Sixty years ago, Andrew Crisp made his debut in the local press with a report in the Oxford Mail of his success, aged 13, in a model engineering exhibition in London. A fading cutting in our library at Newspaper House reports that a prize of a guinea (an absurd pre-decimal sum not reflected by then — indeed not since 1813 — in the existence of any such coin) had gone to the son of Chief Inspector John Crisp, of Iffley Road, after “his jet reached the fastest speed”.

Over the years that clipping was joined by others in a fattening file bearing testament to the variety of Andrew’s interests. Many concern his success with model gliders, an enthusiasm that brought my first meeting with him when I interviewed him on Port Meadow in May 1976 about competing in the European Championships.

Some reports touch on environmental matters, Andrew having been forthright in his belief that our open spaces — and especially the aforementioned meadow — must remain untouched by progress. A number concern local wildlife and the state of our rivers and canal. A resident of Summertown, he has, for many years, been the secretary and treasurer of the North Oxford Angling Society.

References to his work as an art teacher, first at Magdalen College School (1969-76) and later Oxford High School for Girls, are made only in passing. There is no mention at all, as far as I can see, of his enthusiasm for jazz and of his sterling service as a drummer on the local jazz scene.

Surprisingly, until today, nothing has been reported of a link that arises from this with some of the rock giants of our time. I refer to The Rolling Stones.

Some time ago, I invited memories of the band in an article commemorating the 50th anniversary of their appearance at Magdalen College’s summer ball in June 1964. More recently, a similar appeal was made in our letters column by a writer, Richard Houghton, who is planning a new book on the Stones.

Responding to us both, Andrew has set out his recollections so lucidly that I feel no inclination to do other than quote (with some paraphrasing) from the letter he has sent us. Its delivery followed discussions between us on the subject — and other topics of mutual interest — at recent meetings on the banks of the River Thames and the Oxford Canal, where he was fishing and I was cycling.

Andrew offers “Stones Stories, 1, 2 and 3” in an elegant italic script, of which more presently.

He writes: “Traditionally, at New Year in Oxford Town Hall there was a large public dance. In 1964 the Stones were to be top of the bill. They were on last, and opening the proceedings was my brother Rodney’s band, The Falling Leaves. The drummer with the Leaves had had rather too much to drink the day before, so, being a drummer, I was asked to step in. No matter that I was a trad jazz musician, I managed to make a fair fist of the blues numbers.

“With all the bands that were on, there was much confusion on the stage with amplifiers, speakers etc all over the stage. I asked Charlie Watts if I might move his kit so that I had space to set up my meagre equipment. ‘Don’t bother,’ he said, ‘use mine.’ So I played on Charlie Watts’s Gretsch kit.

“It is interesting to note that, Mick Jagger apart, the Stones carried their stuff from the bandwaggon up the Town Hall steps and set it all up. In true fashion, however, Mick made an ‘entrance’, forcing his way through screaming female admirers.”

Oxford Mail:
A ticket to The Stones’ Oxford show in January 1964

Story 2: “I went to art college in Cheltenham in 1961. We students used to frequent a cafe called the Black Tulip. It had a pinboard and on it was a notice asking for musicians to form an R&B band. I was interested in the blues stuff (Howlin’ Wolf, Muddy Waters etc) coming into England at the time, so I wrote to the name on the notice, a certain Brian Jones. He kindly replied, thanking me for my interest but was wanting to go fully ‘pro’ which I obviously couldn’t do, being in the first year of my art course.

“Fast forward to the Town Hall gig. I talked to Brian Jones about his Cheltenham notice. ‘I remember,’ he said. ‘You’re the guy with the italic handwriting.’”

Stones Story 3: “One of the great names in Old Style Jazz in the 1950s and 60s was Ken Colyer. He had a club called Studio 51 in London’s West End. As well as regular evening jazz sessions, they had R&B on Sunday afternoons. The Stones were usually featured. This would be, I guess, 1961 or 1962.

“At the time I was trying to learn to play the harmonica — ‘the harp’ — but not making much headway. I just could not make that whining, bending sound that greats of the instrument made. So, in the interval of a Sunday afternoon Stones session, I asked the singer and harp player, whose name wasn’t really known then, for some tips.

“Mick invited me into the rudimentary dressing room and we sat down and traded harmonica licks. And that is how I learned to play the harp thanks to M.J. It just shows what genuine fellows the Stones were/are, away from their glamorous and sometimes controversial facade.”