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The V.I.P.'s were formed by Jed Dmochowski (guitar, vocals), Guy Morley (guitar), Andrew Price (bass), and Paul Shurey (drums) while attending Warwick University in 1978. Within weeks, the band were gigging at clubs in The Midlands, playing in front of almost no one. However after winning a talent contest at the university, one of the judges, Clive Solomon, became their manager. With the help of Solomon and Timmy Mallet, they self-financed their debut EP Music For Funsters, which earned them a loyal following in London and heavy rotation on John Peel's BBC radio show. Across tracks like "I Believe" and "Boys of The City," the band's clean-cut, overeducated pop look clashed with their primitive, Merseybeat-worship rock 'n' roll that's in the spirit of The Freshies, The Teenbeats, and Pointed Sticks. The band was on their way of becoming Very Important Popstars by recording with former Animals bassist and Jimi Hendrix and Slade manager Chas Chandler and securing a record deal with the RCA-linked GEM Records (Ronnie Lane, U.K. Subs, The Killermeters). There was a new urgency introduced in the band's muscular sound of stacked harmonies, handclapped beats, and punchy guitar leads that had them sharing bills with The Specials, Madness, and Secret Affair. The constant touring, recording, and radio play had earned them a spot on Top of The Pops, but they were suddenly told the day of that an industrial dispute at the BBC had resulted in the show being cancelled. By the end of 1980, The V.I.P.'s were selling in Spain, Germany, Italy and France through GEM, but they seemed to be losing heart with the business. Dmochowski would later face health issues and with the band on pause, tensions grew. They would later play their last concert at Leicester University and their final single Things Aren't What They Used To Be was released 1981. Dmochowski went solo and worked alongside Dan Treacy of Television Personalities, Morley and Shurey would help form Mood Six, and Price would leave the music industry. Decades later, labels like Tangerine Records and Optic Nerve Recordings would issue compilations to introduce a new audience to the band's pure pop perfection. To take a closer look, I chatted with Dmochowski all about the beginnings of The V.I.P.'s, the various shows they played, and his thoughts looking back at the success they endured within a three-year span.
First tell me a little about yourself. Where did you grow up, what were you listening to as a teen, who were some of your musical heroes, and were you in any bands before joining The V.I.P.'s?
Jed Dmochowski: I grew up in a Polish family that had had to settle in the UK after World War II. There were nine of us at home in West London, an extended family, so I have always loved and appreciated being with others. At the same time, from early adolescence, I began to be very creative, writing short stories and making up songs, which meant that I sought time alone to focus on my latest idea. At thirteen my father bought me an electric guitar and small valve amp from a guitar shop I had started visiting nearby. I've still got that guitar, which back in 1971 cost around $30. I had a few lessons, but essentially I taught myself to play—I wanted desperately to write my own songs as well as play those by T. Rex, The Rolling Stones, and all sorts of twelve-bar blues. I formed my first band at school at 16. I never had problems writing new song—even then I wrote a song about Nixon called "Such An Honest Face," which went down well at a summer festival in front of our college. When I was 17 I wrote a song called "I'm Perfect" and it proved very popular locally. Two years later, I moved to Warwick University and the first thing I did was to plug in my Ned Callan guitar into my Marshall amp, and that was the beginning of my studies in English Literature and Philosophy. Because I'd spent my grant on my music gear, I learnt that life without food was difficult. However, I found a notice on a board at the Students' Union saying "Guitarist Needed" and joined The V.I.P.'s with Guy, Andrew, and Paul Shurey.
Take me through the origins of The V.I.P.'s. How did you guys form and what were those earlier years like in the band?
Although I could by then play well on my own it was a different thing being in a band; timing, structure, and graft. But because of Paul's "let's get going" attitude after about three weeks, we started gigging in the Midlands, around Birmingham, Leicester, Coventry, etc. It was the classic experience of turning up at a dive at 8:00 p.m. and waiting until 12.30 a.m. to get on stage, performing to about ten people, and getting back to Warwick at 3:00 a.m.—rock 'n' roll, here we come. Our songs were very punk at first, things like "Victorian Mothers" and "Mr Politician," with about four chords max. In fact in those days of late 1977-78 we named ourselves Max Volume, Tone Control, Mike Stand Jack Lead. But the gigs came thick and fast, and we got tighter and were enjoying the adventure. I started writing more power-beat songs like "I Believe," "Causing Complications," and Guy wrote '"Boys Of The City." We entered a talent contest during late spring 1978 at the university and won. The judges liked our songs and one of them was Clive Solomon who later became our manager and founded Fire Records. The prize was to record a single, so we found WMRS, which was a tiny four-track studio in nearby Leamington Spa. The session was fun—we recorded "I Believe," "Causing Complications," "Boys Of The City," and "I'm Perfect"—we played each song about four times live before everyone was happy. That session became our Music For Funsters EP. We took the photos at Warwick and Paul designed the cover and it was my idea to place the center of the image on the label. Andy sent a copy to John Peel at the BBC and he started to play it straight away on his late night show. It became one of his favorites of the year. We were known!
