Jook

One of the earliest groups propelled into the British spotlight amid the initial frenzy of the glam rock surge, the Jook also ranked among the era’s most unfortunate victims of fan rigidity. Their most significant qualities only emerged clearly in retrospect: they shaped the tartan outfits later adopted by the Bay City Rollers, they anticipated the power pop wave that followed, and their taut, guitar-led intensity would not gain wider traction until punk arrived. At the moment, however, they registered merely as another set of aspirants issuing single after single in search of a breakthrough, becoming, in guitarist Trevor White’s words, increasingly frantic with each attempt. “Our music was getting so contrived that at one point, we were listening to whatever was the number one single that week, to see what it had got, apart from success, that we hadn’t. Then we’d borrow it. Integrity just went out of the window. We’d hear something and say, ‘that’s it, that’s what we should be sounding like.’” Remarkably, little trace of that calculation remains audible today. The Jook issued five singles, every one now acknowledged as a classic.

John Hewlett, the former bassist of the 1960s psychedelic outfit John’s Children who had moved into management by the early 1970s, first assembled the pieces. Hewlett brought guitarist Trevor White, previously of the A-Jaes (once viewed as Britain’s counterpart to the Beach Boys), together with singer-songwriter Ian Kimmett, then employed at a London music publisher. Following the prevailing impulse, the pair relocated to Jedburgh, Scotland, to “get their heads together in the country,” where they met bassist Ian Hampton. Returning to London, they recruited drummer Chris Townson, another veteran of John’s Children. Hewlett supplied the group’s name, drawn from Gene Chandler’s “Duke of Earl.”

RCA signed the Jook and introduced them in summer 1972. The label immediately promoted them as the new John’s Children, hoping Marc Bolan’s concurrent stardom would lift the newcomers similarly. It did not. Their debut single, “It’s All Right With Me,” appeared that summer; over the ensuing two years they delivered four additional 45s: a version of Gallagher & Lyle’s “City and Suburban Blues” backed by a fierce reading of “Shame Shame Shame,” the exuberant and self-celebrating “Oo Oo Rudie,” “King Kapp,” and finally “Bish Bash Bosh.” None reached the charts. The members later stated that the tracks they valued most were those made without commercial calculation and relegated to B-sides or left unreleased, including “Shame Shame Shame” (captured in rehearsal), “Rumble” (a Trevor White riff developed with pianist Pete Wingfield), and “Crazy Kids” (a proto-punk outburst placed on the flip of their last single). Additional material was recorded for an album that remains unissued. Even a 1974 publishing agreement with producer Mickie Most failed to shift their fortunes.

Live, the Jook drew substantial crowds, holding a monthly residency at London’s Edmonton Sundown that attracted a committed skinhead following drawn to their braces, boots, and cropped hair. Comparisons to Slade, beyond the Bolan link, did not trouble them. Townson was more unsettled in early 1974 when he saw the Bay City Rollers on television wearing a similar style; weeks earlier the Jook had performed in Scotland and received compliments on their look from the local band.

The group persisted another six months before dissolving once Hewlett steered White and Hampton into Sparks, replacing bassist Martin Gordon. Gordon subsequently formed Jet with drummer Townson and yet another ex-member of John’s Children, vocalist Andy Ellison.

Two further Jook releases appeared later. After leaving Sparks in 1976, White issued a solo single on Island that revived “Crazy Kids” and paired it with the previously unheard “Moving in the Right Direction.” In 1978 Chiswick released a four-track EP drawn from the band’s final session; one song, “Aggravation Place,” later surfaced on the Bomp compilation The Roots of Power Pop.