An evening with… Dando Shaft: the story of a "nearly" forgotten band

Genoa, in the 1970s, was a city that provided specific landmarks for the young people who walked through the streets of the city center in the late afternoon. One of these places was Disco Club. It was not simply a shop where you went to buy records, but it was, above all, a meeting place. It was easy to find friends and talk about the latest record releases, which at that time were incredibly frequent and explosive.

I clearly remember the evening when a friend asked me if I had listened to "An Evening with…", the debut album by Dando Shaft. No, I replied, is he good? What kind of music does he compose? The response was a smile halfway between mockery and irony. My blunder lay in the fact that Dando Shaft was not a solo artist, as I had mistakenly assumed, but a five-piece band. I had been deceived by what looked like a first and last name, but was actually the title that writer Don Calhoon had given to one of his "noir" novels. This book told the story of a rather peculiar character, Dando Shaft indeed, who aspired to become the "people's millionaire." He had published an advertisement in the New York Times inviting all his fellow citizens to send him money to help him become filthy rich. In exchange, the request stated, he would represent the people, he would be everyone's millionaire, and everyone would have the right to a share of his wealth. To Martin Jenkins, the group's guitarist, mandolinist, and violinist, the idea seemed nothing short of brilliant, hence the decision to choose that character's name for the band. After all, the idea of belonging to everyone, of "sharing" a musical experience in this case, fit right into those communal ideals that were very fashionable in 1968, the year the group was formed.

In that year, the lineup could be defined as a "five-piece folk-band," consisting of Kevin Dempsey (acoustic guitar and vocals), Martin Jenkins (vocals, mandolin, mandocello, flute, and violin), Ted Kay (tablas and percussion), Roger Bullen (bass), and Dave Cooper (acoustic guitar and vocals). Jenkins, born in Solihull, a small town near Birmingham, was a singular and whimsical character: in 1963, he had ventured on a tour of Germany with an entirely improvised band, with disastrous results. Upon his return, he destroyed or sold all his equipment to scrape together enough money to buy a good acoustic guitar and join The Cockade, a band active on the Coventry scene. There he met guitarist Kevin Dempsey, who at the time, following in his father's footsteps, was a rather clumsy percussionist. It was actually within Dando Shaft that he played the guitar for the first time. The group formed when Jenkins and Dempsey met percussionist Ted Kay and singer-songwriter Dave Cooper.

Their first album, "An Evening with Dando Shaft," was released in 1970. Production was entrusted to Miki Dallon of the Youngblood label. The credit for the release of this first album is largely due to their first manager, Sandy Glennon, who worked tirelessly to attract record executives to the group's early performances in Coventry. But it is worth telling the unique situation that allowed the group to sign the contract with the people at Youngblood. The musicians had gone down to London with the intention of recording a single at PYE Studios, but the room had already been booked by Johnny Silvo, a musician who was highly successful in those years (he had also recorded an album with Sandy Denny). With a bold move, knowing that Miki Dallon would be passing by the studios that day, Glennon managed to snatch the room from Johnny Silvo. As a result, Dallon was favorably impressed and proposed that Dando Shaft release their first album. The recording took place in those same PYE Studios in less than half a day's work: the musicians sat in a semicircle with an ambient microphone in the center. Everything was perfectly acoustic. Listening to it again today, that recording sounds as if it were made outdoors, with the sound of rain in the background (after all, "Rain" is the opening track of the record). The feeling is that the band had not yet made definitive choices; everything appears somewhat immature, and the compositions carry different influences, among which the English tradition certainly stands out, shining through in "September Wine" and "Drops of Brandy."

The record was accompanied by the single "Cold Wind / Cat Song" (Youngblood YB 1012). In the States, following quite flattering reviews published by Billboard and Cashbox magazines, it was Decca itself that handled the American pressing.

