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| Me, May 2002. Colin Doran's hair just out of shot. |
On March 16th 2002 I went to my first ever real rock show. That’s right, I’ve just hit my tenth anniversary of attending gigs - and I consider it to be a pretty big deal. I suppose I take live music for granted a little now, considering I go to at least one show most weeks, however re-wind ten years and the only bands I’d seen up until that night had been friends’ bands playing in school halls and Shed Seven at the BBC Radio 1 Road Show ’99 on the beach at Great Yarmouth. I think you'll agree, my exposure to “real” live music had been limited to say the least.
I had first heard Vex Red sometime in late 2001 on the MTV2 chart show, and had immediately fallen in love with them. The fact they had been recording with Ross Robinson only made me more eager to hear this band live, so when I found out they would be playing in Birmingham to coincide with the release of their album I knew I had to be there. What followed was (I imagine) several months of persistent begging to my parents to allow me to go all the way to Birmingham to see my new favourite band. Tickets were received as a Birthday gift, and the compromise was made that if I was going, my dad would take me, which was fine by me.
So March 16th came, and my dad and I made our way to the Carling Academy 2, in Dale End. I don’t think I had been to Birmingham much at all before then, despite my dad having grown up in Shirley, so I was pretty much overwhelmed by the size of the place (remember, I had a sheltered up-bringing in Telford). I can still remember the thrill I felt going into the Academy: there was lights, there was smoke, and there definitely wasn't a P.T.A selling squash in plastic cups at the back. Yes, I’d had to get my dad to take me (the first gig he’d attended for 20+ years), but I felt like the coolest kid alive. We got ourselves a good spot somewhere over to the left of the stage, a few rows back from the barrier. I chastised myself for forgetting my camera, but I soon forgot about this as the support act, Halo, took to the stage. They were from Brighton, and have coincidentally recently reformed. They were alright; I had of course out of youthful enthusiasm listened to as much of their music as possible prior to the show, so knew what was in store. However it was Vex Red who I was most excited about seeing. Their album Start With A Strong and Persistent Desire had only been out a fortnight at this point, but I had already learnt the songs word for word, and they didn't disappoint me – playing both the singles ‘Itch’ and ‘Can’t Smile’ (including the ‘Genie in a Bottle’ outro they were known to tease the crowd with), as well as ‘Between Venom and Vision’, a non-album track they had played on their Radio 1 Evening Session at the start of the month.
I think I spotted a couple of members of King Adora lurking around that night too; I felt like I had entered some kind of parallel universe in which rock stars walked around with “normal” people instead of on the TV and the pages of Kerrang! It would probably be another year or so before I realised people in bands are for the most part just the same as me or anybody else - they just get the opportunity to look cool on a stage more often than most. I was well and truly blown away, and had my eyes opened to the talent of the UK underground, a passion for which has burned in me ever since.
Remembering this gig got me thinking about other people’s first shows, but strangely when I asked most people the overwhelming response was to cringe a bit – it seemed most folks had the opinion that the first band they saw were crud. One person in particular, and I'm sure she won’t mind me referring to her, was ashamed that the first band she saw live was Travis – tickets received as a birthday present when she was in school. But why are so many ashamed of these early excursions into rock? Yes, we may look back with hindsight and wonder why the hell we were so excited to see a particular group, especially when that band has fallen out of favour, but I believe we should embrace these moments, these bands we saw that at that time and that place were the most exciting thing we could think to do. This is an idea picked up nicely in Pete’s piece, but you’ll get to that in due course.
What follows are some of the best responses I've had to the question posed… read on for the frazzled memories of gigs gone by….
MARTIN WARLOW – GUITARIST/VOCALS w/ THE DOUBLE HAPPY
My first gig was T'pau at Telford Ice Rink, sometime around 1988. I was a fan of this band for one main reason: I wanted to finger their singer, Carol Decker. Probably worth mentioning at this point that i was 13 years old in 1988. I thought their music was pretty good too, but flame-haired Carol had a mysteriously profound ability to fulfil my adolescent erotic demands, just as effective as finding an old copy of Razzle in a bush. Remember, this was 1988, before the times of limitless Internet grumble filth at all our fingertips. Enough about that.
