A central part of the King Mojo project is the collection and preservation of first-hand memories from those who experienced the club first-hand. While photographs, posters and press coverage help tell part of the story, it is personal recollections that truly capture what King Mojo meant to the people who went there. We are actively encouraging former punters, musicians, staff and anyone with a connection to the venue to share their memories, stories and reflections. These accounts will help build a richer, more human record of King Mojo’s place in Sheffield’s cultural history and ensure that lived experiences are not lost with time. Memories can be sent directly to the project by email and will form a vital part of the archive, exhibition and wider legacy of the project. Click here to email.
Introduction
Teenagers growing up in Sheffield and Britain during the 1950s and 1960s had the privilege of experiencing two of the most exciting revolutions in popular music.
For many families, television was not yet part of everyday life. Music and entertainment in the home came principally from the BBC Light Programme on the radio and 78 rpm records played on the family radiogram. Sheffield’s theatres brought big-name performers to the city, while the emergence of Working Men’s Clubs provided opportunities for local talent to perform.
For teenagers in the mid-to-late 1950s, the first musical revolution was already under way. Skiffle led the way, with its homemade combination of washboards, tea-chest drums and acoustic guitars. It was soon followed by the explosive arrival of Rock ‘n’ Roll from the United States.
The British teenager was rapidly becoming the focus of the music industry. Records were becoming increasingly popular, helped by the introduction of the 7-inch, 45 rpm single, a format ideally suited to the jukeboxes appearing in coffee bars, pubs and clubs.
Beat groups began forming in back bedrooms, youth clubs and school halls. All of this helped lead to the second great pop revolution in 1963, when groups such as The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and The Kinks emerged. Meanwhile, established performers such as Cliff Richard and The Shadows, Marty Wilde and Billy Fury gradually began to fade from the pop charts.
The latest records in the charts could be heard late on Sunday evenings on Radio Luxembourg, with the familiar voice of DJ B.A. – Barry Alldis.
Radio Luxembourg and, later, the offshore pirate radio stations also played many American records. They introduced British teenagers to original versions of the Blues, R&B and Soul songs that British groups were beginning to popularise, take into the charts and record on their latest LPs.
Among those original versions were:
The Contours – “Do You Love Me”
The Isley Brothers – “Twist and Shout”
Barrett Strong – “Money (That’s What I Want)”
The Marvelettes – “Please Mr. Postman”
Arthur Alexander – “Anna (Go to Him)” and “You’d Better Move On”
Jackie DeShannon – “Needles and Pins”
The Drifters – “Sweets for My Sweet”
Doris Troy – “Just One Look”
Jerry Butler – “Make It Easy on Yourself”
Lou Johnson – “(There’s) Always Something There to Remind Me”
The latest records appearing in the singles charts could be purchased in Sheffield city centre record shops for the princely sum of 6/3d, from outlets such as Cann’s (The Music Man), Wilson Peck and Violet May.
For young teenagers in Sheffield, local youth clubs and the occasional visit to the Saturday Club at the Locarno Ballroom were among the few places where they could satisfy their desire for music and dancing.
Television Changes Everything
As television sets began to find their way into more homes, they brought popular music shows such as Six-Five Special, Oh Boy!, Thank Your Lucky Stars and Juke Box Jury into the living room.
Then, on Friday 9 August 1963, an Associated-Rediffusion television programme was broadcast for the first time. It set a new standard in television presentation and popularised new sounds that influenced musicians and generations of teenagers.
That programme was Ready Steady Go!
With its famous slogan, “The weekend starts here!”, Ready Steady Go! was broadcast on Fridays from 6 to 7 pm. Its initial theme tune was “Wipe Out” by The Surfaris, but this was soon replaced by Manfred Mann’s classic “5-4-3-2-1”. Other songs subsequently associated with the programme included The Who’s “My Generation”, The Animals’ “I’m Crying” and Wilson Pickett’s “Land of a Thousand Dances”.
The programme looked very different from the polished music shows that would follow. The studios were compact and the television cameras were large, with rotating lens turrets. There was no way to hide them, so instead they became part of the action.
The main presenters were Keith Fordyce and Cathy McGowan, who were occasionally joined by David Gell and Michael Aldred.
The show became particularly popular with the Mod youth subculture of the 1960s. Cathy McGowan appeared to be completely in tune with the movement and, through her fashion sense and connection with the audience, became known as the “Queen of the Mods”.
The producers selected the studio audience from the London club scene, choosing some of the best and most fashionably dressed dancers.
For a teenager watching from Sheffield, it was an exciting glimpse into another world.
This did it for me. Where could I go to be part of this scene?
Discovering the King Mojo
In 1965, I was at secondary school and started asking friends and neighbours where such a place existed in Sheffield.
I soon became aware of The King Mojo Club, which I visited for the first time in January 1965.
Although it is now more than 60 years since the club closed, my memories of The King Mojo Club in Sheffield remain remarkably fresh.
After other ventures in the city, Peter Stringfellow and his brother Geoff opened the doors of the Mojo Club at 555 Pitsmoor Road, Sheffield, in 1964.
The building had previously been Deys School of Ballroom Dancing and benefited from a beautiful sprung dance floor. The club’s name was derived from the Muddy Waters blues standard “Got My Mojo Working”, popularised in 1957.
The club was open on Thursday and Friday nights for records only. Saturday was the night for live Soul bands, which soon expanded to include all-nighters, with big-name American Soul artists making appearances.
As the club became more popular, another records-only night was introduced on Tuesdays. Sunday nights were devoted to British talent from the Mod, Soul and R&B circuit.
Discovering the King Mojo
In 1965, I was at secondary school and started asking friends and neighbours where such a place existed in Sheffield.
I soon became aware of The King Mojo Club, which I visited for the first time in January 1965.
Although it is now more than 60 years since the club closed, my memories of The King Mojo Club in Sheffield remain remarkably fresh.
After other ventures in the city, Peter Stringfellow and his brother Geoff opened the doors of the Mojo Club at 555 Pitsmoor Road, Sheffield, in 1964.
The building had previously been Deys School of Ballroom Dancing and benefited from a beautiful sprung dance floor. The club’s name was derived from the Muddy Waters blues standard “Got My Mojo Working”, popularised in 1957.
The club was open on Thursday and Friday nights for records only. Saturday was the night for live Soul bands, which soon expanded to include all-nighters, with big-name American Soul artists making appearances.
As the club became more popular, another records-only night was introduced on Tuesdays. Sunday nights were devoted to British talent from the Mod, Soul and R&B circuit.
Inside the Mojo
The club itself was quite small.
The record players were positioned on the left-hand side of a stage that wasn’t very large. No alcohol was sold.
The décor on the walls changed regularly. At first, there were images of African warriors. These were replaced by Pop Art, followed by gangsters and, eventually, flower-power paintings.
The music was the real attraction.
Motown and Soul, Blue Beat, Ska and danceable records from the charts were all part of the Mojo sound.
The first record played when I went to the club for the first time, on a Thursday record night, was The Hollies – “I Can’t Let Go”.
Peter Stringfellow was the main DJ, assisted in the early evening by local DJs, most notably Arthur Clover, Stuart Dawson and Dave Growns, better known as Art, Dinky and Dave.
Peter Stringfellow would enter the club from the back of the dance hall and walk down through the crowd to the record players on the left-hand side of the stage. He always carried several LPs under his arm – his latest purchases and Mojo crowd-pleasers – which he would use to build that night’s playlist.
Peter knew his music.
He bought records from Sheffield record shops, mainly Wilson Peck, every Thursday. He also played many American imports supplied by a gentleman called Mike Ward, who obtained them in the United States and brought them over to Sheffield.
The Sound of Motown and Soul
What we now know as Tamla Motown had a complicated introduction to the British market. It was distributed in the UK through a number of record labels before eventually establishing its own dedicated presence under the Tamla Motown name.
Dave Godin, the British founder of the Tamla Motown Appreciation Society, played an important role in promoting the music and helping to establish Motown’s enormous following in Britain.
Ska was another important part of the Mojo sound. Originating in the West Indies in the late 1950s, it combined Caribbean influences such as calypso with American jazz and Rhythm & Blues.
Ska became extremely popular at the King Mojo, particularly among both the West Indian community and young Mods.
Records from the British charts were also played, particularly those by Mod bands. The records were selected according to their appeal to the crowd – whether people could dance to the rhythm and, sometimes, whether the artist was due to appear at the club in the following weeks.
At almost every event there was a “soft spot”, when three slow and soulful ballads would usually be played in succession. This gave the dancing crowd an opportunity to become a little more intimate.
On one occasion, a record was selected in the hope that it might become the club’s theme song. The winner, following a show of hands, was The Drifters – “At the Club”.
Down at the club – everything is out of sight
Down at the club – we’re gonna say that it’s alright…
And it most certainly was.
The Beautiful Mojo
In the early months of 1967, we became aware of the growing “flower power” movement taking place in San Francisco.
This brought about a change at the King Mojo.
The club became known as the Beautiful Mojo Club, with the interior redecorated using flower-power images and psychedelic music being introduced.
Unfortunately, not everyone followed this new “Hippy” concept.
Of all the great music played at the King Mojo, Soul and Tamla Motown remained the most popular. It provided what was, for many of us, the best dance music of the 1960s and helped create the fantastic atmosphere inside the club.
Dancing to the music was expected. If the crowd wasn’t responding, Pete Stringfellow might play some of the rubbish that was in the charts – or something completely unexpected, such as the 1812 Overture.
If you were confident enough, you were more than welcome to dance on the stage.
Most of the Soul records played at the King Mojo went on to become classics. Records released on labels such as Stax, Atlantic and Tamla Motown influenced record producers and artists and continue to be played today in the Northern Soul clubs that subsequently emerged.
More Than Just the Music
The King Mojo wasn’t just about the music.
What you wore was almost as important, dictated by the Mod scene of the time:
Mohair suits. Levi’s. Fred Perry shirts.
