SUDDENLY Ian Doeser is in our midst, grinning like a maniac, thrashing at his guitar, half lurching, half duck-walking from the tiny stage into a motley assemblage of drinkers – myself included – who are roaring and shouting encouragement and trying not to spill too much beer. He is bellowing some lyrics – possibly Wild Thing by The Troggs or maybe Silver Machine. As Ian gamely wades into the audience, parting us like the Red Sea, he tries a few fancy licks on his Squier Telecaster but we can’t hear a note because his lead cable has long since popped out of the amplifier.

As a result the amusement/entertainment value rises several notches. Does Mr Doeser give a fig that his nifty guitar play is all in vain? Almost certainly not. You half get the feeling it is all part of the act. That’s right, just another full-on, thunderous, rowdy-bordering-on-chaotic night with The Hamsters From Hell.

I can’t recall the precise watering hole where these carousing rock’n’roll shenanigans took place – or anything like the year… sometime, long ago in the mid-Eighties, possibly.

We could be at The Castle or perhaps The Rolleston. It might be Wroughton’s dearly departed Three Tuns or The Fox and Hounds just down the road. Delving into the bowels of an unreliable memory, I am increasingly thinking The County Ground Hotel.

But why am I reminiscing about this quintessential example of Ian Doeser’s art, showmanship and determination to Carry On Bashing It Out no matter what?

Because this Saturday marks the 30th anniversary of his grizzled, ale stained, backstreet brawl-of-a-group The Hamsters From Hell, which has become something of an institution on Swindon’s live music circuit.

And it all started when young Ian toddled home from school and switched on the telly “one gloomy day” late 1974/early ’75.

A few seconds into the sort of teeny music show that normally lauds facile one-hit wonders “my ears were assaulted,” Ian recalls, by Dr Feelgood in full, frantic flow.

His enthusiasm was in particular aroused by the pub rockers’ black and white suited guitarist sporting “a pudding basin haircut” who moved across the stage “like a hyperactive pigeon.”

It was, of course, Wilko Johnson (see below).

“Playground Wilko impersonations were all the rage for a while,” says Ian. But for Young Doeser it was life-changing stuff.

Ian’s earliest musical recollections include shimmying around the front room to She Loves You by The Beatles (his first vinyl, bought by his mum) while later on he was turfed from the music room after a deranged attempt to mimic Who drummer Keith Moon behind the school drum kit (arms and legs flailing, mid-air).

Instructed by his teacher “never to look at a musical instrument again,” Ian – freshly inspired by Wilko – acquired a Woolies “audition” acoustic for £7.50 and began rehearsing with his pals in his dad’s bedroom, acquiring more gear and becoming increasingly louder as time rolled on.

Ian and a small coterie of chums were in the thick of it when punk eventually made its way down the M4 to Swindon. And in May 1977, the town’s first new wave band, The Aggravators, materialised at The Affair, third on the bill supporting The Clash.

The Adver took some fine shots of The Aggravators (Steve Baker, Nick Brooker, David Marx, Ian Doeser and Glen Doughty) posing outside the Theatre Square venue in their shades, safety pins and school ties.

The Clash gig has become part of Swindon’s cultural history, the Methodist Mission Hall having been engulfed in flames a couple of hours before show-time, prompting a last gasp switch to the Affair (a blow-by-blow account of which can be found in Adver 1-5-2013.)

In true punk style The Aggravators imploded after just two gigs, splitting amidst amusing rancour which saw Doeser and Marx swap insults via the Advertiser’s music page.

Ian went on to form The Purges with Glen and Nick, supporting two of the era’s finest bands, fellow Swindonians XTC and The Only Ones of Another Girl, Another Planet fame.

“Believe it or not,” Ian, 55, says today, “I was actually headhunted by another band… The Squares.”

