Thursday, March 13, 2014

Joe Reynolds - Coventry Poet / Musician - Willow / Selecter

Joe Reynolds was a Poet, saxophonist /flautist and songwriter of the Coventry Jazz / Rock band Willow c 1973 /4 and who, in 1979 /80, sessioned on Sax with Two Tone band Selecter.  Joe also joined a reformed version of A Band Called George (who had made the single NCB Man for the Bell label) in 1974. Earlier, in 1970,  he had sessioned with the Chris Jones Aggression.

His early band - Willow (A Coventry jazz / Rock outfit)  advertised regularly in HOBO. Joe was also in various other bands along the way.  

Joe Reynolds later recorded at Horizon studios, playing on early Two Tone tracks by Selecter - He played on - 
Three Minute Hero and appeared with them on Top of the Pops.  Joe is at the back in this picture from Top of the Pops - with the Sax. Pic from Neol Davies site.

Joe Reynolds playing sax on Top of the Pops with Selecter -

Joe had longer hair when he was in the jazz / rock band Willow

Joe Reynolds in guest sax player in Selecter

Willow Advertised in Hobo magazine - Coventry Music and Arts Magazine 1973 / 74

Letter from Joe Reynolds 1974 in regard to advertising in Hobo. Can't believe ads were only 50p back then!

But back in 1974 Joe contributed some of his poems for my Communications books.  Before Hobo started i carried manuscript books inviting people I met to contribute poems, lyrics, graphs or thoughts - anything creative. Here are some of Joe's poems -

Poems by Joe Reynolds


Reflected spectrum on dew damp pane
Technicolour morning
Wisp away the sandman’s dust
Spraying wind to chill my face
Squealing seagulls whip the sky
Fingering foam claws the beach
Over the rock pool rapids.

Sandy lightening lizards
Moss covered rock wall walks
Spitting forks the bluebottle’s death
Sleepy venom adder
King of the anthill.

Red flamed circle kissed the crest
Rippling arrowheads across the waves
Captured second forgotten dusk
From the reaching cliffs echo
Cricket singing serenade the night
Tomorrow’s dawn will wake you.
Joe Reynolds c 1972


Behind the spot light
that shows
what’s for us
I find after looking, my truths 
folding themselves up.
To look small
and hiding behind each other
and towards the sides
of that light.
The countless confusions
struggling to find themselves
through the mist
that limps above them.
Joe Reynolds c 1972


Through the alleys,
Night lights
Strike the slabs
And pierce the road
She walks ever watchful,
Of her non existing love
As profit
Rings the strings of her heart
Guilt and pride
Beneath her powder
Asking for her wage
Her mind all ablaze with dreams
As home she takes him
Pretence of not caring
Parrot fashion so straight
And upstairs
Her room
Her cold room
Nakedness in routine
That he must not see
A powder tear
As all her dreams
Of silk and bells
And old friends drive her forward.

And he unsuspecting
He mustn't’t know
As her cheeks tighten
As her fingers try to relax
In fear she holds her throat
With a rock
And smiles
As he dresses
His clumsy pants
She laughs so loud
He runs leaving his underwear
She picks it up
Still laughter.
A wardrobe full
Of past experience
And tears
If only one would stay
Could anyone ever come back
Or are they all married
Her tears unfold
But listeners are as rare
As a unicorns horn
And who cares anyway
It’s her own stupid fault.
Joe Reynolds c 1972

The pain of honesty is that you have to tell the truth!
Joe Reynolds c 1972

Hobo Magazine - Poetry Pages 1973 / 5 (Part 1)

The following are contributions of poetry that were either published in Hobo or sent in for publication c 1973 / 5

Al Yedd

THE BACKWATER by Al Yedd - 1973.
Published in Hobo No 4 Summer 1974

It had been shortly after midday when the two men had
steered their cabin cruiser into the backwater.

Two snow white swans glided passed, turned and sat
motionless on the water studying the cruiser.

