Article published in Sounds, 10th November, 1979
The Crooks | Robbery With Intent | ARRIVING IN A Manchester staggered en masse by the shock news that it had been secretly owned by Sir Matt Busby for years, I strode out of Manchester Piccadilly station (or Manchester Busby as it’s now known) only to be set upon by a ragged street urchin who, with a mind-buggering impudence, demanded a “penny for the guy”, his snotty finger indicating a tatty heap of refuse at my feet.
When I, with some wit I fancy, replied “No but I’ll give you a ha’penny for the whistle” the youth assumed the sort of distant blank expression that you’d normally associate with McCullough when he’s reminded whose round it is.
Yet here I was gigging it about at Salford University (or Sir Matt’s as it’s now officially described) with that self-same out-to-lunch look blessing my boat.
And the reason was the band on stage. The Crooks. Now to you that handle probably summons up thoughts of faithful old felons like Fletch and Godber floundering in some mythical flowery dell mumbling on about screws and snout, but to me the name Crooks automatically evokes vivid visions of bearded bandwagon-jumping geriatrics feebly donning Ben Shermans et al in an attempt to pass off their weak-kneed pop slop as mod, and jacking in teaching jobs to do it.
Romford Market
But this vision, nurtured over the last months by several chappies who are normally well iry tipsters, was about as congruous with the band on stage as the idea of the Pope selling Durex on a stall down Romford Market.
Fact is not only did they look pretty young but they sounded pretty nifty too, and when a quick rabbit established that the ‘bandwagon’ bit was about as historically accurate as Pravda to boot, the fact hungry newshound in me — as buried ‘neath the breast of every Sounds scribe —thundered into a Lou Grantish fact finding orgy of oh, at least five minutes, in order to establish:
THE TRUTH ABOUT THE CROOKS (fanfares, man cheers, weeping women etc.). Chief tunesmith and guitarist Jim Fingers (real name Tim Parry) and vocalist (and now second guitarist of ten weeks standing) Dino Dean formed the Crooks Mark One at the end of ’77, meeting at Middlesex Poly from where they eventually qualified as teachers (although they never got round to teaching).
The Crooks | Robbery With Intent
By the end of ’78 they reckoned they’d got as far as they could with that line-up and enlisted the present rhythm section in November: bassist Chris Brod, an old mate of Jim’s who he used to play Who covers in a school band with, and drummer Mick Sparra who joined via the small ads in Malady Mawker.
REJIGGED, THEY soon established themselves as nabobs of the North Circular via interminable gigs at the Pegasus pub in darkest Stoke Newington.
At this stage they were a rugby-shirted semi-comic combo playing the likes of ‘Beans On Toast’ and ‘Oral Sex’, but they also became an invaluable focus for the then embryonic North London mod scene, as well as playing an important role in inspiring and aiding the development of bands like the Scooters and Back To Zero.
The Crooks’ first single ‘The Modern Boys’ released last month was written in these ’78 days as a tribute to the young mods they were attracting and perhaps inevitably, these lads’ fashions and passions rubbed off on them in return.
Fred Perry’s
Off went the rugby shirts, on went the Fred Perry’s, and out of order went the opinions of finicky mod trendsetters. Because let’s get one thing straight all this was happening long before there was any bandwagon to jump on.
How many mods and mod bands now can honestly say they weren’t wearing safety-pinned schmutta or whatever this time last year? And if being influenced is a cardinal sin then even the hippest modster stands accused.
So what else? The age jibes are bullshit too — 19, 23, 23, and 23 don’t exactly spell Methusala in my books. And as for the music, well mod is so musically diverse that I find the ‘not mod music’ tag hard to take too, especially as their particular brand of dance music has all the requisite Kinsky/Who/Small Faces roots . . .
The Crooks | Robbery With Intent
No I reckon the Crooks have unfairly borne the brunt of misplaced elitism. Tonight they were supporting the poor old Merton Parkas and frankly they blew them off stage with a bouncy brace of energetic punchy pop songs (‘Thousand Faces’, ‘Sound Of Today’, ‘Modern Boys’) wherein contagious choons wrestle with stirring, snappy anthems stamped with body and identity.
CRITICISMS SPRING to mind like the obvious sameness of their sound (like most first albums in fact), and their vision is strictly Funnsville, Arizona.
No dealing with the nastier side of life. The Crooks are firmly into unleashing the hairnet and dancing the night away. And tonight’s audience — a strange blend of raucously enthusiastic Liverpool mods with their needle stuck on Quadrophenia chants, ‘typical student types’, token snappy dressers and horsey university ladies after a little bit of rough — seem happy enough with that.
Let’s face it, any band that digs out obscure numbers like the Small Faces‘ Understanding’ and the Kinks‘ ‘I Need You’ and bung in one of their own called ‘Trying To Make Love To You Is Like Banging My Head Against A Brick Wall’ can’t be all bad.
Modern Boys
Chatting to the chaps apres gig, and inevitably back in London Town chez the W**** L***, a man couldn’t help noting that for Arsenal fans they were, and I quote Ian Penman here, a bleeding great bunch of geezers (and let’s face it, Arsenal come from Woolwich originally anyway).
Sure Jim Fingers looks too much like Dave Higgs for anyone’s good but he pens some sharp old singalong pop pearls as exemplified by their Pye subsidiary Blueprint single ‘Modern Boys’, produced and generally sharpened up by ex-Advertising bod Simon Boswell, who even as you read this is working with them on their debut album which’ll hopefully be retailing near your own bedroom by next February.
Along with a second single, a headlining tour, a trip round Europe . . . yep, the Crooks are pretty sussed people.
Forget boring snobs everywhere, get your arse out gigside pronto and experience their rich bundle of poppy fun before they’re charging three sobs a ticket for the pleasure, ’cause I reckon the Crooks are ace enough to be on your box in the months to come, and I don’t mean Police Five either.
Even though that’s a very useful guide to what’ll be coming round the estate in the next few weeks (cont. Shooters Hill Police Station). (Garry Bushell)
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