Did you play any shows revolving Music For Funsters?
We plugged the single on a five-date tour of Scotland that our manager Solly had organized. It sold out its initial pressing very quickly, and more were made. The UK was covered with record shops, venues and bands at the time, and it was seriously good to be part of what was going on. A very favorable review came out in the New Musical Express (NME) the following week. Buoyed on by this excitement we gigged more and more, finding ourselves playing clubs with The Specials, The Killjoys, and many other Coventry/Birmingham bands. Our manager thought it would be worth moving to London to get a "proper" recording deal, and Andrew, Paul and myself quit university, with Guy doing a lot of travelling in his final year. Once we'd based ourselves in Clapham, the gigs and residencies came in thick and fast. Transport was a dirty old Ford Transit, with the band and equipment in the back.
Around that same time, you had also put together the footage for "Causing Complications" video.
Yeah that was made by friends at the film studios at Warwick University. The video has a lovely, gentle and charming feel, and lots of my students in later years even love it. It's funny because the director was Nick Morris, who went on to build himself a great career in making music videos, including Europe's "The Final Countdown."
What else was happening for the band following the Music For Funsters single?
Our fan-base grew and Solly was approached by various record companies. One of them released one of Guy's songs, "Just Can't Let You Go" as the A-side to a two band single with Urban Disturbance on Rok Records. It was not my favorite song, even though by then the studio we used was run by an ex-member of The Glitter Band. We kept working and eventually signed a management deal with Grandmark Management, based in Greenwich, even though at that stage, we were still rehearsing in small studios in Battersea and could, in all honesty, barely afford to feed ourselves. Lunch would often be biscuits and crisps. However, we were signed up in 1979 and they immediately began talks with Gem Records, who had themselves spotted us at Dingwalls in Camden. It was at that time that I wrote the song for our next single The Quarter Moon. I wanted to write a melody that evolved along sensitive lines, and I remember, clearly, going through the chords and building up the sequence of ideas and music; it was a major creative effort—all in my attic bedroom, looking out onto a quarter moon. It's about comforting a traumatized friend. I recorded it onto a cassette tape and played it to Guy a few days later. He liked it and we started work on the band arrangement. None of us were trained musicians, but we knew how a good song should be shaped and sound like. After a brief interlude at Olympic Studios with Chas Chandler—who liked one of my songs ("Thunder Under My Hood") a great deal—Grandmark Management got us a deal with Gem Records a few months later. As well as being thrilled I saw the whole thing as a logical ongoing narrative of progress. At first the studios were bad, then they got better, and in the end we were recording at the very plush Mayfair Studios with the eminent Mike Leander. He was a top professional, and tried to capture our live sound on the record. He was very honest with it. We felt that "The Quarter Moon" could have been a bit fuller, warmer in sound, but the BBC liked it a lot, and it became "Record Of The Week" for Mike Reid's morning show, a show with millions of listeners. It was also released in many European countries, so with that we knew that Gem Records were for real. Rudi Thompson of X-Ray Spex, was invited for The Quarter Moon session and he, Mike and myself worked out how the sax solo should go. Mike Leander was always enthusiastic and positive, and also a gentleman. Great to work with.
What was happening for the band entering the 1980s?
By 1980, we were touring with Madness, Secret Affair, The Beat, Dexys Midnight Runners, and many more. We worked hard and played all the major venues around the country. We saw some incredible shows and did some radio and magazine interviews along with some photo sessions. This was just before video, which would have changed the trajectory of our career. We were booked to play Top Of The Pops, the number one music show in the UK, but a scene-shifters strike meant that it never happened. This was a serious setback, as such sessions were not easy to come by. When the two singles Need Somebody To Love and Things Aren't What They Used To Be didn't do as well in sales, its significance hit home. We played great gig in Paris together with The Chords. In order to somehow categorize us we were also termed a "mod-revival band," because of the power-beat pop we played. But we weren't that into mod as such, more a cross-over of beat and pop-rock. I remember filming a great video there for "Causing Complications" as well to air on French TV, but we never saw it because we had to go back to London. Through the constant touring, and also because of other serious family issues, my health had suffered, (collapsed lung) and I knew I needed a serious break. By 1981 springtime, Andy had decided he had had enough and told us that he was leaving. Andy is a wonderful person, his bass playing added so much energy to our songs and performances. When a song Guy had written was picked as the next single release I decided to leave myself. It just wasn't the kind of music I wanted to work for—much more of a "boy band" thing. I think that that had been the managements idea all along, but I wanted a broader musical landscape to work on.
What was it like embarking on a solo career following the split of the band?
