Band History
Fusion was formed in 2003 by northern guitar hero Paul Reader and Nicola Fleming, singer in Essex rock combo Crossfire: he liked Sheryl Crow and Alanis Morrisette and she liked their music. It was a match made in, er, a practice room on a farm in Surrey.
After navigating the treacherous minefield of rhythm section recruitment for a while with little success, a beacon of hope appeared in the distance. This shining object turned out to be the bald head of Nick Glover; conveniently, he was also a drummer and the owner of a drum kit so enormous that he was asked to pay council tax for it.
One successful audition later and Nick found himself in the band soon to be known as Fusion. His only reservation was the fact that they practised in Crowborough, some hour and a half away from him. That journey could get pretty boring given the lack of a radio in the van…
Fortunately, Nick decided to liberate his friend Phil from a band which had entrapped them both in endless rehearsals, thereby providing Fusion with a bassist and Nick with someone to talk to in the van. A few bags of chips ensured Phil’s agreement. Result!
Six weeks after the initial introductions, Fusion cut their first demo disc and barely was the CD burnt before the tentative debut gig took place in Ashford, Kent. With many friends and family supporting them, the event was deemed a success (not least by Andrex, who reported a significant rise in sales just prior to the performance!).
Gigs came and went as the band improved steadily, adding songs and misplacing some others. It was all going swimmingly until…
…Paul announced that he was leaving!! How would Fusion recover from the loss of one of its founders, not to mention being deprived of the credibility of a genuine northern accent?!
After various attempts at holding him hostage failed (ie, his wife threatened to nick their dinner money and duff them up, so they let him go), Fusion decided to recruit someone whose wife was happy to be shot of her hubby on a regular basis (and that dowry came in very handy, thanks Rachel!)…ladies and gentlemen, Mr Kevin Miller!
Kevin had been playing in bands around Kent for fifteen years but despite frequent appearances in public the taste police still hadn’t managed to apprehend him. The ability to elude them remains one of his key strengths. His fans call him The Fugitive Of Rock, his mother calls him “son” and the rest of the band call him Poo Kev. (Me, I never call him…)
Once Kevin had been energised in the traditional Fusion manner (left alone in a room with a bag of Haribo), he learnt the majority of the band’s set and pretended he couldn’t play the ones he didn’t like. His mission of intent was announced at his first gig by the presence of his Marshall half-stack: the audience knew he was serious. Well, until they saw him dance.
The first year featuring the new line-up was extremely busy, not just with pub gigs but also some private functions. This consistent gigging honed the band and resulted in a run of very accomplished performances. The set was augmented with new songs when time allowed and many early doubters of the band were silenced (yes, the band saved up their gig money and paid to have them “learnt a lesson”*).
(* For legal reasons, it must be clarified that this is a joke.**)
(** For those who like comedy, it must be clarified that this is a matter of opinion.)
Due to work commitments, including Nicola’s jaunts to Barcelona (it is suspected that she is in fact El Panto, the legendary underwear smuggler, but no-one can make anything sticky. Stick. I meant stick. Yes), the band has been less active over the last year but currently they are reinvigorating themselves and are intending to launch a fresh (or perhaps slightly less musty) assault. You have been warned…
