This just in from way down under - A superb brace of reviews from the recent Australian Tour courtesy of Meanie who regales us with tales of his antipodean adventures - Including transhemispheric double-decker submarine buses! For real! - Brilliant!!!...
Strangled in The Great Southern Land
It was with some trepidation that I agreed to accept the honourable task of reporting on The Meninblackdownunder Tour (title blatantly stolen from the tour shirt). Being neither a literary genius, nor a great storyteller, I will endeavour to provide you with a blow by blow account from my perspective.
A quick bit of background, when I moved to Australia, I didn’t think I would ever attend another Stranglers gig again, you know, bus timetables and all that, apparently there are no aquatic buses to The UK after 6PM on weekdays. I had been lucky enough to be around for the ‘Glory Days’ and was not at all keen on MKII. It was a case of tried that and didn’t like it, I was happy to remain loyal to the ‘old stuff’ and I had more than enough dodgy boots to keep me sustained. Then in 2009 I decided to dip the preverbial toe in the water when I saw that The Boys were playing a venue called The Roundhouse, at Sydney Uni, the temptation was too much, the name of the venue alone was enough to prise $1000 from me to get there, and what a night!!! Hooked again completely. I thought that would be the last time I ever saw the band and that I would die happy after the previous incarnation. For the record, I now see every Stranglers gig that I attend, as possibly the last time that I will ever see them, so it’s kind of emotional for me, I’m not ashamed to admit it. Fortunately, I have seen them seven ‘last times’ since Sydney.
So, on to the matter at hand. Back to September 2015, my phone beeps…. SMS…. a link and a question…… are you going? I click the link, it’s a heads up on ticket sales for The Stranglers tour in April……..”Am I going???”, what kind of question is that? Of course I’m going, boot computer and register for the old early bird heads up thingo. Within days I’ve pawned the family jewels and got tickets, flights and accommodation……..now we wait, and wait and wait, I post “is it April yet” regularly on Facebook. Finally it’s April and we are packing for Brisbane 1000km round trip of open road interspersed every 10km by the dicks with sticks, that’s my term of endearment for those stout yeoman who wield the stop/go signs, I swear half the working population of Australia are dicks with sticks.
The Tivoli – Brisbane
After a quick tour of family we set the GPS for Coniston Street in search of The Tivoli, we hit Brisbane at rush hour and become slightly quizzical of the GPS when it suggests that we turn left 8 times in succession, we abandon the car, I feed the meter and we set off on foot in search of the venue and then the pub, The Jubilee, to meet fellow Fansinblack. We wander in, spot a few Stranglers shirts milling about, we order drinks and sit down. I spot a few familiar faces and soon tables are being drawn together like some medieval banquet and the black knights and their ladies are seated reminiscing about old times, past gigs, football and the old country. It was great to meet some of those who had made the long and perilous journey to New Zealand and then on to Aus for the tour. I took particular delight in watching Chris Foulkes squirm as I told him the story about the brown snake in our bathroom, there is no innuendo whatsoever in that, real snake.
We sculled a few and then all set off to wait for the doors to open, it was still pretty hot, so nobody had a problem with standing outside waiting for the doors to open ten minutes after the tickets stated, which is the norm. As soon as I entered the venue memories came flooding back of the venues I had seen The Stranglers play so many years ago, before the advent of the concrete and metal insincere buildings they call concert halls, all owned by the same money grabbing company. It felt like I had come home, I grabbed my tour shirt and stubby holder post hastily as I know how quickly those things sell out here. We found a great spot and I made the obligatory trip to the bar as is customary at such occasions, beer in a bottle, not one of those plastic cups, living the high life, we were.
Support was provided by some nong with a laptop who stood like someone who wasn’t sure whether he’d peed on his white trousers and was desperately looking to see in the dimly lit venue, at the beginning we were lured into a false sense of security as he played tunes by the old skool punk elite at the beginning of his ‘set’, by the time he’d reached a painful near two hour marathon, Jo was ready to beat him to death with his laptop and she made that VERY clear. And two hours passed, the sound was pretty dire, the nong never uttered a word, remaining stooped over his gadgetry while we waited, somewhat impatiently. By 9PM the crowd were getting toey as we’d been told that there was a curfew and this dick was eating into gig time, sure enough he eventually disappeared, then the obligatory last minute adjustments started in the dark. I remember chuckling to myself as Jo stated “For fucks sake, they’ve had all day to fiddle about with that stuff!” Then, thank the maker……..
Waltzinblack, Toiler, Grip, you know the story. The band looked tired but they worked hard and played many of the standards, they made a rotten job of a couple but were totally forgiven, Skin Deep was dismal and really out of tune, Dave took the piss out of Baz on a number of occasions, which I had been told he’d done for the previous few gigs and Baz took the piss out of Australians and Brits alike, throwing in the odd Acca Dacca riff to demonstrate ”I can play fuckin’ anything me.” We watched people skate by on the multiple discarded beer bottles and laughed at the group next to us who firmly planted cotton wool in their ears when the lights went down. It wasn’t the best gig I’ve ever been to but it was still brilliant and we left sated. We steered the beast for Coffs Harbour, and home the next morning for one day at home before heading south to Adelaide.
Thebarton Theatre – Adelaide
Early morning flight to Sydney followed by a short wait for our flight to Adelaide, nothing is close in Straya. Five hours later we’re in Adelaide, I really wanted to go to this gig as I’ve never been to South Australia. We arrive at our hotel and from the outside it looks like a lifesize prop from Gotham City, complete with Gargoyles, our room is on the tenth floor, it’s very luxurious and it’s black and white and we discover that there is a roof top bar…. Complete awesomeness. I found some amusement in sitting on top of a skyscraper, drinking a stout called King Kong while trying to balance on a bar stool overlooking the city.
