By Virginia Winder

Have flash guitar, will look cool - that was Midge Marsden's cunning plan when he was a lad.

And it worked so well, the New Plymouth-born son found himself on stage for the rest of his life.

For more than four decades, Midge has been playing the guitar, singing pop, rock and the blues, howling on his harmonica, and jumpstarting joints with his wild jive talkin'.

It all began in the late 1950s, when Midge was a music-obsessed teenager, forever searching for new sounds on the radio. Through his station hopping, he discovered rock 'n' roll - Elvis Presley, Ritchie Valance and Chuck Berry.

When Cliff Richard and The Shadows ascended the airwaves, young Midge was so impressed by lead guitarist Hank Marvin he ordered an instrument just like the one his hero twang-twanged on. 

"Hank Marvin was God," says Midge, sitting at the kitchen table of his parents' Birdwood Avenue home, where he began life as Keith.

Because he was so small, he got the nickname "Midge", an alliterated label that has proved ideal for a life in the limelight.

The 16-year-old Shadows fan saved up his earnings from delivering milk and newspapers and sent to Christchurch for a hugely expensive cherry-red L-series Fender Stratocaster guitar.

It will be mine…oh yes…

"I was among the first to buy one in New Zealand, much to the horror of my parents - 130 pounds in those days was a lot of money for something I couldn't even play. I couldn't play a note of it!"

To put the cost into context, in 1960, Midge could have bought a gable-type, steel-frame haybarn (₤132) or a brand-new Foodarama Kelvinator fridge-freezer (₤119) for about the same price he paid for his Stratocaster.

News that the Marsden boy had this fancy instrument quickly spread through Taranaki's hip music set, which included Stratford band man Bari Gordon.

"His father got shot in the war in Italy and the place he ended up was Bari, so he named his son after it," Midge says.

Bari was in The Nite-Lites, the resident band at the Queen's Hall. They, along with Colin King and the Harmonisers, were New Plymouth musical institutions.

"Bari was forming his own group, (the Blue Diamonds) and he phoned me up and said 'I hear you've got a Fender Stratocaster', and I said, 'yeah'.

"He said, 'Well, would you like to be in a band?' So that's how you get into a band you see - buy a really flash instrument and you're in because it looks cool," Midge grins.

Can't play, but looking cool

Then came the crunch question. "He asked me could I play and I said 'Yeah, no, no, yeah'. I couldn't play anything hardly," he confesses.

But looks were more important. "Before I knew it I was in a band quick sharp and boy, did I learn fast."

The Stratocaster isn't the only guitar that Midge remembers with romantic notions - but that comes later.

Meanwhile, The Blue Diamonds worked as a backing band for a travelling talent contest run by the "Singing Cowboy", a man who has a world record to his name.

Midge says the first rock 'n' roll record to be produced outside America was made in New Zealand by this "cowboy", Johnny Cooper in 1955.

"It was a cover version of Rock Around the Clock," Midge breaks into song. "It was pretty awful actually, abysmal, but it's cool, it's really cool now, it's historically kind of an interesting piece of vinyl."

Dinah and Diamonds

Mod Queen: Dinah Lee was a big hit

in the 1960s.

On the talent circuit, The Blue Diamonds also played covers. "Of course, you start backing everybody, from people singing Ave Maria, to Never Walk Alone to rock 'n' roll, whatever - you had to cover the whole spectrum."

The other band members were Bari (lead guitar), Tim Nuku, who was later replaced by Dave Orams (bass), Bryan Beauchamp (drums/lead vocals) and Midge (rhythm guitar).

When the talent quest got to the semifinal stage, a special guest came along each week as a drawcard.

One of those was Dinah Lee, best known for her hit singles Don't You Know Yokomo, Reet Petite and Blue Beat.

"She was like a big star," Midge says.

The pop singer, dubbed the "Queen of the Mods", also developed a soft spot for a member of The Blue Diamonds.

But professionalism came first and she requested a rehearsal with the band before the show. Her work ethic was Midge's downfall.

"I had to take a day off work and I sort of lied," he winces.

Photographs don't lie

At the time, Midge was a clerk for New Zealand Insurance (NZI). "I rung up and said I was sick and my parents didn't know because I snuck off down to the (Fitzroy) hall. The Taranaki Herald came along to take a photo of Dinah Lee, and there, just in the background, visible enough to be recognised, was moi."

Someone else also noticed the small figure playing his guitar.

When Midge arrived at work the next day, NZI manager Les Croxon curled his forefinger in a silent "come here, boy".

"He showed me the paper, and there's me," Midge says. "I'm nearly crying and I was sacked. He sacked me! I was horrified."

