The Stranglers On Tour - by Mully................
NO MORE SHAKESPEAROES - MARCH ON TOUR 2015
Unlike the MeninOrange, stationary at Twadell Avenue, The MeninBlack are once again taking their traditional route - marching on - up and down the length and breadth of Britain, with die-hard followers treading the black foot as a multitude of DMs tramp along the Queen's Highways in support. The annual Stranglers' tour - a celebration of not only the band and their music, but also of the loyal familyinblack - the leather jacketed horde descending from far and near to invade the cities and towns listed on this year's tour poster.
Ladies and gentlefolks, let me introduce you to......
THE MERCHANTS OF MENACE
ACT 1 - LONDON 06.03.15
Scene 1 - The HOPE and ANCHOR - STRAIGHTEN OUT
After an uneventful journey from Belfast to London - via plane, train (overground and underground - but not a womble in sight) and on foot, I check into my accommodation for the night. Speedy turnaround and I wend my way to The Hope and Anchor pub in Islington for the newer tradition of a pre-gig social gathering with premier Strangler tribute act Straighten Out. This band play a classic set of mostly early period Strangler tunes, whetting the fans' appetite for the real thing later on that evening in The Roundhouse. I arrive after the band have already started only to be greeted in the bar by Alan and his brother Steve - so we soujourn to the seated exterior with liquid refreshment in hand to plot and plan further adventures and catch up on the gossip. I do manage after a while to pop my head downstairs - the music blasting and the packed room a mass of black bedecked bodies pogoing and singing along to accompany the band in full flow. The heat and humidity generated from the throng hits you square in the face, and rather than try and make it inside, I retrace my steps back out to the relative clamness of the London streets.
At various stages bedraggled, sweaty bodies emerge for some fresh air - some head back down, but others remain and the process of catching up with old friends begins. Soon a pair of highly polished ox-blood DMs appear beside me - a leather motorcycle jacket with a tartan scarf jauntily sticking out the pocket could only mean John Buchanan has arrived. Man hugs, another pint thrust into my hand and stories of the earlier tour gigs are regaled. In Guildford the night before he met a big guy from Donegal, or Bangor, or somewhere.... " D'ya know him?". It could only be Alastair who I know was attending both gigs and later on the man himself appears before us both - "Aye, that's him". Two punks from Ulster and the only time we socialise is at Strangler gigs across the Irish Sea!! More arrivals and soon, holding court at our table, the enfant terrible from Nottingham spouting devo-lution and other Spoonerisms. Les, smiling, beguiling - casting a shadow as tall as the steeples he climbs - joins the crowd and how can I refuse to take a photo of him betwixt the Finchleys.
As if pre-destined the clouds part, the sun (because there's always the sun) appears from behind the clouds, and emerging from out off the darkness from the bar's gloomy interior, I am re-united with my gig-buddy from last year and all is well with the world. As the Straighten Out gig comes to an end, the narrow footpath outside is filled with Strangler fans as horn-ey cars and fart-y bikes rumble past - local pedestrians prefer to risk life and limb with the traffic rather than meddle with the nasty punksters ranting and raving about set lists and the oft heard cry of "No, don't tell me. I've been avoiding the Forum and Facebook". My fave couple siddle up to inform me 'my' film is on BBC tomorrow night - and they will be re-watching Good Vibrations on the telly. I remonstrate is not 'my' film (although later on after I was told several more times 'my' film was on TV and - after several more glasses of the amber nectar - I too was telling anyone who would listen that my film was on tomorrow night!!).
Scene 2 - THE WORLD'S END to THE ROUNDHOUSE
As the crowd thins out, it is time to make our way to the next watering hole and to one closer to tonight's venue. A bit of disagreement as to where to go, but the regular pub, The World's End gets the casting vote for me and Kath. After a short but potential head-banging tube trip, we disembark at Camden Station and cross to the chosen (next) meeting point. Once inside and after a quick sprint to the bar for the obiligatory repeat prescription of lager and cider, it was another conveyor belt of old faces and regular gig attendees. Adrian and Gunta, Paul and Rachael, Phil and Jane, Les (how did he get here!!) and Marie (oh how she'd changed!!) along with the rest of the Scottish lads - Jason, Red-Eye Ray, Alan et al. Dave, Pete, Matt. Owen and Jacqui, Gill (bridesmaid still-in-waiting), Brian, Pidge and so many more all catching up for the first time since the last tour.
As the time creeps closer to stage-time. we decide to dander up to the venue to catch The Rezillos support set. Unfortunately the alcohol levels affected time keeping and at the venue more meetings and catch ups meant we had missed all but the last five or six songs from the demented are go-go, top of the popsters. From what I heard I made a point of catching their complete set at some stage later on the tour - they were really kicking up a storm and Faye was dancing just like she did when I first saw them on TV back in the day. The be-quiffed Eugene was playing guitar on some tracks and the band's enthusiasm definitely had the crowd enraptured with their frenzied stage performance.
A break before the main act sanctioned another refreshment trip and allowed us time to pick a position where we could see the stage between the pillars of The Roundhouse arena. The lights dim and as we await the opening strains of Waltzinblack, we are barraged by the sound of marching feet and a shout of "Attention!!" screaming over the PA. The order for "Battalion commence" pre-empts a bastard son of the Waltzinblack theme - played by a military band with brass and drums - a suitable track for the band to march on-stage. As JJ and Baz are spotted entering stage left and right, the audience cheer in precision, and as the spotlights pick their targets, they launch into 'Longships'. The keyboards sound a bit tinny and from the talk pre-gig I had heard there had been problems with the keys at the previous gigs. However, just as on the album, this instrumental segues into 'The Raven' and all is forgiven. No hello London, no inter-song banter, just straight into the next song and then five songs into the set, the sheer delight and the product of mad men's minds booms out as 'Four Horsemen' is played to perfection. Rumours had been rife on social network pages that a radical list of songs had been rehearsed and after this song was followed by 'The Man They Love To Hate' with it's metronomic drum pattern and heavy bass reverb (albeit unfortunately offset by 'tinny' sounding keyboard runs), I knew this particular set list was going to be something special.
We knew Jet Black was going to make an appearance at some stage (as two drum kits were set up onstage) and after a couple more tracks, the great man himself clambered up onto the drum-stool. Chants of "Jet Black....Jet Black..." erupted all around and after acknowledging the plaudits the band started into another track from The Raven LP as 'Baroque Bordello' was played. As the slow drum beat to 'Golden Brown' began I would usually make for the nearest exit and a quick cigarette - but it is becoming rarer to see Jet drumming these days, so I remained and watched him complete four songs in total with the addition of 'Always The Sun' and a stunning version of 'Genetix'. Another fan favorite 'Time To Die' kicked off Jim Macauley's return to percussion duty. Straight into another couple of rarely heard classics, 'Nice In Nice' and 'Ice'.
As the iconic three bass notes of 'Peaches' reverberated fromm JJ's Shuker, I took this opportunity to pop outside for a well earned nicotine hit and met Jason who also commented on the problematic key patches. Re-entering the hall I got chatting to John Robb and hopefully helped to arrange a Membranes gig in Voodoo (if the dates can work out). Arriving back at my spot, I was just in time for 'Curfew' and the all time classic set closer 'Down In The Sewer'. JJ and Baz rat-walking to centre stage as the song then crescendo-ed to it's ultimate climax. A short break before the band came back for an encore consisting of 'Nice'n'Sleazy', 'Hanging Around' and 'No More Heroes'. JJ took the mic questioning those who said the Stranglers no longer had 'the balls' and Baz also referred to the lack of his normal mid-song ramblings. They were back - The Merchants Of Menace - The Stranglers were truly on form tonight. There was no Dad 'disco' dancing, no corny show biz banter and no drum solo during the encore (although this was an in-joke as a band initiation for Jim Mac). This is the way I lke to see this band - playing mean but enjoying the performance (if only the keyboard issues could be sorted out).
The house lights came up and it was all over. Leaving , we were seeing more faces from the past, greetings with Matt and Karlos, mega gig-goer Elaine and catching up for a chat with Dom Pilgrim (always a pleasure, never a chore). Outside, after a merch stall visit, yet more people who hadn't been seen pre-gig as we were all preparing to depart. Unsure whether to get something to eat, go for further drinks and even where that may be, perhaps discretion was the better part of valour and so decided to make for 'home' as it was an early start the next morning.
One down, roll on Birmingham.
An extra early start, getting up in the middle of the night, to ensure I get up to the airport in time for my flight for stage two of this year's Strangler Tour - I am sure this had something to do with my debacle of a security check.
I present.....
A COMEDY OF TERRORS
ACT 2 - BIRMINGHAM 14.03.15
Scene 1 - THE AIRPORT(s)
The taxi leaves me off at Belfast International around 05.15 allowing me plenty of time to go through Departures and still have a sneaky wee cigarette before entering the Terminal. Hand into pocket, only to find my new packet of 20 had fallen out - no doubt into the taxi door sill. Bollocks - Oh well. I pop into the airport shop and buy another packet (at a highly inflated price I might add) and exit for a quick draw on the devil's nipple. A couple of young ladies pass by and smile - that's nice - and one gives a sneaky wee look back over her shoulder. Stubbing out my butt, I head in and make my way to the snaking queue to get into the Departures lounge. Very friendly people this morning, more smiles and nods, as we double back on each other and I start to unlace my DMs, prepare my pockets to be emptied into the trays and take off my jacket.
I leave my hand luggage to go through the x-ray machine and I proceed to the scanning gate, only for the dreaded 'beep' to go off. Full body scan required and step out for a thorough search - I was half expecting the rubber glove and stand over a mirror routine!! All clear, but, when going to retrieve my luggage, the jobsworth security man decides to do a liquid check on my toiletries (all that there was). Toothpaste, shower gel, all sampled with litmus test strips. I eventually get the all clear - it was like being back in the good old, bad old days when we all had PTA checks. Anyway, I get past and after putting on my DMs, I stroll through the shopping area and out to the smoking area - needed one after that. The girls from outside are there and once again I'm greeted with smiles - yeah baby!! After finishing my smoke I pop into the toilets and discover why everyone had been smiling - my fly had been down the whole time ..... AAaaarrgh.