I had booked a few days in Adelaide to explore and I’m glad that I did, what a beautiful city, The City Of Churches. On Friday, gig day, we woke to the news that his royal purpleness, Prince, had died, the weather had turned and it was cold and pretty miserable. I did the sensible thing and booked a taxi to the pub nearest to the venue and after waiting for an hour in the cold and the rain for the invisible taxi, someone told me that it’s a waste of time booking a taxi on Friday or Saturday because they don’t turn up! Fortunately the boys in the hotel were onto it quickly and in no time we were whizzing along Henley Beach Road towards the venue, unfortunately we missed catching up with everyone at the pub as it was knocking on 7PM by the time we got there. There was none of the previous joviality outside the venue because the weather was nasty, Jo advised me “this is worse than queuing to get into a gig in England”, referring to the harsh weather. Twenty minutes later and we are inside, fantastic theatre, gloomy and old, just how I like them.
Oh Nooooo, here we go again another nong with a laptop, this one looked like an extra from Waynes World but at least he was more animated, he walked about and flicked his long hair a lot whilst drinking from a bottle…. Talent or what????
This geezer didn’t make us suffer as we had in Brisbane, an hour and a half and he was gone. Our cunning plan for being central to the stage came slightly undone when chromedome stinky appeared right in front of us with all of his bags and wind up mobile phone, it’s possible that Jo and I did not take more than a few breaths in 2 hours. Lights go down, Waltzinblack and the place was electric, it just had that buzz about it, it felt right. Toiler, Straighten Out, Grip, I’ve been Wild, Curfew (Andi et Al, sneaking about frantically on the stage)…. They’re smashing it, then, Jim’s drums spit the dummy and decide to part company with each other, the lights go up and people rush about the stage frantically Jim disappears for a while and Baz goes into comedy mode while repairs are made.
Baz “People ask us if we bring all our gear on tour, you’re joking, it would cost a million fucking pounds to bring all of our shit to Australia, this is my guitar and that’s JJ’s guitar, come on show ‘em JJ, Dave brings a few bits and so does Jim, the rest is hired. Looks like we hired a shit drum kit though, it keeps falling apart”. Baz held it all together for a good five minutes while he and JJ treated us to a few short solos, even Dave chipped in with a few rare words on occasion, mostly aimed at mocking Baz. Then we’re up and running again……Relentless, Sleazy…. Firing on all cylinders and then some. 5 Minutes appeared in the set, as did Go Buddy Go in exchange for that eternal ‘crowd pleaser’ ADAAOTN.
The announcement of GBG referenced pub rock, as it had on the B&W tour, but Baz threw in “You Aussies know all about that though, you probably fuckin’ invented it”. We finished with Heroes and could easily have gone another fifteen rounds. Then we all disappeared into the shadows, unaffected by the cold, warmed to the centre of our beings. To end my bit of the tour on such a high was all that I could ask for………… except maybe that they come back again next year, they know that they will pull a good crowd of ex-pats and with those of you mad enough to make the trek from the UK they’re always going to have fun.
Thankyou and goodnight from the arse end of the world…. Who Wants It?
In an epic transdimensional/transtemporal tale that takes us from behind The Iron Curtain into the heart of the Decadent West - Comrade Boshkin gives us this report of the last week of The Stranglers Black and White Tour. So put on your slippers, pull up your chair, spark up an Havana and enjoy...
Black and White and Grippe!
by Anatoly Boshkin
April 2016
Man in White
Our esteemed brother-in-black Matt Brown asked me if I wanted to contribute a guest review to his web site. I feel honored to join the ranks of guest reviewers on his excellent site which I have been following, with fascination, for several years. At first I was not sure if my writing ability is up to the task, after all English is not my native tongue, but then I recalled the words of my high school teacher giving advice on writing essays: “There’s nothing to it, write in short sentences, avoid big words, and you’ll be fine”… She and I hated each other’s guts, so I intend to completely ignore her advice and still attempt to come up with something readable.
As I was booking my flights and hotels for this trip, I realized that it was my 7th year in a row that I would cross the Atlantic to see The Stranglers live. Not bad. On this trip I would reach 25 on my Stranglers gig count (a bit tricky with the 2011 convention, which I count as 2 gigs). Not very impressive, I know, with many fans out there having their numbers in the hundreds, and some reaching double digits in a single year. My excuse, of course, is the geography (I have been living in the USA since 1994) and, shall we say, geopolitics: born and raised behind the Iron Curtain. I could only dream of seeing the band live in the first half of its existence, having thus missed the original lineup completely.
By 2010, I had only seen the band live once, at Glasgow Barrowlands, December 1993 – the one with Jet singing Old Codger and JJ having beer spilled all over him, with subsequent invitation for the culprit to come onstage for a lesson (not accepted). Those were the high points, the rest of the gig not so much; Mr. Roberts had a knack of turning the hits I had fallen in love with as a teenager into some other band’s songs, and Mr. Ellis insisted on playing guitar parts his way, cleanly and technically but without the quirkiness of his predecessor, which, again, made it sound like there was some other band on stage playing their own renditions of the songs by The Stranglers (needless to say, I did not care about most Mk II songs at all). The substitute drummer (Tim Bruce, if i remember correctly) did an adequate job but, quite understandably, nothing more, and the two original members did not look engaged, apart from the aforementioned beer-throwing episode. It was certainly an important milestone, my first Stranglers gig (and Jet’s Old Codger is a memory I will cherish for the rest of my life), but overall a bit of a disappointment. So much in fact, that when The Stranglers played a very short North American tour in 1997, I decided not to take the 4 hour drive to the nearest point of call, New York City, from Washington DC area where I lived by then, figuring that they’d do a proper US tour soon enough and I would be able to see them locally. A bit of a miscalculation: the next US tour would happen 16 bloody years later!
