On the 21st of September, Junior Boys Own will be dropping A Boy’s Own Odyssey: Acid House Scrapes and Capers – a compilation featuring the greatest musical moments from a label not short of big names to drop. The Chem’s, Underworld, X-Press 2 – they’re all here – as is a special commemorative collection of the seminal Boy’s Own fanzines that catalogued much of what took place during that trailblazing time...

The following week, Bill Brewster and Frank Broughton - the guys behind www.djhistory.com - have put together a commemorative Boy's Own anthology; a collection of the original cult Boy's Own fanzines that documented their involvement in the acid house movement of the early 90's. And if you don't know what we're talking about, the guys have also written a 'where are they now' type account of the major players in it all...

Rob Leggatt
In 1992, giddy from the success of being Boy’s Own’s building site correspondent, Rob Leggatt downed tools to write film and music related frippery for Mixmag, Select, Neon, and Q. In the new millennium he began directing pop videos for bands such as Baby Bird, The Avalanches, Dirty Vegas, Spiritualized and New Order. He then fell into advertising and is currently doing his bit to hasten the onset of global warming by directing TV commercials. Married with two lovely saucepans, he lives in leafy Brighton in a house designed as an exact replica of Tony Montana’s mansion in Scarface. He still holds a huge fondness for acid house and is a minor DJ on the NU-Wedding scene. Rob’s favourite hip-house record is “Yo Yo Get Funky” by DJ Fast Eddie. Occasionally undertaking small carpentry projects, Rob recently made a wooden compost bin that looks a bit like a Beehive. Like everyone else in Brighton, Rob Leggatt grows his own vegetables and is writing a screenplay.

Adam Porter
Someone showed me Boys Own’s first issue and I was there. I remember talking to Andy on the phone and met Terry, Mayesy and Andy at the Trip in 1988. I was trying to become a journalist while working in a post-room, my dad’s shop and Hammersmith dole office. I remember talking to Terry in Heaven about trying to make a living, from music in Terry’s case, and journalism in mine. I got lucky, I managed to write full time at the Evening Standard from 1989. Lucky in that I earned a living from journalism. I don’t share the paper’s politics and ended up booted out five years later, arguing over racism. Lie with dogs, get up with fleas. But I’ve worked – to live I might say – all over. The Daily Mirror and Loaded probably the best known, I had a great 18-month gig in Brussels. But I’ve written for everyone. Journeyman scenes. I went with my missus to Tokyo on and off, we lived in France for three years. I had a heart attack in 2004. But at time of writing I’m alive they tell me. Now I cover oil companies, specialist, better cash, I like geo-politics, not celebrities. I still go out. Me and my missus love Quentin Harris. Who I’m sure I must have first heard about through the unremittingly excellent musical taste of Mr Farley. Good old house.

Phil Thornton
Phil “Northern Correspondant” Thornton currently resides in a small industrial town halfway between Liverpool and Manchester where his identity crisis has deepened and he can now be spotted at AFC Liverpool games wearing an FC United away kit. Phil went on to write for numerous angling fanzines, international Nu Fogey fashion titles and even wrote a book about knobheads in golfing sweaters attacking whoppers in tennis shorts at Scottish second division matches. A fanatical self-publicist and man of letters, his ma calls him “The Keith Flett Of The Internet” and he can be spotted in notorious Liverpool ale-houses playing Barry St John tunes to beaked up brickies.


Steve Hall
“Boy’s Own has been good to me,” says Steve Hall. “Without meeting the chaps in a pub in Windsor sometime in the early ’80s I’d probably still be... in a pub in Windsor.” Steve has spent over 20 years in the acid house, in the VIP rooms of clubs around the world and dodgy east end warehouses, flying first class across the Atlantic and in the back of Transit vans. He has worked with multi-million selling artists and sold white labels for cash. Today Steve works with stadium techno act Underworld, watches Chelsea whenever possible and lives quietly with wife sarah and daughter Harriet in leafy Surrey. He can occasionally be tempted to put on his dancing shoes and best shirt “If there’s decent toilets and somewhere to sit down.”


Steve Mayes
Retired to the London theatreland district of Drury Lane where he sells hand made walking sticks with ornate handles, hand-crafted by a bunch of Dickensian children who have squatted in his basement. Steve is a man about town and can be found bowling about most Sunday mornings with a cheery smile and a swagger to match. He is avalible to do guest ‘door’ appearances at acid house reunions and 50th birthday parties and can be contacted through his agent Harvey Wiener of Weiner & Co, Whitechapel.

Terry Farley
Alas Terry isn’t in a good place at the moment; his attempt at mixing a magic show with spinning ’80s classic house fell on its arse after a unconvincing debut on a cruise ship tour that took him from Dover to Amsterdam and back... and back... The magic circle in fact revoked his license to “thrill” after allegations were printed in Mixmag that he once took ecstasy with Jade Goody’s mum at a Rockley soul weekender (to be fair the picture looks only a bit like her ). The whole of Farleys “minimal magic” collection can be found floundering on the bay as we speak.

Millwall the dog
After the Birmingham play-off riot, Millwall had to leave town rather sharpish, and got himself plotted up in a lovely pub with a huge garden in Kent that was owned by an ex-flying squad detective that was a “friend of the family”. Despite his advanced years Millwall squired many an offspring during his well  earned retirement. Millwall the dog died in 2006; his ashes were thrown over the site of Jew’s Hill, Bermondsey.


Tarquin posh facker’
Gave up knocking out the garys to the posh set and went to work for David Cameron where he taught him everything he knew about youth culture, even lent him a pair of palladiums and some old Paul Smith linen trousers so the acid house generation could identify with the next Tory prime minister. Tarquin left the Conservative party after the Stanford bank scandal implicated him and several other ex rave promoters and record label kingpins in a massive swizz.


Cymon Eckel
Cymon Eckel, aka Sir Les. In the early days of the fanzine Cymon took the role of intrepid photographic correspondent and became known for his “unusual techniques” which confounded his many critics. Cymon worked tirelessly behind the scenes creating and directing many of the parties where his methods were considered haphazard but generally effective. His experience in late-night activities led him to the world of corporate events where he took money from “the man” organising stuff for Sony Playstation, The Brits and Levis amongst many others. Cymon owns and runs The Griffin and The Britannia, two of East London’s finest eating, drinking and debating venues, and regularly wears camouflage. There are currently no plans for an Airstream reunion.


Andrew Weatherall
...Wevvers... an enigma... a breeze that cools you on a summers day... a whisper in your ear that is barely audible... to be honest we asked him what he was up to but he couldn’t be arsed to tell us... That’s Andrew – a techno freedom fighter from the Windsor hood.