Ready Steady Go! was still being shown on television, and Peter Stringfellow arranged to travel to London to meet Vicki Wickham, one of the programme’s producers.
As a consequence, he was given the role of warming up the studio audience before the programme went on air. He also controlled the dancing, making sure that he was caught on camera whenever possible.
Peter Stringfellow later recalled:
“I started to make a name for myself in London through my job as warm-up presenter on the Ready Steady Go programme and I’d regularly visit record shops and key clubs like Wardour Street’s renowned Flamingo to search out music and bands to play at my own venue back in Sheffield.”
Peter worked on the show for about a year, travelling down to London on Thursdays for the pre-recording.
He would offer King Mojo regulars tickets for the programme, although not many were able to take up the opportunity because of travel costs and commitments to work or study.
King Mojo: North versus South
Peter and the King Mojo Club received even more exposure on Ready Steady Go! when Peter was asked to present the King Mojo in a “North versus South” club and dance competition against a London club, believed to have been The Scene Club.
The Scene was, at that time, an important source of the programme’s audience and its go-go dancer, Sandi Sargeant.
Peter took as many people down to London from Sheffield as he could and presented everything that was great about the King Mojo – the people and the music.
He ran through a King Mojo Top 10 for the time and brought to the attention of a national television audience the tremendous voice of Wilson Pickett singing “In the Midnight Hour”.
Unfortunately, following a viewers’ vote, the Southern club won the day.
A Call to Destiny
The Mojo Club was fantastic.
For me, and for many other Sheffield teenagers, it became a call to destiny. We handed over our hard-earned pocket money and paper-round wages, and, in return, Peter Stringfellow gave us a sense of belonging.
We belonged to a special crowd of people defined by music, dress and a culture that was unquestionably “where it’s at”.
But being situated in a suburban area came at a price. Complaints from local residents were made to the authorities.
The all-night sessions were eventually replaced by all-day Sunday sessions. The very last all-day session featured Little Stevie Wonder on 8 October 1967.
The final official night of the club was a records-only session held on Tuesday 10 October 1967, and the club was packed.
Members of The Alan Bown Set were there that night and presented Pete Stringfellow with a cheque.
As with the record nights, all-nighters and all-dayers that had gone before, the very last record played at the King Mojo was:
The Artistics – “I’m Gonna Miss You”.
After the Mojo
Following the closure of the King Mojo, Peter Stringfellow quickly moved on, arranging Soul nights and festivals at Sheffield City Hall and promoting “Help Save the King Mojo” events.
Sadly, these efforts were to no avail.
However, Peter was soon back on the Sheffield club scene with his own Down Broadway Club on Sheffield’s High Street.
It was a much smaller club, with no alcohol licence, and it lacked the atmosphere of the King Mojo. Peter subsequently moved on to open the Penthouse Club on Dixon Lane, Sheffield.
After the King Mojo closed, the building was briefly converted into a bingo club before eventually being demolished in the 1980s to make way for housing.
The Legacy of the King Mojo
Despite its relatively short lifespan, the King Mojo Club became renowned for hosting major acts, sometimes very early in their careers.
Artists associated with the club included Rod Stewart, Elton John, Jimi Hendrix, Stevie Wonder, The Small Faces and The Who.
More importantly, the club helped provide part of the foundation for what would later become known as the Northern Soul scene in Britain – a term associated with the aforementioned Dave Godin.
For those of us who were there, however, the King Mojo was about more than the eventual historical significance.
It was about the music.
It was about dancing.
It was about the clothes, the records, the people and the excitement of discovering something new.
It was about walking through the doors at 555 Pitsmoor Road and knowing that, for a few hours, you were part of something special.
More than 60 years later, those memories remain.
The King Mojo Club was, quite simply, part of the soundtrack of our lives.
Before it became widely known as King Mojo, the venue was simply the Mojo – the name used by the people who were there at the time remember John. The ‘King’ moniker and crown logo only came later, as the club began to change towards the end of its life.
For John Newsam, the Mojo was about more than just music – it was about staying ahead of the curve.
“I remember me and friends going to London to buy the latest clothes from Carnaby Street to wear at the Mojo. Fashion changed almost weekly, so we wanted the trendiest outfits. We also went to clubs in London, mostly The Flamingo on Wardour Street, to learn the latest dance trends that we could bring back to the Mojo.”
The club itself offered something you simply couldn’t find elsewhere in Sheffield.
“People kept going because of the latest music – black American RnB and imports. It was the only place locally to hear that type of music. Plus, you got to see people wearing the latest fashion.”
At its peak, the atmosphere was electric.
“At its best it was trendsetting and vibrant – and everyone knew everyone.”
John usually went with a close-knit group of friends.
“I went with a crowd of male friends. Everyone was friendly and knew everyone.”
The sound of the Mojo was just as distinctive as the crowd.
“Black American RnB music and Motown. The stage was small and packed with instruments – saxophones, organ, guitars – leaving hardly any room for the singers.”
One of the standout memories was being part of the famous Ready Steady Go! trip.
“When I went to Ready Steady Go! we got a badge with Sheffield on it. I can’t remember the singers – I was too busy trying to get behind them so I’d be on camera. I went to a friend’s house the next day to watch it on ATV and saw myself a few times – dancing and watching the singers. I’ve always wondered if there’s a copy of that recording somewhere.”
There were also unforgettable live moments at the Mojo itself.
“I remember seeing Jimi Hendrix playing guitar with his teeth and thinking it was a stupid gimmick – not the usual Mojo music. But I was impressed seeing Stevie Wonder – I was right next to the stage, looking at his closed eyes up close.”
John also had a clear view of how the club was run.
“Pete Stringfellow was successful and knew exactly what us youngsters liked music-wise. He kept to his own clique and had no idea who most of the crowd were.”
As the 1960s moved on, the Mojo began to change.
“Towards the end it got a bit flower power. The crowd was getting younger – and I was getting older.”
Despite that, its importance never faded.
“The Mojo was a big part of my life for around three years.”
And for John, being a Mod was about more than the stereotype.
“I was a Mod and never had a scooter – neither did my friends. Being a Mod was about fashion and music. We had cars – we needed them to drive to London, and we also went to the Twisted Wheel in Manchester.”
For Des Pejko, the Mojo opened the door to a new world of music.
Growing up in Rotherham, he was introduced to soul music by older boys at school who shared records by The Impressions and Curtis Mayfield. Before long, he was making regular trips to Sheffield to experience the Mojo for himself.
“They showed me some albums from The Impressions and Curtis Mayfield. I loved it. They said, ‘Come with us,’ and that’s how I got into it.”
Getting there usually involved a bus journey from Rotherham, although occasionally he travelled on the back of a scooter.
“I was six foot four at 14 or 15, so it wasn’t the most comfortable ride, but I enjoyed it.”
Des remembers the club as warm, crowded and full of energy.
“It was hot, lively and the music was excellent. There were people dancing near the stage and people all around the edges.”
Unlike later years, he recalls the club being relatively plain inside.
“It was quite dark and simple. There was nothing fancy about it, but that didn’t matter.”
The Mojo quickly became a place where music, fashion and friendships came together.
“You could talk about records, where somebody got their Levi’s from, or where they bought a jacket. It was that type of environment.”
The soundtrack of the club was dominated by soul, Motown and Stax records. Songs by artists such as Otis Redding, Sam and Dave and Eddie Floyd became lasting favourites.
“One that always stands out is ‘High Life’ by the Amboy Dukes. It was so different at the time, but it went down really well.”
Among the many acts he saw at the club, two remain especially memorable: Geno Washington and Stevie Wonder.
“The Stevie Wonder all-dayer was outstanding. It was packed and busy, and I couldn’t believe Stevie Wonder was there right in front of me.”
Standing close to the stage, Des was struck by the intimacy of the performance.
“It seemed unbelievable that somebody from America could just appear at the Mojo Club. Thinking back, it was surreal.”
Fashion was an important part of the scene, with Levi’s jackets, leather shoes and mini skirts defining the look of the crowd.
“If you liked the music, you dressed accordingly. Everybody had a similar style.”
Looking back, Des believes the Mojo played a crucial role in shaping what would later become known as Northern Soul.
“It was very formative for hundreds of people and it helped spawn the beginnings of Northern Soul.”
For him, the club’s legacy lies not only in the music but in the community it created.
“It brought together people with the same interests and gave them something special that has stayed with them ever since.”
Before he ever stepped through the doors, Joe Lakin had already heard whispers about the Mojo from older friends on the local Mod scene.
“The first time I ever heard the name King Mojo it came from my sister, who was a few years older than me. She was talking about a friend who was going over to the Mojo to see Wilson Pickett.”
For a young man from a mining village outside Doncaster, the experience of entering the club for the first time was unlike anything he had known before.
“As we walked in by the side of the coffee bar, you were obviously then hit with a wall of sound of music coming towards you in the darkness.”
The people inside made just as much of an impression as the music.
“We were in awe of them because it was all about passion and music.”
Although he visited clubs across the country in the years that followed, Joe always regarded the Mojo as something special.
“The Mojo to me always had special memories of being such a fantastic club.”
The records played there helped shape his lifelong love of soul music.
“It was the first time I heard my all time and still my favourite record by The Impressions, ‘Can’t Satisfy’.”
Among the many artists he saw perform, one night stands out above all others.
“I went with Linda, my now wife, to see Stevie Wonder at the Mojo. It was absolutely fantastic.”
Joe still vividly remembers Stevie Wonder’s arrival on stage.
“When they brought him on stage, it was like the parting of the Red Sea as the crowd opened up to make a passageway for Stevie to walk through.”
The performance itself left a lasting impression.
“Everybody was just blown away.”
Looking back, Joe believes one of the club’s greatest achievements was the friendships it created.
“I’ve had friendships for the last 50, 60 years with people I met at the Mojo.”
For Joe, no other venue ever matched what the Mojo offered.
“To me it’s the best soul club that’s ever been.”
He also feels that the club’s place in British music history has often been overlooked.