Fast forward a few years, there is a new guitar player in town, and fans on the Internet say they quite like him. My first taste of Baz’s playing came soon thereafter with the 5 Live album, and I was duly impressed. I heard a guitar player that managed to replicate Cornwell’s sound and style pretty damn close to the original, including the reported use of a Telecaster; I deduced a desire to please the fans and zero arrogance. Then came Norfolk Coast where I heard, to my delight, that Dave started playing, after many years of just providing the background. There was an overall feeling of a band enjoying their craft again. By now, I was very much interested again, and hoping for an imminent US tour which for some reason did not happen this year; OK, next year for sure.
In a few more years there were 4 again, JJ started singing more, and Baz, although not imitating Hugh vocals-wise, somehow still sang in a manner that did not grate this old-time fan at all. I felt The Stranglers were back! Sweet XVI sort of confirmed that the band was returning to its roots, but the real treats were the live recordings that clearly showed me that the band I fell in love with as a teenager somehow resurfaced after a prolonged near-hiatus. That, and the rumors that Jet’s health was failing, led me to a decision to stop waiting for the mountain to come to the US and catch them whenever and wherever I can, for however long they have left to run. As a side note, by then I had seen Hugh on all of of his US solo tours (even came over to watch him play the Guildfest in 1999), met him and spoke with him several times, and it was abundantly clear that the reunion was out of the question. Oh well. Bring on the next best thing!
In 2010, I recruited my best friend Sergei to accompany me for a 3-day, 2-gig trip to England. We had a fucking blast! First, Cambridge Corn Exchange, and then Hammersmith Apollo, an absolutely unforgettable experience. I waited near the head of the line for more than an hour and was able to get a place at the railing on JJ’s side, and then survived 2 hours plus of being tossed about in the human surf, ended up with multiple bruises on my rib cage but never let go of the rail, and was rewarded with a blissful audiovisual experience, from the first note of Waltzinblack to the last sound of the encore. That was pretty darn close to what I had been dreaming of ever since hearing No More Heroes on the BBC Russian Service in December 1977 and deciding right there and then that this was my band! It became clear to me that I wanted to continue going to these gigs again and again, for as long as the band keeps on running.
So here I am, 6 years later, very happy with the decision I made, and enough of my life story, let’s get to the latest trip, a week on the Black and White tour of 2016, which turned out to be the one to remember, for reasons great and not so much…
Salisbury
The overnight flight from Washington Dulles to Heathrow was uneventful and almost enjoyable. The usual questioning by the immigration officer on my plans in the UK raised the customary chuckle (“What, the same gig 5 times in a row? Jolly good, Sir” – bam! a stamp in the passport). A long walk to the bus station, a longish wait before a comfy bus ride to Woking, a look at Salisbury bound departures… “Cancelled”. “Cancelled” . Oh my. Don’t know what was happening there, but having crossed the Atlantic Ocean in 6.5 hours it took me 3 more hours to clear Woking. British Rail can be tricky, as many readers probably know.
Anyway, there goes my chance of a couple hours’ kip before the festivities begin. Finally at Salisbury, a taxi to the hotel (White Hart – remember the name), and then to the pub across the road where comrade Jo Black is eagerly waiting, a pint in hand. Hugs and back pats, fish and chips, pints and pints, then cognac and cigars, all with a talk between two mates about what went on in their lives in the past year. A very happy start to what would undoubtedly be a fab week!
A Comrade and a Mate
At some point Matt Brown texts me, he’s at a local curry house (where else) with a bunch of fellow fans, so Jo and I swing back to the hotel to freshen up and pick up the gig tickets; I don my white Black & White top, then follows a short taxi ride to the aforementioned Indian establishment (to the hotel receptionist: “Er, can you please call us a taxi, we are going to an Indian restaurant, we forgot the name but remember that it ends with a double A”… she managed!). A group of fans in black is present, beside Matt there are Karen Parfitt, Adam “Pigeon” Salem, Lou and Rebus Smith, Pete from West London and his mate whose name is swept away from my memory by the subsequent streams of Kingfisher (Two Pint Pete and Keith, EiTC). Soon, we are joined by Jan Stoelinga and his wife (another name I lost, sorry!), direct from Netherlands (The lovely Jacqueline Mr Boshkins Sir, EiTC). The food is fiery, the beer cold, Pete keeps calling me Boris (from the movie Snatch, apparently I am a lookalike), I feel mildly irritated until I realize that he refers to everybody else simply as “c**t” (EiTC note: Profanity and alcoholic excess aside, he’s a top bloke Comrade!). A great time is being had by everyone. Soon, it’s time to go into the venue.
We catch most of the set by The Alarm. It’s a good one, Mike Peters is a charismatic front man, the tunes are good, the band sound fine, I’d say they are one of the best bands that I have seen support The Stranglers.
Finally, the lights go out and the magic sounds of Waltzinblack fill the hall. The first gig on each trip is always special for me. It’s a combination of a sleepless night, jetlag, many pints, the euphoria/adrenaline of starting a new chapter in my personal Stranglers adventure…. The first gig usually flashes by as a blur of happy sounds and lights, and this was no exception.
Salisbury
The gig over, Jo and I hurry to a pub to come down using a few rounds of Jamie and Guinness.
Back at the White Hart and who do we see in the lobby… Dave Greenfield himself! With a Stella in hand and the famous black bag (though it’s brown these days) at his feet, chatting with several companions. Somehow we find ourselves join the company, Jo asks a question and Dave is chattering away. I sit slack jawed and try to follow the conversation. Jo: “How does it feel to be the best keyboard player in the world, Dave?” Dave: “Nah, there are better ones”. Even though I had met Dave and spoke with him several times before, I am starstruck and mostly speechless, however the fact that I am on a cross-Atlantic trip to see the band for the 7th year running surfaces at some point, and everybody seems impressed. One of the gentlemen present, Gary, says he is the tour manager and offers me to be at the Folkestone venue by 3PM next day, to see the soundcheck. I can hardly believe my luck. Being an experienced drinker and not trusting my memory, I take a photograph of Gary and type a note to my next day’s self into my iphone: “This man’s name is Gary, he’s the tour manager and he wants you to be at the venue in Folkestone at 3PM, he will get you in to see the soundcheck. This was not a dream, dude, do not fuck it up!”
