Lyndon Nutkins: vocals, bass
Martin Mays: vocals, guitar
Richie Symons: guitar (2016-2018)
Beth Daltrey: vocals (2017-2018)
Zak Ballinger: drums (2016-2018)
Tony Peacher (Sticksy): drums (2018-9)
I had always wanted to be in a band that was “The” something!
Following some exceedingly fun sessions in Martin’s loft, where Richie, Martin and I ran through some of the old Idiopathy numbers for old times’ sake, we started introducing Martin’s new material, which was politically charged, musically heavier and above all, plentiful. After a few weeks playing drums for fun – I knew my way around the kit but just lacked experience – I reverted back to bass, and we immediately set about finding a new drummer.
Enter Zak Ballinger, whose hard-working ethic, professionalism and technical skill belied his tender years. He was a good 20 years younger than Martin and I, but with broad musical knowledge, and had played in a number of local bands, notably Mike Smith’s seminal Greenleaf56. Zak was adept at all kinds of styles, which complemented the diverse range of musical genres present in Martin’s songwriting.
Shortly afterwards, we recruited Beth Daltrey into the band. Beth went back years with us – she had jammed with us a good ten or fifteen years earlier and at the time of writing, is enjoying great success in The Ondines. Beth, again, is one of the most passionate and committed singers it has been my pleasure to work with, and before long we were reassembling once-again the three-part wall of vocal harmony that had served us so well over our musical career.
We quickly came to the attention of drummer and promoter Stephen Morris (Mole), who played regularly on the circuit around the Dengie Peninsula in mid-Essex. He had great faith in us, and over the course of a summer he booked us as support and headline on some great pub and festival gigs, where we tailored the set to include some crowd-pleasing covers and earned some good money.
Later we decided to record a demo, which remains unreleased, at Southend’s popular Maple Studios, where we were rehearsing at the time. Zak put down the drum tracks for four or five songs over a busy weekend, with his wife about to go into labour with their first son, but his family commitments naturally had to take priority, and he decided to bow out, although he still gigs occasionally.
Some time passed. Martin and I had found ourselves needing to find a new flat, and found a new place where the neighbours upstairs were problematic, to say the least. They kept us up most nights for two years with their raucous antics, and dealing with all this sapped our energy somewhat.
But we kept rehearsing, and brought an old friend, Sticksy – who had also played with Bushfire – into the band. Sticks was a seasoned veteran of the gigging scene, with an excellent ear for musical arrangement, and he helped us immensely in shaping the songs, both musically and vocally. He re‑energised us. And uniquely, in all the time I have played in bands, he was the one musician I have worked with who brought his own kettle to rehearsals, keeping the mood light with his terrific sense of humour and plentiful supply of tea and biscuits!
Martin was writing some of the best material of his life, and this, combined with Tony’s drumming, meant that my bass playing really flourished. I also started putting my guitar effects through an iPad and wrote my first original composition in nearly ten years.
Richie decided to leave once again to concentrate on his new metal project Designs Of Chaos, leaving us as we had started with Lincoln twenty years earlier – a tight power trio. This final incarnation of the 99 played a handful of gigs until Tony was taken ill and announced that he would need to take some time away.
And sadly, that is where this particular musical journey ended. Within a few months the Covid era was upon us. I became ill myself, and the musical momentum simply dropped away.
Music remains a part of what I do. I haven’t performed recently, and throat surgery cruelly robbed me of the highest bit of my vocal range. But I’ve created several music promos where my musical experience has been a real asset—fine‑tuning audio and matching visuals to the rhythm. The results have gone down well and have attracted attention from musicians with serious industry influence. It feels like the start of something promising. Richie, too, has turned his attentions from live gigging to filming promos and gigs.
Do I miss the old days? Yes, but I don’t miss lugging amps around. I don’t miss waiting backstage for hours for other bands to finish. I don’t miss getting in at 2am, unable to sleep because I’m still wired from playing gigs. It’s a young person’s game!