But it was soon time to move on and by then Ian reckoned he had the gumption and presence to front his own band – Ian Doeser and The Posers. There have been others, too – The Booze Band, Doeser Goes To Hollywood – but it was the Hamsters From Hell that, against the odds, has endured.

They almost became The Yodelling Frauleins but for an unfortunate series of mishaps involving the fate of several rodents belonging to band members, prompting the now familiar moniker.

Over the years Ian’s clean-cut, almost angelic look of ’77 has dramatically mutated into an eye-catchingly shaggy visage favoured by the likes of Rasputin, Charles Darwin, Karl Marx and the ZZ Top forward line.

The Hamsters From Hell have acquired such an impressive biker following in Bristol that a couple of dozen hirsute wild ones once escorted the band’s van for 20 miles along a motorway on their way to a gig.

The band’s recorded output includes a couple of albums and a festive single entitled Oh No It’s Xmas Again, which Sir Cliff is unlikely to cover.

Among memorable gigs is the 1987 tribute to the late Swindon singer/pianist/actor Paul Cooke at the Town Gardens.

“It was the biggest crowd I’ve ever played to,” remembers Ian. “Around 1,800 people – including hundreds singing along to our original songs.”

And the smallest... two girls at Swindon’s long gone Plus One centre.

“Due to a mix up over stage times most of the audience had gone by the time we arrived from the pub,"  he says.

“There were just two girls left. We said they could have their money back and we’d take them for a drink or we’d do a set for them…”

  • The Hamsters From Hell perform their 30th Anniversary Bash at The Rolleston in Commercial Road this Saturday, supported by 2 Sick Monkeys. Where better to take your gal for a romantic Valentine’s night out?
     

    Five of the best from Mr Doeser Ian’s Top Five rock’n’roll heroes:

  • Wilko Johnson; my favourite guitarist for over 40 years, who even played at my 39th birthday party – and let me sing with him.
  • XTC; Swindon’s musical gift to the world and a great help when I was starting out.
  • Slade; the first major band I saw live and the soundtrack to my early teens.
  • Wreckless Eric; a song-writing genius who’s always done it his own way 
  • Ian Dury and The Blockheads; great lyrics and music by the un-coolest looking band in the world... apart from The Hamsters From Hell, that is.”


    IF you’re lucky you sometimes get to admire your musical heroes in the flesh – at least those who aren’t gigging in more celestial climes.

  • Ian has done better… he has sung alongside Wilko Johnson and, on many occasions, supported the man famed for jerky stage movements and a choppy guitar style.

    Attending Wilko shows, Ian invariably heaved his way to the front “subconsciously learning the guitar parts.”

    “I’d usually make it into the dressing room where, a couple of times, Wilko took the time to give me a personal tutorial.”

    Once they had a spat but Wilko had a novel way of clearing the air: “He spotted me in the front at a packed gig at the Marquee in London and handed me down a guitar to play along with his band.”

    Backstage at a Swindon Oasis gig Wilko invited Ian and The Hamsters from Hell to support his band at various shows around the country.

    “The first time we supported Wilko in 1995 we really needed to be on top form,” enthuses Ian.

    With Wilko and cohorts watching from the wings, the Hamsters turned in a sterling set. “Well, I wasn’t going to make a fool of myself in front of my hero, was I?” he shrugs.

    Another show coincided with Ian’s 39th birthday, during which Wilko invited him on the boards to sing alongside him.

  • In September 1977 Ian popped into the Adver offices to publicise his brand new band The Purges while displaying his brand new barnet, a severe razor job with some additional artwork.

    “I’ve got eyes in the back of my head” he boasted. “It’s great. Last week I got served at the Brunel Rooms with my back to the bar.”

    Ian, 18, went on: “A couple of girls tried to give me a Johnny Rotten haircut but it turned out more like Hilda Ogden.”

    So fellow band member Glen Doughty came to the “rescue” and gave him an all-over shave before applying some Gem marker.

    Strangely enough the look didn’t catch on…