Must be nice to be a swan” David said.
Marc was gazing at the sky.
Yes” he agreed absently “But don't worry about that 
now; it looks as though we're in for a storm.

Dark storm clouds, which had blown up while they had
been talking, finally blotted out the sun.

David was not listening:
 “Only two swans on this section of the river as far as I know…..”
a titanic peal of thunder cut him short: The reeds,
which looked emerald green under the dark sky, shivered
with the noise. A jagged white sear ripped the sky
apart, almost immediately followed by another clash of
the aerial cannons. David glanced up and spoke quietly: “Dry lightning. Won't last too long. This part of the world is noted for its freak storms."

Up above them the peals and explosions continued and
the lightning illuminated the cabin cruiser. Presently
the storm, with its echoes of violence and destruction
of ages past and to come, ceased. Peace returned to
the backwater.

Four swans glided downstream past the now empty cabin cruiser.

THE CORRIDOR by Al Yedd 1973
Submitted to Hobo but not published at the time owing to space.

The Corridor exists. It occupies a place in creation.
The Corridor is long. It has no end. No beginning.
*                                     *                             *
The Corridor was inhabited. Along the white part 
walked man 1. He had lived there all his life. Man 1 
stopped. The Corridor had changed. It was no longer 
white. It was grey.

Man 1 did not think or speak about the change, 
rather he noticed it instinctively. Man 1 walked on. Why?

He stopped. Terror washed over him in waves which 
threatened to drown him. A few yards in front of him 
stood a figure.

Gradually the terror subsided. Man 2 moved closer.

Terrible images in man one’s brain accompanied the
 approach. He saw a figure stretched out on a floor, 
writhing in pain. Man 1 knew that Man 2 was offering 
this to him.

He started to run and was followed by a terrible noise 
called laughter. (The Corridor walls had changed colour 

Man 1 ran down the now black walled Corridor, followed 
by Man 2’s laughter and the chance to experience pain 
(really pleasure), unaware that he was vainly trying to 
flee from his other (evil?) self.

THE SAVED by Al Yedd
Submitted to Hobo but not published at the time owing to space.

In a place of perfection, in a time of morals, there
exists a square, white room. In the centre of the room 
there is a small, white, square table supported by delicately 
curving legs.

On top of the table are two champagne glasses 
and a large bottle of champagne. Occasionally a man 
and a women arrive. They are dressed in white suits, 
their pockets bulging with money. They drink some 
champagne and then depart.

They are citizens of Perfection, dwellers in 
Morals. They carry their god in their pockets.
But is not their god called the Root of all Evil?

The man and the women. The saved and the Damned - who can say?

Al Yedd and Trev Teasdel in Hobo Issue 4 summer 1974. Graphic by John Alderson

ODE TO A STORM By Gray Buckley
The crystal drops fall
From the heavens above
On to the silk-edged roofs
And the couples in love.

Into the surge of the gutter
And the turbid pipe-mouths
On the convexed ‘brellas
And flock o’ primitive shrouds

Archways and doorways
Bus shelters and canopies
Are all engaged 
in a task of mercies.

People hurry, guardians appalled
Their figments discouraged
The aged plough on, the pompous
Step about like frogs undernourished

The leaves and the plants collect
Water in their arms so plentiful
When the rain ceases
The sky no longer dull.

The procured liquid extends
Welcome to the passing bee
Therefore the gay life
Extends it’s help to ecology.

The domestics in the field
Bow down to the rain
Their legs folded beneath, upon
The vacant grass.

The bird of the wing
Has no desire to sing
For his plumage is drowned
His appearance quite profound.

The storm will soon pass
Leaving prominent scars
But releasing us of this gloom.

Gray Buckley - Published Hobo Issue 3  February 1974

It was Gray Buckley who introduced Al Yedd to Hobo through this letter - 

 By Trev Teasdel (WRITTEN JUNE 1970)

Multi-storied cities growing to the sun.
Multi-storied people in abundance.
Consuming congested oxygen
through a piping system designed by the electronic architect.
A computer for the Queen is launching a porcelain replica of the earth 
to cater for the anticipated increase in population, 
said likely to double present numbers very shortly.