There is a postscript to this story, one involving the young guitarist and a pop star - but first Midge shares the trauma of being fired.

"I came home and I hid in the bushes up the top of Birdwood Ave; sat there with my raincoat on."

Finally, the terrified teen slunk home to face his parents, Les and Elaine Marsden. "Boy oh boy, I was not popular," Midge says.

Even now, Les is stern about the incident. "He would've had a good job at the NZI if he had put his mind to it. But music was more important."

On music trail - for good

To the unemployed clerk it was everything. "All of a sudden I thought 'I've got a job; I'm a professional musician', which in those days was unheard of," Midge says. "So that's how it started really - much to the horror of my parents."

Les admits he did feel that way in the beginning. "There was no money in playing a banjo and guitar," he says. "It wasn't a real job. They were not making money - just making do, hand to mouth."

While they weren't going to become rich, the band boys were at the forefront of youth culture in New Zealand.

And so, when an English band turned the world upside down, Midge was right there, Stratocaster in hand.

In 1962, The Beatles released their first single, Love Me Do. It only reached No 17 on the British charts, but there was more to come.

Beatles revolution hits NZ

On the flipside of the Earth, John Lennon, Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr and George Harrison made a huge impact on young Kiwis.

"Yeah I can remember that alright," says Midge, thinking back to 1963, when The Beatles crept up on him.

"I thought they were an Auckland band because I heard this song on the radio called Please, Please Me - never heard Love Me Do. But, Please, Please Me (singing)… and the guitar sounded quite Shadowy, quite Hank Marvin, that real kind of Fender twangy sound. Instrumentals were big in those days."

The Beatles, who toured New Zealand in 1964, were bigger. "Well all of a sudden that '60s revolution came and like teenagers all over the world, we declared our independence," Midge says.

"I feel so lucky to have been part of that new energy, that new movement and before you knew it, every town in every Western country of the world people had formed bands and were playing in garages - New Plymouth was just another place where everyone was in a band. It just changed the world didn't it? So out went the blue satin jackets from our little band."

In came long hair, polo-neck jerseys, pointy boots, and black pants.

Sixties' sight causes night fright

Happy Hosts: Elaine and Les Marsden were always happy to put up Midge and mates - once they got used to their clothes.

Les and Elaine remember those fashions vividly; even found them frightening. They remember getting a knock on the door in the middle of the night. "I turned the light on the porch and saw all these faces, with blimmin' hair hanging down and winkle-picker boots," Les says. "I didn't open the door very wide - we were scared stiff."

The scruffs were Midge and fellow musicians looking for a place to sleep after a gig in town. "They all dossed down here," Elaine says.

"The whole mob would come here," Les says. "We'd have nine around the table for dinner."

But never served with alcohol, which was banned in the Open Brethren home. Later, when Midge had his own blues band, he made his living out of playing in hotels.

Devil goes down to Ngamotu

"That's right - playing the Devil's music," says Midge, wearing a wicked grin and a Betty Ford Clinic, "Clean and Serene" T-shirt.

With hands around a mug filled with a fizzy-orange Vitamin B drink, a reviver after a gig in a city bar and a late-night session with mates, Midge reflects on his teetotal upbringing.

"You were warned about drunks in the pub. You were always like 'what goes on there?' 'It's a hotel.' 'What do they do in there?' 'They drink.' 'Oh…'"

But when the Government changed the 6o'clock closing laws in 1967, extending the opening time to 10pm, Midge joined the pub-playing circuit.

Surprisingly, that choice of venue didn't stop Les and Elaine attending concerts.

"We used to go when they came up here to play," Les says.

He lists the Ngamotu Tavern (now a church), the Bell Block Hotel (now a rest-home) and the Westown Hotel (now an education facility) as the places to go in the 1970s, 80s and early 90s.

The Marsdens are extremely proud of their son.

"What he did, he did on his own," Les says. "All those boys did. When they left here they had nothing. First up, best dressed sort of style."

Life on the road

But Midge's dad made certain his son did have something. One time when he came home, Midge told his parents he desperately needed a vehicle so the band could travel to gigs.

"I paid for a van for him," Les says. "It was an old Austin van - that's going back a few years - it was pretty old, but it never gave him any trouble. He would travel around the North Island and sleep in it."

By that time, The Blue Diamonds had become Bari and the Breakaways. The name change was suggested by an imported star during the band's stint backing talent quests.

"We did it three times," says Midge, explaining how the show covered Taranaki, then Manawatu and on to Wairarapa.

One time, they got to back Birmingham-born guest star Tommy Adderley, who offered some advice. 