“It doesn’t get the credit it deserved. For Yorkshire young mods, it was the be all and end all.”
Even after visiting other famous venues, his feelings about the Mojo never changed.
“The Twisted Wheel would never come close to the atmosphere and the feelings I got in those early days of the Mojo.”
Before they met each other, Marina and John Leedham had each found their way to the Mojo through friends. What began as a night out soon became a central part of their lives.
“Once I’d gone, I became a regular. It was something you looked forward to every weekend.”
For Marina, the attraction was immediate.
“Great. I thought, I love it here. I loved it all the time I went. Fantastic.”
John remembers the club feeling different from anywhere else in Sheffield.
“There were other clubs in Sheffield, but there was nowhere else like this. It was almost like a secret – if you knew, you knew.”
The Mojo didn’t just shape the music they listened to – it influenced the way they dressed and carried themselves.
“The fashions, the mohair suits, the Ben Shermans, loafers that I still wear today – it’s just stayed with me.”
More than sixty years later, the music still evokes the same feelings.
“The music reflects my roots. I still feel that music when I listen to it. I still feel it in my bones.”
For John, the appeal of soul music went beyond individual artists or records.
“You’re connected to the music. And you feel it.”
Marina remembers how the Mojo stood apart from other clubs of the era.
“We decided to go to the Twisted Wheel to see Martha and the Vandellas. We said, we’re not coming here again. It was so boring.”
What made the Mojo special was the atmosphere created by Pete Stringfellow and his team.
“It wasn’t like, ‘This is a club to make money.’ This is a club where you’re special.”
One of Marina’s most treasured memories is seeing Stevie Wonder perform at the club.
“The crowd just parted and he was fantastic. We were all dancing and it was a fantastic day.”
Looking back, John appreciates how fortunate they were to witness an artist who would become a global icon.
“I was there at one of his first appearances in England.”
The Mojo also played a part in a much more personal story.
“We met at the Mojo. We’ve been together ever since.”
More than fifty years later, that connection remains one of the club’s enduring legacies.
“We’ve had our 50th wedding anniversary.”
For Marina, the memories remain vivid because the people and friendships have never really disappeared.
“It was a part of your life you really enjoyed. I can still see flashbacks of where I was stood, people I met, and we still meet them today.”
John believes the power of soul music explains why those memories remain so strong.
“Soul music fits the body. It’s something you can’t describe.”
And even now, simply talking about the Mojo brings those feelings back.
“It’s still there in you. It’s there in every person.”
Growing up in Lincoln, Alan Corkwell was already immersed in Mod culture and soul music before he first heard about the Mojo. It was through friends that he discovered the Sheffield club that would soon become a regular destination.
“One such friend asked, ‘Do you want to come with us to Sheffield, to the Mojo Club?’”
His first visit was not quite what he expected.
“I was hoping that the music would be all soul music, and it was Herman’s Hermits. I was quite disappointed.”
Fortunately, later visits revealed the club’s true character.
“Then we started to go for the Tuesday record sessions and that was really good. You’d pick up lots of different records.”
What struck Alan most on entering the Mojo was how different it felt from other venues he had visited.
“What first got me was these funny sort of African warrior-type soldiers painted on the walls.”
The club’s changing décor became part of its identity.
“There was pop art, and that was nice.”
Compared with other venues around the country, the Mojo stood apart.
“Totally different to the Night Owl in Leicester. Totally different.”
The music was the main attraction and introduced audiences to some of the finest soul and R&B acts of the era.
“We saw Wilson Pickett. He was really good. That was a really good night.”
Among the many artists he remembers, some performances have never faded from memory.
“Geno Washington’s Ram Jam Band were excellent. Fabulous. They were really good nights and they’d get the crowd going.”
Like many regulars, Alan gradually embraced the style associated with the scene.
“I had a green mohair suit and brown brogues. I had a button-down Ben Sherman shirt and a little tie.”
Dressing smartly was part of belonging.
“Everybody else did. If you didn’t, you’d stand out.”
What Alan remembers most, however, is the atmosphere created by the people.
“Everybody was really friendly and welcoming.”
“You could talk to kids from Hull. It didn’t matter where you came from – you went for the music, for the camaraderie.”
One night in particular remains unforgettable.
“The Wilson Pickett one stood out for me because it was absolutely fantastic.”
He was also present at one of the club’s most famous performances.
“I went to the very last all-dayer when I saw Stevie Wonder. He was fabulous.”
Looking back, Alan believes the Mojo offered something that is increasingly difficult to find today.
“They don’t have that camaraderie. They don’t have a place to go that’s special.”
For him, the club’s legacy is about understanding where the music and culture came from.
“If you want to dig deep and look at how things happened and why we’ve ended up the way we have, then you need to go back and find out and understand it.”
And as memories of the Mojo continue to be shared, Alan feels there is one responsibility that remains.
“Keep the memory alive.”
I first started going to the Mojo from 1964 onwards. In 1965 I was Assistant Display Manager at C&A Modes on the High Street. This meant that on Mojo nights I stayed in Sheffield after work. So instead of travelling home to Chesterfield I got changed at work, had something to eat in the city centre, before getting the bus up to Pitsmoor.
Those Mojo years were quite something. The club was quite unique compared to a lot of other venues at the time and the atmosphere was amazing. The latest and best music, both recorded and live was played there, which included Soul, R&B, Blues, Rock, Ska, and Reggae to name a few. The sometimes hot and sweaty club became a temple of cool for the fashionably dressed dancers. Latest sounds, latest fashions. Even the walls of the club were decoratively repainted every year picking up on various latest visual and social trends.
Besides getting to know some of the growing hordes of club regulars, I also got to know the people who ran the Mojo, like Peter, Geoff and Paul Stringfellow, their Mum Elsie who took the ticket money and of course some of the club doormen like Johnny Hackett and ‘Big’ Brian Turner.
At some point in 1966 (for reasoning I can’t remember!) I decided to draw a portrait for Peter’s up and coming birthday which was in October. I asked Geoff if I could borrow any photos of Peter to work from. He agreed and showed me where the Mojo photos were kept. This turned out to be a visual treasure trove in a large filing cabinet they had in the club office, full of mainly black and white 10” by 8” photo prints.
As far as I can remember it contained all manner of images including ones of the many groups and singers who performed there, the Stringfellows, the club, the club crowds and dancers. (as a slight digress to this narrative, I have to mention that after the Mojo closed and in the many years after, no one I asked including Peter, quite seemed to know where all these photos went to. What a loss!)
Anyway, I completed the pencil portrait and gave it to Peter for his birthday. He was quite surprised and pleased to receive it. This memory may well have been somewhere in his mind at the time when in early 1967 he asked me to paint some club murals. I was very flattered but had reservations.
The following (short) conversation went something like this:- to which I replied “But Peter I’ve never painted a mural before. I don’t think I can do it”.
“But you can draw and your job is quite artistic isn’t it”.
“Yeah, but….”
“You’ll be ok man. Look what I’m wanting is some Indian mysticism, some buddhas and some psychedelic designs…….”.
The rest is as they say, is history. Well social history anyway. So I joined the three art school ladies Sue Barfield, Julie Shrivastava and Allanah Hatfield in creating the wonderful 1967 murals. These turned out to be the last Mojo murals as the club sadly closed in October that year. Many agree it was forced to close, but that is another part of the Mojo story.
One of the legacies from the Mojo for me is that after not painting murals before 1967, I then made up for time. I painted some for the C&A boutique section called The In Shop. I later painted the Down Broadway and The Penthouse for the Stringfellows, the Ark Club in Sheffield, Charade Nightclub in Rotherham, the Broken Wheel in Retford, the Victoria Ballroom Chesterfield, the Bin Lid Club Dewsbury and other shops, restaurants and houses.
As for my Mojo mural companions, I know that sadly Sue passed a few years ago. If Allanah and Julie are out there somewhere it would be great if you could get in touch with Neil Anderson through the contacts for the Mojo Rising Project. There is another Mojo mural to be done for the project!
Long live the King Mojo.
As a small child, my first introduction to black music came in Crookes Valley Recreation Ground on Sunday afternoons. Near the boating lake is quite a steep grassy bank which runs up to the back of the houses on Harcourt Road. Quite a few members of the Windrush generation lived in these houses. For them, a quick hop over the garden wall gave them access to the bank.
It was here that I first heard calypso and gospel music being sung and played by people with guitars. I was fascinated, and Mum explained who they were and the music they were playing.
My second encounter with calypso was on television in the 1950s. At that time there was an early evening news programme, Tonight with Cliff Michelmore. On the programme was a black singer called Cy Grant, who sang calypso songs made up from the day’s news stories.
The final thing that gave me a love of black music was the 1964 Blues and Gospel Train, recorded by Granada TV at a disused railway station in Manchester. Many of the artists featured on that tour would play in small clubs on their nights off. Peter and Geoff, much to my delight, started hiring these guys to play at the Mojo. I couldn’t quite believe it when they booked Howlin’ Wolf to appear. Just amazing!
Chester Arthur Burnett (1910–1976) was born at White Station, Mississippi. He was named after former US President Chester A. Arthur and was given the nickname “Wolf” at the tender age of four after his grandad told him tales of Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf.
When he wasn’t working on his father’s farm, he was serving his blues apprenticeship, travelling throughout the Mississippi Delta alongside legendary musicians such as Son House and Willie Brown, during the same era as Robert Johnson. The early British blues boom of the 1960s gave Wolf the chance to tour the UK.
His single Smokestack Lightning was released in the UK, and The Rolling Stones brought him to a much wider audience with their version of Little Red Rooster.
Wolf had a very distinctive way of singing and performing his songs. His voice combined falsetto wails, growls and moans unlike anything else. During his stage act he would often get down on all fours like a wolf while singing Moanin’ at Midnight, and during Crawlin’ King Snake he would slither and slide his way across the stage. At the Mojo he even treated us to his impression of Little Red Rooster.
