Londoners Magazine

Nearly famous? George Terry reminisces about her band The Schla La Las, their dream of rock stardom and their fall from glory.

I was recognised last week. I was at a private view, eyeballing the art and pretending I wasn’t there just for the cheese and wine, when a woman approached me.“Excuse me,” she said. “Didn’t you used to be in a pop band?”

Well, seeing as you asked, yes I did.

I played in the all-girl rock and roll sensation that was The Schla La Las. You may have heard of us. We were kinda big on a certain scene for a while. We played at festivals, on the radio and our last video was play-listed on Topshop TV.

I was referred to as an “indie style icon” by The Sunday Times and horribly misquoted in i-D magazine. They alleged that I “giggled”: “I’ve heard of bands living in each other’s pockets, but I’ve never heard of a band whose menstrual cycles coincide.”

I’ve written the theme tune to a film and music that was used to advertise the Die Hard films over Christmas. We - The Schla La Las - seemed to be on the cusp of making it but never quite broke through.

I have been considering how this travesty occurred and came up with the following reasons:

1) Bad luck

We were asked to play the main stage at Bestival, a huge festival on the Isle of Wight. It was a big deal and our potential signing to an influential label hinged upon it.

The night before we were due to play our lead guitarist went to hospital. I found out the news as I was being interviewed on Bestival radio. In a moment of desperation I asked the festival goers if one of them wanted to play with us.

The next morning, an hour before we went on stage, we attempted to teach a stranger our songs. He seemed competent, despite being a boy. We took to the stage and as I bellowed: “Hello Isle of Wight!” I thought we might just get away with it.

Then my G-string snapped.

We battled on but our spirit had been broken.

2) Booze

We had a sponsorship deal with a certain clothing company once. A condition of the deal was that we played an all-ages surf festival in Cornwall.

They insisted that we turned up to sound check at 9am. Our stage time was 5.30pm. In the interim period I found the free bar and enjoyed myself as best I could.

By the time we played, my judgement, shall I say, was impaired, and forgetting the family-orientated nature of the event I told a joke with a punch line involving the word c*nt.

It wasn’t big or clever, but damn, it was funny.

And so, our sponsorship was quietly withdrawn.

3) Birds

I love The Schla La Ladies but sitting in a cramped van with four girls whose menstrual cycles coincide (they did, I just never told i-D they did) can be a little tense.

And I defy anyone, male or female, to say nothing but “crab sandwiches” from London to Sheffield and not be hit over the head with a bass guitar.

From top to bottom, photos by: Bob at Underexposed, Vicki Churchill.