Midge remembers his words. "He says, 'Blue Diamonds, you are a great band; you sound great; you look great; but that name…'"

A true Breakaway

The Breakaways was an apt name for the boys, especially Midge, who had broken away from his open Brethren upbringing to live an uncertain life.

Despite misgivings, the Marsdens accepted Midge's choices. "He's your son," Les says. "We had to let him go, you know. It was what he wanted and that was it."

And the band did well. In 1965, Bari and the Breakaways scored a nationwide hit with a cover of The Kinks' single, Long Tall Shorty. On the flipside of the HMV-produced 45 record, was their version of The Who song I Can't Explain. 

Les flicks through his record collection to find the single, and the early Breakaways albums. Every piece of music their son has ever produced is here, in the house where it all began. "When I put it on now, he turns his nose up at it. He hears it now and thinks how awful it was," Les says.

On reflection, Midge adds: "But as a body of work, it was pretty good for the time."

Bari and the Breakaways made three albums, a string of 45s and appeared on TV pop music show, Come On.

Fodder for fanatic fans

"All of a sudden, wow, we were pop stars," Midge snorts. "Like a million other bands…"

They even had fans. "In the Wairarapa we got chased down the street by teenage girls. It was like that, honestly. It was unbelievable. I don't talk about it any more because no one believes it, they just sort of go, 'Oh yeah'. It happened, we were all sort of small and Bari was quite cute. He was the cute one - there you go."

In the late 1960s, the band became The Breakaways. 

"Bari died," Midge says.

The young man was found dead in the Imperial Hotel. "He had moved into music promoting, hiring bands, touring them and running dances," Midge says. "Things weren't going so well financially for him, his marriage failed and when I last spoke to Bari, he was pretty disillusioned with everything.

"He booked himself in there and took an overdose of sleeping pills. I don't think he meant to kill himself, I think it was an accidental death," Midge says.

Rough Waters: The Breakaways cruised on without Bari Gordon, but it was never the same.

"So we carried on as The Breakaways, but it was never really the same and by the time 1970 came we sort of all just ground to a halt really."

Midge joined the New Zealand Broadcasting Corporation in Wellington, working in radio for about eight years. "I stopped playing completely in that time. Got married (to Deborah Drawbridge) and had two children and was a serious public servant."

However, the marriage didn't last. Midge and Deborah were divorced in 1977.

"That's when I got back into playing," Midge says. "Just by chance really because I had not touched instruments in all that time."

First he landed a backing track for a television commercial and then he began howling on his harmonica for a country rock band led by Peter Caulton. When the latter left, Midge took over The Country Flyers. The Wellington pub they played in was called the Royal Tiger and, appropriately, was on Taranaki Street.

"I just went from there really," he says.

The pub's no longer there, and Midge doesn't live in Taranaki. But he still calls New Plymouth "home" and his music career keeps rollin' on.

P.S. When Midge was just starting out with his Stratocaster, Dinah Lee thought the Taranaki lad was something special.

"She took a shine to me," he grins. "But at the time I was going out with Bev Gordon (Bari's sister).

"A Fender Stratocaster, go out with the lead singer's sister - what more do you need to be in a band," Midge digresses.

Back on track, he talks about how Dinah had connections with a New Zealand company, Beverley, Bruce & Goldie (BBG) Industries, which made Jansen guitars. "Through her contacts, she sent me a brand-spanking-new Jansen Beatmaster (guitar) - which was a New Zealand copy of a Telecaster - in a beautiful case."

He leans forward to mock whisper: "And under the lid of the cover was a message, 'To Midge, with all my love, Dinah'. She sent me a guitar as a sign of her love to me."

Midge's face turns little-boy sheepish. "In the interim years between the time we (The Breakaways) moved from New Plymouth to Wellington, it disappeared. It got stolen actually. I don't remember the details, but I remember thinking, 'Oh my God, it's gone'," he says.

"But wait! There's more."

About 1999, Midge heard from a man called Gordon Spittle, who had written a book called Counting The Beat, about the New Zealand music scene.

"He sent me an email saying: 'Midge I just went to this garage sale and I bought this Jansen Beatmaster for $250, and inside the cover it said 'To Midge, all my love, Dinah'. I just want to confirm it's yours."

Midge's reply was swift. "It's mine alright! It got stolen."

Gordon put the guitar in Te Papa (Tongarewa Museum of New Zealand) for a temporary exhibition and promised it would then be returned to its rightful owner.

Midge is still waiting - with eagerness. "I was pretty excited that it turned up again.

P.P.S. During a visit to Australia this year, Midge called the former mod queen. "I spoke to Dinah recently and she was very pleased to hear from me - she was great."

And as an aside: "She got into body building did you know?"