The Pope, now ruler of the earth, 
still forbids the use of contraceptives.
New born babies are fitted with synthetic digestive systems, 
designed to digest human excrement,
as food is very scarce.

There’s so many people, that they are all contained in blocks, 
standing on each other’s shoulders.
Every necessity comes via a pipe or complex pulley system,
periscopes are fitted for the aristocracy.

Between each bank of towns is a small reservation 
for controlled exercise and breeding purposes.
A special mansion is allocated for the appointed maintainers of the cities 
and the robots fold up into a draw. 
Boredom is their plight and schizophrenia breeds like flies. 
Computerised music harmonises their idle thoughts. 
All music must be computerised and the musician’s union has been dissolved. 
Creativity is dead.

Comment From the Hobo Vox site 2007


  And you wrote that in 1970, mm, well before Coventry adopted the claustrophobia as a design element.

Posted by: BroadgateGnome | 03/08/2007 at 11:18 AM

This link takes you to plans for the re-development of Coventry's City Centre.

SKYMEN by Trev Teasdel July 1970
Published in Hobo Issue No 4

Skymen must look to
        To a 
colourful firmament
                                    of fields
                                And forests….
And the cities (multi-storied)
            G like clouds;
                    Like fluorescent

From HOBO No 2 August 1973 - Comment on the Scene! Trev Teasdel Aug 1973

There was a community of Greenflies and all the Greenflies were bored and each greenfly told the other how culturally apathetic their community was. “Nobody ever does anything ‘ere’” they were heard to say. One or two greenflies noticed that all the greenflies were saying the same thing as if it was only the others that were at fault. So they decided to get up off their butts and let the other greenfly know of this situation and that no fairy.

by Trev Teasdel - also published in Hobo issue No 2 - written 1968 

You came crashing through my cornea
Like a well aimed spear
You floated through my aqueous humour
With the speed of a rumour
My pupils opened wide
When you rushed in like the tide
My lenses did expand
When you showed your magic wand
But through the vitreous humour
Things must've got too hot
Because you played around
In my blind spot.
You forgot to look around the curve
When you landed on my optic nerve.
This poem also appeared in Trev's book  ESCAPED POET  - Poetic Licence Collective 1984

12/18/2006 from the original Hobo Vox site

Poems by Veronica Zundel

By Veronica Zundel – from HOBO No 4 1974

Your hand burns through my belly
               This knife steady I say
I can’t keep still much longer
                The knife slips
                          My belly burns through my head.


Veronica is now a published author - here are some links to her sites and work. Her work comprises poetry
religion & theology, women's studies. She also gives seminars/workshops, talks to adults, writes reviews and
writes for magazines/newspaper. She has produced - Compiler of 3 anthologies for Lion Publishing. Author of 'Going Out' (Hodder 1990) Regular writer for BRF 'New Daylight' notes and 'Woman Alive' magazine. Guardian article on Veronica

An interview with Veronica for Rebecca Writes

Veronica Zundel's poem in Hobo Magazine Summer 1974


Another Coventry poet who submitted work was Bob Davies. One of his poems appeared with Veronica's in the hobo page above. 

By Bob Davies (Willenhall Wood) from Hobo No 4 1974
 Her baby blue eyes
               Gave the impression of
A gentle creature
                Serene and placid.
Her beauty shining like the sun
                I know you shouldn’t go by looks
But I couldn’t help myself.
                She was far too good to be true.
She had the appearance of tolerance
                 All the sweetness of a flower.
But as we talked and time flew
                 I noticed a nasty streak,
Like a SPHINX, half-women, half lion
                 So I thought any minute
If the mood took you
                 You might pick up that brick
And smash my skull.

The Last Tourist
By Bob Davies Aug 1973
The last American tourist
Ambles his way through
A ruined Cathedral,
As the first art student
Approaches the polytechnic.
          The end of the Summer.

