Hoping to bring you a review of the Beatles tribute in Bath last night, but I thought I’d explain the strange thing which happened on the way back home, because while I accept there’s some weird people in Chippenham, this guy was off his rockerโฆ.
I suppose there’s a lesson to be learned. I’m not getting any younger, and trekking from one gig to review to another is taking its toll. I’m tired, but was keen to catch the last few songs at a gig in Devizes, so I confess, I was putting my foot down. The road was wet, and though usually I’m a careful driver, I guess I just had a momentary lapse of reason. I can’t explain why, I just lost control of the car I guess, on the Bath Road near Rowden Hill.
In those split seconds when fear grips you, I was careening off the road. A lampost abruptly came into my headlights and I was heading straight towards it. There was a moment when I assumed I would hit it and braced myself. That’s when this white figure of a young man stepped out from nowhere, like, from behind the lampost. Noting him there, though he surprised me, I yanked the steering wheel with one final hope to serve away from both him and the lamppost.
The thing was he didn’t seem too alarmed, or particularly concerned I nearly hit him. Oddly upon noticing me he kind of waved his arms, as if willing my car away from the imminent collision. The car spun suddenly, far further than I expected given the full lock, skidding away from the guy and post, I managed to regain control to brake to a halt. It was kind of hard to explain, but as if the guy’s kinetic energy willed the car to safety.
At least I was okay, but really shaken. I felt a chill run through me. Regaining my senses I figured I should find the man, thank him, and check if he was okay. By the time my shivering hand went to open the door he had approached it. A good looking fellow, I guess early twenties. He wore a brown leather jacket with a fluffy collar and underneath it I noted a rather neat pin-stripe suit. His blonde quiff blew as if in a zephyr, even though it didn’t seem windy out there. As I rolled the window down he put two ice cold hands on the descending window and protruded his head into my vehicle.
He seemed understandably agitated and a little confused, I mean I get that, right, given the circumstances, but before I could ask him if he was okay, he asked me if I’d seen someone called “Sheeley,” with a desperation in his rich, Northern American accent. Confused, I said no, being there was no one else around. In this he asked again, for two people called Pat, or Gene, but it was obvious Sheeley was the one he was most concerned about.
He wasn’t happy with me at all, there was frustration in his tone, claiming I had hit his taxi, but there were no other cars involved, or even nearby. It didn’t help that I pointed this out to him, as he expressed a need to get to Heathrow for an early flight home. I know and accept, anyone hanging around this area just outside Chippenham at this time of night is likely a weirdo, right, I mean there’s no clubs or pubs nearby, but there was something eerie about this whole guy’s persona, a lost, almost ghostly presence.
Frustrated, he told me it was his last gig here, he had just played the Bristol Hippodrome, in what he deemed “a backward country which wouldn’t know rock n roll if it slapped you in the face.” I disagreed, and told him I had just seen a great tribute act to the Beatles, who although weren’t exactly the originals, were pretty good. All I recieved was a confused reply; can you believe it, clearly he’s a musician and even if he’s American, he said, “who?” The guy hadn’t even heard of The Beatles! He quipped it was a stupid name for a band, so I asked him who he played for, thinking he might like a gig at Melksham’s rock n roll club.
He didn’t answer, clearly not the time nor place for smalltalk, he continued to look around him, occasionally turning his head to yell, “Sheeley!” Sauntering around he left my car and continued his imaginary search, kicking into the bracken looking for them and desperately calling their names, adding “c’mon everybody,” almost in hollow chanting melody, he cried out, “let’s get together tonight, I got some money in my jeans, and I’m really gonna spend it right!” Like I said, totally off his rocker.
Clearly he was either drugged up or schizophrenic, and blaming me for, apparently, hitting his taxi. I felt obliged to humour him, lest he might get dangerous, so I called the Chippenham police.
Sorry I did now, I mean I know the force is under pressure from cuts and so on, and Chippenham is hardly state-of-the-art, but this Rover P6 police car turned up with some long-haired youngster who’s uniform belonged in a museum! Calling himself “Dave Dee,” of all things, he didn’t even engage with the Yankie nutjob, it was as if he couldn’t see him. He just searched the bushes, unbelievably pulled out a broken Gretsch guitar, and, chuffed with himself, told me how he was going to fix it up and start a band, then got in his battered panda and drove off. Typical, useless copper!
If something’s worth doing it’s best to do it yourself, right? There’s no help from the police these days, so as Dave the copper’s rear lights faded into the night, I thought I’d have to see if I can settle the mind of this American crazy youngster. I mean, he seemed like a great guy, very interesting, and someone I could’ve easily got along with if we’d met under different circumstances. Maybe I could appeal to his better nature?
I sighed and crossed my fingers, opening the car door to find him, but he had gone, completely vanished. I looked everywhere, took my phone torch to the area, there was no sign he was ever there. The bracken he was rumbling in was undisturbed, which is more than can be said for me! I shivered as finally, a cold wind blew down the street, and so I hurried back to my car.
I got into the driver’s seat, feeling frozen and spooked. Gripping the wheel with white knuckles I started the engine and looked out to the road ahead. Slowly I pulled out of there, telling myself repeatedly it was just some prankster playing a joke on me. When I get home I’ll just draft up a review of the gig and try to forget this happened.
Until I got to the bottom of Derry Hill I drove in silent contemplation, but feeling lonely and a tad afraid, I thought I’d bluetooth my phone to the car stereo and just shuffle some tunes. The first song sang out, “Well, when you hear that music, you can’t sit still, If your brother won’t rock, then your sister will, Ooh, c’mon everybody!”
I recall this song, from one of my mum’s rock n roll compilations, but I’ve never downloaded it to my phone, and checking my playlists when I got home, it wasn’t on there. So I checked what was on at the Bristol Hippodrome last night too, there’s no rock n roll show at all, they’re hosting Pretty Woman the Musical!
Freaked out, I went straight to bed, the better half was sound asleep next to me. She suddenly woke up, screamed, “the house’ll be shakin’ from the bare feet a-slappin’ the floor!” And then she promptly went back to sleep. Me, I couldn’t sleep a wink, and she had no recollection of saying anything of the sort in her sleep. And oh, by the wayโฆ. Happy Halloween; Muahahaha!!!!
Of course, I ‘m full of bull, a little spooky fun on Halloween! But the idea came from an eerie blogpost from the Horses of the Gods, taking an article by Albie Morris, first published in the July 1980 edition of โThe Delirium Curiosumโ a now defunct, Wiltshire based underground cultural newspaper which started in 1971 and was dedicated to avant-garde poetry, wyrd folklore, ghost stories, hippy philosophy, Eastern mysticism and other ideas associated with the counterculture.
It suggests a few people have witnessed the ghost of Eddie Cochran at his tragic accident spot in Chippenham, including a chap called Mick Harris from Devizes. Do give it a read, fascinating stuff, and spooky too!
โHereโs to Windwhistle and places of dread, is there nothing to fear from the living or dead?โ
The Horses of the Gods are West Country folk duo, Mike Ballard and Matty Bane, and they are remembering their debut album, We Wish You Health which was released on 31st of October 2020. We fondly reviewed it HERE, and it makes the perfect Halloween listen! They told Devizine a while ago they were working on a second album, which had some folklore references to Devizes, and we very much look forward to hearing it.
devizine.com 