Saturday, April 5, 2014

It was twenty years ago today...

...Tuesday, 5th April 1994, that I went to my first gig. The Beautiful South, at Leeds Town and Country Club.

I'd bought my ticket a few weeks earlier, not sure from where - but not the T&C's box office, as I headed into Leeds on the bus not 100% certain where I was supposed to be going. Cookridge Street wasn't one of the usual places I went when in Leeds.

Anyway, it must have been the school holidays, as Easter Monday was the day before. I suppose I was a little nervous, entirely unknowing what a gig entailed. I must have had a coat, but I think I tied it around my waist - as a poor sixth form student, yet to earn the big bucks from a Saturday job at Maplin, I probably skipped the charge.

I bought a programme - another fresher mistake. This had to be stuffed into the gap between my coat and jeans, at the mercy of any spilled drink or overenthusiastic jostling. Fortunately, it survived and lived with my other gig memorabilia* for many years. There was a quiz inside, win a day's drinking with The Beautiful South. Even though I was not yet of boozing age, I entered. I completely misunderstood one question, so my liver was saved. (I'd have fallen asleep after the fourth or fifth pint in any case.)

What I remember of the T&C is that there was a rather grand staircase from the main doors, up to the box office and through into the auditorium. This was a tall, white plastered room, reminiscent of a church.

What do I remember of the gig? Not much. A few things peer through the fog of time:

1. The first song, "Minicorrect". It was rumoured to have been one of the reasons for Briana Corrigan having left the band, due to its lyrical content, alluding to S&M and abusive relationships. I already had two versions on CD: a loud, fast demo that was B-side to "Good As Gold", and the languid, string-drenched album track on "Miaow". What speed it was played at, I forget. The single memory I have is the stage lighting turning, shining bright yellow lights over the audience, absolutely flooding the place. I never again heard it played live.

2. "Old Red Eyes Is Back". One of my favourite Beautiful South songs, and judging by the human tidal surge, many other people's too. I think I went across the room at least twice - all the way over to the right, then all the way over to the left, then finally back to the middle.

3. The albino man and his little friend. There was a guy, quite old, who wore white, had white hair, and looked quite out of place at any gig. He stood stoically still, a few metres away from me. He had a friend with him, who looked for all the world like Ronnie Corbett. I saw the albino guy at other gigs - most bizarrely, Garbage, also at the T&C, but Ronnie Corbett was never with him. Perhaps he was at the golf course.

4. Encores. Being my very first gig, I wasn't entirely familiar with the concept of the encore, let alone two. I can't remember what songs were included - possibly Woman In The Wall or 36D. (The main set had closed with one of them, the other was definitely in the encore.) Fortunately, being in the middle of the crowd, and also not having to race for a bus home for school in the morning, I held my ground. A rare moment of copping on that the rest of the audience were not moving either.

5. The support act were called Frente! and came from Australia. They might have appeared in "Home and Away" at some point. They had an album called "Marvin the Album". Other than that, I couldn't tell you anything about them.

So that was my first gig. I saw The Beautiful South again at the end of the year at Hull Ice Arena - just as Carry On Up The Charts was beginning to sell like hot cakes. There were many more after that - bigger sheds in Sheffield, Manchester and Dublin, the whatever-it-was-called-at-the-time stadium in Huddersfield (once supporting R.E.M., another their big 'South v North' show), a trip to London to Islington Carling Academy, and a hastily arranged set in a New York record shop/cafe as a planned concert had been cancelled.** I've also seen Paul perform in the Leftfield tent at Glastonbury, Billy Bragg joining in with a cover of "White Man In Hammersmith Palais".

I expanded my gig going horizons beyond The Beautiful South, and I've lost count of how many I've been to in total. My first four years in Dublin racked up at least a gig per month, the rate now slowed somewhat now I've other priorities.

Still, roll on June 7th!

* A pile of ticket stubs, T-shirts, postcards and other gubbins, in a drawer, under my bed.