The tramp sleeps on the
Parkbench for the last time this year.
The artist makes his last sketch
Of a great masterpiece no one will ever see.
The poet in his trench coat looks
Cynically around, accessing his
Fellow man, then writes his last line
Of the hottest summer since 67
           And the pigeons remain
Tenants’ year in, year out.
Bob Davies 1974

Finished Paintings
 I have paintings on my walls
But they don’t make me happy
They sit there staring,
Dead to the world around.

Their flesh is fading,
The smiles of long ago are false now,
As they were so many years ago,
Paint is flaking, falling like
Feathers to the floor below
Bob Davies 1974

By ALAN – Earlsdon, – published in Hobo No3 1974

·        The crystallization of the material world becomes void after the concept of wealth becomes the ulterior motive.
·        It does not really matter whether you’re old or young; the sparks of idealism become potent with the passing of time.
·        To be born with the idea of truth in its natural form is irrelevant to the course of mankind.

This next one didn't make Hobo and I'm not sure now who it was from! His note is included here.

I look out on the city

On the golden neon lighting.

And I think about the morning

and the people in the sunlight.

Songs I have written

but never known the meaning.

Things I have looked at without seeing.

Like the enemy's I've made

before I've known them.


I received a couple of letters from Coventry musician and poet Michael Curtis in 1974 - here is one of his poems. This poem didn;t make it to hobo - mostly because the magazine was hard to fund and energy went into organising the Hobo Workshop gigs from the autumn of 1974.

by Michael Curtis (Written in pembrokeshire June 1974)
his tethered eyes reached after
a lark
string-snapped kite, tugged and dallied
by the wind to a cloudless noon -
the cell
within his vision
twisted this way, twisted that
tied in its tantrums
unable to take wings
whistling and jabbing
and in the end soaring
out of sight.

Letter 1 from Michael Curtis 1974

Monday, March 3, 2014

The Windsor Free Festival 1973 / 4


For Issue 2 of HOBO (the unpublished version) co-editor Bo (John Bargant) wrote an article on the 2nd Windsor Free Festival and we had a folded flyer for the 3rd in Issue 4 - August 1974. Other articles appeared in Hobo regarding some of the Coventry bands who played the festival. Here is Bo's article -

THE 2ND WINDSOR FREE FESTIVAL 1973 - (Article by Bo (John Bargent)

Distant, unbalanced sounds reached me as we walked up the grass slope towards a group of people numbering about 200. As I got nearer, I noticed a small band in the middle playing through badly distorted gear. It was only just a basic beat but it was entertainment and the start of the 2nd Windsor Free Festival.
At midday this great park had looked empty by mid afternoon the people had started to stream in and group vans were parking along the side of the road. At the other end of the site, the group VOID had set up on some planks and had started to play to 2 or 3 hundred people. Back at the other end of the site where the main stage was going to be, lurked a beared guy rushing to and fro with speaker leads in his hand. He looked like a roadie but was in fact ANDY DUNKLEY (the DJ) setting up bass bins and speakers to get his records on and to send out messages to the crowd. Meanwhile, behind Andy, a collection of road weary hired trucks and transits were parking and then, what was this...?

Yes .. Hawkwind had arrived. As I went up to say hello to Steve (the roadie with Hawkwind) and asked how everybody was and have a general natter about things since we were last together, it looked to us like it was going to be another Windsor Festival without a proper stage and to us roadies this means extra work!

Well I don't suppose you really want to know roadies talk so I will get on with it. After one big incident of the festival when a guy got busted and thrown in a police transit and about 3000 people rushed to the spot where the transit was to stop them taking him away while the transit drove over a guy who was in front of it. The festival then went back to it's normal peaceful self. Hawkwind played a nice set, late Saturday afternoon, which everybody enjoyed.

Well if I told you about the festival in detail it would take up all this mag, so to cut things short the music was good; the whole festival was good as it was free. Thanks to Hawkwind; Pink Fairies; Andy Dunkley and Coventry's FISSION and all the roadies that worked day and night to keep the music going and everybody else involved.