Be there tomorrow!
Folkestone
Next morning, I find Jo in the lobby chatting with the hotel manager Audrey. Her husband is a huge fan of Dave Greenfield and he had no idea the band would stay at the White Hart, so she said she would tease him “guess who I spend half the last night chatting with!” A hearty breakfast of one pint of Guinness each, then another quick pint of real ale at the railway station where we learn of the terror attack in Brussels (a priceless tirade from a local guy to the effect that “do you feel you have admitted enough ‘refugees’ now, euroliberals, or do you still want some more?” – about twice as long if I were to leave the cuss words in). Jo and I say our goodbyes – see you next year buddy – and onwards I go, the goal is 3PM at the Leas Cliff Hall, Folkestone, as the iphone message from the past prescribes.
British Rail does a proper job this time, and at a quarter to three I am at the ticket counter of the Leas Cliff Hall demanding my ticket and somebody to page Gary the boss man or his deputy Merv to come and let me in. The people at the counter are amused but oblige, and soon I am told to stick around and wait near the entrance to be picked up, which indeed happens at around 3:20. Gary tells me to wait at the merch stall for the band to arrive which I do, and when they show up 15 or so minutes later he introduces me, and to my surprise JJ says “We have met you before, haven’t we” – indeed, at the US tour 2 years prior we spoke at the VIP meet-and-and-greets in NYC and Philly. While we shake hands somebody says “What a great name, Anatoly” – not sure what makes it great, but I’ll take it, thanks Mom&Dad! I ask Baz for a selfie, and he responds “Sure, after we’re done here. Come inside!”
It is my first time witnessing a Stranglers soundcheck (in fact, any soundcheck), and it is quite the experience. The Alarm are present, some of the crew are scurrying around the stage, others pushing faders on the soundboard, I watch in awe and feeling special (I appear to be the only just a fan in the hall). After a few whacks at the instruments and some discussion, the band decide to play Burning Up Time, and they do, only the voices are not audible. They seem to be singing for real, so I guess the mikes were on and they heard themselves on the monitors, and I find myself being treated to an instrumental version of B.U.T. – very special indeed!
Soundcheck
At the end of it, Gary invites me onstage for a photo with the band. As we walk towards the stage I offer profuse thanks for the wonderful experience. Gary answers along the lines of “we certainly noticed your dedication and want to do something nice in return as a sign of appreciation”. I get up on stage, Jim is nowhere to be seen (I guess he still shies away from full band photos; he should not), I hand my iPhone to Gary and the four of us line up. While Gary prepares to shoot, JJ asks me where in Russia I was born, how long have been living in America, and then delivers this one: “Do you agree that Black and White has not aged at all? I listen to it today, and it sounds as modern now as it did in the 70s”. I am not ready to handle such a profound topic and in response start telling JJ how it was the full first album I heard as a teenager in 79. The shots are snapped, Gary hands me the phone back, I wish the band a good gig, thank Gary again, and leave the building, escorted by a crew member.
On Stage
The whole experience lasted for about 30 minutes and left me in a somewhat dizzy state.
I had thought that the unbeatable high point of my “career” as a Stranglers fan was when Baz addressed me from stage in Philadelphia as part of his pre-No More Heroes “Can you feel it?” banter (“And you, my Russian friend, can you feel it?”) This might very well be even more special, I am not sure. To ruminate on the subject, I walked to a bar across the street from the venue, ordered JD on the rocks and a pint of Bombardier, positioned myself in their garden overlooking the venue and lit up a cigar. As it often happens these days, ruminations were quickly abandoned in favor of Facebook, Skype and other means of sharing the joy with the outside world that do not require deep insight or even use of proper language, lol.
Having finished the refreshments and enlightened the world, I took a long walk through the streets of the fine town of Folkestone in search of proper food and historical attractions (found none, settled for a pint and a sandwich), followed by a lovely stroll along a seaside promenade back to the venue.
Invisible France
The faithful had already started a queue, full 2 hours prior to opening of the doors.
The Biggest Fans
I go to the hotel to freshen up, along the way noticing that the Leas Cliffs Hall does not deal exclusively in rock concerts, other quality entertainment is also on offer:
Leas Cliff Hall, home of the class acts. Tonight: The Stranglers. Tomorrow: …wtf??
Soon, Matt pages me from a curry restaurant (where else), he is there with his brother Phil who sports an impressive facial hair, in the style of the last Russian emperor Nicholas the Second. Soon we will be joined by two more fans, Lucy and Rihannon. More fiery food and Kingfisher, we relocate to a wine bar (why do they call it a “wine bar” if everybody still drinks beer and shorts?), after some drinks back to the venue where I meet up with a recent Internet contact of mine, Tony Raven. The gig is about to begin.
Folkestone
I make my way to the front, positioning myself near the front on the Baz’s side. My second gig of the tour begins well enough but towards the end of the Black and White section I realize that something is not right. Baz looks pale, barely speaks between songs and disappears backstage every now and again. JJ looks concerned. I do not remember noticing any deterioration in Baz’s playing or singing, but he looks unwell and quite unhappy. Approximately 3/4 through the set JJ turns to the other band members and I see him mouth “Let’s just finish”. They play 5 Minutes (if the memory serves) and go. People start shouting for encore. JJ quickly returns and explains that two of the band members have food poisoning and could not finish the set, for the first time in 40 years of operation – I suspect most of you saw the YouTube clip with his speech, so I will not transcribe it here. What impressed me was the fact that audience responded with respect and understanding, I did not hear a single boo, instead there was a long and loud applause for a band who fought hard to give the fans their music and persevered for almost 1.5 hours instead of taking the easy option of cancelling the gig, one I suspect many of the more pampered stars would choose without a second thought. Much respect!