After this debut, the group received an offer from RCA, which was looking to launch a new "progressive" label on the market at the time: Neon. The band members enthusiastically accepted. In that year, we were in 1970, they also felt the lack of a female voice that could provide a wider range of registers to the compositions. Thus, Polly Bolton, a singer-songwriter from Leamington Spa, joined the band. Polly certainly had a highly expressive voice. She was no stranger to the scene: before joining Dando Shaft, she had already collaborated with June Tabor and with bassist Roger Bullen, who was also the one who suggested and introduced her to the group. But, as we know, choices must be well-pondered, and Kevin Dempsey was tasked with holding a few auditions during various British festivals. The first singer to strike Dempsey's sensibility was the then-unknown Linda Peters, a Scottish woman from Glasgow who, however, already had several commitments and would end up marrying Richard Thompson, with whom she would also have a long artistic partnership. With the Linda Peters hypothesis fallen through, the discouraged musician attended the Sidmouth Folk Festival, and here he was dazzled by Polly Bolton. The girl was initially not very enthusiastic about joining a musical group whose prospects were not so certain and glamorous. She wanted to study zoology, specifically gorillas. The musicians of the band had quite a hard time convincing her, and she only gave in to the idea when they demonstrated to her that the physiognomy of guitarist Dave Cooper was second to no chimpanzee on the continent. In any case, it was during her apprenticeship with Dando Shaft that she managed to obtain her high school diploma in zoology.

1970 and 1971 were years of great enthusiasm and creativity. On the occasion of a concert by the Southern Comfort Band, Iain Matthews introduced managers Howard and Blakely to the group, who decided to take an interest in and promote Dando Shaft's activities. In the meantime, the musicians moved with their families into a large house in Ealing, so they could work under the best conditions to fine-tune the repertoire for a new album. Opportunities to play live were not lacking: Martin Jenkins recalls evenings at the Roundhouse in London when, especially during the Christmas period, they could perform on the same stage as Gary Moore's Skid Row, Brian Auger's Oblivion Express, Vinegar Joe (featuring Robert Palmer), and East of Eden. Dando Shaft were appreciated despite playing with a sound system of just 100 watts.

In 1971, their second, self-titled album was released on the Neon label: "Dando Shaft." The gatefold cover is very beautiful and meticulously crafted, featuring a singular image: a carousel, with its wooden horses completely destroyed. On the record, there are some beautiful compositions by Polly Bolton, in particular "Whispering Ned," a rather ironical song about drugs, but in general, the overlapping of different influences is evident, ranging from English tradition to Eastern European sounds. On the whole, the record is good, probably their best, the fruit of careful work and scrupulous arrangements. Martin Jenkins' style, in its originality, certainly stands out: it is he who shapes the sounds and takes care of the arrangements.

The period was also intense for appearances on BBC programs, including the John Peel Sessions, whose opening theme was by Fairport Convention, while the closing theme was by Dando Shaft themselves. In general, the group performed about 60 original tracks during the BBC broadcasts.

In 1972, their third album, "Lantaloon," was released by RCA, preceded by the single "Sun Clog Dance / This Gift." The path followed was that of the second record, but in this case, it seems the band was experiencing a certain creative crisis; the tracks followed one another without brilliance. The record cannot be counted among their memorable ones. In fact, its success was relative, despite the significant advertising hype with which it had been announced. It was following this disappointment that the group disbanded. Polly Bolton temporarily worked in a pub, then formed a duo with Kevin Dempsey, and finally decided to leave for the States. Martin Jenkins, instead, joined Hedgehog Pie, a group with which he recorded two albums ("Hedgehog Pie" and "The Green Lady") for Rubber Records.

It was precisely for Rubber Records that "Kingdom" was released in 1978, a new album by Dando Shaft. The surprise was great. What had happened was that a year earlier, the group had decided to reunite to breathe life into a new project, though with somewhat uncertain goals. The album was enriched by the presence of some illustrious guests, including Rod Clements of Lindisfarne and the legendary Pentangle bassist Danny Thompson. But all the members of the band now had their own careers and defined personal projects: "Kingdom" was thus a light that, like a flash, turned on for an instant before going out. A pity. A pity because, as listeners, we establish an emotional bond with groups and their records, to the point of wishing that an artistic experience could last forever. But rationally, this is not possible, and we are left with our dreams.