The show was as good as to be expected; they saved the mega-hit 'China In Your Hand' for the encore, then I got the train home with numb feet from standing on boarded over ice for 3 fucking hours. Worst. Venue. Ever. And yes, I would still definitely like to finger Carol Decker.
The Double Happy on Facebook
RORY BUTTERWORTH – MAN THE RAMPARTS RECORDS
Small gigs at the Civic or Wulfrun's Generation aside (and who, outside of [spunge] fans, went to those for the live music anyway? Who even remembers the details of any of those gigs when most Friday nights at Generation consisted of cheap cider acquired from Broad Street?), my first real rock show was Download 2004, with Let Your Fingers Do The Walking! boss-man Andy Hall no less. Damageplan, Korn, Machine Head, Soulfly and Slipknot during the day made for a frantic, sweaty and tiring summer’s afternoon, and to top it off, Metallica did a mental-long setlist with the revolving door of drummers far cooler (and far more talented) than Lars Ulrich. The next morning I had a GSCE maths paper and it's likely that Sunday of Download ruined any possible chances of me passing that exam, but fuck it, it was only a GCSE.
Man The Ramparts Records on Facebook
STEPHEN REYNOLDS – MY DAD
T. Rex at the Odeon Theatre Birmingham, 9th June 1972
It was the height of Glam Rock, outrageous outfits, platform boots, and to me Marc Bolan and T. Rex epitomised the era. Electric Warrior, released in 1971, was one of the first LPs that I bought and along with their singles ‘Get It On’, ‘Hot Love’, ‘Jeepster’, and ‘Telegram Sam’, from these humble beginnings I had to see “my hero” in concert.
In June 1972 I went to the Birmingham Odeon along with a few friends to see one of my favourite bands and I was not disappointed. With his customary Gibson Les Paul/Flying V, the wide lapelled golden jacket and his locks, he strutted around the stage playing everything that you would have expected at a time when he and T. Rex were at the top of their game.
The band in ‘72 consisted of the classic line-up of Marc Bolan (guitar), Mickey Finn (Percussion), Steve Currie (Bass) and Bill Legend (Drums). Support that evening came from Quiver, who later joined forces with The Sutherland Brothers and had a hit with ‘Arms of Mary’ in 1975. The cost of the ticket was £1.25.
Check out my dad on Last.fm
STUART-LEE TOVEY – GUITARIST w/ THEM WOLVES
I was 15, the year was 1996 and the curtain had not long been drawn on grunge, there was shit all to do.
I had a rather unsavoury, greasy little friend who introduced me to Metallica's album Load, I was obviously over familiar with a few tracks from their Black Album, but was never really that bothered. My little greasy metal friend invited me to go and witness 'tallica in the flesh at The NEC, a prospect which terrified my mother. I promised her there would be no drugs or hookers and that I would be back at a reasonable time.
We had to get the Metallica Coach from Stoke Radio Station; everyone on it had the same head and smelt pretty awful. I was given some odd tasting drinks from flasks from the bigger boys from the back rows. I was sick before we got to the venue. I walked in and was blown away by the size of the place, it was ridiculous. The support: Corrosion of Conformity were alright, I remember enjoying them a bit, but when Metallica hit the stage with all of their explosions and lighting guys falling from the roof on wires it turned into one of the best things I had ever seen.
Today I do not listen to Metallica, or indeed go and watch over blown rock concerts, but I loved that night and I will still attempt to play some Metallica tunes on the guitar when I'm drunk.
Metallica - The NEC - 1996, probably changed my life a bit.
