Chris Bowden: The story of the story

A casual conversation; an unexpected connection. Treasure trove.

Chris at 'A Jazz Thing' at the Cuban Embassy, 2017      
Photo by Elliott Taylor       

I've been a DJ and Music Radio man for ages. Now it's documentaries - a stretch, but worth it when there are stories to tell. I've just wrapped up a demanding and lengthy project. I hope it makes compelling listening. 

Lengthy? Yes: there's a full concert (of charm and substance), key to the whole story, in this documentary. The gig has legendary status among a select circle of music fans. But it has lain unheard for years. Now, it gets a chance of a wider hearing.   

'Chris Bowden - The Lost Concert' got its first play at the end of January on Brum Radio. I've put the show up, both as a downloadable podcast, and on Mixcloud so it can be listened to at leisure - scroll down to the bottom of this post for the links.  

The programme is also available to stations in the UK and Europe - just ask; it is up on programme sharing networks. The goal is to get the word out. It's a bloody great story about a huge talent with stupendous music skills, who deserves a wider audience. 

Young Man Gone West

So what happened after City Boy, Steve? If you didn't know already, you'd never guess in a million years...

1978. I was conducting an interview on BRMB. It might well have been Bill Nelson from Bebop Deluxe, but I can't be sure. It was someone on the arty side of pop-rock, in any event. 

A call from security. Someone to see me: Steve Broughton, real name Steve Lunt. We were pals; I'd been championing his band, City Boy, for a couple of years. And they'd finally had a hit, '5705'. 

I hadn't seen him for some time. So, up he came... to hand me a silver disc for sales of their hit. I was chuffed, of course. It led to slightly awkward chat in the studio, in between records, with the three of us: me, my interview guest, who might have been excused for looking slightly askance at my visitor with his very pop hit. 

The following year, City Boy were in the States, a million-dollar contract with Atlantic records under their belts. That was the year they sacked Steve. 

Casino: Fourteen years of one step forward, two steps back.

A revised and expanded version of this post 

is included in the new Radio To Go ebook, Survivors 

Casino are still swinging. Their number might be coming up. At last. 

Photo from Jo Ostermeyer

For someone who has taken way too many false turns, who has run into endless broken promises, who’s gone back to square one far too often, Adam Zindani is remarkably chipper. Casino, one of the two bands he plays in, command great local loyalty. They deserve it, they're a fine rock band. But their story brutally illustrates just how much the record industry has changed around them during their fourteen years. From mega-deals to fighting to hold on to artistic control and self-production – it’s all there.

In many ways Casino are carrying on the great Birmingham rock tradition, even if the band members weren't even born when the original 70s metal monsters roamed the land. Strong songs, good players, they look the part: all this has attracted regular interest from big music biz players … who then, regularly, don't follow through.

I’m interested in their durability. When the record industry was imploding in the face of web competition, they threw a lot of bands overboard, destroying careers at random. They did that to Casino, several times. In response, the band has been jumping hurdles just to stand still, for a long, long time.