Marc Bolan is dead. Jagger prances about when he used to prowl the stage. The Libertines have split, and Oasis, to most, don't have the kick that they used to have. The only way to replace the feeling that the aforementioned stars provided was, for a privaleged few to watch Lee Heir and his band Future in action on the scumbag riddled streets of Nottingham, a place known in the papers as 'Gun City'.
Heir would offer a cocktail of glamour and danger, throwing his fur coat to the floor, kicking his black winkle pickers in the air. To these indie kids, it was a rock 'n' roll second coming. There's not many sexy frontmen around, but Heir, at only 24, with his mature tales of abandon, would offer that in spades and get the teenage girls all of a flutter. And lets face it, working class lads haven't had a decent rock 'n' roll band they can follow in the last 10 years that's both hard and intelligent.
Lee Heir is looking for a record company to work with and needs your help to get his music out there and reveal to the general public the secret that we few already know: that he is one of the most impressive live performers to come from England in the last 10 years. He is working on brand new material as we speak whilst looking for producers and new and innovative musicians to work with. Here are a few demo recordings to whet the appetite and hopefully interest you in working with the man and promoting his music. Also, below are a short few notes from Richard Smyth, editor of Night Flight magazine, the cult Nottingham rock 'n' roll/indie bible.
Contact for more information: 0778 389 6948 or firstname.lastname@example.org
FOREWARD BY RICHARD SMITH - NIGHT FLIGHT MAGAZINE, FEBRUARY 2007
"F*** that s***!", an absolutely inebriated Lee Heir shouted on stage as the band of heavy metallers looked at him in a mix of anger and bemusement. I couldn't help but have discreet admiration in the spectacular nature that Heir was bumped out of the venue, after he slammed an expensive cordless mic down to the wooden floor. I too was smashed out of my face and was pogoing near the sound desk before being told off by the sound man. "You're messing up the levels." "F**k off" replied Lee before joining me. "Like teddy bears picnics, these f***ing metal gigs." What seemed like only minutes later, Lee was up on stage after a big fat metal man had suggested that someone do a cover of 'Ashes To Ashes'. When he realised it wasn't the Bowie track, it was Faith No More, Lee swore and dropped the mic. Something wild was going on outside the place once he was turfed out - on the CCTV behind the bar you could see a fat, mountainous metal man legging it down the street after him.
And then Heir comes back in. "I left my shades." And is kicked out again. That was his first on-stage appearance.
I knew of the young Lee Heir (then Herring) at school, a particularly rough one called Ashfield on Sutton Road, Kirkby, where we both lived. I didn't really know him that well, but I knew that he was the sort of guy that would sell his sandwiches to sweeten up the school hard men and make decent amounts of pocket money. It worked. One thing I did know was that Lee Heir never wanted to be a rock 'n' roll singer. He was into dance music, American funk and R'N'B. Whilst I was dipping my toes into stuff like Kraftwerk, he would be listening to Prince, Bob Marley, Grandmaster Flash, En Vogue and the like. His interests as a schoolboy lay within the media (particularly in satirical writing), football and obscure films (he wanted to be a producer, and later on often hung around with low budget local film makers). He found the idea of being in a rock band "ridiculous".
I didn't see him for quite a while, but when I next ran into him it was in a particularly rough part of Sutton, a pub called the Picture House. I had some Velvet Underground, a Bunnymen greatest hits, Rolling Stones albums. "Great stuff." "What you been listening to?" I asked him back. "Television, The Fall, Bowie, Captain Beefheart. That kind of thing." He then went on to join some strangers at the next table, some mouthy girls and one of their boyfriends, a massive rugby player. After charming them for approximately three quarters of an hour, he then goes on to declare that he's gay. I just cringed. "What music you into?" asks Lee to the rugby player. "I like John Lennon. Don't like The Beatles." "Lennon had sex with men, they reckon y'know. He got caught shagging in the broom cupboard at Heathrow Airport."