Norman Jay - Mister Good Times

Norman Jay is unquestionably one of the most respected and popular DJs in the world today. Co-founder of the legendary Good Times Sound System and London dance music station KISS FM, Jay fostered the Rare Groove scene pushing the boundaries of the UKs emerging club culture. Awarded an MBE for services to deejaying and music, he recently compiled his most eclectic compilation to date, Good Times Skank & Boogie. He is currently taking his legendary Good Times parties to selected venues around the UK, continuing to convert generations of clubbers to the cause, championing new sounds, yet never forgetting his musical roots, thus guaranteeing nothing but Good Times.

DIALOGUE BOOKS

First published in Great Britain in 2019 by Dialogue Books

Copyright Norman Jay 2019

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978-0-349-70064-9

Dialogue Books

An imprint of

Little, Brown Book Group

Carmelite House

50 Victoria Embankment

London EC4Y 0DZ

An Hachette UK Company

www.hachette.co.uk

www.littlebrown.co.uk

To all my Good Time fans across the globe. Every time I have stood on a stage in front you, be it on the Good Times bus at Notting Hill Carnival, aprs-ski in Alpine snow or on Bondi beach in the blazing hot sun, you continue to be my inspiration to play good music.

Your open mindedness, boundless enthusiasm and non-stop dancing to (nearly) every tune played, even when I have turned left or simply been too upfront in my selections, your positive response serves only to reaffirm a lifelong love of quality music which motivates to me to play on to this day.

To the eternal memory of my brother PAUL and my sister PAMELA.

I looked up at this big old house, number 37 Cambridge Gardens, and just knew this would be the place for us. The road was in a turning off Ladbroke Grove just up from the Westway, so wed be in the heart of the action, and looking at the front garden I had it all pictured in my head: set up my decks there; the amps could sit just there; speaker boxes on each side; run the power line into the house through the front window... it was perfect, so I knocked on the door. Three white guys answered. I immediately thought theyd be up for it. This was 1980, before gentrification, so a lot of the big houses were squats or low rent properties, where residents had a more open attitude to people like us doing our own thing. I was so sure theyd be amenable that I didnt ask them, I told them. I said, Ive got a sound system and were going to set up out here for the weekend. They didnt really think about it, they just stood there smiling and one of them said, Sure! No problem.

As confident as I thought I had been, I had to work to stop the surprise showing on my face. I maintained this calm demeanour, but inside I was punching the air and screaming Yesssss! I got so excited I told these guys, Of course well pay you. Well give you ten bob 50 pence to cover the electricity. They actually looked surprised, and I realised I could have done it for free, but that didnt matter at all. Id put my flag in the ground. My sound system, Good Times, was going to play the Notting Hill Carnival.

This was massive. I was totally aware of the importance of playing the Carnival, but not as somebody who had been taken there since they were a little kid and had its traditions in their blood: the significance for me was as an aspiring black deejay looking to make my mark in London in the 1970s. I had no name as a deejay at that point the biggest gigs Id played were my birthday parties at my mum and dads house but I was a dedicated clubber and knew the only place that we black deejays could properly express ourselves was the Carnival. It was our platform, somewhere we could make statements that we could truly call our own. At that time it was the only place we could play to a big audience on our own terms and be properly creative with our music. I knew what a big deal it was, I felt ready for it.

Cambridge Gardens was right on my manor, too. Although Id lived in Acton since I was a baby, Id actually been born in Ladbroke Grove and spent my first few months there. I still looked on it as where I was from because I had a lot of uncles and aunts up there so I was around there all the time my dad spent his first night in England, in 1955, in a house on the corner of Blagrove Road and Acklam Road, number 1 Blagrove Road, W11. Id always felt a powerful connection to the area.

Playing the Carnival with so little experience wasnt just a mad idea. I knew I had the music, my brother Joeys equipment was second to none in terms of quality, and my birthday parties were big affairs, so I was mentally prepared to do this. Setting up our sound system to play there was, I realised, a moment Id been building up to for four or five years.

It was when I went home that the hard part was about to begin. I had to sell the idea to my brother Joey. It was his gear, hed built the sound system about five years previously as Great Tribulation, a full-on roots reggae sound system, and that day he was anti the idea from the moment I charged in shouting Joe! Weve got a spot! and I could understand why. With Great Tribulation he was very much a part of the traditional reggae sound system world and knew all the risks, especially at an event like the Carnival where there were hardly any regulations, meaning sound systems could set up where they liked and it was survival of the fittest. Joe was very aware that any newcomer, especially a small sound like ours, was easy pickings and could have been pushed off their patch or, worse still, taxed, which is essentially getting mugged and having equipment or records taken. He was right to be worried, and Im sure that only my enthusiasm carried it through there was no way I was even contemplating not doing it.

Back then Carnival used to run all through the bank holiday weekend from Friday evening until Monday night with no curfews. I didnt want to wait a minute more than I had to, so on Friday afternoon we borrowed our dads old Mk 2 Cortina to get the gear down there. This car was terrible it kept breaking down, you could start it with a hairpin or a front door key, and it had been nicked so many times that Dad had put this massive chain through the steering wheel, round the brake and clutch pedals and fastened with an enormous padlock. Not that this mattered to me, as once we took the back seats out there was a huge space, and, wary of Joeys concerns, we took the bare minimum of gear, meaning myself, my brother and Percy Henry, our great big mate who was our muscle, could all pack in. It was raining, Joey was still moaning, but nothing was going to bring me down.

We got there and found other sounds were already playing, so we set up in that front garden, plugged in and we were off. I could hardly believe it, this was a serious dream realised: Good Times was at the Carnival, blasting the best soul and funk in London. I was so caught up in the moment I told my brother that we werent going to take it down that night, that I was going to stay there all night, sleep there, outside in that front garden, so thered be no risk to the gear.