Eventually my red face returned to normal - probably about the same time as I was disembarking from the plane in Birmingham Airport - and made my way to the Skyrail platform. I jump on and ask if this goes to New Street. "No" - shit, I jump off and then I am told it takes us to the train station where another train takes you into New Street. OK. I jump back on feeling the quite stupid (nothing new there I hear you cry) but at least my zipper was intact this time.
It was far to early to check into the hotel, so I mossied around the shops, took a trip around the Museum and Art Gallery and had a spot of lunch in the square, before it was time to check in. A text from Kevin to arrange tinings of meet-up at The Railway Bar, and the second leg has started in earnest.
Scene 2 - THE RAILWAY BAR
Arriving at the selected pre-gig social I immediately bump into Keith and his good lady, as we enter the Railway Bar, there are already quite a gathering of Stranglophiles and the drinking begins in earnest. A boisterous rabbleinblack had already gathered enjoying the atmosphere and watching the 6 Nations egg-chasing competition on the telly-box. The Welsh Cosa Nostra were making their presence felt with Don Steve (Core)Maloney holding court, leading the others in victory as their team had beaten the meningreen earlier. Brian ’The Ska-Face’ leaving me in no doubt about the result as the dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty Isabella flew the flag of dragons. I sat with Kevin and caught up on the news, meeting old and new friends and acquaintances as more people arrived and were greeted into the growing black-itude. A chat with Paul and Rachael led to the promise of a RUDI CD to be picked up next week in Manchester. After the drinks had been flowing for some considerable time, it was deemed time to make our way to the O2 Academy, via a veritable rat’s maze (or so it seemed to me) of underground subways led dutifully by Kath to the venue.
Scene 2 - O2 ACADEMY
Inside, I had once again missed The Rezillos, but on reaching the bar saw they sold two pint glasses – result. Having missed being served by Pidges’ female doppelganger, Kath passed back the beer and I felt like a teenager as I held the huge tumbler of amber goodness with both hands to take the first sip. Before long, the strains of the ‘new’ intro song screamed out from the P.A. Once again starting with the instrumental ‘Longships’ segue-ing into the Nordic legend of ‘The Raven’. The rumour mill had informed me that some songs had been dropped from the set post-Roundhouse and I was disappointed when (especially) ‘TMTLTH’ was indeed missing from tonight’s show. We were treated to a more current ‘classic-in-waiting’ as the sound of waves sweeping onto the shore was picked out by Jim’s cymbal tickling and ‘Freedom Is Insane’ was played. ‘Norfolk Coast’ was also added this evening – a song I think should be sung by JJ rather than Baz – but another different track from last week, so I cannot really complain.
More like the recent greatest hits set-list tonight with only a smattering of rarer tracks maintained. We still had the brilliant 'Four Horsemen' with it's spell-binding eight note up and down riff and the keyboard issues seemed to have been sorted or adapted to allow the track to remain. 'Nice In Nice' sounded a lot better tonight as well.
The encores were also shaken up. The Baz-bandwagon ‘Walk On By’ letting the guitarist milk the audience appreciation was followed by ‘All Day…’. Low point of the gig for me (even though it allowed another ‘new’ song into the set-list) – I can understand why the band play it – but it really should be kept for Festival gigs rather than the Tour. They possess such a rich catalogue of their own songs which would easily have the same effect in closing the show. The obligatory thundering of JJ’s bass – yes indeed – we did feel it, heralded the show finale as the Shuker fretboard had it’s G-string work-out and ‘No More Heroes’ lifted the roof off. Lights up and the milling Family took photos and caught up again after another Strangl-athon, before returning to the bar for last orders.
Although the sound had definitely improved I was disappointed to see the return of the 'showbiz' side of the band - seemingly playing to the audience - not only with the set list but with the return of the... "Hello Birmingham, are you enjoying yer'sel?" and other inane mid song banter. And even though I got to hear four different tracks from London, one of them was 'All Day...' GROAN. A comedy of terrors indeed.
Scene 3 - THE RAILWAY RETURN
Once more the black mass rally back onto the streets of Birmingham and we scurry back to the watering hole of choice to further catch up and to discuss, disect and digest the set and the stories of the tonight's gig. Closing time led to some seeking further intoxication, some seeking food and others departing for home or their hotel. I declined the invitation for either liquid or solid sustenance and made my way back to my room for the evening, to crash and burn in front of the TV and a soft pillow to support my thumping head. Having a late flight home to Belfast meant I had an afternoon to kill in Birmingham – my hangover and subsequent late lie in, meant my planned trip to Dudley Zoo was a non-starter, but there was a Wildlife Conservation Park out Edgbaston way, so I navigated the suburban streets of leafy Brum until I eventually found myself wandering around an exotic collection of endangered animal life. Not the biggest or best menagerie I have ever encountered, but it filled in the afternoon and I did enjoy watching a male Ocelot completely demolish and devour a rabbit. Back into town for the train to the airport and my trip back home – hampered by delayed trains and back home the lack of transport infrastructure on a Belfast Sunday, meant I was getting back into the house near on 9 o’clock that night.
Two down, roll on Manchester.
Another early middle of the night start as today it’s The Stranglers in Manchester. Over recent years this has been the last night off the tour and by all reports an excellent venue but a new one to me – I had never set foot in Manchester previously - never even wanted to - the concept of it’s existence sickens me. But, it was the weekend, The Stranglers were in town and you can’t logically dislike bricks and mortar because of other preconceptions ingrained in your psyche.
But, on with the show.....
TWO GENTLEMEN ON THEIR-OWN-A
ACT 3 – MANCHESTER 21.03.15
Scene 1 – THE PARAMOUNT/THE OXFORD
Anyway, I arrived to a cold, bleak cityscape and, finding my bearings, made sure I could navigate to my hotel. As the sun broke through the clouds I sat and ate breakfast in the Alan Turing Memorial Gardens where a bronze statue of the man sat on a neighbouring bench. Still way too early book into the hotel, I figured I would check out the venue location and the selected bar for the pre-gig meet. As I walked down Oxford Road I noticed the Museum was open, so killing a few hours, I chose to feed the culture vulture inside me and further expanded my intellect, meandering along the exhibits and show cases on display – terminating with a full scale skeleton of a T.Rex .
By the time I had finished taking in the sights (and sounds) of the Museum and emerged back into daylight, it was near enough time to check into my chosen accommodation. Allowed to register early thanks to the campest receptionist (playing right up to some pre-determined Manc stereo-typing) I was ensconced in my room and having laid down on the bed to watch some TV,, dozed of immediately. Awakened by the roars of the rugby match, I realised it was fast approaching meet up time, so after a quick splash of water round the face and the re-lacing of my DMs, it was out the door and down to the pub.
I bumped into Pete & Dave along the way who informed me there was no-one in the pub, but some were up the road. I joined them and retraced my steps back from whence I had came, towards The Paramount Bar. Along the way we hook up with the incredible shrinking David (the 'oiler on the sea) who was waiting for Jase to put his lippy on and told them where we were heading. Outside was Bazza, so I chatted with him as we both had a smoke, and after that headed in to main atrium of the public house to be greeted by Keith, last of the mohiawks - Dave C - Phil and a few other faces. Bazza introduced me to his nephew Dean and did the honours at the bar. After a good chat regarding the pros and cons of SLF , some of us made our way towards The Oxford - the main meet up bar opposite the Academy.
By the time we arrived there was already a motley crew inside and before too long the drinks were flowing once more and this weekend’s ‘social’ began in earnest. The usual reprobates were scattered throughout the bar - Bernie, Elvis, Karlos and Anatoly (nice to put a face to the name) were tucking into pre-gig scran, Kath, Gill - bring 'em on - and other familiar faces, all a-buzz with pre-gig excitement. Outside as I got talking to Paul Cooklin about our past Strangling mischief journeying the length and breadth of the country and of absent friends, we were accosted by the animated duo Boz and Steve who contrary to popular belief, (apparently) can not take a photo with his phone. After much chat and frequently delivered glasses of alcoholic beverage, it seemed it must be time to cross the road as the bar area was becoming sparse of black T-shirts.
Scene 2 – THE ACADEMY
I nearly got knocked down crossing the road, but, all in one piece I entered the hall just as the Waltzinblack theme echo-ed around the room. The sell-out crowd allowed for little manoeuvre at this late stage, but I managed to squeeze through towards the mixing desk and took up residence just to the right hand barrier.
Tonight’s set list will be interesting methinks – will it be ‘hardcore’ or ‘festival soft’? The opening numbers run the same as before and remain along the same lines as the Birmingham gig. Jet makes his appearance, so at least we will be hearing ‘Baroque Bordello’ and ‘Genetix’ again. The sound was the best thus far with the high bass quality I like. ‘Dead Ringer’ makes it’s presence felt – therefore allowing me another ‘newbie’ and allowing the fans another hit of Dave’s eerie vocals – it really is good to hear more than one song per gig given the Greenfield growl. ‘Nice In Nice’ sounded really good although do we really need it to be introduced as “some jangly ‘80s pop” ?– NO, just get on and play it, thanks – we all know what it is. The audience were also treated to a full moon rat-arsed tattoo, as the roadie who came on to fix JJ’s mic (kicked off with a roundhouse kick mid-song) was called back by Baz to display his anal artwork to the crowd. This raised a cheer from the baying masses – but in reality I found it unnecessary and broke up the flow of the performance. For the last few songs I made my way forward to the edge of JJ's stage position - ‘Curfew’ and ‘Down In The Sewer’ saw a stunning performance from the band – all playing to the max and with an improved sound quality, this was a perfect climax to the show. The band exited stage left – Dave walking across the stage too – unusual to see he actually had legs!! The encores tonight were split into two sections. First up was ‘Peaches’ and ‘Walk On By’ – thankfully no ‘All Day…’ this evening and last but not least (after we saw Dave’s legs once more) the band came back to a rapturous rendition of ‘No More Heroes’. Once again we were exposed to inner organ reverberation from JJ before he began the lead bass riff intro to the traditional Strangler gig ending.
