Van
Dexys Midnight Runners’ made a cover version of “Jackie Wilson Said” by Van Morrison. In 1982, They performed it on Top of the Pops, but in front of a picture of Scottish darts player Jocky Wilson. There remains some debate as to whether it was a misunderstanding or a deliberate act.
My Beauty is a solo album by Kevin Rowland, lead singer of Dexys Midnight Runners. It was released in 1999, eleven years after his solo debut The Wanderer. It is notable for the album cover on which Kevin Rowland is inexplicably wearing a Basque. It did not sell well.
In the early 90’s I attended the Fleadh festival in Finsbury Park in North London with my older friend Jim.
It was an unusually warm and sunny day and revellers moved between the stages with their plastic pints.
I’m enjoying an Australian band in one of the side tents but Jim is anxiously nudging me to go catch “Van The Man” on the main stage. I’m in no hurry, I’m several pints refreshed and I’m enjoying the band. In the corner of my eye there is a slightly short and very thin woman with dark curly hair, unusually long flat shoes, a floral frock and just a hint of a face I recognise. I tilt my pint and move out to the field of the main stage.
By now Van the Man is in full swing with his band. He’s playing “Caravan” and he’s giving it the full soul treatment. Nah-nah-nahs and a call and response with the sax player.
By now I’m horribly drunk and I’m not feeling it.
I then do something so stupid that I live in fear for my safety to this day.
There’s a pause in the music.
I shout out: “Play Brown Girl in the Ring!”
There is a stunned silence in the crowd.
Jim mutters: “Oh Jesus Christ. No.”
Van the Man is frozen in front of the microphone. From beneath his fedora there is a vein in his neck that is pulsing.
He stands there for what feels like a minute.
A white knuckled hand balls tightly into a fist. He snaps the headstock clean off of his acoustic guitar and the strings curl out in the exctasy of sudden release.
The sax player moves towards him: “Van.. please.. not now”.
Van is a short and portly man but he springs like a gazelle from the main stage.
It starts as a walk and the crowd part nervously. The vein in his neck beats a faster tempo.
He is now running towards me at surprising speed.
“Run!”, Jim shouts and I drop my plastic pint glass.
I’m through the main gates of Finsbury Park, revellers flee in chaos. I’m heading off as fast as I can along Finsbury Road and towards Blackstock Road. I’m breathless and terrified but I hear the heavy rasping breath and pounding feet of Van behind me. He’s not letting up.
A whispered voice from a side street; “Quick! This way!”
I follow a short, thin lady into a side alleyway and she knocks on the side door of an old pub. “Too-tye-aye”, she whispers to the door and behind the door, the latch opens and we are led down a dark corridor, up a long staircase into a large dark room.
As my eyes adjust, I see a group of women in Edwardian dress, but they are all tall and some have the trace of a five o’ clock shadow.
At the locked door we can hear Van Morrison, hammering and howling like a wounded bull.
A candle is lit in the room and to the rear of the wall there is a large poster of the darts player, Jocky Wilson.
I look closer at my rescuer. The short thin lady I had met earlier is in fact Kevin Rowland and the group of women are Dexy’s Midnight Runners.
“Big” Jim Paterson, in a long floral frock, clutching a trombone case speaks first:
“In 1982, we performed ‘Jacky Wilson Said’ on Top of the Pops, but in front of a picture of Scottish darts player Jocky Wilson.
It was all a terrible misunderstanding
Van Morrison has NEVER forgiven us.
To this day, we hide for our lives as women.’
Kevin Rowland looks at me with a sorrowful but kind expression:
“It’s ok, you are one of us now. Too-tye-aye sisters”
‘Too-rye-aye”, the band chorus together.
I am handed a dress.