Post-gig everybody is concerned with the health of the band, next day’s concert in Cambridge, and even the rest of the tour. As the evening marches on, though (we relocate back to the “wine bar”), the spirits rise and the mood improves. I even donate a raven badge off my jacket to a co-drinker (Rihannon in this case), which indicates a time well spent.
Cambridge
In the morning, I venture outside for a wake-up drink, find a coffee shop, sit down with a big cup, and notice a woman lying flat on the sidewalk across the street, apparently passed out. A couple of people seem to be tending to her; others walk by with nary a glance. The ambulance takes quite a bit of time to arrive, and when it finally does there is no big hurry on the scene. I guess the English do not lose their heads and really keep calm no matter what is going on. Finally the lady on the pavement starts moving, my coffee is finished, I head back to the hotel to pack and move on to Cambridge.
Upon arrival to Cambridge some 3 hours later, I check into my hotel, eat lunch at my favorite place in the town, The Prince Regent pub (a separate story), and head to the Corn Exchange in order to find out the state of the Stranglers camp, and if luck permits maybe hear the sounds of the soundcheck. I pick up my ticket, the person at the box office does not know anything about any cancellation, good sign but I decide to hang around the venue for a bit and see what I can find. An occasional person in a Stranglers T-shirt can be seen walking past the building, quite a number of people see the poster advertising tonight’s gig and show recognition, some even pull out their phones and snap pictures of it. I have always heard of Cambridge as a very cultural town, and here’s the proof!
After about 20 minutes I notice a crew member who I remember from the day before. As he smiles at me on the way to the stage door, I ask him “How are they feeling?” His reply is “Ugh” and a wave of the hand that I interpret as “far from perfect but good enough”. A look at the latest Facebook postings confirms my guess, we seem to have a show tonight.
It’s about 4 o’clock, a bit early to expect many fans at The Eagle, but I go in to check anyway. I do not see anybody I recognize; the Stranglers apparel is not yet represented, except for two unfamiliar gentlemen who I exchange nods with. I sit down with my pint of Abbot, and in a minute one of them walks to me and asks if I am on my own, after my “yes” he invites me to join him and his mate. Very nice and, uh, family-in-black-like! As we exchange introductions, he asks for my last name and exclaims “I know you! We are friends on the Facebook! I am Tony Armitage”. What a lovely surprise. Tony and his friend Gary drove to Cambridge from Luton (“There is nothing in Luton, do not go there”, they say) and turn out to be nice and intelligent people, we spend about two hours in a lively discussion of all matters Stranglers-related and otherwise. After a few pints, I feel the need for nourishment before the gig but am not quite in the mood for pub fare, so Tony and Gary give me directions to a kebab place that they thought was excellent (it was) and I leave. If Tony or Gary read this, thank you gentlemen for a great time, hope to see you again next year!
Passing by The Corn Exchange I see that a healthy queue has already formed, one of the familiar faces is Elaine Smith who informs me that she is attending 16 ot ouf 18 gigs on this tour. What a trooper! You must be tough as nails Elaine, I bow my head to you.
I also speak with Lou Smith who informs me that she is hoping to get to the front row, while her husband Rebus preferred to go to The Eagle for a pint. I return to The Eagle after my kebab, but cannot find him. Time to go in.
This time I position myself at the back, near the soundboard. The place is quite packed and to my pleasant surprise the band sounds as tight as ever. Everything goes great until near the middle of the Black and White section I start feeling woozy. My first thought is, “Shit, it’s the kebab” but no, the symptoms are different. After a while I realize that the nasty flu which I seem to be bringing back home from every English trip, struck early this time. The condition worsens so quickly that I have to leave the gig about three quarters in.
Cambridge
On the way to the hotel I pop into a supermarket and load up on flu and cough remedies, the most important of which is the sticky sweet concoction poetically branded Night Nurse. In America, the same kind of stuff goes by a bland pharmaceutic name of Nyquill. I’ll take Night Nurse over Nyquill any day, or rather night.
Into the bed I go, with a towel on my forehead and a bunch of medicine bottles on the side table, a la Mr. Bean. Good night and let’s try to survive the rest of the trip.
Cambridge, day 2
After 12 hours filled with all sorts of unpleasant dreams (and not a single night nurse in them), I decided that I improved enough to risk a walk, get some fresh air, a coffee and maybe some food. Coffee did its temporary magic, so I walked on. In all my previous visits to Cambridge I had never seen the local river, Cam, which in the tourist guides is made up to be some sort of a Seine, only a bit more scenic. I reached it this time. What a disappointment.
Punts on Cam
In addition, it started raining. I took refuge in a nearby pub named The Mitre and tested my condition with a half pint of Hobgoblin. The beer, to quote a fictional Russian scientist, “refreshed my dusty brow”. Encouraged, I ordered a sandwich and a full pint. “The food did me good” but the pint made me feel wobbly again and it became clear that the balance of the day would be best spent in bed. A day of rest in the middle of the week turned out to be a godsend and I needed to take full advantage of it.
As I walked towards the hotel, I saw a homeless-looking man playing a harp. Not a little handheld thing, but an impressive 4-footer which towered above his head as he held in his lap. The locals paid no attention. Worried that my next encounter would be a trio of hobos playing the 80’s style brass part of Down In The Sewer on heavenly trumpets, I hobbled on. Wish I took a photo, at least I’d have known know whether that was a hallucination. Not much to report about the subsequent 20 hours or so. Fever, cough, Night Nurse and bad dreams.
Leeds
Mid-day Friday, a 4 hour+ train ride from Cambridge to Leeds, with 2 changes. The less said about that horrible time the better.
