London: 6th February 2006

This morning I began by visiting the band’s former house. I found the address easily and lingered long enough to take some photographs but I could not raise anyone when I tried the doorbell, so the interior of the house will remain a mystery for now. The area itself is notable for its view into the city and the unusual church which overlooks the street.

Justyn Kupiec it seems, was effectively the acting landlord, which meant that the others had been very lucky in finding a place to live that doubled as a free recording and rehearsal space. The main drawback, I assume, would have been the lack of separation between their home lives and careers, effectively having no ‘break’ from one another; circumstances which can often breed tension.

I ventured back up the (very steep!) hill to Upper Norwood, which is the town nearest the site of the actual Crystal Palace. My first idea was to try enquiring in a local guitar shop, but I was unable to find one. My next tactic was to ask in some of the pubs that advertised live music, and it was in a pub named The Alma that I had my first piece of good luck today.

I met Eric Bellman, a customer who remembered Jimmy Cook occasionally playing songs at ‘open mic’ evenings in several local pubs. Eric was aware that Jimmy was in a signed band, and had been on conversational terms with him. He remembers Jimmy as being affable, but often the worse for wear through drink. He recalled the other band members, though he did not remember speaking to either of them. Eric was surprised to hear of the Black River House case, having simply assumed the trio had moved out of the area.

I thanked Eric and made enquiries in as many other local pubs as I could, but sadly I was unable to jog any more memories. (I must also add that I am far from the most natural private detective in the world, and I soon felt awkward about pestering innocent locals with my enquiries). Still, it has been fairly gratifying to at last find someone unconnected with the case who recalled the band, even if only with vague detail.

I decided to make one final stop at a local independent record shop named Warrior CDs where I had my second stroke of good luck. The shop stocks a few CDs by local or unsigned acts and I managed to dig out a solitary promotional copy of the Secret Method’s shelved demo E.P ‘Spying on a Good Girl’, a quirky, home made production, originally intended for release in mid-1995 for the attention of journalists and promoters.

With a run of just 100 copies, the record was never intended to chart, but here was proof for me that a few copies did drift into public circulation. Bob Longfellow had passed me a copy last year, but I must confess to experiencing a mild thrill in being able to unearth such a rare gem for myself.

Despite being tempted, I decided it would be counter-productive to buy up a record I already owned. I opted, rather, to leave it on the shelves for some other intrepid music collector to find.

Looking ahead to Part Two – ‘On The Road’

Tomorrow will be a big day for the ‘expedition’. I shall set off for the North West, as the band did 10 years ago, to board the overnight ferry which will take me to Ireland. Please visit these pages again tomorrow for my next update.

My Sincere Best Wishes,