This was probably the best sounding of the three gigs I attended so far but as a performance, although really tight, did not come close to the set list I was treated to in London (even with it's encumbent audio issues).
Scene 3 THE OXFORD/BIG HANDS
Once more out into the streets after a post gig photo shoot front stage and the decision is made to return to the Oxford for even more liquid refreshment. Some new faces have joined the gang as the drinks flow thick and fast - the gig, the tour and the band are being dissected in minute detail by Spooner and Jase, with no holds are barred in the conclusions drawn. Topics raised on the Forum are commented on and no punches pulled. Back inside a depleted Welsh contingent were holding centre (table) court with one set of arthritic fingers struggling to hold the pint glass (too much karate and bass playing was the prognosis) and the Scottish Clan men were presiding over the bar. Elaine informed me I was going to Holmfirth, which was news to me, but Kevin had let her know he had booked hotel rooms and that meant I had to book flights and tickets for the July mini Tour….Oh dear :)
Closing time led to us all being ushered by Da Management towards the doors and eventually after much cajoling outside into the Manchester night. I had lost my gig guardian angel this evening and soon found myself waylaid by some bigger boys. A small club night in the nearby Big Hands bar soon had most of those left crammed inside and further drinks ordered. The music was a random mix of Northern Soul, 60s garage and a smattering of punky stuff – which all had us grooving along. Songs covered by The Purple Helmets had some of the company gyrating and singing along but the real stand out tune was The Stooges’ ‘Dirt’ – a real mind-fuck at that time of night. As the drink came in a never-ending stream and my round consisted of vodka, I knew it could end up being a messy one – however as John Buchanan and I were deep in discussion about the meat trade in 70s Belfast and the calibre of butchering around the Shankill – turning round, it appeared we were the last two men standing. Unsure of the time, we decided to leave but continued talking outside for another while, before making our separate ways (in opposite directions) to our hotels. After a ball-freezing stagger back up Oxford Road, I eventually found myself ‘home’ at 3.30 in the morning and the sanctuary of my bed.
Next morning after struggling through breakfast (and failing quite miserably) I checked out and found myself once more in the company of Alan Turing as I hoped the fresh air would settle my stomach and blow some cobwebs from my befuddled head. After an hour, I made my way round to the train station to begin the first leg of my journey home. On entering the station it was as if the concert hadn’t finished, as a mass of black T-shirts were congregating around the electronic timetables. Elvis, his brother and Karlos were playing up in front of time lapse photography, soon to be joined by Steve, Nicky, Pete and Elaine as the family were all making their own way home. Jacqui and Cathy popped up just as it was time for me to board my airport-bound train.
Another leg completed and the socials getting madder. Roll on Kilmarnock and Glasgow…..
The final weekend of the March On Tour and my feet feel as if I've walked every inch off it. The last two gigs of the tour beckon and once more nice and sleazy jet, as they have been renamed for this month only (in my head anyway), await to transport me once more into the breach dear friends once more, as I prepare to meet up with the battalioninblack for another campaign on foreign soil.
LES LABOUR'S LOST
ACT 4 – KILMARNOCK - 27.03.15
Scene 1 - THE WHEATSHEAF/FANNY'S BY GASLIGHT
I am sitting in Belfast International awaiting my flight over to Scotland and my mobile beeps to inform me I have a text. Didn't recognise the number so was about to delete it, but something told me it could be important - "Wotcher mate, got your number of..." A message from that rare and most elusive of Stranglophiles - Davy a.k.a. Alias - one of my oldest comrades from the BUT Site and forum freedom-fighter extrordinaire. After a couple of texts back and forth we arranged to meet up in Kilmarnock town centre at Fanny's By Gaslight across from the train station.
A short flight across The Irish Sea began my expedition into darkest, deepest Ayrshire and a bus from the airport got me to Glasgow Central train station for the next leg towards Kilmarnock. Early afternoon saw me trekking to the Hotel out by the Rugby and Football grounds, and on turning the corner was pleasantly surprised to see a state of the art 5-star hotel complex - a glass and metal engineered structure and was even more pleased when I entered my allocated room. I had paid a bit more than I would usually pay, but this was worth every penny - it was nicer than my own home!! Truly luxurious and even the en-suite was bigger than my bathroom. Quick turnaround and on the way back into town texted Alias to tell him I was on my way, to be informed he was in The Wheatsheaf. Having just past said hostelry, I told him to come out and meet. Emerging from the pub doors , the man himself greeted me and so started the next episode of pre-gig social drinky-poos.
Sitting pinting and talking music with Alias and his friend who informed me his last Strangler gig was during The Aural Sculpture Tour in 85 - jeez 30 years ago - and how there was an equipment fault during the gig - which as we reminised about other bands and other gigs, seemed a common occurence when he is in attendance. Along with some Strangler chat (where I nearly dropped a clanger re the set-list which had thus far been successfully avoided) involving the story as told by KT Tunstall about the Stranglers in Australia and the kangaroo with the tour T-shirt, some great Cramps stories were retold. We also covered topics ranging from last year's Strangler gig, curling up asleep at Neil Young gigs and the political and cultural usage of English and Gaelic signage . Between the three of us, the trip to the bar seemed non-stop and, of course, as the bladder filled up the necessary first trip (of many now the dam was burst) to the urinals was essential. On my way there I heard my name being called and turned to see Pat and her husband having lunch. Quick wee catch up with this great pair and then on to relieve myself - which by now was reaching critical meltdown. Returning I saw Katie (who had lost her parents but at this stage still had a bruise free nose) and further down the room, the not as big as he used to be, Davy with a few more T-shirted fans. They joined us at our table and the craic .
The coach load of fans travelling up from Glasgow were in touch - Bazza texting to see where we were and agreed to shift round to Fanny's . A short dander round the corner and we were once again meeting other fans, catching up, drinking and then drinking some more. This time I had decided I had to catch The Rezillos set - something Alias wanted to do also - so we left the packed gin emporium and were led across a car-park, through the bus station to The Palace Theatre and tonight's venue.
Scene 2 - THE PALACE THEATRE
Tickets checked and directed inside I was immediately reminded of The Ulster Hall back home (only smaller). The Grand Hall had the same balcony set up around the sides, encircling the rear - it was even painted the same colour!! The only thing missing was the organ pipes behind the stage. This early there was plenty of room for a wander round and with the lights still up I was able to seek out and find friends - especially those who take their station on the barrier stage-front. The girls were there, Matt, Dave and my fellow countryman Alastair - hugs and kisses (even the girls got some!!) and I moved back to the sound desk for my particular favourite standing position. Bumped into Paddy McL and told him I would be round at The 13th Note tomorrow afternoon for The Vex gig (but more about that later).
In position, I turn to see Rikki once more on sound duties - always good to see Mr Mac, for years he lived round the corner from me in Belfast - but just like Alastair, it takes a Stranglers gig for us to meet. The house lights go down and The Rezillos take the stage - a motorcycle helmeted guitarist, top hat wearing bassist and bald drummer commence the beat as Fay and Eugene enter, ready to kick up a storm. Their set takes us from the foot-stompin', drum- poundin' rhythm of 'Destination Venus' via the 'Groovy Room', through rivers deep and mountains high - interspersing tracks from the new 'Zero' album with classics from their debut LP. The energy never dips - Fay never stops dancing and shimmying front stage - a leather clad Eugene exuding retro sci-fi cool behind his trademark wraparound shades, sometimes adding guitar work to augment the cool (aural) sculptures they are making. Although the new songs are unfamiliar to me, the selection fits in well - 'Spike Steel Assassin' and 'The Boy From Outer Space' slot in neatly beside 'Flying Saucer Attack' and 'Cant Stand My Baby'. The crowd go frantic as 'Someones Gonna...' kicks in. All too soon it's over and after taking a justified applause the band exit.
I go to the merchandise stall to pick up a T-shirt I'd promised myself and a CD for a mate back home. Fay & Eugene make an appearance and I take the opportunity to get the inner sleeve signed for Brian. When thanking Fay she was very appreciative that I had travelled over from Belfast (pity it wasn't just to see youse lot!!). Merch bagged, I weaved my way through the ever-growing queue for the bar, back inside the hall - my place on the barrier at the sound-desk was still free. John Buchnan made his presence known and said we'll catch up at the end of show. This was not a sell-out - there was a fair room for manouvre and plenty of seats available in the balcony.
The Stranglers came on after the military band 'Waltzinblack' still echoed round the venue, being replaced by a rapturous cheer from the crowd. 'Longships' into 'The Raven', I don't think I will ever tire of hearing this. By the time JJ had kick-started 'Grip', it was obvious the sound quality was perfect - the acoustics of the hall allowed for a pitch perfect audio experience - it was definitely the best I had heard the band all tour. It was also obvious by only one drum-kit on stage that Jet would not be in attendance this evening - this was the first I would experience a total set with just Jim Macauley on percussion duties. By the time it came to the four song 'Jet set', 'Genetix' was replaced with 'Five Minutes' (another 'new' song I had yet to hear on the tour - excellent). Once more we were treated to 'show-Baz' as he greeted all the "lovely, lovely people" in *insert town* "Are you having a good time?" By now however, after a couple of gigs post Roundhouse, I was getting used to the routine banter - and after all there was probably a majority of paying punters who were attending their local gig and would be impressed with the sentiment - in fact maybe a fair few hardcore fans might enjoy this side of the band. Tonight I did notice the adapted selection of songs from the earlier sets, does allow Baz to become his dreamtime smalltown (guitar) hero - especially in tracks like 'Freedom Is Insane' and 'Walk On By'. The beginning to 'Lost Control' has now become Baz's chance to do his own extended solo intro - but tonight, this was eclipsed by JJ's bass - more powerful than the pre-Heroes intro. Even my kneecaps were vibrating with the power.
With the presence of my friend from The Wheatsheaf, it just had to happen. During the start of 'Time To Die', someone made a cock-up and they had to re-start the song. Afterwards JJ and Baz seemed to blame each other, although this would be an argument with only one outcome as Baz seemed to back-down.