This is my second time in Leeds, I stay at the Radisson Blu which I prefer for its insanely comfy beds, and try to rest before the gig. Always dependable Matt comes through with a texted invitation to another curry place. With regret, I turn him down since I cannot think of food in general, and anything spicy in particular. Instead, I order room service of an over-peppered pumpkin soup and an awfully bad Caesar salad, force myself to eat some of that crap and go right back to bed. In a few short hours, it is time to pull myself out and start staggering towards the Academy..
Thank myself for good planning! When I was booking the gig tickets, I chose to sit on the balcony in Leeds, correctly figuring that after 4 days of trains and gigs I would be on my last legs. I did not figure on being sick, which turned the sitting ticket to the balcony into a real life-saver. Thus, despite my malady, I am able to enjoy a good view and sound, and another excellent gig.
Leeds
Post-concert mingling, alas, was out of the question. At the end of the gig I went straight back to the hotel for another dose of Night Nurse and a night of feverish dreams.
Manchester
Next morning, the last day of the tour, another lucky break for me, the relatively short distance from Leeds to Manchester. I was able to sleep late, take the journey which took less than 2 hours door to door, and check into a bed at the McDonald hotel, very close to the railway station and not far away from the Apollo, this year’s venue. Another set of city-exploring plans had to be ditched in favor of some miserable time with the drapes closed.
For the last gig of my trip and the tour, I had to make the effort to survive. The healing powers of good cognac should not be called upon casually, but this occasion felt right. When the time to get out was close, I went down to the hotel bar and ordered a dose of Remy Martin, with a cup of tea and a sandwich. Soon came a text from Matt with the location of today’s curry place, Punjab. A friendly Indian taxi driver never heard of the place, somewhat surprisingly, and it took him some effort and extra time as the originally given address was incorrect.
When I arrived, Matt and his companion Di were finishing their meal. No problem, “A cup of tea and a brandy” was my dinner order, after which it became evident that the waiter had little idea what “brandy” or “cognac” means, so I had to walk over to the bar and locate a bottle of Martel for him. Di seemed to be suffering from a flu-like condition like myself, so we share the “magic sweeties” as she called the anti-cough candies which I had been carrying a pocketful of for the prior 3 days. No magic there, sadly, just a chemical taste and a short-lived superficial relief. Unlike tea and cognac, which returned some colour to my face, as Matt noted, and allowed me to be minimally sociable for the rest of our dinner and the trip to the Apollo.
The gig was exceptional, the band at their peak and the fans at their most enthusiastic. Once again, the Manchester tour closer turned out to be my favorite gig of the trip. For the fifth time in a row, I was blown away by the first bar of Grip, a monster keyboard sound that heralded the switch from the somewhat depressing Black side of the album, with its stark white lighting, to a full color celebration of timeless hits and classics old and new. Grip is one song that I think sounds better live these days than its original recording. Another highlight of the last gig for me was 5 Minutes, the most energetic version I have ever witnessed. There was even Golden Brown in one of the encores, played for the only time on the tour (or at least its last week), which is just fine by me. At 2 full hours, this gig was over way too soon.
Manchester
If I had to choose the biggest loss caused by my illness, it would not be the fact that it made me miss some sightseeing, good food and drink, record shopping, or even the last 30 minutes of the Cambridge gig. It would not be the recovery that lasted for many days after I returned home (I am still feeling the after-effects as I write this, more than 3 weeks later). It has got to be missing the post-Manchester gig action at the Big Hands bar, with so many friends-in-black I had made in the prior visits. At the end of the concert I could only muster just enough strength to greet all the friends I could locate on the floor, and then had to go to the hotel, be miserable for another night and head to the airport early in the morning.
So…. Julie, Gill, Jason, Andy & Pam, Dave Higginson, Steve and Paul, Elaine, Liz, comrade Pidgeon, Colin Davies, Kathinboots… great to see you all! I am sure I forgot somebody, but it was great to see you as well. Sorry I could only say hi and disappear. I promise to do better next year. And for now, long live The Stranglers and their fans! Amen.
Gig Review – The Stranglers
Guildford 14th March 2016
Oh Guildford Lil…
Spinning in ever decreasing circles, wheels within wheels in perpetual motion, spiralling infinitely inward, I eventually found myself on Level 9 of the multi-story in Guildford…
In the very next bay were SiB and Will, we walked out to street level where we encountered none other than Guildford Lil! Taking advantage of this situation we made our way to the delightful Rose Valley restaurant for a spot of pre-gig sustenance.
Fed and watered, a mild panic began to set in as realisation dawned as to the potential lack of a car key in the vicinity of jacket pocket. Calmly re-traced footsteps eventually located it (via the restaurant) back to the car park in the ignition where it had been left…
Normal service resumed it was onward to G-live, the destination for the annual Stranglers home-coming gig.
Whilst sages in black have wisely philosophised that you don’t need to drink to have a good time, navigating the drunken staircase at G-live could lead one to suggest that, having abstained from the grog, if you want to remember what it feels like to be sloshed this will suffice! etc ETC EiTC…
From whence we made our way to a packed bar with muffled sounds indicating that The Alarm’s set was in progress. We procured some refreshments, caught up with Mr and Mrs C and friends and before we knew it – we knew it was – 5 minutes to stage time – thanks to the G-live tannoy announcement – most civilised!…
We made our way in to the main hall and gravitated toward the stage where we encountered many of the usual suspects in waiting…
Gig Review
Waltzinblack and away we go…
The band delivered Black and White with fire and precision. Highlights again being experiencing the album played in its entirety while highlighting both In The Shadows and Enough Time for the skill and perfection of execution.
A burst of colour and Grip saw them sail through the second part of the set. Walk on By never failing to please and the excellent Princess of The Streets just out there!
The sound tonight was spot on!
In past years the crowd in Guildford, while always most appreciative, have been more focused on watching and listening than dancing but tonight a good few are up for it! The mosh vortex dragged me in where I found myself alongside Raymond and a fairly good natured bunch. The band seemed to notice the increase in activity and in turn feed off the extra-liveliness of the crowd tonight (which Baz alluded to at the end of the set).
