all out to get me.
I said something to one of my friends and he gave me the look that said I can't understand a word you're saying. I thought for a second in my somewhat addled way and said out loud "Oh God, I can't communicate" which was then accompanied by a string of words flying around the place in a Magical Mystery Tour kind of colour and typeface.
It was a long night but not a disaster. The seventies in London were fabulous, despite some of the stty bits, and I'd do it all again tomorrow given the chance.
Just for clarity, I was born in St Alfeges in Greenwich, then lived in Tanners Hill in Deptford, then Pepys Estate when it was new and got out to Catford in about 1972. The west end and Soho were magic and north London was best avoided except for the Rainbow and the Roundhouse.
Before moving to Catford I used to go the Savoy where you could see some great Jamaican bands - Desmond Dekker and the Skatellites for instance - as well as some of the lesser soul acts from the USA. Into town for the bigger names and the rock acts. God knows how many times we saw Blodwyn Pig and Free and Genesis.
I loved that area - Wardour Street Berwick Street, Frith Street etc as it was still pretty seedy and the girls were always calling to you on slow evenings. I really miss walking past where Raymonds Revue Bar was with the tout on the door and the brassy girl on the ticket counter.
Ok, the skinheads were a pain in the arse but not the end of the world. I had hair you could nearly sit on but still went to most of Millwall's home games and only had trouble once and that was the away fans.
So many clubs and pubs with live music although getting home late was dificult but there was always the night buses. The old Marquee, the 100 Club, the Speakeasy - all just brilliant.
Daftest memory of the lot, I'd met friends at the Temple for one of the all nighters where Edgar Broughton was supposed to be topping the bill but was replaced ny Mungo Jerry which wasn't great. Added to which, we all overindulged in some LSD and went to this little club under the pavement - down the beer cellar steps - somewhere around the north side of Leicester Square. It was full of very dodgy geezers indeed including a large number of skinheads and once the drug really kicked in - and it did - I thought it best to leave as the whole place was turning into a sea of writhing monsters all out to get me.
I said something to one of my friends and he gave me the look that said I can't understand a word you're saying. I thought for a second in my somewhat addled way and said out loud "Oh God, I can't communicate" which was then accompanied by a string of words flying around the place in a Magical Mystery Tour kind of colour and typeface.
It was a long night but not a disaster. The seventies in London were fabulous, despite some of the s
tty bits, and I'd do it all again tomorrow given the chance.Just for clarity, I was born in St Alfeges in Greenwich, then lived in Tanners Hill in Deptford, then Pepys Estate when it was new and got out to Catford in about 1972. The west end and Soho were magic and north London was best avoided except for the Rainbow and the Roundhouse.
Before moving to Catford I used to go the Savoy where you could see some great Jamaican bands - Desmond Dekker and the Skatellites for instance - as well as some of the lesser soul acts from the USA. Into town for the bigger names and the rock acts. God knows how many times we saw Blodwyn Pig and Free and Genesis.
Edited by rlw on Friday 12th February 19:09
rlw said:
London in the seventies was brilliant. Free concerts in Hyde Park and on Parliament Hill Fields and Beckenham Place Park too. Great places to shop like Kensington Market and all the little shops in Soho - The Village Gate, Take 6 and so on.
I loved that area - Wardour Street Berwick Street, Frith Street etc as it was still pretty seedy and the girls were always calling to you on slow evenings. I really miss walking past where Raymonds Revue Bar was with the tout on the door and the brassy girl on the ticket counter.
Ok, the skinheads were a pain in the arse but not the end of the world. I had hair you could nearly sit on but still went to most of Millwall's home games and only had trouble once and that was the away fans.
So many clubs and pubs with live music although getting home late was dificult but there was always the night buses. The old Marquee, the 100 Club, the Speakeasy - all just brilliant.
Daftest memory of the lot, I'd met friends at the Temple for one of the all nighters where Edgar Broughton was supposed to be topping the bill but was replaced ny Mungo Jerry which wasn't great. Added to which, we all overindulged in some LSD and went to this little club under the pavement - down the beer cellar steps - somewhere around the north side of Leicester Square. It was full of very dodgy geezers indeed including a large number of skinheads and once the drug really kicked in - and it did - I thought it best to leave as the whole place was turning into a sea of writhing monsters all out to get me.
I said something to one of my friends and he gave me the look that said I can't understand a word you're saying. I thought for a second in my somewhat addled way and said out loud "Oh God, I can't communicate" which was then accompanied by a string of words flying around the place in a Magical Mystery Tour kind of colour and typeface.
It was a long night but not a disaster. The seventies in London were fabulous, despite some of the stty bits, and I'd do it all again tomorrow given the chance.
Just for clarity, I was born in St Alfeges in Greenwich, then lived in Tanners Hill in Deptford, then Pepys Estate when it was new and got out to Catford in about 1972. The west end and Soho were magic and north London was best avoided except for the Rainbow and the Roundhouse.
Before moving to Catford I used to go the Savoy where you could see some great Jamaican bands - Desmond Dekker and the Skatellites for instance - as well as some of the lesser soul acts from the USA. Into town for the bigger names and the rock acts. God knows how many times we saw Blodwyn Pig and Free and Genesis.
lolI loved that area - Wardour Street Berwick Street, Frith Street etc as it was still pretty seedy and the girls were always calling to you on slow evenings. I really miss walking past where Raymonds Revue Bar was with the tout on the door and the brassy girl on the ticket counter.
Ok, the skinheads were a pain in the arse but not the end of the world. I had hair you could nearly sit on but still went to most of Millwall's home games and only had trouble once and that was the away fans.