He was hugely popular with British blues artists, and many of them covered his songs. The album The London Howlin’ Wolf Sessions features some of Britain’s finest blues musicians, with Clapton and company reportedly finding it difficult to match Wolf’s unique timing and feel. Guess who was the real star of that album.
During the mid-1960s, teenage clubs were often viewed with suspicion by parts of the press and older generations. Concerns about beat music, fashion and changing social attitudes frequently made headlines, and television documentaries often focused on the more sensational aspects of youth culture.
When the BBC’s The Long Journey portrayed Sheffield’s young people in what Peter Stringfellow believed was an unfair and unrepresentative way, he decided to fight back. Confident that the King Mojo was a safe, well-run venue, he invited parents to visit the club and judge it for themselves.
Dave Manvell recalls the situation:
Infuriated by the sordid picture of Sheffield teenagers depicted in a recent BBC television documentary, Peter Stringfellow issued an invitation to parents to attend an open night at the King Mojo so they could see for themselves that everything was above board.
He said that the documentary showed both the city and its inhabitants in the worst possible light.
“I was horrified by the beatniks and scruffy teenagers who were selected for interview from coffee bars and clubs in Sheffield,” said Peter.
“The producers of the film seemed to have deliberately chosen the worst types and painted the worst possible picture of Sheffield teenagers.
“The club shown in the film was not one of mine, and I happen to know it is a perfectly respectable club.
“Every teenage club in Sheffield is attended, for the most part, by decent, fun-loving youngsters who love dancing and rhythm and blues, but you wouldn’t think so from the film.”
The documentary, The Long Journey, depicting modern youth on the move, was shot in Sheffield and four other cities.
Few people captured the colourful spirit of the King Mojo quite like Dinky Dawson. A close friend of Peter Stringfellow and Geoff Stringfellow, Dinky became one of the club’s best-known personalities before embarking on an extraordinary career in the music industry. Here, Dave Manvell recalls the larger-than-life character who became a familiar face at the Mojo.
Fondly remembered by the fishermen of Bridlington.
They had legendary exploits in the harbour in the hired rowing boat, as they negotiated their way out to sea through the harbour entrance.
A larger-than-life personality, Dinky was flamboyant both in dress and appearance, at one time sporting a magnificent Mandarin moustache.
He held the exalted position of being one of Peter’s trusted helpers and, in Peter’s absence, would spin the records in his own indomitable style.
In Dinky’s autobiography, A Life on the Road, he recalls arriving at the Mojo one evening and handing his coat to the young blond man working in the cloakroom. He recognised him as the lead singer with Shotgun Express – Rod “The Mod” Stewart.
Rod explained to Dinky that he was working in the cloakroom because it gave him the perfect opportunity to admire all the pretty girls as they came into the club.
Dinky later went on the road as a sound engineer with Fleetwood Mac and enjoyed countless adventures, both in Britain and the USA, working with many of the biggest groups of the era. His autobiography recounts these remarkable stories and is well worth reading.
He eventually settled in the United States, where he designed the revolutionary Acoustic Suspension Music Reproduction System, helping to transform live concert sound.
During the Summer of Love, Dinky could often be found handing out flowers to the Mojo audience.
Dressed in a kaftan with bell-bottom jeans decorated with dozens of tiny bells sewn around the hems, he jingled wherever he walked.
The owners of Mace’s Pet Shop in Sheffield Market couldn’t understand why so many young people suddenly wanted to buy the little brass bells they normally sold for pet collars. They stocked boxes of different sizes, starting at just one penny each.
For Dave Bacon, the King Mojo Club in Sheffield was much more than a place to listen to music. It was where he discovered soul music, made lasting memories, and experienced some of the most exciting years of his youth.
Originally from Dinnington, near Rotherham, Dave grew up in a town where many teenagers were enthusiastic about rock ‘n’ roll. It wasn’t really his “cup of tea”, however, and he was searching for something different.
The local youth club offered little inspiration. Most of the records played there were from the UK charts, another musical genre that failed to capture Dave’s imagination. Then, gradually, he discovered American soul music—and everything changed.
The First Glimpse of the Mojo
At the age of 14, Dave attended school in Sheffield. His journey from Dinnington involved two buses, and one of the routes took him past the King Mojo Club in Pitsmoor.
The signage outside the club immediately caught his attention.
“I wondered what went on inside.”
For the next couple of years, the Mojo remained a place Dave was curious about but had yet to experience. That changed when he was 16 and had started work as an apprentice at Steel, Peach & Tozer.
Eventually, two friends from work suggested that they go to the King Mojo.
The journey was once again by bus, with the number 97 providing the connection from the Wicker Arches. Their destination was Sheffield’s legendary club—and Dave’s first visit was on a Friday records-only night.
It made an immediate impression.
Walking into a Different World
As Dave walked through the doors of the Mojo, he was struck immediately by the atmosphere.
The music, the people dancing and the whole environment created an experience unlike anything he had encountered before. Alongside familiar UK chart records, he heard something new: music that had crossed the Atlantic from America.
It was soul music.
For Dave, it was the beginning of a lifelong love affair with the genre.
The people inside the club were friendly and welcoming, and the music was only part of the experience. The Mojo’s distinctive gangster theme added to its unique character. The words:
“What did you do in the war, Daddy?”
were displayed around the club, visible even beneath the subdued lighting.
The main dancefloor was complemented by a small stage at the front of the room, where two barrels stood. There was also a coffee bar to the side of the main dancefloor.
At the rear, a door led downstairs to the gentlemen’s toilets and cloakroom, as well as to the office of Peter Stringfellow, the man whose name would become synonymous with the club.
For Dave, all these details became part of the Mojo experience.
From Buses to a Lambretta
Dave’s visits to the Mojo eventually became easier when he bought himself a Lambretta LI125 scooter.
Later, he progressed to the more desirable SX200.
The scooter itself became a small advertisement for Dave’s enthusiasm. Its screen proudly promoted Sheffield, the Mojo and the Yorkshire Rose.
The Lambretta gave Dave the freedom to travel to the club whenever he wanted, and the Mojo soon became a central part of his social life.
Little Stevie Wonder at the Mojo
One of Dave’s most enduring memories is an all-day session featuring Little Stevie Wonder.
The club was packed, and the weather was hot. There was just one problem: Dave was wearing a double-breasted, chalk-striped suit.
Having paid good money for the suit, Dave was determined to wear it—even though he was sweltering in the packed club.
He wasn’t alone. Other young men in the crowd were also dressed in suits and, despite the heat, kept their jackets on.
Meanwhile, the girls’ mini skirts added another element of excitement to the already electric atmosphere.
It was a memorable day and one that Dave has never forgotten.
The Alan Bown Set
Dave also remembers seeing the Alan Bown Set at the Mojo.
The group was promoting its latest record, I’m Gonna Fix You Good, adding to the club’s reputation as a venue where audiences could see artists and performers at close quarters.
The Mojo was different from many larger venues. Artists could interact directly with the crowd, creating an intimate relationship between performers and their audience.
Many of those musicians would subsequently achieve much greater success, but the Mojo provided them with an important platform at a crucial stage in their careers.
Billy’s Bag
Of all the records Dave heard during his years at the Mojo, one particular favourite stands out: Billy’s Bag, an instrumental by Billy Preston.
Preston would go on to become an important musician in his own right and famously played electric piano on the Beatles’ Get Back.
For Dave, however, Billy’s Bag remains firmly associated with the King Mojo and the excitement of discovering great soul music on the dancefloor.
The Changing Sound of 1967
By 1967, Dave began to notice another musical and cultural change taking place inside the Mojo.
The emerging flower-power scene was beginning to find its way into the club, both visually and musically.
The Beatles’ All You Need Is Love became a regular part of the playlist, reflecting the changing times.
Peter Stringfellow and Dinky Dawson would scatter flowers from the stage for the dancers to wear.
The Mojo was changing—but it remained the Mojo.
For Dave, this period demonstrated just how quickly popular music and youth culture could evolve. The club was not simply reflecting those changes; it was helping young people experience them at first hand.
More Than Just a Club
Dave visited other venues in Sheffield, Rotherham and Worksop during these years, but none compared with the King Mojo.
What made the Mojo special was the combination of music, atmosphere, people and the artists who appeared there.
It was a small club, but its influence reached far beyond its physical size.
Artists who performed there would go on to bigger things, while records and sounds that were heard on the Mojo dancefloor have subsequently influenced generations of musicians. Some of the sounds, riffs and musical ideas that became familiar through modern recordings can be traced back to music that young people first encountered in places such as the Mojo.
Dave believes it is important that today’s younger generation understands this history—and recognises the role that a relatively small Sheffield club played in the development and enjoyment of popular music.
A First Love
Looking back, Dave describes the King Mojo as his “first love”.
It was a place where he had fun, experienced excitement and discovered music that would stay with him for the rest of his life.
Peter Stringfellow gave Dave various Mojo posters over the years. Today, those posters have pride of place in Dave’s home in Southport, where they serve as a reminder of an extraordinary period in his life.
The memories have never faded.
Following those early Mojo days, Dave continued to follow soul music wherever it took him. He became a regular attendee at soul events around the country, maintaining the passion for the music that began when a teenager travelling by bus from Dinnington first caught sight of the King Mojo sign in Pitsmoor.
The Mojo wasn’t simply a nightclub.
It was where Dave Bacon discovered his music. It was where he discovered a community. And it was where some of the most exciting years of his youth came alive.
When drummer David McPhie and his Chesterfield band the Blueberries arrived on Sheffield’s rapidly evolving music scene in the 1960s, they found themselves rubbing shoulders with musicians who would soon become some of the biggest names in the world.
And right at the heart of that world was the the Mojo.
David recalled playing the club, experiencing its packed all-nighters from the other side of the stage and witnessing Peter Stringfellow’s extraordinary ability to create a musical scene around the former dance hall at 555 Pitsmoor Road.
David’s story reaches far beyond the Blueberries. He became a promoter, DJ, record retailer and manager and played a little-known but significant role in helping another Sheffield musician, Joe Cocker, make the breakthrough that would eventually propel him onto the world stage.