Fission - Coventry band c 1973 /4 - Johnny Adams / Al Varney etc.
By Bo (John Bargent)  A Hobo Magazine Co-founder /  Co-editor.

Report of the 2rd Windsor Free Festival in Hobo No 2 (Published version) - August 1973

2nd Windsor Free Festival 1973
Starts Saturday 25th August 1973 in Windsor Great Park, London, and is expected to last over a week with well over a hundred groups as well as poets / street theatre / solo singers and everything a far fetched imagination can think of (including free food and beer).

Some of the more well known groups appearing are -
Hawkwind, Pink Fairies, Skin Alley, Third Ear Band, Longdancer, String Driven Thing, Kraan (German group).

Coventry bands possibly appearing - Trilogy (featuring Al Hatton (Ex Indian Summer and Runestaff), Ron Ablewhite (Ex Torqwood), Roy Brewster (percussion); Just Jake (featuring John Alderson and Martin Barter); A Band Called George; Fission; Trev Teasdel and Don't Talk Wet! (Trev (me) I didn;t actually play) but Bo was promoting me around then and added me to the list. Further information was available from Bo and he wanted to know if anyone could supply any generators for the festival.


For the 3rd Windsor Free Festival Bo (John Bargent) supplied fliers to put inside Hobo Magazine Issue 4 and earmarked a number of Coventry bands to play the festival. Not all of them did but we included their names in that issue of Hobo.

From the Coventry Evening Telegraph 1974

Above the 'A' and 'B' side of the flyer that went in Hobo Magazine.

Hobo Issue 4 The entry read - 
"August 24th sees the start of the 3rd Windsor Free festival, organised by Communes. Last year 20,000
were gathered together in Windsor Park. This year they they anticipate 100,000 with over a 100 bands and artists participating. It is expected to last about 9 days in all. Being a free festival, they are relying on people contributing with things like unused stamps and envelopes to help with the heavy mailing list and food and drink, near the actual time. If by any chance anyone can help with supplying generators, they would be greatly appreciated. The address to write to is U.B.T. Bill Dwyer. BM- Circle, London WC1V 6XX.

Any bands, singers, poets, street theatre groups interested in participating, then contact Bo (John Bargent), 21, L:orenzo Close. Willenhall, Coventry. There is no payment but a great deal of publicity is received in the continental and British press."

Coventry bands ear marked to play -

Coventry News (Alternative newspaper c 1979 - 84)

COVENTRY NEWS - Introduction
c 1978 or 1979, I attended a meeting at The Wedge (Cooperative bookshop / Cafe) 13, The High Street.  Arol from Broadgate Gnome and Diggers Hole Artist Collective back in 1970, was there along with members of the Wedge.  I'd been involved in Hobo - Coventry's Music and Arts Magazine in the mid 70's and thought i might get involved but didn't, owing to commitments, however I buy copies, some of which are on here.
Coventry. The purpose was to discuss the creation of an Alternative Newspaper for Coventry.

"Coventry News was a monthly paper produced by a group of people living and working in and around
Coventry. It's aim was to cover news which is either ignored or distorted by the local commercial press. There was no one editor and editorial decisions were made by the group as a whole. There were many shade of opinion in the group and articles in the paper reflect the overall attitude - they were not determined by any one particular political line. They supported individuals and groups in their day to day struggles to improve housing, social amenities, working conditions etc. They aimed also to defend the interests of minority and oppressed groups.

Coventry News was dependent on the support of the Coventry public who would help in news-gathering, writing articles, production and in particular - distribution of the paper or make a financial contribution. The contact point was Ray Mason.

Coventry News also carried a good Whatz On section - bands, folk, disco, classical, theatre etc.

The Urge were featured in the Whatz On of an early edition of  Coventry News.

Urge - Revolving Boy - Live TV

Coventry News began in the  Newspaper format but later changed to an A4 magazine format.

Note - PDF versions of a few Coventry News Issues will be available on here soon.