Graham
Caldicott was a larger than life figure with a unique, gothic
imagination and a personality that easily won (and lost!) him many
friends. I first met him at Caludon Castle Comprehensive School in
Coventry. We were twelve. He lived round the corner to me and for
many years we walked to and from school together. Later we cycled
there together. Initially it was a love of bikes, cars, football,
rock music poetry and the Arts that bound us together. We rapidly
found we had many many more common tastes than that, and a shared
oddball sense of humour. We became best friends. Not inseparable-but
very close.
We
played in the same football team, the same Subbuteo League and acted
in the same Theatre productions. Each year he and I fought it out for
whom came top in English. If we hadn't been two giggly, disruptive,
noisy, long-haired reprobates sitting together we would definitely have monopolised
the School Prizes for English. But many of the teachers either
disliked us or misunderstood us, so neither of us ever won anything.
Whilst
at school we formed our own language, and the separate alter egos of
Pletlogarsi and Lappinook. We invented our own mythical world of
Galunia together, and along with another Graham, Graham Manley, we
became “The Timewashed
Mind “- a poetry
performance trio. We traded records, clothes, subbuteo players,
Scalextric cars and model railways engines. We started writing
collaboratively, and recorded some of the hysterically funny results
on reel-to-reel machines. He wrote some of the best poetry and
creative writing I had ever seen, and was also a truly gifted mimic and
actor. He began a diary-”The
Memoirs-” and I copied
him. I write my own version, still. It will be a sad entry today.
Graham left school after “O”
levels, and began a trial work period at Rootes where his Grandad was
an influential manager. But things didn't work out and he was allowed
back into Caludon's Sixth Form to study for A Levels. Where he did
Art and English. Neither of us were allowed to do a third A level
because we had mucked about so much during Vth Form. Instead we were
forced to write a thesis. Graham's was his first work of creative
genius. It was about the historic Car Marques of Coventry. He started
researching it very conscientiously, but eventually got bored, and
made up biographies of mythical firms. At least 50% of what he finally
submitted was Fiction. Nobody ever questioned it, so well was it
written.To earn a bit of spare cash we ran a car-washing business together. Hilarious and quite lucrative. We also sold Golden Goal tickets together at Highfield Road.
Unfortunately, just as he was accepted
into the Sixth Form at Caludon Castle, his parents relocated to
Gillingham. However I persuaded my mum and dad to take him in,as a
lodger and for a madcap year or so he lived with us at Morris Avenue. It was crazy.
We shared a bedroom, which was a great
preparation for student living a year later. The actor Ron Cook was
part of our close circle of friends, and along with several other
gifted people we took a strong interest in Literature and theatre.
Ron delights in reminding me that that particular Sixth Form, with
all its actors, poets, writers and painters, was considered by the
teachers to be of the finest ever cohorts the school had produced.
During
this time most people got to know Graham as “'Garsi,” his chosen
nickname. When we left school, though most of us ended up studying in
London, we lost contact a little. I still saw him occasionally-he was
at The Drama Centre in Chalk Farm-and he came over to our South
London College occasionally to see bands there. When I got married,
and moved back from Coventry to London, I found he had done the same.
We eventually hooked back up together.
We
both continued to meet socially and to go to football matches
together. Eventually he became a founder member of Black Parrot
Seaside, when it was in its pomp as a Rock Band. He was there at
the band's first ever gig and shared many triumphs with us. We shared
vocals-either in choruses, or in taking alternate verses as in “Sleep
Town.” We co-wrote many
songs together. He's second from the left in this picture.
When he wasn't rehearsing with us he was beginning to be drawn into a
crowd which weren't entirely good for him. Probably best to draw a
veil over that particular time. He had picked up some bad habits
and some addictions. This meant that at times he was charming, funny,
generous and charismatic. But at others he could be unreliable, rude,
erratic, and infuriating. (Later I realised he was seriously ill).
About 1978 the Rock Band split up, and drifted into Folk, which was
never truly his thing. We continued rehearsing and performing, and
still included some of his songs in our set-but he never returned.
Our
working environments, lifestyles and work hours had become very
different. Gradually we drifted apart again. I moved away from
Coventry in 1987 and never saw or heard from him again. So I was
delighted to hear from a third party much later, that he had finally
got to grips with some of his problems. Because if he hadn't, it was
evident to me, and to most who knew him, that if he didn't, he would
have died very young. He evidently got himself together, found
religion, and got a work ethic sorted out at last. Last I'd heard he
was settled and making a real effort to make things right with his
family.
His
contribution to Black Parrot Seaside was massive. He wrote most of
“I am a Vacuum Cleaner,”
which got us airplay on Radio One! Though not performing at all by
that time, he was credited on the 1978 vinyl album featuring it. When
we released a CD in 2008 ,”Vacuum
Cleaner” was still
featured in our set, and so again-he got a credit. We still
occasionally do “Dirty
Gertie” and “The
Blueland Boy,” wonderful
songs which were Garsi's only attempts at writing to a folk genre.
He and I co-wrote “Ordinary”
which featured in the Rock set list. He took lead vocals on “Nails”
and “Mr Unusual,”
both of which he wrote. He joined me on vocals in “Brutus,”
“Small, Maladjusted and
Mean,” and “Failure.”
Recordings of all these songs still exist, but they are scratchy,
mono, versions of what in all modesty were good tunes. Personally,
I'd like to resurrect a few of them-but we shall see. For now, Graham
Stuart Caldicott, a.k.a. Garsi, Pletlogarsi, White Prince Roosy,
Fylo Paloon, rest and sleep easy, my brother.
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| Graham's on the far right in this promotional shot taken at Hawkesbury. |