After leaving I recorded my solo LP Stallions Of My Heart on Dan Treacy's (Television Personalities) Whaam! Records. Dan was a lovely, gentle guy into alternative music and approaches. The album got excellent reviews and is still very much a collector's piece, as well as my "Sha La La" solo single. It was joy to record that album in StarForce Studios in Clapham, with my old friend Gary MacManus on bass—he played the bass line of The Specials' "Nelson Mandela."
How did the Optic Nerve compilation come about in 2020?
I was contacted by Ian Allcock at Optic Nerve in early 2019 and it was quite out of the blue. He said that he was interested in re-releasing the original The V.I.P.'s comp Beat Crazy! which had come out on vinyl and CD on Tangerine records. He asked me if I would agree and if I had any ideas as to packaging, any photos, and band history and for the lyrics to all the tracks he would like to include. I was very happy to oblige and suggested we use Paul's artwork for the Need Somebody To Love single. So, we began work on it together. Ian was very respectful of our material—I suggested adding various features to the front cover, he designed the back and the inner sleeve. For photos I remembered that an old friend from Warwick, Steve Rapport, had taken many pictures of us on tour—he now lives in California; I got in touch with him and he had kept and cleaned up many of the negatives, and kindly sent them over online. They were used for the gatefold images, as well as one taken backstage at The Marquee in London after a gig by Nick Morris. I also found a poster advertising one of our earliest gigs at Warwick, again drawn by Paul. The tracks were licensed from Cherry Red Records and the copyright is owned by The V.I.P.'s. There were serious delays in the release date because of the lockdown, but Ian saw it through. I'm very happy with the results, a real treasure-store of priceless memories for me. Quite a few of the songs we'd written and performed live were not included as we didn't manage to record them, including "Memories" and "Thunder Under My Hood."
I've always really liked the song "Janine." What's the story behind that one?
I wrote that walking along some streets by the Thames in Putney, West London. Janine was the name a beautiful blonde model advertising milk on big posters around London and one day I just happened to stand next to her on a metro/tube train—that's how I found out her name. I didn't pluck up the courage to say hello but wrote the ding soon after.
What are your thoughts now looking back at what you accomplished with The V.I.P.'s?
Those were very special times which I am very thankful for. Paul, Guy and Andy became brothers to me—we are (badly), slept (badly) and travelled (precariously) rock 'n' roll. Initially friends' floors, then cheap hotels, and keeping our gear in my family home. Rehearsing and writing together in studios and at home and on tour. To have got so far, so quickly, to have a substantial record deal at the age of 22 and to play some of the biggest venues in the UK, including the Glasgow Apollo, The Hammersmith Odean, The Electric Ballroom (with The B-52's), The Brighton Top Rank, and every five in the UK to get there, was a truly bonding experience. Our manager looked after all the bookings, dates, and recordings as well as radio sessions. We met many of the stars and many other bands, and what everyone had in common was a love of music and performance as well as a great depth of determination. The most difficult thing about the relentless touring was the fatigue—hours in a van on motorways or bus, sound checks, greasy food, then a two or three hour wait for a massive adrenaline rush which lasted around 50 minutes. One very special moment for us was in 1980 when were were in a van crossing the Pennine Hills along an open road in the north of England and "Causing Complications" was played on live BBC Radio 1. The DJ said it was excellent and we were all over the moon. Another was when Mike Read heard the demo of "The Quarter Moon" and said if that's our next single then he'd make it his record of the week. Later that year I was chatting with my grandmother at home when the "The Quarter Moon" came on the radio. From the attack to the dining-room, the song had taken off! However, it's important to say that throughout those days I was not as well as I could have been. Tragically, my sister had died 18 months before I went to Warwick and I was suffering greatly from PTSD, which wasn't a recognized term in those days. I was depressed and anxious and the band gave me a huge focus to pull myself out of a very difficult space; it wasn't an easy journey, and the most significant reason for me leaving the band in 1981. Paul's death five years ago from now was a great shock to us; he had beer unwell for many years but had somehow kept going. Once, in 1980, we had a gig at The Limit Club in Sheffield with Wane County and The Electric Chairs. Paul had been physically sick before we played, but got up to do the gig. It was a phenomenal night. Later we learnt that he had had heart problems. I sang "The Quarter Moon" at his funeral; a heavy but powerful and moment, a great privilege. Guy, Andy and I are still in touch, but not that often. I shared all my song-writing credits with the rest of the band, and do when some money comes in, as it still does. The band we became closest to on the road was Madness. They were a very friendly bunch of people, and the tours were all well-ours with huge audiences. Suggs in particular was very friendly.
Do you still play in bands? If so, what have you been up to lately?
I now write, play with and record for with my band Tranquilizers. With a previous line-up, I recorded the gentle yet somber To Forget An Actor album on Polling Station Productions / Cherry Red Records in 2012. In 2009, I released the song "Good Morning Day" because it just worked like an old V.I.P.'s pop song and I thought it was too good to leave unrecorded. My songwriting has moved on now and the songs are now more energetic and different in structure, although our last two singles, "Tokyo" and "Take Back Your Freedom," are fairly standard in form.