Martin Jenkins' career was very dense. Martin was perhaps the most original among the musicians of Dando Shaft and possessed a very particular style. I loved his work very much: one day, entering Disco Club to browse through the new arrivals, I saw a record entirely his own looking at me, and I bought it: it was "Carry Your Smile" (Oblivion, 1984). I returned home satisfied, just like all those times when, even before listening to it, I felt I had something important with me. And that record was indeed, and affectionately, an important record; I still listen to it today on certain occasions. Martin was accompanied by Kevin Dempsey on that album; the collaboration between the two, which began in Dando Shaft, was continuing.

After the dissolution of the group, Jenkins had joined Plainsong, a lineup that included Iain Matthews, Andy Roberts, Andy Richards, and Bob Ronga: with them, he recorded the first album "In Search of Amelia Earhart," which was released in 1972 (Note: original text says 1976). That was the year he joined the band of the guitarist and former Pentangle member, Bert Jansch, alongside bassist Nigel Portman Smith, who had played in Magna Carta and with Pentangle themselves. They called themselves the "Bert Jansch Conundrum." It was a collaboration that lasted about five years and led to the publication of "Thirteen Down" (Kicking Mule, 1980), an album in which Jenkins played an important role: he was the author of the arrangements and played, respectively, violin, mandolin, mandocello, and flute. From that period, a Scandinavian tour remains memorable, of which all recordings have been lost, but fortunately, those of a Japanese tour by Jansch and Jenkins as a duo remain: "Live At La Foret" (Muskrat, 2006).

A very creative period, however, was that of Whippersnapper, an acoustic group in which Martin Jenkins reunited with Kevin Dempsey, and whose members included Chris Leslie (today a leading figure in Fairport Convention) and the legendary violinist Dave Swarbrick. It was the latter who first picked up the phone, called Martin, and proposed this new group: it was hard to say no to such a proposal. The group published four albums between 1984 and 1989, then Swarbrick decided to start a solo career, fell ill, and risked his life due to pulmonary emphysema, to the point that a British newspaper, by mistake, published the news of his death. But he underwent surgery and returned to a new life like Lazarus, and today—this is recent history—he has decided to form a new group with an emblematic name: "Swarb's Lazarus." Alongside him, once again, is Kevin Dempsey, in addition to the "fairport" Martin Allcock. I saw them two months ago—we are in June 2007—in the courtyard of an old noble palace, not far from Bergamo, on a cold but crystal-clear evening. I had the feeling of facing a piece of history; perceiving a time that does not pass is always intoxicating, it goes to your head, the heroes are still on the field. Dempsey is completely bald, hard to recognize compared to the Dando Shaft covers when he wore very long hair. I approached Swarbrick like a young kid, asking for an autograph on his first vinyl, dated 1976.

Of Kevin Dempsey, much could be said about his great skills as a guitarist; he has collaborated with truly many artists among whom, besides those already mentioned, Percy Sledge, The Marvelettes, and Alice Coltrane must be named. In 1987, he published his solo album "The Cry of Love," featuring Danny Thompson, Polly Bolton, Chris Leslie, and Paul Dunmall. The Nineties saw him producing records for various artists, writing film soundtracks, and performing with old friends: after the 2004 tour with Mary Black, Kevin joined the band Uiscedwr, with whom he still performs in concerts today. Their new album, "Circe," has recently been released. He has also been on tour with Peter Knight (Steeleye Span and Feast Of Fiddles) and Tom Leary (Feast Of Fiddles), as well as with Tanna and Joe Broughton. He lives in Coventry with his wife Jill, a garden designer.

Recently, RPM, a division of Cherry Red Records Ltd., published Dando Shaft's first three LPs in a single box set, distributed right here in Italy by the Tuscans at Abraxas. When I put "An Evening with…" back on the turntable, the sound came out clear from the speakers; I felt as if I were in that studio, with them sitting in a semicircle. Then they struck up "Rain."