But his route into music was much like that of thousands of young people during the late 1950s.
“Radio Luxembourg, I think, like a lot of kids at the time,” David recalled. “Listening at night under the bedsheets to Duane Eddy and all the rock ‘n’ roll people coming over from America in the ’50s. That’s what sparked it really.”
Chuck Berry was another major influence.
The Blueberries grew out of a group of young friends at a youth club in Newbold, Chesterfield.
“We went to see Dave Berry, I think, a few times, and Joe Cocker, and we were all around about the same age as them,” David said. “So we thought, ‘Well, if they can do it, we’ll have a go.'”
David chose the drums for a rather less romantic reason.
“I thought it was the easiest way of being in a group,” he laughed. “I never really developed it. I never practised. So I was just a drummer that kept time, basically. Nothing fancy.”
The Blueberries initially built their sound around American rhythm and blues.
“First of all, Chuck Berry, Bo Diddley numbers, basically,” David remembered. “Eventually we started doing some soul numbers. And then we started writing our own material.”
Their growing reputation took them to Sheffield City Hall for the city’s Battle of the Bands.
It was there that David remembers attracting the attention of Peter Stringfellow.
“He liked us as a band,” David said. “He said, ‘I think you’ve got something good there.’ So he did book us.”
There was another extremely useful perk.
“We got free entry every time as well. Any of us could go in free any other time.”
It gave David not only the opportunity to perform at the Mojo but also to experience some of the extraordinary visiting American artists Stringfellow was bringing to Sheffield.
The surviving gig records place the Blueberries at the King Mojo on 19 February 1966, on a remarkable bill that also featured Jimmy James & the Vagabonds and Herbie Goins & the Night-Timers.
David also vividly remembers appearing with the Spencer Davis Group at the Mojo.
“It was packed, as it often was,” he recalled. “We’d already played. Spencer Davis arrived late and they couldn’t get their gear onto the stage.”
That presented a fairly serious problem in a club already crammed with dancers.
“I can definitely remember that Pete York ended up playing my drum kit,” David said. “And I think they probably would have had to use our amps as well. So that’s my main memory of supporting the Spencer Davies Group.
For a young Chesterfield drummer, finding one of Britain’s leading musicians sitting behind his kit was quite an experience.
David also remembers talking to members of the group backstage. At another show in Buxton, he recalls sharing champagne with them around Steve Winwood’s birthday.
Perhaps most valuable are David’s memories of what the Mojo actually felt like.
Today it is easy to look at the extraordinary list of performers who appeared there and think only about the stars. David remembers the physical experience: the heat, the crowds and the sheer intensity of being inside the place.
“From the stage, obviously, you just saw the front row because it was always packed,” he said.
As a customer, things weren’t much easier.
“It was a crush, particularly the all-nighters, and you really had to have some energy to survive the whole night.”
Asked to sum up the atmosphere, his description was wonderfully succinct:
“It was sort of sweaty.”
For David, what made the Mojo work was not simply the building or even the astonishing artists who appeared there.
It was the combination of club, audience, records – and Stringfellow.
“Ultimately, I suppose it was created by Peter Stringfellow, wasn’t it?” he said.
David particularly remembers Stringfellow’s ability to discover American records before most Sheffield teenagers had heard them.
“His ability to spot decent records coming over from America and importing them before they were issued here – I think that had a lot to do with it.
“He got a big following for the records he was playing as a DJ.”
David remembers attending the legendary all-nighters featuring Ike & Tina Turner and Inez and Charlie Foxx.
Another unforgettable night involved Wilson Pickett.
David’s fellow Blueberry Ian Lee was persuaded onto the stage during Pickett’s performance.
According to David’s earlier written recollections, Pickett’s verdict on the young Chesterfield singer was emphatic:
“This boy’s got soul.”
David also remembers Irma Thomas and a tantalising opportunity that came the Blueberries’ way.
Through their manager’s connections, David says the group were offered the chance to become Thomas’s backing band on a subsequent British tour.
He turned it down.
“I didn’t think we were good enough,” he admitted.
“I’ve eternally regretted that in a way and I think I did it even without telling the other members of the band, which I’m thoroughly ashamed of really.
“I really didn’t think that we were up to doing it. So it’s a great shame.”
David’s importance to the story of the Sheffield area’s music goes much further than his own band.
He had known Joe Cocker since the days when the future international star was performing as Vance Arnold.
“I first saw Joe as Vance Arnold and the Avengers,” David recalled. “I saw him at the Lathkill Dale Hotel in the Peak District. We used to play there regularly and the Monsal Head Hotel.”
Over time, David became increasingly involved in Cocker’s career.
“I came to not actually manage him officially, but I used to get him a lot of gigs. I used to find him some material and whatever.”
Then came a conversation that could easily have changed the course of British rock history.
Cocker was performing at the Barrow Hill Hotel and told David that he was becoming disillusioned with music.
“He told me that he was disillusioned and he was thinking of packing up,” David said.
“So I said, ‘Well, you can’t do that. Let’s go and have a drink.'”
They headed into Sheffield.
“He sort of poured his heart out to me, said how disillusioned he was with everything. He wasn’t getting decent money. He couldn’t see it going anywhere.
“So he was going to go back to being a gas fitter.”
David suggested one more attempt.
“I said, ‘We’ll do a demo. I’ll take it down to London and try and get you a recording contract.'”
Cocker and Chris Stainton subsequently went to the flat David shared with his then wife Geraldine, above a shop at the corner of Chatsworth Road and School Board Lane in Chesterfield.
There they recorded a rudimentary demo tape.
David recalls songs including “Marjorine”, “Sandpaper Cadillac” and “The New Age of Lily”.
The most famous Cocker song wasn’t on it.
“For many years I imagined that we’d recorded the arrangement of ‘With a Little Help from My Friends’, but we didn’t. That wasn’t on the tape.”
David then took the recording to influential music industry figure Tony Hall in London.
“He was absolutely knocked out by Joe’s demo,” David remembered.
Hall subsequently passed the tape to producer Denny Cordell.
What followed is part of Sheffield music history. Cocker’s extraordinary reworking of The Beatles’ “With a Little Help from My Friends” reached number one in Britain in 1968.
The Sheffield gas fitter David McPhie had persuaded not to give up was on his way to Woodstock and international stardom.
The Blueberries themselves came tantalisingly close to a major breakthrough.
They secured a deal with Mercury and released “It’s Gonna Work Out Fine” backed with “Please Don’t Let Me Know” in 1966. They also performed at London’s famous Marquee Club and shared bills and stages with an extraordinary collection of musicians.
David describes them as one of Britain’s many “nearly bands”.
“We were one of many, many what I call nearly bands who sort of got a recording contract, then broke up after one or two records and that was it.
“But it was an experience.”
He subsequently moved into record retail with Some Kinda Mushroom, promotion, club management and DJing. His later Chesterfield ventures brought artists including Jethro Tull, King Crimson, Free, Yes, Family and early Fleetwood Mac to the town.
Also taking part in the conversation was veteran music industry figure Jonathan Rowlands, whose own career provides another remarkable connection with the earliest days of the King Mojo.
Jonathan was involved with Rod Stewart at the very beginning of Stewart’s professional career. In June 1964, he and business partner Geoff Wright helped arrange a demo session for the young singer in a basement studio in Berwick Street, Soho. The resulting tape was sent to Decca Records and helped secure Stewart’s first recording contract.
Jonathan would go on to work with Rod for around nine years and built a remarkable career in music management and publicity, also working with figures including Jeff Beck, Tom Jones, Engelbert Humperdinck, Nina Simone and Nancy Wilson.
His presence in a King Mojo oral history interview is particularly appropriate.
Long before Rod Stewart became an international superstar, Sheffield Music Archive records him appearing at the King Mojo as vocalist with the Soul Agents. They played the club on 5 February, 16 April and 8 May 1965, with another recorded appearance on 11 February 1966.
So this single conversation brings together two men whose lives intersected with two of the most important British voices to emerge from the 1960s.
Stephen “Smackers” Mathers was a young teenager living at Foxhill when he first discovered the Mojo. His memories provide a vivid picture of the club, the people who attended it, the clothes they wore and, above all, the extraordinary musicians who passed through its doors.
What follows is based on an interview with Stephen, retaining his recollections and using his own words extensively.
Discovering the Mojo
In 1964, Stephen was still at school at Yew Lane Secondary Modern and living at Foxhill in Sheffield. His introduction to the Mojo came through another local lad and, somewhat appropriately, a piece of clothing.
“I met one of the lads who lived nearby and I knew that he’d got a Union Jack waistcoat. I’d heard about the mod scene in Sheffield, and I wanted that Union Jack waistcoat.”
Stephen bought the waistcoat for five shillings and offered to go to the Mojo with its previous owner. His first visit was probably in late 1964 or early 1965.
The journey itself became part of the experience:
“We took a bus into town and a bus from town up to Tollbar, Pitsmoor. Walked up the steps, the doors on the right-hand side, walk through the doors, there was a little open window with Mrs. Stringfellow in it.”
Then came his first impression of the club itself.
“Opened the doors to go into the club and the first thing I saw was a big sign that was lit by ultraviolet lights that really showed off anything that you were wearing in white.”
The sign advertised the bands that were due to appear at the club over the coming weeks. Stephen remembered the layout clearly: to the left was a large room containing chairs, barrels and a coffee bar, while the dance hall was to the right.
The atmosphere made an immediate impression.
“Very lively. Loads of people milling around, chatting, dancing, music, unbelievable.”
Until then, Stephen’s experience of going out had largely been limited to youth clubs and Speedway. He remembered Meynell Road Youth Club particularly fondly, as well as the Memorial Hall in Hillsborough.
But the Mojo was something entirely different.
“The different fashions, the clothes, the girls, the music, the atmosphere. It was just a different world.”
And, perhaps most importantly:
“You could go, relax, you didn’t have to bother about anything.”