** I happened to be on holiday in NYC at the time, it wasn't planned the other way around. Although I once did go to Brussels to meet up with other TBS fans who were members of the List For Whoever mailing list.

Saturday, January 4, 2014

Berlin Blues

Berlin Schönefeld airport. Old, decrepit, small, claustrophobic in places, due to have been replaced. My experience there today was one of increasing frustration.

The day began well, with three train journeys, each one punctual to the minute. The stress began shortly after entering Terminal A. Departures, naturally, are upstairs. There are eighteen check in desks, in two banks of nine, in an area so small you could comfortably throw a tennis ball from one side to the other without much effort.

However, in between is a snaking queue of similarly frustrated passengers waiting to go through the security gate, restricting each check in desk to a queue depth of a few metres. Matters are not helped by there being insufficient barriers to guide the security queue, so the queue of confused travellers randomly juts out into the remaining space.

Furthermore, in front of all this, the Berlin Landespolizei have three massive scanners for luggage pre-screening. Again with a long, ungainly queue.

Once through security, one can relax in a corridor that has a handful of shops and one bar. Kilkenny's Irish Pub, obviously.

As I write this, I'm sat in a small departure lounge - more accurately a slightly larger Portakabin - waiting for my flight. This is, of course, at the furthest reach of the terminal.

Actually, there's the incoming plane. Salvation may be at hand, at least until Ryanair's first onboard announcement.

Sunday, December 29, 2013

The Ashes Calamity: A Theory

I have a theory as to why England are currently toiling their way to humiliating series defeat in Australia.

During the summer, in the build up to the previous series, it was declared "the worst ever Australian team" to make its way to Britain. Errant nonsense, as the 3-0 scoreline was no fair reflection of those tests.

However, England seem to have decided to properly show what a worst touring side ever looks like - particularly when it contains most of the players who have been unassailable until recently.

In a way, the haplessness is comforting. It's nostalgia for those fragile 80s and 90s teams. Winning things just isn't English, or indeed cricket.

Thursday, December 26, 2013

Phantom Icons

The good folk at Phantom 105.2 have run another poll that has sorted out their Christmas playlist. This year, they wanted your musical icons.

An interesting subject, as what defines an icon? Is it longevity, a varied career or, as in many sad cases, dying young leaving a preserved image of cool an maybe a couple of decent records. (Jim Morrison not withstanding. Sorry, I can't abide The Doors.)

The countdown is underway. Here are my choices. (Damn it! Forgot about Ray Davies!)

1. Paul McCartney
He was a Beatle for goodness sake. More importantly he wrote "Paperback Writer" - a song I'm increasingly believing might be the finest recorded. If only he would stop slaughtering "Hey Jude" at huge public events. (With the Olympics and Diamond Jubilee done, we should be safe for a few years.)

2. David Bowie
The chameleon pop star. His run of 70s albums is as remarkably consistent as that of The Beatles from a decade before. Ziggy, Aladdin Sane, nicking Philly soul, the Berlin years - he was also mates with Iggy Pop, picking him up after The Stooges fell apart. Don't mention the Laughing Gnome though.

3. Mark E Smith
Curmudgeonly. Splenetic. Acidic. Pugilistic - even with band mates while on stage. The nucleus about which the myriad cast of The Fall revolve. Less a singer, more haranguing word wrangler. Holder of the Guinness World Record for use of 'ah'. Always different, always the same.

4. Paul Heaton
Quite simply, soundtracked my growing up. The Housemartins were around when I was seven years old; The Beautiful South were the first band I was properly into (take that indie scenesters!) and the first band I saw live. Also, I share my birthday with him. (Yes, and Billy Joel and Dave Gahan.)

5. Jonny Greenwood
Thom Yorke may be front man of Radiohead, but they'd be less interesting without Jonny. He's also produced several film scores, snubbed by Oscar® for "There Will Be Blood".

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Random Tracks of Conciousness 27 Nov 2013

This one snuck up on me while cycling to work...

The Decemberists - The Bagman's Gambit