Katch5 Memories Poem by John Carter Brown

A little shop, upon a busy road it used to stand,
we used it for rehearsals when we were in a band;
Young we were and very keen to get up on a stage,
music was the driving force, and it was all the rage.

The shop belonged to Denis and his father, Seth by name,
Seth could sell you anything, he was in the selling game;
'Just a little over, is that OK? ' he would say,
you had to love the man's technique and let him have his way.

But back to making music and the boys within the shop,
the back-room full of veggies from the floor to ceiling top;
We called ourselves Katch5, and round the local clubs we played,
once on a bill with Ken Dodd, and we thought we'd made the grade.

Weekly we would learn new songs, 'we'd' play, and Steve would sing,
I would do the harmony, and Den' his bass he'd bring;
Tony played the rhythm - with his volume very low,
we tried to get him singing but he didn't want to know.

It was a great adventure and the five of us could tell
that we were much improving, and the sound starting to gell;
The fly inside the ointment was another lad named Steve,
a very temperamental sort, and pretty soon he'd leave

We got another drummer, a young lad, his name was Mike,
he was as keen as mustard, and an easy boy to like;
We lasted for about two years before things fell away,
things simply ran their natural course, and that was just the way.

The little shop has gone now, no people there arrive
long gone are those rehearsals and, sad to say, Katch5.

(Written Dec 2021)