Approaching the climax 'Dead Ringer' remained in the set - an absolute superb version of 'Curfew' led into the last song before the encores - once again the fan-fave 'Down In The Sewer' swept us all away. I took the opportunity to miss 'Walk On By' to escape outside for a smoke and as I stood chatting with other like minded nicotine addicts, I was able to say farewell to Alias, as he had to nick off early to catch the last train to Glasgow. We agreed to arrange meeting up again tomorrow before the O2 gig. I went back inside for 'No More Heroes' and afterwards approached the front once it was all over to catch up with everyone before we all headed home.
Scene 3 - PARADISE LOST
Standing outside, the busload back to Glasgow were amassing and I was about to walk on back to my hotel, when Les offered me a lift. This was an offer I couldn't refuse and as we walked the last straggler round to the coach (it just had to be Jase!!) we crossed to the ratmobile for the drive back. I knew where I was staying and how to walk there, but the town's one-way system fucked up my directional sense and Les, Budgy and myself realised we were 'lost'. The Sat-Nav told us we were going in the wrong direction and eventually we were pulling up outside the Football Stadium. It might have been the right address, but this was not where my hotel was. After a bit of good sense from Budgy, we drove around to the other side - and there it was. Phew!! Thanks guys for the lift (and the patience) getting me back.
Once I got inside my room and stripped. there were no sheep needing counting - the bed was so comfortable I practically sunk into the matress and off to sleep in seconds. The penultimate gig over.
Roll on Glasgow.....
It is no co-incidence that both Scotland and Northern Ireland have more synonyms for rain than any other part of the UK. This morning as I awoke in Kilmarnock it was bucketing it down. Normally I would have skipped breakfast, packed my bags and checked out well before the allotted time - but this morning, relaxing in the luxurious surroundings of my room - as the rain lashed and beat against the window - I wasn't going anywhere. However, as the clock ticked round towards departure time, the rain had gradually reduced to just a fime mizzle and as I was eventually evicted from the hotel, it had stopped completely - allowing me a dry walk round to the train station and my last journey to the last gig of the tour.
As the finale, it could only be......
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
ACT 5 - GLASGOW - 28.03.15
Scene 1 - THE 13th NOTE
Having arrived in Glasgae and booked into tonight's accommodation, I was back on shank's pony, roaming the damp and shower soaked streets trying to find The 13th Note Bar - typical of me tranversing the long way round. Eventually finding the bar, I walk in to see some old familiar faces already enjoying their choice of fermented hops and preparing for this afternoon's entertainment.
In a throw back to the London gig - the social meet in Glasgow will take in a band with links to The Stranglers, playing in a basement bar, performing to a group of friends. The now traditional pre-Strangler gig in Glasgow sees The Vex perform to a bunch of like-minded punk fans - as they, not only take on a varied selection of covers, but also play the complete track listing of their debut CD 'Songs Of Future Past'. Having said my hello's upstairs I venture down into the crypt, entering a packed room, with the band already in full flow. Shimmying through the crowd, I get a pint in and station myself beside the 'Norfolk Coast Quintet' as the band career through their three hour set. Of the many songs played - including a number of Strangler tunes - which the band adapt to their own inimitable style (mainly due to keyboard riffs played with guitar) - a number really stand out. The best versions are not the usual run of the mill covers - Magazine's 'Touch And Go', Gen X's 'Kiss Me Deadly', Siouxsie and the Banshees' 'Arabian Nights' and The Buzzcock's 'Harmony In My Head' brought a big grin to my face and a tapping to my toes. Clash, Ramones and The Pistols - even Blondie - all get The Vex treatment.
However, they are not a one-trick pony. Interpersed betwixt these tracks they play their owns songs - and although I am unfamiliar with these tracks, the opening strains of 'Open Gate' displays they are strong tunesmiths in their own right. There was no need for guitarist Gary to tell us his guitar hero was John McGeogh, as his influence was 'writ large' all over his guitar style, and Paddy's melodic basslines show a little hint to JJ's distinctive bass runs. After popping out a number of times for a sneaky wee cigarette, the crowd seemed bigger and tighter packed upon each return.
Gig over, I remained in the upstairs bar chatting with friends old and new. I was engrossed in conversation with Adrian, John and Pud, as past tales of Strangler adventures were relayed and John told us of his Manchester experience as we left each other outside The Big Hand - taxi for Buchanan!! As the time crept on, it was time to depart and meet up with those who did not attend The Vex, so Adrian and myself left to catch up with them.
Scene 2 - THE CRYSTAL PALACE
Walking the much shorter, more direct route (one I failed to traverse earlier), we entered The Crystal Palace Bar to a veritable mass of black T-shirts and once more were greeted by a plethora of people - many I had only just said farewell to the night before. Alias was already in residence with his lovely wife and we discussed their recent trip to Donegal and the North-West of Ulster. Then, talking to Alan over a couple of pints of Carlsberg I was introduced to his work-mate (and my namesake) with his wife Nichola - a Strangler virgin - both really looking forward to tonight's entertainment. As probably the best lager in the world flowed, I got engrossed in conversation with Graeme about football and the man he was named after. Some had already moved on - either to catch The Rezillos or to move to The Laurieston for another pre-gig meet - others remained as the weather had taken a turn for the worse and the rain had started pishing down once more.
Eventually it was time to make our move and so with hoodie up and Kath producing the smallest umbrella ever seen - we proceeded across the bridge over The Clyde River and the short(ish) walk on towards the O2 Apollo.
Scene 3 - THE O2 APOLLO
Arriving outside like drenched rats, we quickly went straight inside rather than mingle with those braving the elements and into the warmth and, more importantly for me, the dryness of the venue. We made our way through the already packed hall, forward to the left hand side, ending up about a few rows back from the stage.
The band came on stage after the Waltz-intro to a roar and stamping of feet from the now fully packed room - the atmosphere was elecrtic, fitting for the last show of the tour. The set followed the same listing as last night and by now I didn't mind Baz's mid-song diatribes and in fact his last roll call and thanks to the crew, support and especially Big Al, was quite a nice touch. It also allowed the crowd to get another peek at a rat-arsed Andy as he took a reverse bow, displaying a 'cheeky' vertical grin.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Musically tonight, the band were on top form - playing tighter than a Teddy Boy's hair-do and just as slick - playing fast and furious, the performance was peaking on this tour finale. From my viewing angle, I could see how hard the band were playing, as Baz leant over to play one particular guitar part, the perspiration was literally cascading of his bald pate and - as he thrust back for the power chord ending - it was like a scene from Raging Bull and he had taken a left hand roundhouse from Rocky Marciano - the beads of sweat arcing across the stage. Looking back now, this imagery had probably a lot to do with the wee 'toke' I was treated to outside on my 'Golden Brown' obligatory smoke break.
Up close to JJ's bass stack, the thunderous power on tracks like 'Norfolk Coast' and 'Lost Control' could be felt straight in your solar plexus, Jim seemed to be hitting the toms and kicking the bass drum harder than anytime before. Any of the middle-aged, sweating punks who might have pogo-ed themselves into a premature coronary, would immediately have had their failing hearts jump started again, as if directly defibrilated by pure sonic power. That is not to say that Dave's keyboard playing nor Baz's guitar shredding were no less important in tonight's overall performance. No cock ups, no mistakes (not that I heard anyway) - this was a fitting climax to see off the March On Tour.
For the first encore, it was once more the same two songs as Kilmarnock - and I was feeling a tad cheated that tonight of all nights, I was not going to hear an amended set list. As the four meninblack came back on and I prepared for the bass thumping intro to 'Heroes', they kicked into 'Go Buddy Go' - a surprising and totally unexpected addition. Fuckin' hell, the crowd boogie-woogied and shouted "two - three - four" in unision but, before we could all go home, we still had the inner organ rattling, crowd pleasing matter of set closer 'No More Heroes'.
And then it was all over. After a couple of post-gig photo shoots and a round of farewells to all those who I had shared the last month trekking around the country, following the band we all love, it was out the side fire exit into the continuing deluge of Glasgow precipitation. Ironically just like the song - we were all going home, I couldn't find (gig) bud, so I was leaving alone. However, rounding the corner to the front of the venue, I was re-united with Les and Budgy and a myriad of other known gigsters.
Scene 4 - THE SOU-WESTER TAVERN
We left with a few others and made our way city centre-ward , intending to go to The Laurieston for post-gig celebrations and further inebriation - but our knocking on the door fell on deaf ears inside. So it was into The Sou-Wester Tavern 100 yards up the road for a Strangler based karaoke session and a few more large glasses of lager. As big Alan Munro destroyed another tune, I popped outside and whilst chatting to Caroline, failing to shelter from the apparently endless downpour, last orders were called. This seemed like an appropriate time for me to take my leave and after refusing another lift offer from Les, I strode out heading back into town.
Scene 5 - HOME
Hands thrust deep in my pockets, and hood pulled tight over my head, I battled the wind and rain as I crossed the Clyde once more. As I looked over the side into the dark, gloomy water, my mind wandered and I thought about Dagenham Dave jumping off a bridge in London. Not that I was going to - but I wondered if I jumped would The Stranglers write a song about me - 'Glasgow Graeme' - probably not, seeing as "I'm not gonna cry, I bet he hit that water pished" doesn't quite have the same ring to it!!
Just as the rain began to ease up I found myself back at my hotel. I was just about to enter when a kebab shop caught my eye - that will do nicely to round off the night. Big mistake - as the state of my hotel room the next morning could testify - messy. Anyway, once packed and checked out, I began my final journey to the airport and back home. It was really nice of JJ to be there to see me off (I don't believe he was there to travel on to Nice as everyone else said). Quite a few other fans were there as well, all making their last travels back to civvy street now the batallioninblack had disbanded (for a while anyway).
And that was that - alls well that ends well. Roll on Belfast.
EPILOGUE - From the most exciting set-list in years (albeit plagued with sound and technical issues) performed for only the first few gigs on the tour right through to a more structured (but still ever changing) set, the March On Tour never failed to entertain. Thanks to all who made my five gigs in four weekends both eventful and enjoyable - you all know who you are. Fly straight with perfection and always keep it nice'n'sleazy.