So many clubs and pubs with live music although getting home late was dificult but there was always the night buses. The old Marquee, the 100 Club, the Speakeasy - all just brilliant.
Daftest memory of the lot, I'd met friends at the Temple for one of the all nighters where Edgar Broughton was supposed to be topping the bill but was replaced ny Mungo Jerry which wasn't great. Added to which, we all overindulged in some LSD and went to this little club under the pavement - down the beer cellar steps - somewhere around the north side of Leicester Square. It was full of very dodgy geezers indeed including a large number of skinheads and once the drug really kicked in - and it did - I thought it best to leave as the whole place was turning into a sea of writhing monsters all out to get me.
I said something to one of my friends and he gave me the look that said I can't understand a word you're saying. I thought for a second in my somewhat addled way and said out loud "Oh God, I can't communicate" which was then accompanied by a string of words flying around the place in a Magical Mystery Tour kind of colour and typeface.
It was a long night but not a disaster. The seventies in London were fabulous, despite some of the s
tty bits, and I'd do it all again tomorrow given the chance.Just for clarity, I was born in St Alfeges in Greenwich, then lived in Tanners Hill in Deptford, then Pepys Estate when it was new and got out to Catford in about 1972. The west end and Soho were magic and north London was best avoided except for the Rainbow and the Roundhouse.
Before moving to Catford I used to go the Savoy where you could see some great Jamaican bands - Desmond Dekker and the Skatellites for instance - as well as some of the lesser soul acts from the USA. Into town for the bigger names and the rock acts. God knows how many times we saw Blodwyn Pig and Free and Genesis.
Edited by rlw on Friday 12th February 19:09
That sounds like some memorable times
What the youth of today will have 'post-covid', if anything at all, is beyond me!
I finally got around to watching 'Villain' at the weekend having seen it mentioned a few times on this thread.
For me it was a great film, maybe not as good as its contemporary 'Get Carter', and yes Burton's accent does wonder around a bit. I was surprised at the themes included in the film and the nudity - I had naively presumed that the censors back then would have been stricter.
Some of the locations look as if time has stood still (including the pub where the robbery conspiracy is discussed) but others have long been demolished and it is sad to see what has happened to the West Pier in a few short decades. Have to say that even the plastics factory in Bracknell had its own charm when set against the Waitrose DC that replaced it.
For me it was a great film, maybe not as good as its contemporary 'Get Carter', and yes Burton's accent does wonder around a bit. I was surprised at the themes included in the film and the nudity - I had naively presumed that the censors back then would have been stricter.
Some of the locations look as if time has stood still (including the pub where the robbery conspiracy is discussed) but others have long been demolished and it is sad to see what has happened to the West Pier in a few short decades. Have to say that even the plastics factory in Bracknell had its own charm when set against the Waitrose DC that replaced it.
TwigtheWonderkid said:
motco said:
B791 record deck
Ooo, is that the one with the fixed position parallel tracking arm (complete thread derail) As a teenager I had a Sunday job in Petticote Lane market selling reproduction pub mirrors for my mate's uncle.
We were right outside the covered market. Inside was a stall selling punk gear - this must've been '74/75. So, really early in punk terms.
Every week their stall was raided by Teds who tried to smash it up. Oh the fun we had trying to keep the overspill treading on all our neatly arrayed mirrors.
Otherwise, I spent all day calling out "Pound yer mirrors!" The amount of times I was interrupted mid-call by someone who wanted to know the prices........
Great times!
We were right outside the covered market. Inside was a stall selling punk gear - this must've been '74/75. So, really early in punk terms.
Every week their stall was raided by Teds who tried to smash it up. Oh the fun we had trying to keep the overspill treading on all our neatly arrayed mirrors.
Otherwise, I spent all day calling out "Pound yer mirrors!" The amount of times I was interrupted mid-call by someone who wanted to know the prices........
Great times!
TwigtheWonderkid said:
I had a job as a teenager...
Worked for the bloke in the van at 2.49 selling stuff door to door when I was 15 in the school holidays: https://youtu.be/Y47Wcw9pXRU What a laugh and made loads of money for records and clothes. 
Blib said:
As a teenager I had a Sunday job in Petticote Lane market selling reproduction pub mirrors for my mate's uncle.
We were right outside the covered market. Inside was a stall selling punk gear - this must've been '74/75. So, really early in punk terms.
Every week their stall was raided by Teds who tried to smash it up. Oh the fun we had trying to keep the overspill treading on all our neatly arrayed mirrors.
Otherwise, I spent all day calling out "Pound yer mirrors!" The amount of times I was interrupted mid-call by someone who wanted to know the prices........
Great times!
Brick Lane market was another good one. We were right outside the covered market. Inside was a stall selling punk gear - this must've been '74/75. So, really early in punk terms.
Every week their stall was raided by Teds who tried to smash it up. Oh the fun we had trying to keep the overspill treading on all our neatly arrayed mirrors.
Otherwise, I spent all day calling out "Pound yer mirrors!" The amount of times I was interrupted mid-call by someone who wanted to know the prices........
Great times!
Your push bike would eventually get nicked at some point so you’d wait until the following Sunday and go and buy it back. You wouldn’t even argue with the rather large guy as it would mean coming home with less teeth than you left with. Quick barter and hand over the money promising yourself you’ll buy a better lock but you never do!
Soho brings back memories. As a youngster you’d jump on the bus and just walk around, half way between terrified and hyper-excited as it was proper seedy in the early eighties before it was all gentrified and the hipsters moved in.
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