Meeting at Peter Robinson’s
The Mojo experience began before people even reached the club. Stephen remembered the regular meeting point outside Peter Robinson’s, the women’s fashion shop near C&A.
“Everybody used to meet there and then there were the old buses that didn’t have doors on. You could just jump on them.”
One journey to the Mojo brought an unexpected celebrity encounter. Stephen remembered that plastic rain masks were fashionable at the time, and as he and his friends travelled up to the club, they discovered that the man sitting behind them was singer Dave Berry.
“I can remember him sat on the bus. We chatted to him.”
It was typical of the world surrounding the Mojo: musicians, performers and young fans could sometimes find themselves sharing the same buses and spaces.
The Look: From Union Jacks to Levi’s
Fashion was central to the emerging Mod culture, and Stephen remembered his own clothes in considerable detail.
“I can remember having some black and white, big, checked trousers, kind of flared at the bottom, hipsters, a big thick belt on with a big buckle, a patterned shirt.”
Others wore striped trousers, while early Mod fashion incorporated paisley patterns and increasingly sophisticated tailoring.
Stephen’s Union Jack waistcoat eventually disappeared from his wardrobe after an incident at the Fun House on Blackpool Pleasure Beach.
“I abandoned my Union Jack waistcoat, after getting attacked in the Fun House on Blackpool Pleasure Beach.”
As the decade progressed, fashions changed.
“The clothes evolved, everybody started to wear jeans when Levi’s first came out.”
Those early Levi’s were button-fly rather than zip-fly and were not pre-shrunk, creating a ritual of their own.
“We used to sit in the bath for about an hour.”
For those who wanted a faded look, there were different techniques.
“If you wanted to fade them, some people put bleach on. But the best way to fade them so they didn’t look bleached was to get sand or sandpaper and rub sand on them while they were wet.”
Sheffield’s Mod Shops
Sheffield did not have the enormous range of specialist clothing shops that London offered, but there were important local destinations.
Stephen remembered the Male Boutique on Orchard Street:
“The shop is still there, but I think it’s a sandwich shop now. It’s got a little upstairs and a little downstairs on a little spiral staircase.”
He remembered Rod, known as Boxer, working there, along with Pete Teasdale. Harry Fenton’s on Chapel Walk was another important shop, while Levi’s could be bought from Bunny’s near the market.
For serious shopping, however, young Sheffield Mods sometimes travelled further afield.
“There wasn’t many shops in Sheffield so we would go down to London sometimes, down to Petticoat Lane, but we also went to Carnaby Street.”
Stephen vividly remembered his first visit to the original Carnaby Street.
“I saw what looked like a milk float, that was in fact a wheelbarrow with mounds of ice on it and Coca-Cola bottles stuck in the ice. I think it was the first time I’d had Coke.”
As the Mods became more interested in suits, specialist tailors became important too. Stephen remembered Burton’s, John Tempest and the more expensive individual tailors such as Barney Goodman.
His own collection included several striking suits:
“I can remember I had an olive-green mohair suit. I had a petrol-coloured mohair suit, I had a jet-black mohair suit, tab shirts from Banners in Attercliffe.”
Even decades later, the connection with the clothing remained. Stephen still had a tab shirt bought in London.
The Sound of the Mojo
Music was at the heart of the Mojo experience. Stephen had already discovered American and British music through Radio Luxembourg and was a committed Rolling Stones fan.
He saw the Rolling Stones at the Gaumont Cinema when he was just 14, remembering Brian Jones being with the group.
“I can remember standing outside at the side doors, not the front doors, and the Rolling Stones were looking through windows above and all the girls were screaming, and all the guys were watching.”
He liked the Beatles too, although he was not a particularly devoted fan.
At the Mojo, however, the range of live music was extraordinary.
“Going to the Mojo Club, you’ve got so many, so many unbelievable bands.”
Among the acts Stephen remembered were the Small Faces, Spencer Davis Group and Georgie Fame. He particularly remembered Georgie Fame’s large Hammond organ being positioned at floor level because of its size.
The Alan Bown Set was another favourite.
“They were a great band.”
Stephen remembered Alan Bown on trumpet and John Helliwell, who would later become famous as a member of Supertramp, playing saxophone.
Inez and Charlie Fox
One particularly memorable performance involved Inez and Charlie Fox at an all-nighter.
Because it was winter, the club was relatively quiet that evening. Instead of performing from the stage, the artists and club staff transformed the floor into a more intimate performance space.
“They took the benches from the side of the club and made them into a half circle and they performed on the floor.”
Stephen remembered their record Hurt by Love, as well as their version of Mockingbird.
Billy Stewart and Reg Dwight
One of Stephen’s favourite American artists to appear at the Mojo was Billy Stewart.
“Of all the American artists that appeared at the Mojo, one of my favourites was Billy Stewart. What a great night that was.”
Stephen particularly remembered Stewart’s energetic stage performance.
“He had a small microphone which he used to swing round like a lasso and then catch it.”
The pianist in Billy Stewart’s band that night was a young Reg Dwight — the musician who would later become known around the world as Elton John.
Stephen remembered the club being packed. A cloakroom worker named Pat was standing with him watching the performance when she fainted.
After Billy Stewart had left the stage, Stephen found him downstairs in the office area.
“Billy Stewart was sat in a big chair. I asked if it was all right if Pat sits in there while she recovers a little bit? She sat down and I spoke to him for quite a while. A nice guy.”
Stephen particularly loved Stewart’s Sitting in the Park and ordered his album Billy Stewart Teaches Old Standards New Tricks.
“I waited for about three months for it to come.”
The Spencer Davis Group
The Spencer Davis Group produced another unforgettable Mojo memory.
“The place is buzzing, it was absolutely packed, there was condensation coming off the ceiling and I was sat on the piano in the corner of the stage watching them play.”
At the centre of the performance was a young Stevie Winwood.
“Stevie Winwood, what a singer he was.”
The conditions inside the packed club were so hot that condensation was forming everywhere. Stephen found himself unexpectedly involved when Spencer Davis handed him a guitar.
“Spencer Davis passed one of his guitars to me and asked me to wipe it down because it was wet with condensation.”
It was an extraordinary experience for a young fan standing virtually on the stage.
Ike & Tina Turner: “The Best Live Act I’ve Ever Seen”
When asked which performers stood out above the rest, Stephen immediately named Ike & Tina Turner.
“Ike & Tina Turner. The best live act I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot of bands, but Ike & Tina Turner has got to be the best.”
He remembered the sheer scale of the performance and the number of people on stage, including the Ikettes.
Among them were P.P. Arnold and Cindy Birdsong, who would later join the Supremes.
Stephen also remembered seeing Little Stevie Wonder, as he was known at the time, describing it as a fantastic Sunday afternoon performance.
“The bands were just unbelievable. There’s too many to talk about.”
Jimi Hendrix and the Beginning of Psychedelia
Another moment that remained particularly vivid for Stephen was seeing Jimi Hendrix at the Mojo.
He was extraordinarily close to the performer.
“I was stood about a foot away from him, basically in front of him.”
Stephen watched Hendrix perform some of his famous guitar techniques.
“I watched him play it with his teeth. I watched him play it behind his neck.”
But it was what happened after Hendrix left the stage that Stephen found equally remarkable.
“I can remember him walking off stage, twiddling a few knobs, putting his guitar against the amp, and there were all this noise coming out of the amp.”
His reaction was simple:
“That was unbelievable, really.”
Looking back, Stephen felt that the performance represented an important change in the musical direction of the club.
“I think that would have started probably the move into the psychedelic era at the Mojo Club.”
Pink Floyd and the “All Day Love In”
Stephen also saw Pink Floyd at the famous “All Day Love In”.
“Pink Floyd again. Brilliant but not really my type of music.”
His comment perhaps captures something important about the Mojo: it was broad enough to accommodate different musical tastes and was continually changing as new sounds emerged.
Trips to Ready Steady Go!
Stephen’s memories of the 1960s music scene extended beyond Sheffield. He travelled to London twice with Dinky Dawson to attend Ready Steady Go!
He remembered Peter Stringfellow returning from trips to London with Sandy Sargeant, the principal dancer on the television programme.
“What a good-looking lady she was and a brilliant dancer.”
But Stephen’s favourite London trip with Dinky Dawson involved an extraordinary performance by James Brown.
The evening began at a bowling alley near Wembley Stadium before they went to the studio. Zoot Money appeared, followed by James Brown.
Stephen’s memory of Brown’s performance remains wonderfully theatrical:
“James Brown who came on the stage, did a few songs, collapsed, got carried off the stage, came back on with a big cape with a bit of ermine on it, sung another song, collapsed again.”
Then came another entrance:
“Came back on again with the ermine stole on, with a crown on this time.”
Stephen’s verdict was unequivocal:
“What a fantastic performance that was.”
There was also a dancing contest on the programme. Sheffield’s contingent included Roger Howe and Warwick Bower. Dave Senior, known as Bongo, was also on the trip, along with Dave Theaker and his brother. Stephen remembered that Bongo painted some of the murals in the Mojo.
“A lot of the top Sheffield Mods went down by coach.”
Dinky Dawson
Stephen’s memories of Dinky Dawson are particularly affectionate.
“Dinky Dawson, what a character he was.”
And there was one dance move for which Dinky was famous:
“If you want to ever see anybody do the Woolly Bully, he was the guy. He could go the full length of the Mojo doing the Woolly Bully.”
Why the Mojo Still Matters
For Stephen, the King Mojo Club is an important part of Sheffield’s history, not simply a nostalgic memory.
“It’s big part of Sheffield history.”
He also believes that Peter Stringfellow deserves recognition for what he created and what he subsequently achieved.
“Peter Stringfellow for what he went on to do and achieve, knew the music and club scene, he knew the records, he knew the bands, he did things that other people didn’t do.”
For Stephen, that is why the Mojo deserves to be remembered.
“And that’s why people should know about the Mojo Club in Sheffield.”