Mully 03/04/15
Unlike the MeninOrange, stationary at Twadell Avenue, The MeninBlack are once again taking their traditional route - marching on - up and down the length and breadth of Britain, with die-hard followers treading the black foot as a multitude of DMs tramp along the Queen's Highways in support. The annual Stranglers' tour - a celebration of not only the band and their music, but also of the loyal familyinblack - the leather jacketed horde descending from far and near to invade the cities and towns listed on this year's tour poster.
Ladies and gentlefolks, let me introduce you to......
THE MERCHANTS OF MENACE
ACT 1 - LONDON 06.03.15
Scene 1 - The HOPE and ANCHOR - STRAIGHTEN OUT
After an uneventful journey from Belfast to London - via plane, train (overground and underground - but not a womble in sight) and on foot, I check into my accommodation for the night. Speedy turnaround and I wend my way to The Hope and Anchor pub in Islington for the newer tradition of a pre-gig social gathering with premier Strangler tribute act Straighten Out. This band play a classic set of mostly early period Strangler tunes, whetting the fans' appetite for the real thing later on that evening in The Roundhouse. I arrive after the band have already started only to be greeted in the bar by Alan and his brother Steve - so we soujourn to the seated exterior with liquid refreshment in hand to plot and plan further adventures and catch up on the gossip. I do manage after a while to pop my head downstairs - the music blasting and the packed room a mass of black bedecked bodies pogoing and singing along to accompany the band in full flow. The heat and humidity generated from the throng hits you square in the face, and rather than try and make it inside, I retrace my steps back out to the relative clamness of the London streets.
At various stages bedraggled, sweaty bodies emerge for some fresh air - some head back down, but others remain and the process of catching up with old friends begins. Soon a pair of highly polished ox-blood DMs appear beside me - a leather motorcycle jacket with a tartan scarf jauntily sticking out the pocket could only mean John Buchanan has arrived. Man hugs, another pint thrust into my hand and stories of the earlier tour gigs are regaled. In Guildford the night before he met a big guy from Donegal, or Bangor, or somewhere.... " D'ya know him?". It could only be Alastair who I know was attending both gigs and later on the man himself appears before us both - "Aye, that's him". Two punks from Ulster and the only time we socialise is at Strangler gigs across the Irish Sea!! More arrivals and soon, holding court at our table, the enfant terrible from Nottingham spouting devo-lution and other Spoonerisms. Les, smiling, beguiling - casting a shadow as tall as the steeples he climbs - joins the crowd and how can I refuse to take a photo of him betwixt the Finchleys.
As if pre-destined the clouds part, the sun (because there's always the sun) appears from behind the clouds, and emerging from out off the darkness from the bar's gloomy interior, I am re-united with my gig-buddy from last year and all is well with the world. As the Straighten Out gig comes to an end, the narrow footpath outside is filled with Strangler fans as horn-ey cars and fart-y bikes rumble past - local pedestrians prefer to risk life and limb with the traffic rather than meddle with the nasty punksters ranting and raving about set lists and the oft heard cry of "No, don't tell me. I've been avoiding the Forum and Facebook". My fave couple siddle up to inform me 'my' film is on BBC tomorrow night - and they will be re-watching Good Vibrations on the telly. I remonstrate is not 'my' film (although later on after I was told several more times 'my' film was on TV and - after several more glasses of the amber nectar - I too was telling anyone who would listen that my film was on tomorrow night!!).
Scene 2 - THE WORLD'S END to THE ROUNDHOUSE
As the crowd thins out, it is time to make our way to the next watering hole and to one closer to tonight's venue. A bit of disagreement as to where to go, but the regular pub, The World's End gets the casting vote for me and Kath. After a short but potential head-banging tube trip, we disembark at Camden Station and cross to the chosen (next) meeting point. Once inside and after a quick sprint to the bar for the obiligatory repeat prescription of lager and cider, it was another conveyor belt of old faces and regular gig attendees. Adrian and Gunta, Paul and Rachael, Phil and Jane, Les (how did he get here!!) and Marie (oh how she'd changed!!) along with the rest of the Scottish lads - Jason, Red-Eye Ray, Alan et al. Dave, Pete, Matt. Owen and Jacqui, Gill (bridesmaid still-in-waiting), Brian, Pidge and so many more all catching up for the first time since the last tour.
As the time creeps closer to stage-time. we decide to dander up to the venue to catch The Rezillos support set. Unfortunately the alcohol levels affected time keeping and at the venue more meetings and catch ups meant we had missed all but the last five or six songs from the demented are go-go, top of the popsters. From what I heard I made a point of catching their complete set at some stage later on the tour - they were really kicking up a storm and Faye was dancing just like she did when I first saw them on TV back in the day. The be-quiffed Eugene was playing guitar on some tracks and the band's enthusiasm definitely had the crowd enraptured with their frenzied stage performance.
A break before the main act sanctioned another refreshment trip and allowed us time to pick a position where we could see the stage between the pillars of The Roundhouse arena. The lights dim and as we await the opening strains of Waltzinblack, we are barraged by the sound of marching feet and a shout of "Attention!!" screaming over the PA. The order for "Battalion commence" pre-empts a bastard son of the Waltzinblack theme - played by a military band with brass and drums - a suitable track for the band to march on-stage. As JJ and Baz are spotted entering stage left and right, the audience cheer in precision, and as the spotlights pick their targets, they launch into 'Longships'. The keyboards sound a bit tinny and from the talk pre-gig I had heard there had been problems with the keys at the previous gigs. However, just as on the album, this instrumental segues into 'The Raven' and all is forgiven. No hello London, no inter-song banter, just straight into the next song and then five songs into the set, the sheer delight and the product of mad men's minds booms out as 'Four Horsemen' is played to perfection. Rumours had been rife on social network pages that a radical list of songs had been rehearsed and after this song was followed by 'The Man They Love To Hate' with it's metronomic drum pattern and heavy bass reverb (albeit unfortunately offset by 'tinny' sounding keyboard runs), I knew this particular set list was going to be something special.
We knew Jet Black was going to make an appearance at some stage (as two drum kits were set up onstage) and after a couple more tracks, the great man himself clambered up onto the drum-stool. Chants of "Jet Black....Jet Black..." erupted all around and after acknowledging the plaudits the band started into another track from The Raven LP as 'Baroque Bordello' was played. As the slow drum beat to 'Golden Brown' began I would usually make for the nearest exit and a quick cigarette - but it is becoming rarer to see Jet drumming these days, so I remained and watched him complete four songs in total with the addition of 'Always The Sun' and a stunning version of 'Genetix'. Another fan favorite 'Time To Die' kicked off Jim Macauley's return to percussion duty. Straight into another couple of rarely heard classics, 'Nice In Nice' and 'Ice'.
As the iconic three bass notes of 'Peaches' reverberated fromm JJ's Shuker, I took this opportunity to pop outside for a well earned nicotine hit and met Jason who also commented on the problematic key patches. Re-entering the hall I got chatting to John Robb and hopefully helped to arrange a Membranes gig in Voodoo (if the dates can work out). Arriving back at my spot, I was just in time for 'Curfew' and the all time classic set closer 'Down In The Sewer'. JJ and Baz rat-walking to centre stage as the song then crescendo-ed to it's ultimate climax. A short break before the band came back for an encore consisting of 'Nice'n'Sleazy', 'Hanging Around' and 'No More Heroes'. JJ took the mic questioning those who said the Stranglers no longer had 'the balls' and Baz also referred to the lack of his normal mid-song ramblings. They were back - The Merchants Of Menace - The Stranglers were truly on form tonight. There was no Dad 'disco' dancing, no corny show biz banter and no drum solo during the encore (although this was an in-joke as a band initiation for Jim Mac). This is the way I lke to see this band - playing mean but enjoying the performance (if only the keyboard issues could be sorted out).
The house lights came up and it was all over. Leaving , we were seeing more faces from the past, greetings with Matt and Karlos, mega gig-goer Elaine and catching up for a chat with Dom Pilgrim (always a pleasure, never a chore). Outside, after a merch stall visit, yet more people who hadn't been seen pre-gig as we were all preparing to depart. Unsure whether to get something to eat, go for further drinks and even where that may be, perhaps discretion was the better part of valour and so decided to make for 'home' as it was an early start the next morning.
One down, roll on Birmingham.
An extra early start, getting up in the middle of the night, to ensure I get up to the airport in time for my flight for stage two of this year's Strangler Tour - I am sure this had something to do with my debacle of a security check.
I present.....
A COMEDY OF TERRORS
ACT 2 - BIRMINGHAM 14.03.15
Scene 1 - THE AIRPORT(s)
The taxi leaves me off at Belfast International around 05.15 allowing me plenty of time to go through Departures and still have a sneaky wee cigarette before entering the Terminal. Hand into pocket, only to find my new packet of 20 had fallen out - no doubt into the taxi door sill. Bollocks - Oh well. I pop into the airport shop and buy another packet (at a highly inflated price I might add) and exit for a quick draw on the devil's nipple. A couple of young ladies pass by and smile - that's nice - and one gives a sneaky wee look back over her shoulder. Stubbing out my butt, I head in and make my way to the snaking queue to get into the Departures lounge. Very friendly people this morning, more smiles and nods, as we double back on each other and I start to unlace my DMs, prepare my pockets to be emptied into the trays and take off my jacket.
I leave my hand luggage to go through the x-ray machine and I proceed to the scanning gate, only for the dreaded 'beep' to go off. Full body scan required and step out for a thorough search - I was half expecting the rubber glove and stand over a mirror routine!! All clear, but, when going to retrieve my luggage, the jobsworth security man decides to do a liquid check on my toiletries (all that there was). Toothpaste, shower gel, all sampled with litmus test strips. I eventually get the all clear - it was like being back in the good old, bad old days when we all had PTA checks. Anyway, I get past and after putting on my DMs, I stroll through the shopping area and out to the smoking area - needed one after that. The girls from outside are there and once again I'm greeted with smiles - yeah baby!! After finishing my smoke I pop into the toilets and discover why everyone had been smiling - my fly had been down the whole time ..... AAaaarrgh.
