I was first 'turned on' to music (and more specifically jazz) when at the age of eleven I was entranced by a record by Bob Crosby's Bobcats. Since then I have developed an interest in most forms of jazz - except for the most avant-garde forms.

As I was now singing (mostly the blues) with the guitar, I came to the notice of a skiffle group which asked me to join them. I had of course heard of skiffle, which was fast becoming a rage, but until this time I had no intention of getting involved. The promise however of regular gigs in and around London finally tempted me. After a month or two however the leader of the group (Johnny Morton) left and I was asked to take over the group, and so with my new professional name, the 'Rick Richards Skiffle Group' was born.

We quickly made a name for ourselves and reached the final of the National Skiffle Contest at the Hammersmith Palais. We also became the only group to hold a weekly residency at the famed 'Skiffle Cellar' in Greek Street , Soho. Sadly after just a few months my right hand man in the group, Johnny d'Avensac, got called up as a paratrooper and the group disbanded. We did however make some recordings that were not released at the time, but which are now available on CD. I started guesting at the Skiffle Cellar's rival, the 2.I's Coffee Bar, just around the corner in Old Compton Street, and soon afterwards was asked to join the resident group there "The Worried Men", as a replacement for Adam Faith, who had left to go solo.

On the 4th of June 1960 myself, with four other rock musicians, embarked on a fabulous adventure. At the time it was just a chance to play overseas for better money than we were getting in England. We had no idea that as the first English rock band to play in Hamburg we were making rock and roll history. It should have been a six piece band but because Iain Hines didn't turn up at the railway station on the day, there were only five of us. These were: myself on rhythm guitar and vocals, Tony Sheridan on Lead guitar and vocals, Colin Melander, rhythm guitar and vocals, Peter Wharton on bass, and Jimmy Ward on piano, vocals, and drums.

We, as the Jets, were the group that pioneered the way for all those famous bands (including the Beatles) that honed their skills playing long hours in the exciting red light district of Hamburg. Although the Jets were only together for five months or so, and only ever played in Hamburg, all of us except for our bass player Pete had recording careers in Germany. To me fell the honour of being the first Hamburg rocker to make a record in Germany when I cut two sides for the Philips label on the 3rd of October 1960. Because these tracks were issued - with true German efficiency - under my passport name of Richard Hardy, this is when I changed my performing name to Rick Hardy. These sides were recently included on a German CD entitled 'Damals in Hamburg' (Once Upon a Time in Hamburg) for which I was invited back to Hamburg for the launch. I shall never forget those wonderful times, which included 'jamming' with the Beatles in the electric atmosphere of the Reeperbahn. For me Hamburg holds a fascination, as it does I should think for any musician who ever played there, and I try to visit the place every year for a reunion.

After our five month stint in Hamburg the Jets broke up, and I managed to get a job in a package show based in Wiesbaden, working the American bases in Southern Germany. This was to be my first experience of cabaret. The first job I did was something of a tryout. It was at a huge NCO club at the massive Rhine-Main airbase in Frankfurt, and as I had never worked cabaret before, I decided to make country and western music the mainstay of my act. The show was a big charity event with about twenty or so acts on the bill, and they shoved me somewhere in the middle. Although I was understandably nervous I needn't have been. I know it sounds big headed of me I but stole the show! I only did three songs but I got a standing ovation and had to do several encores. Naturally I was exhilarated and the man who had brought me down from Hamburg was well pleased. He quickly fixed me up with another show for which I was to be paid. I had no qualms now about working cabaret and I was looking forward to another enthusiastic reception. It seemed to me I had just what these G.I.s were looking for. I was about to be taught a lesson in humility!

I had heard about racialism in America but now I was to be on the receiving end of it. My next show was not in an NCO club, it was in a club for bottom of the pile enlisted men. It didn't worry me at all to see that the great majority of the audience were black. I'd never had trouble with black people in my life before and I couldn't envisage any now. The problem was no-one had told me that black Americans hated country music. To them it was the music of the despised Southern Rednecks, and so when I opened up with Don Gibsons 'Oh Lonesome Me' it was met with howls of derision. Talk about lonesome. I just wished that the stage would open and swallow me up! I did a very short show that evening and very quickly worked on a new act that was based on comedy. I still continued to include country music when the audience was predominantly white (such as NCO or officers clubs) but steered well clear of it in the EM clubs.

On a tour of the Far East in the summer of 1968, whilst performing at the Lido night club in Bangkok, Thailand, I was seen by the host of the Ford Cortina radio show - Mr Kula Chart - performing a Thai song which I had learned in their language. This led to my broadcasting and singing in Thai and a meeting with the composer of the song, a lady called Porn Piroon, who arranged for me to record it, together with another she had composed. For the recording session I wrote English lyrics for the songs and shortly after making the record returned to Europe. Although the record company promised to send me the disc on its release they never did. Now, after spending nearly half my life trying to obtain a copy, I have, with the help of Henri Smeets of Holland, Mr. Chai Komlertkul and Mr. Rachain Jumsai Na Ayudhya of Thailand, and of course the Internet, I have at last got one - complete with its splendid sleeve. (See below)

During my time in Soho in the 1950's I spent a lot of time photographing musicians and singers. For over 30 years I kept the results packed away in boxes, unseen and unused. I was finally persuaded to get them out, and now it is a rarity when a book about rock and roll, or life in London in the fifties doesn't include a selection of them.