The Roots of Northern Soul
Perhaps Stephen’s most important observation concerns the legacy of the Mods and their relationship with soul music.
“The Mods in the 60s started the soul scene in the UK.”
He believes that the later Northern Soul movement should be understood in the context of what came before it.
“When people today talk about Northern soul which started in 1970, it was pure and simple soul and people need to be aware of the roots of this unbelievable music.”
Stephen places the King Mojo within a wider network of northern clubs that helped establish the culture.
“The 60’s Mods started the soul movement off in the northern clubs such as The King Mojo in Sheffield, the Twisted Wheel in Manchester, the Dungeon Club in Nottingham and the Night Owl in Leicester.”
Conclusion
Stephen “Smackers” Mathers’s memories capture the King Mojo Club at a remarkable moment in Sheffield’s history. For a young schoolboy from Foxhill, entering the Mojo meant stepping into what seemed like another world — one defined by fashion, music, dancing and a sense of freedom.
His recollections also demonstrate how closely connected the Sheffield scene was to the wider explosion of popular music in Britain and America. Within the same club, Stephen saw acts ranging from the Spencer Davis Group and Small Faces to Billy Stewart, Ike & Tina Turner, Little Stevie Wonder, Jimi Hendrix and Pink Floyd. He travelled to London with Sheffield Mods, attended Ready Steady Go!, encountered major performers and watched musical styles evolve in real time.
But perhaps the most powerful aspect of his memories is the sense of discovery.
“It was just a different world.”
The King Mojo was a place where young people could discover music they had never heard before, experiment with clothes and identity, meet friends, encounter performers at remarkably close quarters and become part of a rapidly changing culture.
For Stephen, that history remains worth remembering — not simply because the bands were famous, but because the people who gathered there helped create something that would influence British popular culture for decades to come.
Ask the “man in the street” what they recall of the mid sixties and assuming they are old enough to remember, you would receive some quite diverse replies.
Harold Wilson was Labour Prime Minister, England had won the World Cup in ’66. Breathalyser tests were introduced in 1967, and The Beatles released the Sgt Pepper album. Some may even remember the drug squad arrest of Keith Richards in ’67, when he allegedly said “I’ve never had problems with drugs……only policemen”. A frivolous and dismissive statement but containing a sentiment that was not lost on the youth of Britain.
Now ask the same question to a 45 or 45+ soulman or woman in the north of England or the Midlands: It is likely they would remember in a different way. They may recall the death of Sam Cooke in ’64 or Otis Redding in ’67. The Motown tour of Britain in 1965 or the Stax – Volt tour in ’67. What perhaps is more likely, they will remember the long gone but legendary clubs; The Twisted Wheel in Manchester, The Dungeon and Beachcomber in Nottingham, The Night Owl in Leicester or The King Mojo in Sheffield.
To some of our parents, teachers and work mates we were sick, gripped by a fever that had spread from the U.S.A. called “Soul Fever”. The British strain manifested itself in a fanatical approach to style and the “cool”. A new life style of clothes, black American records, the new discotheques and clubs and the discovery of amphetamine based drugs.
Many young modernists from Britain’s provincial towns served what seemed like an apprenticeship in their small-town Top Rank suites and dance halls, bowling alleys and coffee bars. Eventually some groups of the more progressive, followed the path to the more esoteric clubs in the cities. The King Mojo was such a club, it had all of the ingredients to which we aspired; A reputation for playing the best records, regular live acts, and the kudos of notoriety with the attraction of the so called “In Crowd”, immortalised by the Dobie Gray record.
The Mojo was situated well outside the city of Sheffield at 555 Pitsmoor Rd. It perched on a high bank at the end of a row of impressive looking Victorian houses over looking Abbey Field Park.
On arriving at the site of the Mojo was the image of the large King Mojo sign at the entrance to the car park area, which was at the front of the club. Immediately set back was the large front of a Victorian house with a side door entrance where groups of club members gathered to meet friends and chat before entering. Eventually you would pass through the door into a side yard and then on into the club, which was a meeting hall that had been built on to the back of the house.
The first impression once inside the club was of the coffee bar area, selling Coke, soft drinks and coffee, this was furnished with barrel tables and a few chairs dotted about. This was the only area in the Mojo that was well illuminated.
Moving on to the right brought the main dancing area and the heart of the club into view. Typical of many clubs of the period this was not large by modern standards. The club had a capacity of only a couple of hundred or so, but many more would squeeze in, especially for the live acts.
Walking onto the dance floor immediately to the front was a large stage on which Pete Stringfellow had his decks to the left hand side near the wall. To the left of the stage was a smaller stage area, which was mainly used as a raised dance area or an elevated position to view the live acts when they appeared. The whole place was dimly lit apart from the DJ’s spot. Walking down the length of the club from the stage would bring you to the short descending stairway which led to the toilets and the office at the back of the house.
The decoration of the Mojo in ’66 and into early ’67 followed a theme of Thirties gangsters with murals on the walls of old cars and gangster figures. This decor may have be influenced by a trend we called the “Capone Style”. Some of the lads wore three piece pinstripe suits but cut in a modern style, the odd brave souls even wearing trilby hats. A popular TV programme from the States at that time was called “The Untouchables” with Robert Stack, this may this may have had a direct influence. As with other trends of the period, it was short lived.
The members of The Mojo were modernists, stylists and soulmen, the term “mod” was becoming less used apart from the younger kids at school. There was also a core of the older “swingers” whose dress style probably reflected the styles of swinging London, rather than the street cred of the modernist in long vented mohair suits. (Bud Harper did sing “my suits are all mohair.” and he WAS Mr Soul!) Levi’s jeans and suede and leather jackets, Italian style casual shoes and the English brogue, all set off with neat cropped hair.
The atmosphere in the club was always warm and friendly, due in the main to the casual and unassuming “everybody loves a goodtime” approach of Pete Stringfellow. The Stringfellow influence was quite obviously strong, he was “rated”, having an easy going manner on the decks, would dance and chat between records and would respond to requests for certain records. Invariably the stage, when no act was appearing was taken by girls doing their dance routines to “Let the good times roll” or Philly Freeze”. On some occasions Stringfellow would hand over the DJ spot to Dinky Dawson, who despite the nickname, was anything but dinky! Dinky was a local personality who ran the Pendulum and the L.B.J. clubs in Rotherham. The essence of the atmosphere at the Mojo was one of a big house party and Peter Stringfellow was the host, eager to please.
The Mojo played host to a string of American and British acts and bands; The Alan Bown Set were a great live band and their “Gonna Fix You Good” was very popular, Amboy Dukes, Zoot Money, Amen Corner, Root and Jenny Jackson all played the Mojo. The most popular acts however, were the American visitors; Oscar Toney Jr, Edwin Starr, Jr Walker, J J Jackson, Stevie Wonder and Garnett Mimms. Garnett Mimms played the Mojo in 1967 and was brilliant. During this tour he recorded a live album (not at the Mojo) and so we have his act documented forever on vinyl, this was released on United Artists S.U.L.P. 1174 in 1967.
The soul scene during the Mojo era was a current scene, the majority of the records were new or recent releases. A survey of British releases (R&B and soul) for the last nine month period of the Mojo, Jan ’67 – Sept ’67, reveals that in the region of 280 singles were issued, the majority of these were played at the club. The record collecting aspect was vibrant, but for many of us still at school, with record companies release schedules so heavy (37 in April ’67 alone) it was virtually impossible to keep up.
The summer of ’67 marked a watershed for the youth of Britain and also for the King Mojo. Slowly, but with gathering speed as the summer wore on, the papers became full of reports of love, flowers, San Francisco and acid. This was reflected by Pete Stringfellow at the Mojo. The club was painted with flower designs and was even re named the Beautiful Mojo Club. Some members started to appear wearing caftans, beads and even cow – bells. Generally this was regarded as a bit of fun but some actually took this new philosophy very seriously. The whole scene did not change completely but to the dismay of the serious soulman some pop records with the love theme began to infiltrate the play list. The club became a curious mixture of modernist soulfans and those who had “freaked out”. The dance floor could be full of foot slides, spins and backdrops, Boogaloo and Funky Broadway, then almost in an instant, “All you need is love” or “Lets go to San Francisco” and the hippie element would lift up their arms and would sway around in what seemed an early version of the Mexican wave. Despite these differences, the mood of the crowd was still amicable. That summer of ’67 was interesting, tragic, amusing and silly all at once. Things seemed to settle down by early autumn but unfortunately it was becoming too late for the Mojo.
Residents had been complaining about noise especially from the all night sessions which were largely replaced by all dayers. Complaints still poured in about drug abuse and even sexual antics in local gardens! The Mojo was going to be closed was the word.
October 8th 1967 saw the last all dayer featuring Motown’s Stevie Wonder, his “Love a go-go” from the LP Uptight was always a Mojo favourite, as was all of his early material. The place was so full it was almost impossible to dance. Pass-outs were ink stamped on the back of the hand before Stevie appeared, so it was possible to go outside to cool off. Stevie was led through the club by a small crowd of helpers and protectors which included Clarence Paul, a Motown writer and producer. His set comprised of most of his early hits, his latest; “I was made to love her” and a stint on the drums. It was a fitting end to what looked like the demise of a great club.
Peter Stringfellow launched a Mojo appeal, for which some of us took a day off school to watch the proceedings in court. The appeal was lost and so the Mojo passed into history. Stringfellow hired the Sheffield City Hall for the scheduled Jr Walker concert and later opened a small club called “Down Broadway” which was sited in the centre of the city. This was a very disappointing alternative with no atmosphere.
The time had come for all of us to look for something else and try to fill the void which the closure had left. Some of the hippie element went deeper into heavy rock and acid. The so called soulmen went onto another club that had been a competitor to the Mojo. Just across the Pennines lay Manchester and a club that was to become even more of a legend than the Mojo; The Twisted Wheel, a venue that really was “sent from heaven”…………but that’s another story!!!
