A shot of Inverness Street

CAST your mind back to the late 18th century. The River Fleet is flowing gently down from Hampstead, and the valley its spring waters have carved are open fields.

There are settlements dotted about – farms, cottages, and pubs the Mother Red Cap and the Mother Black Cap at the junction of roads leading to Highgate and Hampstead, where Camden Town stands today was rural.

Its farms produced milk and hay for the city lying south, its few roads had unsavoury reputations – bandits lay in wait for the traveller.

This bucolic backdrop is the basis for a newly revised edition of the Camden History Society’s fascinating and comprehensive guide to the streets of NW1.

The book is an updated version of a volume first published 20 years ago, the latest in a series that now covers every street in the borough.

Written by volunteers, it is a work of revealing research and packed with asides that makes the past come alive.

Contributor Lindsay Douglas said it was time the original volume was updated. “Archives and research has opened up in the past 15 years,” she says. “There is more information available.”

In pre-development days, the Fleet ran above ground to the Thames, formed by two streams in Hampstead and Highgate. It made its way through boggy land in Kentish Town, regularly bursting its banks and making what became Kentish Town Road often impassable. When navvies dug out the Regent’s Canal, parts of the Fleet was put into pipes beneath. Flowing rapidly downhill, it powered a number of mills. It snaked through the grounds of the Royal Veterinary College in Royal College Street, providing a place for horses to bathe.

The coming of the canals and railways brought with it industries, the most pronounced manufacturing pianos. Other major businesses included distiller Gilbeys, removals firm Pickfords and Charles Goodall, the world’s biggest maker of playing cards.

Spencer Gore’s take on Chalk Farm Road bridge

Camden Town’s relationship with the visual arts is celebrated. The homes and studios of more than 100 painters, sculptors and engravers are highlighted. The well known members of the Camden Town Group – Walter Sickert and Spencer Gore – are cited, while studios found in Delancey Street, Arlington Road, Camden Street and other clusters produced both Royal Academicians alongside commercial artists. Saucy postcard specialist Donald McGill lived in NW1, while wood engravers the Dalziel brothers had national recognition for their Camden Press.

From tipping your hat at actor Denholm Elliott’s Albert Street home – he sold copies of the New Journal in pubs to our striking colleagues in the 1980s – to where Noel Gallagher wrote Wonderwall, Camden’s streets are gloriously eclectic.

The closed Record, Tape and Video Exchange was, for example, where film director Quentin Tarantino trawled through the racks and found inspiration for the sound track of Pulp Fiction.

We hear how The Lyttleton Arms in Mornington Crescent was home to London and Birmingham gangsters in the 1920s and 1930s, as depicted in the popular crime drama, Peaky Blinders.

Further up the road we hear the story of Charles Brown, who earned the moniker The Flying Pieman of Limehouse, after winning walking races hosted by high street beer shop proprietor Jonathan Bath during the 1840s.

Researchers are allocated a route, and Lindsay drew on her background in the music industry to help capture seminal moments in Camden’s more recent past.

“There was no real mention of the music industry in the original book,” she says.

“It wasn’t glossed over intentionally but we felt it could be expanded on.”

Lindsay set about delving into how Camden Town became synonymous with music production. Her research ranged from scouring archives to speaking to venue owners and musicians who saw movements evolve firsthand.

“A lot of key people have passed away, a lot of legends have gone – but there are still those who saw things happen,” she says.

“There were a lot of folk memories – stories passed on over pints in pubs.

“I heard great stories – but also many we could not validate. There is a strong folk tale element in the music scene – and the Society is rigorous about verifying information. Some tales are almost certainly true but could not be proved, so they remain folklore.”

One such story is the link between the abundantly hairy, guitar-wielding 1980s musician Slash and Victorian chronicler Charles Dickens.

“The man who runs the Underworld club below the World’s End told me his bar had served both Charles Dickens and Slash from Guns and Roses,” says Lindsay.

“Dickens does mention visiting a pub to buy his father beer, and Slash was served when he performed there. There is one mention from Dickens, which does not specify he bought the beer from the pub directly opposite his house, so the story could not be used.”

A poster advertising The Ramones and The Stranglers at the Roundhouse

On every page there is the evidence of how working conditions and the cost of living come together to form a cultural milieu.

“Camden was full of young Irishmen who worked hard all week,” adds Lindsay.

“The Devonshire wanted to entertain them and got a licence in 1948 for Irish music sessions. It worked, so the idea spread.

“Where you had Irish bands performing, you then got other bands coming on stage. One thing leads to another.”

This cultural bedrock was further fertilised by a planning wrangle that had unexpected effects.

When the so-called Motorway Box, a dual carriageway through central London, was unveiled, rents fell through the floor.

“Young people moved in, set up businesses,” explains Lindsay.

She cites a small row of Victorian shops in Kentish Town Road.

“In that small, nondescript terrace, you could find Chiswick Records, Proto Records, Pete Waterman,” she says.

“There was Rock On Records and Holts the boot shop.”

The folklore from this stretch is rich and funny: it was said that Led Zeppelin were playing the Electric Ballroom, and had done a run through during an afternoon sound check. They then went a few doors down to Rock On Records, relaxing before the gig to find on the shelves bootlegs of the show they had just rehearsed.

Holts has been in place since the 1800s and provided heavy duty footwear for labourers. The Clash, Madness, The Damned and Motorhead, Sid Vicious, Captain Sensible were hanging around and bought DM’s from Holts – kick-starting a global fashion trend.

It was another sign of the mix of Irish influences on the birth of British punk, as epitomised by The Pogues, whose manager had an office there alongside The Damned, Kirsty MacColl, The Specials and Selector.

“The Favourite Cafe at No 11 served hot meals at 5am to Irish labourers, and at the same time served punks coming in before going to bed,” adds Lindsay.

“When you are walking past these places, and you know the history of these streets, walking around Camden Town feels different,” adds Lindsay.

“You have a real sense of its contribution to the world.”

• Streets of Camden Town. Assorted authors, Camden History Society, £12.95