The forerunner to Gags, Pig’s Trotters, packed a lot into its four-year life span.

Essentially a folk outfit at the outset, various member would turn out at folk clubs across West Yorkshire with a combination of guitars, fiddle, tin-whistle – and spoons. John Kelly and yet another fellow schoolmate, Patrick Rafferty, formed the bedrock, knocking out classics like My Brother Sylvest and Button Up Your Overcoat until eventually joined by Gerry.

Pre-van days (they weren’t old enough to drive) Gerry remembers clambering onto the back of John’s Honda 50 Super Sports motorbike for one gig, grimly clinging to two guitar cases for the thirty-mile round trip from Leeds to Harrogate and back.

One bonus for all the hours spent learning The Dubliners’ back catalogue was that it provided a ready-made formula for busking. ‘Most half-terms and holidays we’d hitchhike to London and play tourist spots for money,’ says John. ‘Most people paid us to go away.’

Brendan admits he was never up for the folk stuff. ‘I had a couple of tries at it, but it was far from successful. At one club we were going down so badly I asked the audience if they’d like to hear a sea shanty. That calmed them down a little until we launched into Procol Harum’s Salty Dog. We weren’t invited back.’

The ‘Judas’ Moment

Pigs Trotters were deemed to have ‘gone electric’ when they acquired drums for the first time, supporting Richard and Linda Thompson at St Michael’s College. Kruge Murphy (actually John’s uncle although only a few years older than him) was the first man behind the kit. ‘Kruge’s contribution was immense,’ says John. ‘We were kids really, but Kruge sorted out essentials such as transport, PA and rehearsal space as if he was born to it.’

Brendan now formally joined on keyboards (on condition that the band invested £150 in an electric Instapiano for him) and the band took off in a new musical direction.

‘It’s hard to recall how, or even why, we were into prog at that point,’ says Brendan. ‘We could go at it for hours – and we often did.’

John Kelly was by now writing lyrics with Gerry and Brendan weighing in with melodies to be endlessly teased and tortured. John was also called upon to deliver vocals to his own compositions. ‘It was as if Bren refused to sing my hippy nonsense,’ says John. ‘I’d protest, pointing out that playing bass and singing at the same time was difficult. They’d just tut and say Paul McCartney managed it well enough.’

Many of those self-penned tracks featured in early sessions at Radio Leeds and at a recording session for Muff Winwood at Island Records. ‘God knows where that tape is now,’ says John. ‘But I know we did When The Pennies Start Rolling, Seagull Song and I’m Worried.’ John recalls their other stock in trade numbers from that era included Amazon Damson, Boar’s Head Blues, Everyone’s Invited, Faces In The Dark, No More Bridges and The Loaf. ‘We were prolific,’ he jokes, 'although maybe a bit more quality control wouldn’t have gone amiss.’

A succession of high-profile gigs rapidly followed. ‘The Harrogate band, Wally, helped us get some shows in London, and that in turn led to a number of College gigs,’ says Gerry. ‘One memorable night we supported Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee at Oxford Town Hall before heading over to St John’s College to headline their annual ball at 3am. We didn’t think twice about it back then. It just seemed the natural thing to be doing.’

The poster featured here for the St John’s Ball, Oxford, is by Chris Sadler. The model for the pig handler is actually John Kelly!