Metal, Prog, Martin Lightowler and other formative gaming memories.

 Following on from my previous post, I have also been musing over all the little things which made growing up in gaming so interesting for me, starting properly in 1981.

Music and gaming always seem to have gone hand in hand, albeit more with the fantasy side of things, although I have a personal connection between historical gaming and the music of Big Country... 

I would say that the majority of the fantasy gamers I met, be they tabletop or roleplaying devotees, were fans of rock in one of it's guises. Look, when you play games involving starships, elves and magic, you want music about is. Rock delievered that with interest payments. 

The covers on the albums, the lyrics and the imagery all fed us and we indulged ourselves in it.

I was already dipping a toe in the genre, and if you have read my memoir, you'll already know that with my best mate at the time, Alan, it was whilst on the track of an elusive Tygers Of Pan Tang picture disc, that we came across the Sheffield branch of Games Workshop, which was being fitted out ahead of it's opening, and where I was the first paying customer - albeit by accident and strength of will.

However, whilst we were all rock fans, we fragmented into two broad camps and Martin Lightowler, a one-teen rock scene in his own right.

About 30% of my circle were more metal fans, and carried the leather and studs thing to the max, or wore the obligatory denim jacket, festooned with studs, band patches and stunningly embroidered band logos. Those jackets were sacrosanct, and you fucked with them only if your 14 years on Earth had been so bad that you fancied a swift exit, via a ventilator and a bunch of lillies (that said, you'd have the girls who were into rock at school, at the service, perhaps the only time you'd 'pull' like David Coverdale). 

Maiden, Zep', Sabbath, AC/DC etc, formed the soundtrack to these troubled youth's lives, probably damaging them for life, when coupled with head banging - tried it, spent a week laying flat, with cushions under the neck, losing precious gaming time.

Hair would be long and straight, of long and naturally poodle-like, sweat bands on the wrists a favoutite, and some 'Alchemy' pewter jewelry.

Alchemy also made some lovely 28mm gaming miniatures, now produced by Alternative Armies, who ought to group them as 'Alchemy Archive' - Gavin, take note ;)

 Find Alternative Armies Here:

The prog' fans were by far in the majority. The look was to the unappreciative observer, the same, but there were subtle differences. Firstly, lets talk hair. The hair was long of course, but there was also the proto-mullet for which I have no defence - guilty as charged - which was not as short on top as the Redneck Crop, but rather longer, still above the ears, but with scope for a fringe, parted centrally of swept to the side, with the back left as long as possible. 

Shemaghs and similar pashmina style scarves would be worn in tandem with a Spanish or Italian combat jacket, beads and the gentler end of the Alchemy catalogue. My own choice was the classic Chaos Runesword pendant, with a brass oroburos and similar illuminati pyramid, found in my Nan's sewing box (no, I have no idea, unless she was a devotee of Madam Blavatsky in the '20s).

Musically, it was Rush, Marillion, Jethro Tull and the like, with a healthy dose of Hawkwind and Yes, when I got to know older gamers such as Kev Fisher, Nog Northing and Andy Ritson through the Sheffield Runelords club, although I could never get my head into Camel, and already listened to early Gabriel, but unlike many mates, shunned Genesis - go figure.

There were some similarities however, in the shape of skin tight jeans, striped trousers (ruined for us when those Christian rockers 'Stryper' wore their striped outfits but sang terrible songs in an attempt to turn us from the Devil and towards Jesus, succeeding in one case, but to be honest, the person in question was into the music for the kudos and Jesus for the girls - go figure).

Patchouli oil was a pervasive scent in the 80s, along with musk oil for the older more connoisseur members of the fraternity. I stuck with patchouli, and learned the hard way that a little goes far. Ten years later, my first shemagh still smelled of the forst application, despite being forcibly removed and washed by my mother, many times.

However, the, I say THE thing was to own a pair of Hi-Tec 'Tec' white leather basketball boots. British made, lovely boots that you looked after. They were great and I'd wear them today if I could find a pair. Forget Nike or any other boot, it was Tec or be damned to sartorial hell forever.  

And then there was Martin Lightowler, the one man musical sub-culture. Martin was and is a talented musician, who, wore what he wanted in any combination and pulled it off with an aplomb which could not be copied. Lord knows how he did it, but he did. He mixed metal with prog' and listened the Mahavishnu Orchestra (Who the fuck were they?) amongst others. Throw Martin into the mix and you had a cultural melting bot of rock styles that combined into some damed good times with several very funny if politically incorrect stories which would no doubt be viewed as apalling today - but fuck the present, this was the '80s.

I've also been musing over some of the interesting people who I met back then, many of whom were passing ships, but who left a mark on me for life as well as many others who I still see and indeed game with today, along with a right bastard of an exchange student from Australia. 

There are many stories, some of which are legendary in wargaming circles, and I'll tell you more, but not today, for the sun rises in the east and 6 Scotties demand their boiled eggs and chicken for breakfast.

TTFN

POS: Yes, I'll explain about historical gaming and Big Country too...