The Dead Livers

In Jan. 2018 I was asked (by someone who was an 18 year old punter at Ronnie Wearmouth's Star of the West when the Dead Livers played there in the early '80s) if I remembered an event. He recalled Ronnie producing a number of World War 2 pilot masks and strapping them to the groins of some patrons -- thus allowing the long breathing tube to dangle between their legs. The men so adorned then paraded in front of the band much to the mirth of the rest of the audience. I guess it was an era when things like this were not deemed as offensive as they might be today. I don't recall it but I'm sure it happened.

The incessant ringing of a doorbell finally permeated the disoriented brain of the scantily clad young woman as she stirred from the couch that had been her place of repose since losing consciousness some time in the preceding hours. She negotiated the mine field of bottles, cans, overflowing ash trays,  half empty glasses and prostrate bodies to open the door to a disturbed landlady. The property owner seemed confused when confronted with an unfamiliar face and queried the whereabouts of her legal tennants.  It had been about ten hours since the Dead Livers were  judged winners of a heat in 3UZ's Country Music Battle of the Bands at the Reservoir Hotel, and the band and supporters had retired for celebrations at the bass guitarist's rented Kensington cottage. It was here that one of the guitarists had found himself wrapped around a toilet bowl in the early hours of the morning,  and here that a handful of others  ultimately  sucumbed to the onslaught of drugs and alcohol as th