Shuffling to the mighty Prince Buster's "Dark Destroyer" (I am nearly 58 years old) The Social - Trojan Records Official Club Night / Barrie Sharpe - with Reggae impresario Mistah Brown Selector...

Here is a little story (from my book - "This Was Not Part Of The Masterplan") "Al Capone, Guns Don’t Argue” (Perry Summers - 1st Cousin) I first met Barrie around the age of twelve at Redbridge Youth Club; I used to go there to do the things that most twelve year old boys did, play football, table tennis, do a bit of drama, drink too much coca-cola and of course look at fourteen year old girls. I fell in with a small group of boys comprising of a big kid named Sammy Imber, Gary Davis, a ginger haired boy called Michael Waterman and last but far from least Barrie Sharpe. Our little crew thought we were the "doggy’s bollocks," roaming around the youth club like we owned it. I soon discovered that Barrie was a relation of mine; my Papa (Grandfather) Joseph Sharpe was the brother of Barrie's Papa Dave. I remember Dave as being a bit “Jack The Lad”, always at my grandparents’ flat in Broadway Market, Hackney. He was the one that would encourage my Papa Joe to indulge in the finer things in life such as betting on the gee gees and bunging a few bob on the dogs at Hackney Wick; God only knows what other activities they indulged in. Dave was a larger than life "Arthur Daley" type character, whereas Papa Joe was a quiet timid man. It became apparent that Barrie and I had very similar interests; clothes and style were very important to us. It was the early 70s but neither of us were into flares or tie-dye t-shirts, we were still post skinhead rude-boy suede-head types. We both had a passion for tonic trousers, loafer's and Ben Sherman or Brutus shirts. Another love for both of us was music; it had to be Ska, Reggae, James Brown; anything funky.The main event of our week would be the Saturday night youth club disco. Everyone would dance but there was no one that could move like Sharpie. There would always be a circle of kids around him watching and pathetically trying to copy him; but no one even came close, not even me. The highlight of the night was when they played “Al Capone” by the legendary Prince Buster. Barrie would do the “Shuffle” looking a bit like Muhammad Ali with a skipping rope; it was a spectacular sight. His piece de resistance would be producing a clean white handkerchief from his trouser pocket which he would throw on the dance floor, shuffle around it for a few seconds and then in one athletic move he would dive down, pick up the hanky with his teeth and spring back up to his feet resuming the dance, it would blow everyone's mind, I have no idea where he learnt this stuff. I often wonder how many young boys suffered broken noses trying that move at home in front of the mirror longing to be able to move like Barrie. He was like a black kid living in a white kid's body. Barrie embraced this. His dancing ability did cause us problems in many places over the following years: at The Lacy Lady, The Epping Forest Country Club and Ilford Palais, where we were now “Faces”. He would love to wind up some of the black kids, although they were great dancers he was always better. I could never dance like him but because of his antics I sure learnt how to have a ruck. I remember the two of us being chased down the fire escape at The Room at the Top in Ilford, our regular Tuesday night haunt, by a gang of angry teenagers; how we got away I will never know. We then progressed; our clubbing habits took us uptown to Crackers in Wardour Street, Colombo’s in Carnaby Street and Countdown in Wells Street. We then moved it up a notch: Legends and the famous Embassy Club, both in Mayfair, where we would have to hang around outside waiting for some posh totty to sign us in as their guests. In these places, as in all the previous clubs, Barrie soon became one of the ace faces and the man to hang with. Many years have passed and we still see each other from time to time, normally on a Saturday, when I get a job to Portobello Road (I am a black cab driver) I see Barrie hanging around and we will always have a quick chat. Our opening line is always, “You dance with skinny and I’ll dance with fatty”, we both laugh like young boys. I will tell him how my 21 year old son Zack is a really fantastic dancer, Barrie will always reply "Yeah but he is still not as good as me"; I guess he’s right...

Video shot by Phoebe Thorne

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