Them Wolves on Facebook
PETE STANLEY – GUITARIST w/ HISTORY OF THE HAWK
The Crocketts/ My Vitriol [Flapper & Firkin, Birmingham circa 99/2000]
I have so many great gig memories but my fondest times were when I was at college. I was naively full of wonder in my early 20's. I guess as you get older you realise more about how music works, even more so when you start writing and playing it. Back then I was mesmerised by the art of making music (I'm still confused by it now). I didn't understand it but longed to, eventually. I never grew up seeing bands that mattered either, well some but mostly ones who started out awesome and became less so as I grew older or just cult like Biffy Clyro, Snow Patrol, Crackout and Llama Farmers. Some people at 20 saw bands like Thin Lizzy and Zep or even The Beatles. I was a college kid fired up on the first Weezer lp and Nirvana's In Utero (both copied to tape and worn out, pre mp3 *insert sad face*), in fact my Nirvana copy was a copy of a copy on tape (Imagine the tape hiss) I think my walkman had Dolby noise reduction). The luxury! It made everything low end and muddy but least listenable, uber thudding Albini sound. It wasn't until I found a shit job I could afford to watch more gigs. One I've picked out was at The Flapper & Firkin in Birmingham (which I have seen some amazing gigs at over the years). The Crocketts and My Vitriol: what a polar opposite sharing a show together but two special bands none the less.
I remember My Vitriol hadn't released their album at that point, only two singles which my friend had and had already let me tape. 'Losing Touch' being one of them. I waited patiently especially for that one. 'Finelines' still is fine album anyway (I saw them a couple of years later with Mansun and weren't so great) but that night they were sublime. The intensity and passion in their music was amazing, especially for a young lad like me. Really direct and serious. I had Loveless by My Bloody Valentine but I was still working out how they made all these sounds. I was blown away. Coincidently years later every band going used a multitude of pedals and as soon as I realised how much they are a cover for lack of ideas, if you don't know how to use them properly - I decided never to bother with my own music. The gig was Incredible. It was truly exciting, even more so to pick up the album which I bought months later.
That night wasn’t over, my friends had tipped me about a band that were literally off their tits and smashed everything up called The Crocketts. My friends had gone on a ferry with them to France or somewhere and they coincidently played a gig on the way over there - crazy. They were the first band I’d ever seen where they didn't give a shit and it wasn't put on, no stage bullshit. They just didn’t care. I saw Davey the singer before the gig, and got him to sign my copy of their first lp. He was propped up, spaced out against the wall which I found worrying at the time. He was incoherent and lovely and we chatted a bit and he signed all our stuff and was very thankful we’d come out to support them. By the time they took the stage, you got a feeling you were watching a band which would become folklore. Lovely guys making amazing music yet wired as fuck when they played. Excess all areas.
I remember them being so intense yet lovable, funny - in fact hilarious and everyone who was into them being the same. They didn't give a fuck, Davey would scream and punch himself in the head muttering stuff just off mic before bounding into songs. 'Will You Still care' I remember being especially vitriolic with folks pogoing around but 'Strong Guy' brought the whole room together in a complete madness. They used to do 'Opposite Ends' too which there’s a b-side version which is great but not half what the live version was, there’s a video I found tonight which captures some of its majesty. The Crocketts, struck a chord with me that night. The way they smashed their equipment at the end (pre bought at cash converters) and just went ape shit. It was dangerous yet silly.
That night covered everything probably I’d ever need to see in a gig. I saw My Vitriol again years later and they took themselves way too seriously and The Crocketts (many, many times) maybe not enough so - these two amazing bands who probably stand no footnote in time - stand as a footnote personally in my growing up years. They both left a stamp on me with their music which will always exist. I totally understand personal nostalgia is, well just that. I'm sure there were folks at the gig who found it not to their liking. Sometimes time in your life, the right bands come along and fill in the right gaps. Also I'm not sure if you are more open to new things when you are younger or if you get jaded as you grow older but if you really love music, go watch it. Support bands touring near you if you are into their music. I'm in that position now where your t-shirt money pays my petrol to the next gig. I helped those bands make their records and get chronically drunk every night for a few years, I'm glad I did. I still listen to their music now whether that’s deemed ‘cool’ or not.
History of the Hawk on Facebook
