Gig night
So, let's have a look at this list I wrote out.
Busy day, last minute departure? Check.
Long journey? Check.
Stressy drive, lorries, sunday drivers, too much road for too little time? Check.
Many stupid roadworks? Check.
Lots of swearing? Check.
Three bald blokes from Birkenhead with guitars and a drummer? Check.
Ah, must be the ever popular "attempt to shoehorn live entertainment into the already creaking schedule" then.
Actually, amazingly managed to make it into the Norwich Waterfront just in time for the first song, thanks to Emily the GPS being spot on the money. Goldie Lookin' Car's a little in the wars at the moment, but the vroomy bit still vrooms and the steery bit still points it in the right direction at terrible speed when required, which on this trip down is all the time so all is well and the destination is achieved with no hassles other than time and stress; no crashing or police issues to deal with, which is good.
The reason for all this energy is that Half Man, Half Biscuit have gotten out of bed and are playing. This is a big thing. I'm through with justifying why I love this band, enough to say they're national treasures and have been a feature in my stereo since around 1985. Google them if you're interested ;o). But a few thoughts:
It's very, very surreal to hear a song that you've played so many times for so long that it's lodged in your subconcious played live for the first time ("f*ckin' 'ell, it's Fred Titmuss") as the second song in.
Their old stuff is very, very different played in the way they play these days - ie: competently, and with capability of tuning instruments.
Yes - Nigel, their singer really does look like Jap Stam but is far less scary in real life than he looks in pictures, banters with the audience about where to buy hiking boots and really does read out the football scores half way through the gig (Chelsea lost on penalties, YAY).
Personal highlights? Fred Titmuss; Paintball's coming home; Vatican Broadside; The Best things in Life; Trumpton Riots, National Shite Day of course, Joy Division Oven Gloves. Ah sod it, the whole long set list. Plenty missing, but you can't shoe horn in everything that's great - you'd be there all night. Hmmm, this may not be a bad thing. This gig has been a long time coming for me; 23 years? That beats my previous "fan of the music-finally gets to see gig" record with Morrissey by about five years. And I think I enjoyed this more.
Nice to run into Jacko and JJ from the world famous class of 1987 there. But no time for big chat, for it was time to point the GLC northwards again. And the gig didn't finish in time for the pub, which was a shame because I know a very fine pub in that locale which was chucking out just as we drove past it. Hey ho. And if this looks as if I'm finishing off this review because I'm in a hurry to be elsewhere - I am! Back to that crappy schedule!
Busy day, last minute departure? Check.
Long journey? Check.
Stressy drive, lorries, sunday drivers, too much road for too little time? Check.
Many stupid roadworks? Check.
Lots of swearing? Check.
Three bald blokes from Birkenhead with guitars and a drummer? Check.
Ah, must be the ever popular "attempt to shoehorn live entertainment into the already creaking schedule" then.
Actually, amazingly managed to make it into the Norwich Waterfront just in time for the first song, thanks to Emily the GPS being spot on the money. Goldie Lookin' Car's a little in the wars at the moment, but the vroomy bit still vrooms and the steery bit still points it in the right direction at terrible speed when required, which on this trip down is all the time so all is well and the destination is achieved with no hassles other than time and stress; no crashing or police issues to deal with, which is good.
The reason for all this energy is that Half Man, Half Biscuit have gotten out of bed and are playing. This is a big thing. I'm through with justifying why I love this band, enough to say they're national treasures and have been a feature in my stereo since around 1985. Google them if you're interested ;o). But a few thoughts:
It's very, very surreal to hear a song that you've played so many times for so long that it's lodged in your subconcious played live for the first time ("f*ckin' 'ell, it's Fred Titmuss") as the second song in.
Their old stuff is very, very different played in the way they play these days - ie: competently, and with capability of tuning instruments.
Yes - Nigel, their singer really does look like Jap Stam but is far less scary in real life than he looks in pictures, banters with the audience about where to buy hiking boots and really does read out the football scores half way through the gig (Chelsea lost on penalties, YAY).
Personal highlights? Fred Titmuss; Paintball's coming home; Vatican Broadside; The Best things in Life; Trumpton Riots, National Shite Day of course, Joy Division Oven Gloves. Ah sod it, the whole long set list. Plenty missing, but you can't shoe horn in everything that's great - you'd be there all night. Hmmm, this may not be a bad thing. This gig has been a long time coming for me; 23 years? That beats my previous "fan of the music-finally gets to see gig" record with Morrissey by about five years. And I think I enjoyed this more.
Nice to run into Jacko and JJ from the world famous class of 1987 there. But no time for big chat, for it was time to point the GLC northwards again. And the gig didn't finish in time for the pub, which was a shame because I know a very fine pub in that locale which was chucking out just as we drove past it. Hey ho. And if this looks as if I'm finishing off this review because I'm in a hurry to be elsewhere - I am! Back to that crappy schedule!
posted by Fred the Singing Bandit at 9:48 am
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