Eventually my red face returned to normal - probably about the same time as I was disembarking from the plane in Birmingham Airport - and made my way to the Skyrail platform. I jump on and ask if this goes to New Street. "No" - shit, I jump off and then I am told it takes us to the train station where another train takes you into New Street. OK. I jump back on feeling the quite stupid (nothing new there I hear you cry) but at least my zipper was intact this time.
It was far to early to check into the hotel, so I mossied around the shops, took a trip around the Museum and Art Gallery and had a spot of lunch in the square, before it was time to check in. A text from Kevin to arrange tinings of meet-up at The Railway Bar, and the second leg has started in earnest.
Scene 2 - THE RAILWAY BAR
Arriving at the selected pre-gig social I immediately bump into Keith and his good lady, as we enter the Railway Bar, there are already quite a gathering of Stranglophiles and the drinking begins in earnest. A boisterous rabbleinblack had already gathered enjoying the atmosphere and watching the 6 Nations egg-chasing competition on the telly-box. The Welsh Cosa Nostra were making their presence felt with Don Steve (Core)Maloney holding court, leading the others in victory as their team had beaten the meningreen earlier. Brian ’The Ska-Face’ leaving me in no doubt about the result as the dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty Isabella flew the flag of dragons. I sat with Kevin and caught up on the news, meeting old and new friends and acquaintances as more people arrived and were greeted into the growing black-itude. A chat with Paul and Rachael led to the promise of a RUDI CD to be picked up next week in Manchester. After the drinks had been flowing for some considerable time, it was deemed time to make our way to the O2 Academy, via a veritable rat’s maze (or so it seemed to me) of underground subways led dutifully by Kath to the venue.
Scene 2 - O2 ACADEMY
Inside, I had once again missed The Rezillos, but on reaching the bar saw they sold two pint glasses – result. Having missed being served by Pidges’ female doppelganger, Kath passed back the beer and I felt like a teenager as I held the huge tumbler of amber goodness with both hands to take the first sip. Before long, the strains of the ‘new’ intro song screamed out from the P.A. Once again starting with the instrumental ‘Longships’ segue-ing into the Nordic legend of ‘The Raven’. The rumour mill had informed me that some songs had been dropped from the set post-Roundhouse and I was disappointed when (especially) ‘TMTLTH’ was indeed missing from tonight’s show. We were treated to a more current ‘classic-in-waiting’ as the sound of waves sweeping onto the shore was picked out by Jim’s cymbal tickling and ‘Freedom Is Insane’ was played. ‘Norfolk Coast’ was also added this evening – a song I think should be sung by JJ rather than Baz – but another different track from last week, so I cannot really complain.
More like the recent greatest hits set-list tonight with only a smattering of rarer tracks maintained. We still had the brilliant 'Four Horsemen' with it's spell-binding eight note up and down riff and the keyboard issues seemed to have been sorted or adapted to allow the track to remain. 'Nice In Nice' sounded a lot better tonight as well.
The encores were also shaken up. The Baz-bandwagon ‘Walk On By’ letting the guitarist milk the audience appreciation was followed by ‘All Day…’. Low point of the gig for me (even though it allowed another ‘new’ song into the set-list) – I can understand why the band play it – but it really should be kept for Festival gigs rather than the Tour. They possess such a rich catalogue of their own songs which would easily have the same effect in closing the show. The obligatory thundering of JJ’s bass – yes indeed – we did feel it, heralded the show finale as the Shuker fretboard had it’s G-string work-out and ‘No More Heroes’ lifted the roof off. Lights up and the milling Family took photos and caught up again after another Strangl-athon, before returning to the bar for last orders.
Although the sound had definitely improved I was disappointed to see the return of the 'showbiz' side of the band - seemingly playing to the audience - not only with the set list but with the return of the... "Hello Birmingham, are you enjoying yer'sel?" and other inane mid song banter. And even though I got to hear four different tracks from London, one of them was 'All Day...' GROAN. A comedy of terrors indeed.
Scene 3 - THE RAILWAY RETURN
Once more the black mass rally back onto the streets of Birmingham and we scurry back to the watering hole of choice to further catch up and to discuss, disect and digest the set and the stories of the tonight's gig. Closing time led to some seeking further intoxication, some seeking food and others departing for home or their hotel. I declined the invitation for either liquid or solid sustenance and made my way back to my room for the evening, to crash and burn in front of the TV and a soft pillow to support my thumping head. Having a late flight home to Belfast meant I had an afternoon to kill in Birmingham – my hangover and subsequent late lie in, meant my planned trip to Dudley Zoo was a non-starter, but there was a Wildlife Conservation Park out Edgbaston way, so I navigated the suburban streets of leafy Brum until I eventually found myself wandering around an exotic collection of endangered animal life. Not the biggest or best menagerie I have ever encountered, but it filled in the afternoon and I did enjoy watching a male Ocelot completely demolish and devour a rabbit. Back into town for the train to the airport and my trip back home – hampered by delayed trains and back home the lack of transport infrastructure on a Belfast Sunday, meant I was getting back into the house near on 9 o’clock that night.
Two down, roll on Manchester.
Another early middle of the night start as today it’s The Stranglers in Manchester. Over recent years this has been the last night off the tour and by all reports an excellent venue but a new one to me – I had never set foot in Manchester previously - never even wanted to - the concept of it’s existence sickens me. But, it was the weekend, The Stranglers were in town and you can’t logically dislike bricks and mortar because of other preconceptions ingrained in your psyche.
But, on with the show.....
TWO GENTLEMEN ON THEIR-OWN-A
ACT 3 – MANCHESTER 21.03.15
Scene 1 – THE PARAMOUNT/THE OXFORD
Anyway, I arrived to a cold, bleak cityscape and, finding my bearings, made sure I could navigate to my hotel. As the sun broke through the clouds I sat and ate breakfast in the Alan Turing Memorial Gardens where a bronze statue of the man sat on a neighbouring bench. Still way too early book into the hotel, I figured I would check out the venue location and the selected bar for the pre-gig meet. As I walked down Oxford Road I noticed the Museum was open, so killing a few hours, I chose to feed the culture vulture inside me and further expanded my intellect, meandering along the exhibits and show cases on display – terminating with a full scale skeleton of a T.Rex .
By the time I had finished taking in the sights (and sounds) of the Museum and emerged back into daylight, it was near enough time to check into my chosen accommodation. Allowed to register early thanks to the campest receptionist (playing right up to some pre-determined Manc stereo-typing) I was ensconced in my room and having laid down on the bed to watch some TV,, dozed of immediately. Awakened by the roars of the rugby match, I realised it was fast approaching meet up time, so after a quick splash of water round the face and the re-lacing of my DMs, it was out the door and down to the pub.
I bumped into Pete & Dave along the way who informed me there was no-one in the pub, but some were up the road. I joined them and retraced my steps back from whence I had came, towards The Paramount Bar. Along the way we hook up with the incredible shrinking David (the 'oiler on the sea) who was waiting for Jase to put his lippy on and told them where we were heading. Outside was Bazza, so I chatted with him as we both had a smoke, and after that headed in to main atrium of the public house to be greeted by Keith, last of the mohiawks - Dave C - Phil and a few other faces. Bazza introduced me to his nephew Dean and did the honours at the bar. After a good chat regarding the pros and cons of SLF , some of us made our way towards The Oxford - the main meet up bar opposite the Academy.
By the time we arrived there was already a motley crew inside and before too long the drinks were flowing once more and this weekend’s ‘social’ began in earnest. The usual reprobates were scattered throughout the bar - Bernie, Elvis, Karlos and Anatoly (nice to put a face to the name) were tucking into pre-gig scran, Kath, Gill - bring 'em on - and other familiar faces, all a-buzz with pre-gig excitement. Outside as I got talking to Paul Cooklin about our past Strangling mischief journeying the length and breadth of the country and of absent friends, we were accosted by the animated duo Boz and Steve who contrary to popular belief, (apparently) can not take a photo with his phone. After much chat and frequently delivered glasses of alcoholic beverage, it seemed it must be time to cross the road as the bar area was becoming sparse of black T-shirts.
Scene 2 – THE ACADEMY
I nearly got knocked down crossing the road, but, all in one piece I entered the hall just as the Waltzinblack theme echo-ed around the room. The sell-out crowd allowed for little manoeuvre at this late stage, but I managed to squeeze through towards the mixing desk and took up residence just to the right hand barrier.
Tonight’s set list will be interesting methinks – will it be ‘hardcore’ or ‘festival soft’? The opening numbers run the same as before and remain along the same lines as the Birmingham gig. Jet makes his appearance, so at least we will be hearing ‘Baroque Bordello’ and ‘Genetix’ again. The sound was the best thus far with the high bass quality I like. ‘Dead Ringer’ makes it’s presence felt – therefore allowing me another ‘newbie’ and allowing the fans another hit of Dave’s eerie vocals – it really is good to hear more than one song per gig given the Greenfield growl. ‘Nice In Nice’ sounded really good although do we really need it to be introduced as “some jangly ‘80s pop” ?– NO, just get on and play it, thanks – we all know what it is. The audience were also treated to a full moon rat-arsed tattoo, as the roadie who came on to fix JJ’s mic (kicked off with a roundhouse kick mid-song) was called back by Baz to display his anal artwork to the crowd. This raised a cheer from the baying masses – but in reality I found it unnecessary and broke up the flow of the performance. For the last few songs I made my way forward to the edge of JJ's stage position - ‘Curfew’ and ‘Down In The Sewer’ saw a stunning performance from the band – all playing to the max and with an improved sound quality, this was a perfect climax to the show. The band exited stage left – Dave walking across the stage too – unusual to see he actually had legs!! The encores tonight were split into two sections. First up was ‘Peaches’ and ‘Walk On By’ – thankfully no ‘All Day…’ this evening and last but not least (after we saw Dave’s legs once more) the band came back to a rapturous rendition of ‘No More Heroes’. Once again we were exposed to inner organ reverberation from JJ before he began the lead bass riff intro to the traditional Strangler gig ending.