My favourite club from 1965 – 1967 was the Mojo Club in Sheffield. This had been renovated from an old Irish dance hall into a club of huge social importance for the youth of South Yorkshire. This teen and twenty‑something establishment didn’t serve alcohol, and as a result, filled a vital gap for the many underage kids who were well into the new underground music scene and looking for a place to hang out.
From 1965 – 1967, the Mojo would keep on building on its huge popularity, not only in Sheffield, or Yorkshire, but also throughout the whole of the UK.
The MOJO was a MOD stronghold as the kids that went there were totally fashion-conscious. Full length leather coats (male and female), were discussed, as was the size the vent at the back of your pin stripe suit from John Colliers or Hepworth’s Tailors.
The birth of Pirate radio was also of great importance. The money and machinations behind the ship‑ borne transmitters might be extremely dubious, and the government certainly disapproved, but there is no doubt that the pirates both answered a need in the nation’s youth and added a significant new facet to teenage culture.
On the television, too, there were changes. ITV’s ‘Ready, Steady, Go!’ (RSG) became enormously influential.
Without doubt ‘RSG’ was the single most effective promoter of London style of the time ‑ and it was also a great programme. Although essentially Mod in terms of style and audience, it presented artists and bands from all corners of the new music ‑ as long as they were exciting and innovative ‑ both English and from the States. On any week you were likely to see anybody from the Byrds to the Who or the best of the Tamla Motown artists who were over in the UK at the time.
At the end of each show the nation’s youth would know what it was supposed to wear the following week, and the importance of RSG should never be underestimated in terms of its social and musical importance.
But getting back to the MOJO CLUB in Sheffield, after about six months or so I became very friendly with the two brothers that ran the club Peter and Geoffrey Stringfellow.
Although the brothers held the papers on the place, the whole family ran it, with their mum as the cashier and father as a bouncer. Peter lived in the upstairs flat with his wife at that time (Coral) and downstairs was the brother’s office.
The Mojo did very well, probably because of the brothers’ previous experience in running a beat club in Sheffield called the Black Cat. At that time, they had the honor of booking a young struggling act called the Beatles and it only cost them 75 pounds! Although it seems hard to believe now, at one time even the most famous of all groups was a struggling new underground act that only peoplc on the scene knew anything about. The cool thing was that it was a focal point for bands to appear at, the Mojo actually created its own scene—it became the place to go and one could count on the music there always being great
I went to the Mojo all the time and so did my friends, because there were few other places where you could hear the sounds of the time. Even the BBC our national radio channel, featured precious little of the latest rock and roll music.
Radio Luxembourg had started playing all kinds of good sounds, but the low‑power station from across the Channel drifted in and out, regularly obscured by maddening constant static. So, we were left with whatever crumbs the BBC would throw us in terms of music for the UKs teenage audience.
The Mojo’s Peter Stringfellow who was simply the finest “live” disc jockey I have seen. His personality and knowledge of what music teenagers wanted to hear was uncanny.
He set up his turntables next to the small stage that bands would appear on so he could spin records and then walks out to introduce the groups.
The Mojo sound system was beyond state of the art for the time, kicking but and easily blanketing the main dance room, which was bare except for the odd church pew here and there to sit on.
The Mojo featured Peter Stringfellow spinning discs exclusively on Tuesday and Thursday nights as well as midday Sunday.
On Friday, Saturday, and Sunday bands were booked to play with the DJ in between the sets. My favourite time was the Saturday all‑righters in which Peter would reopen the club at 1:00 AM after its usual 11:00 PM closing time and then play records till seven in the morning.
The popular all‑night raves of the late eighties and early nineties were based on these wonderful nocturnal beat parties from the Mid‑Sixties.
Many great bands passed through the Mojo during this time, including The Who, Chris Farlowe, Alan Price Set, Alan Bown, Geno Washington, Small Faces, Ike and Tina Turner, Stevie Wonder, Spencer Davis featuring the boy wonder Steve Winwood, Tempatations, Yardbirds, The Move, Eric Clapton, Long John Baldry featuring Rod Stewart, Billy Stewart, The Temptations, Amen Corner featuring Andy Fairweather Low, The Birds (1966 with Ronnie Wood), Eric Burdon and The Animals, Pink Floyd, and probably the most memorable artist Jimi Hendrix.
Many of these acts would play the All Nighters since on Saturday it wasn’t that unusual for a group to work four different clubs in one night.
Bands could make some really good money this way and often times the Mojo would present three bands during the evening as they all traveled through its Saturday circuit.
When I saw Stevie Wonder play the Mojo on a regular Saturday night, the Motown star loved all the energy and enthusiasm, mentioning that he could feel the warmth from the crowd that danced, perspired, and shouted less than a foot away from him. The experience was so good that he decided to stay and do an extra show on Sunday. Since there was no local FM radio in England, the only way to get notice out about the added performance was by word‑of‑mouth. Wouldn’t you know it, the following evening the Mojo was packed after the Saturday crowd had gone off to other clubs in Nottingham, Manchester, and Birmingham, telling their friends that there was going to be a happening with Stevie Wonder the following night. More people ended up coming to the second performance than the first and the young super star soaked up another seemingly endless wave of energy from the ecstatic Mojo crowd.
But perhaps the best of all-nighter in my opinion though was
Ike & Tina Turner.
Their current song “River Deep Mountain High “, had been released to critical acclaim, but had not yet assumed the mega recording significance that in later years it would.
I personally have little doubt that this is one of the most ferocious songs ever recorded It starts at 100 percent and goes from there. Even now whenever I listen to this song, the sheer urgency almost topples me over. It’s as if Tina was told that this was the last song that she was ever allowed to record in her life. I’m confident that she had oxygen administered to her after the session. I consider this mind-blowing recording one of (if not the) finest of all Phil Spector’s many recordings”.
Tina literally took the Mojo apart that night aided by the wonderful Ikettes, featurung the very talented PP Arnold. Who was to have a major hit of her own in the months ahead with “The First Cut is the Deepest”.
This kind of R&B music helped fuel a completely Mod scene that had taken England by storm in 1965. Stringfellow was not only a brilliant front man, but he was also amazingly shrewd and perceptive when it came to booking artists that he knew would pack the place out.
The Who were the Mods movement’s most famous star band and the band’s members loved to play their originals and American soul covers for hours during these all‑righters.
The Mojo crowd showed up ready to dance, nattily dressed and scrubbed clean, showing off a tasteful regard for style rather than the later hippie disdain for anything formal. One night I entered the Mojo done up in my mod best and handed over my outer coat to the young man working in the coatroom. I recognised the blond gentleman as the lead singer of Shotgun Express (at the time). So, what was this musician doing in the coatroom? He told me he wanted to look at all the pretty birds that were streaming into the club. The singer’s name was Rod Stewart, and he was checking out the female fashion statements, whilst drooling over the Mojo dolly birds, who wanted their coats & handbags hung up.
In 1966, I went from being a punter (one of the Mojo regulars) on the dance floor, to a much more‑elevated status as one of Peter Stringfellow’s favoured inner circle helpers behind the turntables.
As did BTW……. Dinky and Dave!
He also needed good dancers on the Mojo’s stage to add colour during disc jockey shows or live concerts.
I would try to play what the audience wanted, but every now and then I would slip in a song that to me was extra special. Such a song was “God Only Knows” by The Beach Boys.
To me, this is one of the most beautifully arranged pop songs in the world. To me, it is flawless. I don’t even want to think about how young Brian Wilson was when he wrote and recorded this, as it just depresses me. If this song were all that the Beach Boys had offered the music world, they would still warrant inclusion into the Rock ‘ n ‘ Roll hall of Fame.
My association and friendship continued to grow with Peter Stringfellow, who had become so popular by 1966 that he was asked to travel to London to work; the crowd on England’s most popular television shows, Ready Steady Go.
This program featured chart‑topping music acts performing live in front of a studio audience. Peter would spin discs before the broadcasting of the bands began, whipping the crowd up into a suitable frenzy for the cameras, then keeping the energy level up between acts. Peter took Dinky, Dave and yours truly down with him to help out at RSG, just like we did so well at the Mojo.
I loved every minute of it, being out there on the RSG studio floor, dressed to kill and rubbing shoulders with some of Rock’s music’s biggest stars.
Having a bite to eat in the studio canteen, chatting to the stars of the day was something akin to being in heaven.
For the Mojo, however, the end was in sight. Complaints from neighbours of noise and drug taking resulted in the club being closed down at the end of 1967.
Peter Stringfellow and his brother Geoff organised a ‘Hands Off the Mojo Show’ 23 June 1967, at the Sheffield City Hall which sold out. It starred The Drifters, Alan Bown Set, Ronnie Jones & the Q Set, Amboy Dukes Big Band & The Pitiful Souls, which I helped organise, but sadly to no avail. As they say in the classics the future of the Mojo was determined; sadly there were no more options
The Stringfellow brothers opened up a new club in the Sheffield city centre, but it lacked the atmosphere of the Mojo, and so they moved firstly onto Leeds and then London.
My own particular music memories of that era are mainly concerning music as I was initially an ardent follower of Soul music. Joe Tex, The Temptations, Smokey Robinson & The Miracles, The Four Tops, Marvin Gaye, in fact the whole Tamla stable was just brilliant.
Going up to the Mojo to dance the all nighter away to some of the greatest music ever to make its way on to vinyl, was something to truly look forward to. Early the next morning up on your scooters to meet up for coffees and hot toasted teacakes up in Norfolk St Sheffield, were heady days! Indeed.
People often find it hard to understand the reverence that the Sixties are held in by many people of my generation.
In these days of clubs on every corner, high-tech, computer-aided music, Clubs that look like they have been transported down from Mars etc, everything is pretty much taken for granted.
The thing about the Sixties was that everything was so new…. the clothes, music, clubs, etc. Not forgetting, for the first time, we had real money in our pockets, which to indulge ourselves with.
I try not to live in the past by any means, and there is much to be said for the present day, but it will never match the absolute excitement of the “Sixties.”