Encores were a little thin on the ground being light by two or so numbers compared with Brixton but that’s no complaint really after a performance delivered so well! And besides, who wouldn’t take the chance to clock off early of a Monday when it presents itself?
Over…
Words: Matthew Elvis Brown. Pictures: Andy Miller.
So that time of year has come around again already!
The black clad disciples and pilgrims descend upon the holy shrine known as The Hope and Anchor in Sunny Islington North London.
Once more the focus shines on the pre-gig social – this is not just a gig/go see the band play for an hour or two type affair! This is devotees, fanatics, family and friends making the best of a day out with that hour or two at the end of the day being the icing on the cake! etc ETC EiTC
This particular pilgrim stopped off at Euston en route to pop into the delightful Diwana on Drummond Street to partake of their magnificent buffet lunch at just £6.95 a head.
Fully loaded then continuing on, arriving at the H&A in a thrice to find family, friends and many a disciple in wait for the event.
Straighten Out Pre-Gig:
And so we shy away from the dazzling sunlight of London’s early attempt at spring and head down in to the depths of the darkness for the show…
It’s been said before – but to hear Straighten Out play their super authentic Stranglers tribute in this auspicious venue (an important part of the bands early history) is just more than a bit special.
Close your eyes and think of 1977
It’s as close as one can get to the real thing. Time travel indeed! And to add to the air of authenticity there are one or two of the Stranglers more famous fans around today; in the shape of some Finchley Boys and a Stranglers percussionist.
The audience respond with enthusiasm as Waltzinblack oozes through the speakers and the band strike up into Tank. Shaggy jokes that they’re going to do something novel and play through the whole of the Black and White album but they do no such thing and deliver up a set of classic Stranglers tunes, many of which won’t be played by the MiB themselves later the very same evening.
The crowd lap up every last drop of the musical magnificence and magnificent it is in its authenticity, as they dance, sing along, close their eyes and nod their heads or just stand awe-struck!
I take my place early on near the front in a prime spot for the aural cleansing. I loved the whole lot but if I had to choose a highlight it would have to be Bear Cage as it was just absolutely superb with the whole crowd singing along and chanting on the GMBH! Then of course The Men in Black comes a very close whisker distant second, utterly sublime!
Before long we’re back upstairs continuing the social with fans from far and wide, one of the furthest travelled of whom would have to be Nice and Sleazy who made the journey from Florida!
A few drinks then we poured ourselves through a hole in the pavement to take the subterranean express to Brixton Town. Along the way TBC entertains the whole carriage with his one man punk rock karaoke juke box show and before we knew where we were, we were there… Brixton that is!
No Room at the Inn…
We made our way along to the Beehive only to find there was no room at the inn but persistence eventually paid off and we were granted access. After a bit more chin-wagging with a few more familiars we paid our respects to the Bowie shrine before throwing a U-ie and heading on to the venue…
Not far outside of where, we encounter some unfortunate souls who were denied access in spite of being on a certain bassists guess list! We stand around and chat and offer moral support before eventually making our way into a very packed out Brixton Academy.
Gig Review
Having not been here for some years I was immediately struck by the internal architecture and how the rake of the flooring afforded an excellent view of the stage from almost everywhere one chose to stand on the ground floor. Nice!
We arrived in time for the penultimate song and a half from The Alarm who, while not everyone’s cup of tea, sounded pretty good and were giving it all from what we saw of their performance. And, importantly, the crowd were lapping it up and hemmed in for the support band which also finds in their favour.
I spied Pidge, Alex and Greg and went to say hello… Just then Waltzinblack signalled the arrival of the MiB and the crowd went bananas as they struck into Tank.
From out of nowhere TBC ploughed a furrow down to the barrier where he duly safely delivered one Bellainblack, then Mr and Mrs C joined us and I went from innocent bystander to psychotic hippy in one fell swoop as Mr C engaged bulldozer mode and dragged one and all into the moshpit! A lively hot and sweaty couple of hours of jumping, dancing, singing followed – as the MiB tore through Black and White and more.
And it all made sense. The capacity crowd seemed to love every minute of it. Any concerns as to whether the casual punter would get it seemed insignificant as everyone seemed up for Black and White and beyond.
Once more the stage set was magnificent and on second live hearing Enough Time hit the spot! No mean feat to pull this one off live with all its intricate timing and what have you! The album sounded magnificent.
Then Grip and the stage exploding into colour signalled the beginning of the second part of this evening’s set.
Walk on By captivated once more. And tonight we had 5 minutes added to the set. Dead Ringer, Nuke, IFLAW and the awesome Princess were highlights for me along with the encore number Go Buddy Go which JJ introduced as being ‘Real Pub Rock!’
All too soon were off out once more into the cold London evening to wend our ways home. Hopping on to a carriage at Brixton tube I realised I was surrounded by almost exactly the same good folks with whom I’d shared the journey here previously in the afternoon.
The Stranglers on Tour, so much more than just a bunch of gigs!
Over…
Words: Matthew (EiTC) Brown. Pictures and Videos: David (Toiler on The Sea) Kidd.
Waking bleary eyed in not so sunny South West London, the travellers hitched up their wagon and headed way out west…
Stopping off at a staging post saloon for herbal tea and armed escort to Heathrow!
Where Sib saw us safely aboard the express to Glasgow…
Pre-Gig
Landing in Sunny Scotland we made our way to the delightful 13th Note.
Here we took in a spot of this fabulous establishment’s fine nutritious fayre.
Then heading down to the cellar where a posse of friendly faces from near and far were gathered to enjoy the pre-gig from Local band The Vex…
…who delivered a fine set comprising a selection of Punk Rock and New Wave classics interspersed with their own expertly crafted original material. Top stuff and highly recommended.