This was probably the best sounding of the three gigs I attended so far but as a performance, although really tight, did not come close to the set list I was treated to in London (even with it's encumbent audio issues).
Scene 3 THE OXFORD/BIG HANDS
Once more out into the streets after a post gig photo shoot front stage and the decision is made to return to the Oxford for even more liquid refreshment. Some new faces have joined the gang as the drinks flow thick and fast - the gig, the tour and the band are being dissected in minute detail by Spooner and Jase, with no holds are barred in the conclusions drawn. Topics raised on the Forum are commented on and no punches pulled. Back inside a depleted Welsh contingent were holding centre (table) court with one set of arthritic fingers struggling to hold the pint glass (too much karate and bass playing was the prognosis) and the Scottish Clan men were presiding over the bar. Elaine informed me I was going to Holmfirth, which was news to me, but Kevin had let her know he had booked hotel rooms and that meant I had to book flights and tickets for the July mini Tour….Oh dear :)
Closing time led to us all being ushered by Da Management towards the doors and eventually after much cajoling outside into the Manchester night. I had lost my gig guardian angel this evening and soon found myself waylaid by some bigger boys. A small club night in the nearby Big Hands bar soon had most of those left crammed inside and further drinks ordered. The music was a random mix of Northern Soul, 60s garage and a smattering of punky stuff – which all had us grooving along. Songs covered by The Purple Helmets had some of the company gyrating and singing along but the real stand out tune was The Stooges’ ‘Dirt’ – a real mind-fuck at that time of night. As the drink came in a never-ending stream and my round consisted of vodka, I knew it could end up being a messy one – however as John Buchanan and I were deep in discussion about the meat trade in 70s Belfast and the calibre of butchering around the Shankill – turning round, it appeared we were the last two men standing. Unsure of the time, we decided to leave but continued talking outside for another while, before making our separate ways (in opposite directions) to our hotels. After a ball-freezing stagger back up Oxford Road, I eventually found myself ‘home’ at 3.30 in the morning and the sanctuary of my bed.
Next morning after struggling through breakfast (and failing quite miserably) I checked out and found myself once more in the company of Alan Turing as I hoped the fresh air would settle my stomach and blow some cobwebs from my befuddled head. After an hour, I made my way round to the train station to begin the first leg of my journey home. On entering the station it was as if the concert hadn’t finished, as a mass of black T-shirts were congregating around the electronic timetables. Elvis, his brother and Karlos were playing up in front of time lapse photography, soon to be joined by Steve, Nicky, Pete and Elaine as the family were all making their own way home. Jacqui and Cathy popped up just as it was time for me to board my airport-bound train.
Another leg completed and the socials getting madder. Roll on Kilmarnock and Glasgow…..
The final weekend of the March On Tour and my feet feel as if I've walked every inch off it. The last two gigs of the tour beckon and once more nice and sleazy jet, as they have been renamed for this month only (in my head anyway), await to transport me once more into the breach dear friends once more, as I prepare to meet up with the battalioninblack for another campaign on foreign soil.
LES LABOUR'S LOST
ACT 4 – KILMARNOCK - 27.03.15
Scene 1 - THE WHEATSHEAF/FANNY'S BY GASLIGHT
I am sitting in Belfast International awaiting my flight over to Scotland and my mobile beeps to inform me I have a text. Didn't recognise the number so was about to delete it, but something told me it could be important - "Wotcher mate, got your number of..." A message from that rare and most elusive of Stranglophiles - Davy a.k.a. Alias - one of my oldest comrades from the BUT Site and forum freedom-fighter extrordinaire. After a couple of texts back and forth we arranged to meet up in Kilmarnock town centre at Fanny's By Gaslight across from the train station.
A short flight across The Irish Sea began my expedition into darkest, deepest Ayrshire and a bus from the airport got me to Glasgow Central train station for the next leg towards Kilmarnock. Early afternoon saw me trekking to the Hotel out by the Rugby and Football grounds, and on turning the corner was pleasantly surprised to see a state of the art 5-star hotel complex - a glass and metal engineered structure and was even more pleased when I entered my allocated room. I had paid a bit more than I would usually pay, but this was worth every penny - it was nicer than my own home!! Truly luxurious and even the en-suite was bigger than my bathroom. Quick turnaround and on the way back into town texted Alias to tell him I was on my way, to be informed he was in The Wheatsheaf. Having just past said hostelry, I told him to come out and meet. Emerging from the pub doors , the man himself greeted me and so started the next episode of pre-gig social drinky-poos.
Sitting pinting and talking music with Alias and his friend who informed me his last Strangler gig was during The Aural Sculpture Tour in 85 - jeez 30 years ago - and how there was an equipment fault during the gig - which as we reminised about other bands and other gigs, seemed a common occurence when he is in attendance. Along with some Strangler chat (where I nearly dropped a clanger re the set-list which had thus far been successfully avoided) involving the story as told by KT Tunstall about the Stranglers in Australia and the kangaroo with the tour T-shirt, some great Cramps stories were retold. We also covered topics ranging from last year's Strangler gig, curling up asleep at Neil Young gigs and the political and cultural usage of English and Gaelic signage . Between the three of us, the trip to the bar seemed non-stop and, of course, as the bladder filled up the necessary first trip (of many now the dam was burst) to the urinals was essential. On my way there I heard my name being called and turned to see Pat and her husband having lunch. Quick wee catch up with this great pair and then on to relieve myself - which by now was reaching critical meltdown. Returning I saw Katie (who had lost her parents but at this stage still had a bruise free nose) and further down the room, the not as big as he used to be, Davy with a few more T-shirted fans. They joined us at our table and the craic .
The coach load of fans travelling up from Glasgow were in touch - Bazza texting to see where we were and agreed to shift round to Fanny's . A short dander round the corner and we were once again meeting other fans, catching up, drinking and then drinking some more. This time I had decided I had to catch The Rezillos set - something Alias wanted to do also - so we left the packed gin emporium and were led across a car-park, through the bus station to The Palace Theatre and tonight's venue.
Scene 2 - THE PALACE THEATRE
Tickets checked and directed inside I was immediately reminded of The Ulster Hall back home (only smaller). The Grand Hall had the same balcony set up around the sides, encircling the rear - it was even painted the same colour!! The only thing missing was the organ pipes behind the stage. This early there was plenty of room for a wander round and with the lights still up I was able to seek out and find friends - especially those who take their station on the barrier stage-front. The girls were there, Matt, Dave and my fellow countryman Alastair - hugs and kisses (even the girls got some!!) and I moved back to the sound desk for my particular favourite standing position. Bumped into Paddy McL and told him I would be round at The 13th Note tomorrow afternoon for The Vex gig (but more about that later).
In position, I turn to see Rikki once more on sound duties - always good to see Mr Mac, for years he lived round the corner from me in Belfast - but just like Alastair, it takes a Stranglers gig for us to meet. The house lights go down and The Rezillos take the stage - a motorcycle helmeted guitarist, top hat wearing bassist and bald drummer commence the beat as Fay and Eugene enter, ready to kick up a storm. Their set takes us from the foot-stompin', drum- poundin' rhythm of 'Destination Venus' via the 'Groovy Room', through rivers deep and mountains high - interspersing tracks from the new 'Zero' album with classics from their debut LP. The energy never dips - Fay never stops dancing and shimmying front stage - a leather clad Eugene exuding retro sci-fi cool behind his trademark wraparound shades, sometimes adding guitar work to augment the cool (aural) sculptures they are making. Although the new songs are unfamiliar to me, the selection fits in well - 'Spike Steel Assassin' and 'The Boy From Outer Space' slot in neatly beside 'Flying Saucer Attack' and 'Cant Stand My Baby'. The crowd go frantic as 'Someones Gonna...' kicks in. All too soon it's over and after taking a justified applause the band exit.
I go to the merchandise stall to pick up a T-shirt I'd promised myself and a CD for a mate back home. Fay & Eugene make an appearance and I take the opportunity to get the inner sleeve signed for Brian. When thanking Fay she was very appreciative that I had travelled over from Belfast (pity it wasn't just to see youse lot!!). Merch bagged, I weaved my way through the ever-growing queue for the bar, back inside the hall - my place on the barrier at the sound-desk was still free. John Buchnan made his presence known and said we'll catch up at the end of show. This was not a sell-out - there was a fair room for manouvre and plenty of seats available in the balcony.
The Stranglers came on after the military band 'Waltzinblack' still echoed round the venue, being replaced by a rapturous cheer from the crowd. 'Longships' into 'The Raven', I don't think I will ever tire of hearing this. By the time JJ had kick-started 'Grip', it was obvious the sound quality was perfect - the acoustics of the hall allowed for a pitch perfect audio experience - it was definitely the best I had heard the band all tour. It was also obvious by only one drum-kit on stage that Jet would not be in attendance this evening - this was the first I would experience a total set with just Jim Macauley on percussion duties. By the time it came to the four song 'Jet set', 'Genetix' was replaced with 'Five Minutes' (another 'new' song I had yet to hear on the tour - excellent). Once more we were treated to 'show-Baz' as he greeted all the "lovely, lovely people" in *insert town* "Are you having a good time?" By now however, after a couple of gigs post Roundhouse, I was getting used to the routine banter - and after all there was probably a majority of paying punters who were attending their local gig and would be impressed with the sentiment - in fact maybe a fair few hardcore fans might enjoy this side of the band. Tonight I did notice the adapted selection of songs from the earlier sets, does allow Baz to become his dreamtime smalltown (guitar) hero - especially in tracks like 'Freedom Is Insane' and 'Walk On By'. The beginning to 'Lost Control' has now become Baz's chance to do his own extended solo intro - but tonight, this was eclipsed by JJ's bass - more powerful than the pre-Heroes intro. Even my kneecaps were vibrating with the power.
With the presence of my friend from The Wheatsheaf, it just had to happen. During the start of 'Time To Die', someone made a cock-up and they had to re-start the song. Afterwards JJ and Baz seemed to blame each other, although this would be an argument with only one outcome as Baz seemed to back-down.
Approaching the climax 'Dead Ringer' remained in the set - an absolute superb version of 'Curfew' led into the last song before the encores - once again the fan-fave 'Down In The Sewer' swept us all away. I took the opportunity to miss 'Walk On By' to escape outside for a smoke and as I stood chatting with other like minded nicotine addicts, I was able to say farewell to Alias, as he had to nick off early to catch the last train to Glasgow. We agreed to arrange meeting up again tomorrow before the O2 gig. I went back inside for 'No More Heroes' and afterwards approached the front once it was all over to catch up with everyone before we all headed home.
Scene 3 - PARADISE LOST
Standing outside, the busload back to Glasgow were amassing and I was about to walk on back to my hotel, when Les offered me a lift. This was an offer I couldn't refuse and as we walked the last straggler round to the coach (it just had to be Jase!!) we crossed to the ratmobile for the drive back. I knew where I was staying and how to walk there, but the town's one-way system fucked up my directional sense and Les, Budgy and myself realised we were 'lost'. The Sat-Nav told us we were going in the wrong direction and eventually we were pulling up outside the Football Stadium. It might have been the right address, but this was not where my hotel was. After a bit of good sense from Budgy, we drove around to the other side - and there it was. Phew!! Thanks guys for the lift (and the patience) getting me back.
Once I got inside my room and stripped. there were no sheep needing counting - the bed was so comfortable I practically sunk into the matress and off to sleep in seconds. The penultimate gig over.
Roll on Glasgow.....
It is no co-incidence that both Scotland and Northern Ireland have more synonyms for rain than any other part of the UK. This morning as I awoke in Kilmarnock it was bucketing it down. Normally I would have skipped breakfast, packed my bags and checked out well before the allotted time - but this morning, relaxing in the luxurious surroundings of my room - as the rain lashed and beat against the window - I wasn't going anywhere. However, as the clock ticked round towards departure time, the rain had gradually reduced to just a fime mizzle and as I was eventually evicted from the hotel, it had stopped completely - allowing me a dry walk round to the train station and my last journey to the last gig of the tour.
As the finale, it could only be......
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
ACT 5 - GLASGOW - 28.03.15
Scene 1 - THE 13th NOTE
Having arrived in Glasgae and booked into tonight's accommodation, I was back on shank's pony, roaming the damp and shower soaked streets trying to find The 13th Note Bar - typical of me tranversing the long way round. Eventually finding the bar, I walk in to see some old familiar faces already enjoying their choice of fermented hops and preparing for this afternoon's entertainment.
In a throw back to the London gig - the social meet in Glasgow will take in a band with links to The Stranglers, playing in a basement bar, performing to a group of friends. The now traditional pre-Strangler gig in Glasgow sees The Vex perform to a bunch of like-minded punk fans - as they, not only take on a varied selection of covers, but also play the complete track listing of their debut CD 'Songs Of Future Past'. Having said my hello's upstairs I venture down into the crypt, entering a packed room, with the band already in full flow. Shimmying through the crowd, I get a pint in and station myself beside the 'Norfolk Coast Quintet' as the band career through their three hour set. Of the many songs played - including a number of Strangler tunes - which the band adapt to their own inimitable style (mainly due to keyboard riffs played with guitar) - a number really stand out. The best versions are not the usual run of the mill covers - Magazine's 'Touch And Go', Gen X's 'Kiss Me Deadly', Siouxsie and the Banshees' 'Arabian Nights' and The Buzzcock's 'Harmony In My Head' brought a big grin to my face and a tapping to my toes. Clash, Ramones and The Pistols - even Blondie - all get The Vex treatment.
However, they are not a one-trick pony. Interpersed betwixt these tracks they play their owns songs - and although I am unfamiliar with these tracks, the opening strains of 'Open Gate' displays they are strong tunesmiths in their own right. There was no need for guitarist Gary to tell us his guitar hero was John McGeogh, as his influence was 'writ large' all over his guitar style, and Paddy's melodic basslines show a little hint to JJ's distinctive bass runs. After popping out a number of times for a sneaky wee cigarette, the crowd seemed bigger and tighter packed upon each return.
Gig over, I remained in the upstairs bar chatting with friends old and new. I was engrossed in conversation with Adrian, John and Pud, as past tales of Strangler adventures were relayed and John told us of his Manchester experience as we left each other outside The Big Hand - taxi for Buchanan!! As the time crept on, it was time to depart and meet up with those who did not attend The Vex, so Adrian and myself left to catch up with them.
Scene 2 - THE CRYSTAL PALACE
Walking the much shorter, more direct route (one I failed to traverse earlier), we entered The Crystal Palace Bar to a veritable mass of black T-shirts and once more were greeted by a plethora of people - many I had only just said farewell to the night before. Alias was already in residence with his lovely wife and we discussed their recent trip to Donegal and the North-West of Ulster. Then, talking to Alan over a couple of pints of Carlsberg I was introduced to his work-mate (and my namesake) with his wife Nichola - a Strangler virgin - both really looking forward to tonight's entertainment. As probably the best lager in the world flowed, I got engrossed in conversation with Graeme about football and the man he was named after. Some had already moved on - either to catch The Rezillos or to move to The Laurieston for another pre-gig meet - others remained as the weather had taken a turn for the worse and the rain had started pishing down once more.
Eventually it was time to make our move and so with hoodie up and Kath producing the smallest umbrella ever seen - we proceeded across the bridge over The Clyde River and the short(ish) walk on towards the O2 Apollo.
Scene 3 - THE O2 APOLLO
Arriving outside like drenched rats, we quickly went straight inside rather than mingle with those braving the elements and into the warmth and, more importantly for me, the dryness of the venue. We made our way through the already packed hall, forward to the left hand side, ending up about a few rows back from the stage.
The band came on stage after the Waltz-intro to a roar and stamping of feet from the now fully packed room - the atmosphere was elecrtic, fitting for the last show of the tour. The set followed the same listing as last night and by now I didn't mind Baz's mid-song diatribes and in fact his last roll call and thanks to the crew, support and especially Big Al, was quite a nice touch. It also allowed the crowd to get another peek at a rat-arsed Andy as he took a reverse bow, displaying a 'cheeky' vertical grin.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Musically tonight, the band were on top form - playing tighter than a Teddy Boy's hair-do and just as slick - playing fast and furious, the performance was peaking on this tour finale. From my viewing angle, I could see how hard the band were playing, as Baz leant over to play one particular guitar part, the perspiration was literally cascading of his bald pate and - as he thrust back for the power chord ending - it was like a scene from Raging Bull and he had taken a left hand roundhouse from Rocky Marciano - the beads of sweat arcing across the stage. Looking back now, this imagery had probably a lot to do with the wee 'toke' I was treated to outside on my 'Golden Brown' obligatory smoke break.
Up close to JJ's bass stack, the thunderous power on tracks like 'Norfolk Coast' and 'Lost Control' could be felt straight in your solar plexus, Jim seemed to be hitting the toms and kicking the bass drum harder than anytime before. Any of the middle-aged, sweating punks who might have pogo-ed themselves into a premature coronary, would immediately have had their failing hearts jump started again, as if directly defibrilated by pure sonic power. That is not to say that Dave's keyboard playing nor Baz's guitar shredding were no less important in tonight's overall performance. No cock ups, no mistakes (not that I heard anyway) - this was a fitting climax to see off the March On Tour.
For the first encore, it was once more the same two songs as Kilmarnock - and I was feeling a tad cheated that tonight of all nights, I was not going to hear an amended set list. As the four meninblack came back on and I prepared for the bass thumping intro to 'Heroes', they kicked into 'Go Buddy Go' - a surprising and totally unexpected addition. Fuckin' hell, the crowd boogie-woogied and shouted "two - three - four" in unision but, before we could all go home, we still had the inner organ rattling, crowd pleasing matter of set closer 'No More Heroes'.
And then it was all over. After a couple of post-gig photo shoots and a round of farewells to all those who I had shared the last month trekking around the country, following the band we all love, it was out the side fire exit into the continuing deluge of Glasgow precipitation. Ironically just like the song - we were all going home, I couldn't find (gig) bud, so I was leaving alone. However, rounding the corner to the front of the venue, I was re-united with Les and Budgy and a myriad of other known gigsters.
Scene 4 - THE SOU-WESTER TAVERN
We left with a few others and made our way city centre-ward , intending to go to The Laurieston for post-gig celebrations and further inebriation - but our knocking on the door fell on deaf ears inside. So it was into The Sou-Wester Tavern 100 yards up the road for a Strangler based karaoke session and a few more large glasses of lager. As big Alan Munro destroyed another tune, I popped outside and whilst chatting to Caroline, failing to shelter from the apparently endless downpour, last orders were called. This seemed like an appropriate time for me to take my leave and after refusing another lift offer from Les, I strode out heading back into town.
Scene 5 - HOME
Hands thrust deep in my pockets, and hood pulled tight over my head, I battled the wind and rain as I crossed the Clyde once more. As I looked over the side into the dark, gloomy water, my mind wandered and I thought about Dagenham Dave jumping off a bridge in London. Not that I was going to - but I wondered if I jumped would The Stranglers write a song about me - 'Glasgow Graeme' - probably not, seeing as "I'm not gonna cry, I bet he hit that water pished" doesn't quite have the same ring to it!!
Just as the rain began to ease up I found myself back at my hotel. I was just about to enter when a kebab shop caught my eye - that will do nicely to round off the night. Big mistake - as the state of my hotel room the next morning could testify - messy. Anyway, once packed and checked out, I began my final journey to the airport and back home. It was really nice of JJ to be there to see me off (I don't believe he was there to travel on to Nice as everyone else said). Quite a few other fans were there as well, all making their last travels back to civvy street now the batallioninblack had disbanded (for a while anyway).
And that was that - alls well that ends well. Roll on Belfast.
EPILOGUE - From the most exciting set-list in years (albeit plagued with sound and technical issues) performed for only the first few gigs on the tour right through to a more structured (but still ever changing) set, the March On Tour never failed to entertain. Thanks to all who made my five gigs in four weekends both eventful and enjoyable - you all know who you are. Fly straight with perfection and always keep it nice'n'sleazy.
Mully 03/04/15