Social
We made our way back to the hotel for a spot of rejuvenating Siesta time before heading off out to the pre-gig social…
…On which note philosophers have ruminated on the importance of the pre-gig social – which is indeed a fascinating concept both experientially and conversationally… Leading some to muse that one day in the future ‘this’ is all that there will be… On this occasion we briefly had the pleasure of the company of Lord Alias who has this practise down to a fine art… All things must pass – existing (as we do and all of time does) as a brief flickering moment in the vast unfolding universe… We have one of the greatest bands on the planet with a hoard of fanatical followers resembling and referred to as the Family in Black… Let’s make the most of it while we can! etc ETC EiTC…
Off to a Crystal Palace packed to the gunnels with a great chunk of the aforementioned Fans in Black gathered in anticipation of the imminent Stranglers performance. Following a brief stop off at the Laurieston and a quick Namaste to the Nepalese gentleman, that was exactly what occurred! A Stranglers performance that is!
Gig Review
Arriving inside a packed O2 we set up camp near the mixing desk an unusual move but necessary when knackered! This also afforded a completely different perspective sonically and visually.
Settling just in time for the opening bars of Waltzinblack and to witness the sell-out crowd show their appreciation for The Men in Black…
Black and White
Taking the stage The Stranglers ploughed their way through the entire Black and White album with barely a breath or pause between. The monochrome stage set neatly reflecting the stark juxtaposition of the Black and White theme, most effectively.
Highlights for this part of the set to these ears being the whole album but of course if forced to choose – Dave’s excellent crooning on Do You Wanna closely followed by In The Shadows and Sweden.
At this point, being my first date of the tour I’m still too stunned by Enough Time to have formulated an opinion!…
Part Two
Then…
BOOM!
The lights kicked in to colour and the sound took off with the mighty Grip, a really effective contrast away from the first part of the set giving way to the perma-classic Walk on By, as the band coolly executed the remainder of the set which comprised a mix of classics and hits, old and new.
There followed a bit of banter and mutual appreciation as Baz informed the house that Glasgow was always the highlight of the tour and he doesn’t just say this line at every town…
Highlights part two for EiTC were WoB, (Dave Fave) Dead Ringer, The magnificent Princess of The Streets and Go Buddy Go.
Most notably absent: Stranglers in no Golden Brown Horror Shock!
…A brave move, which didn’t seem to bother the casual punter too much, as they lapped up the other assorted classics and hits.
Observances from afar…
Located as we were in a slightly elevated position toward the back of the venue afforded a unique new perspective (for EiTC)… Most interesting was the phenomenon of witnessing the crowd as a whole responding to the performance. During the more energetic and well known songs they would move and mosh about strongly. In some of the more up-tempo numbers they would respond with a gusto which would plateau out to a more sustainable pace quite quickly. While with some of the newer material and lesser known older material they would appear quite motionless. Yet the response at the end of each song was always rousingly appreciative. etc ETC EiTC
Afterwards we went for a spot of Curry before escorting Antro back to his motor vehicle then making our way back to the hotel.
Homeward
The next day we shared a taxi to the airport with evonx, where we enjoyed his company and that of a few more FiB before a lost passport panic and making it aboard our flight home by the skin of our teeth after a mad dash across the whole of the departure area.
The charming air hostess advised us to take a moment to remind ourselves that we’re really sexy! And before we knew it we were out on the tarmac at Heathrow where SiB collected us and delivered us safely back to our carriage…
Wonky Bus V – The Stranglers/FiB in Holland Nov 20/21 2015.
Where to start…
Well the start itself would be as good a place as any…
But wait; let us backtrack a bit…
Prologue…
Thursday
A dark wet Thursday afternoon somewhere in the South of London, Tooting to be precise, Sree Krishna South Indian Restaurant to focus in a little more. Zoom in on three diners quietly partaking of nourishment:
Bella: “There’s a spare place on Wonky, you up for it?”
A glance passes around the table as the three mutually arrive at the tacit understanding that this could work.
Dibdab: “Well I’m not working tomorrow, so no reason why not!”
EiTC: “All it would take is two phone calls!”
Two phone calls later and it all started happening for the Wonky Stowaway. A mad dash hither and thither saw suitcases packed, passports collected and canines (Russel, Dougal and Rugal) temporarily rehoused. Then four hours kip before the journeys start.
Chapter One.
Friday.
Four hours Later…
Taxi to Victoria Station to meet up with 70 or so similarly obsessed souls to board the Wonky Bus and begin the journey to Holland
Spirits were high even at wtf o’ clock as we wound our way through the emerging dawn light to Dover, stopping off in the heart of Kent en-route to collect more Wonkyites.
A slow pass through Boarder Control (not hindered in any way by the fact that EiTC looks nothing like his passport photo, seriously nothing like! etc, Etc, EiTC) saw us miss our scheduled ferry and go out on the following one. A smooth outbound crossing saw FiB in every corner of the boat. A few of us headed out on to deck for fresh air (Diesel fumes and cigarette smoke in the main) where Missy Lou and Dibdab compared notes on stowaway technique.
In the blink of an eye (seemingly) we were back on the bus, winding from Calais through Belgium to eventually arrive at the beautiful Southern Netherlands city of Eindhoven. Check in was quick at the charming Best Western Hotel, where we were also joined by the North Dutch Posse – Evonx and Mirjam, who were staying at the same hotel. Off to the hotel room for a quick freshen up then out to the delightful Indiaas Restaurant Tajmahal Eindhoven for sustenance before heading back to the hotel in time for the 7pm Wonky departure to the gig.
Aboard the bus, spirits were once again high but in a certain corner on the back seat a mild panic set in, as realisation dawned that we had forgotten our gig tickets, in an almost identical incident to that of Lille last year. A quiet word with our great leader Mr Carne saw the problem resolved and minds put at ease (many thanks Sir O!). Then it was into the venue for tonight’s proceedings the legendary (honestly!) Effenaar.
A spacious capacious venue with a high ceiling that could have reasonably led to some concern over sound issues/echo etc… But this was not to be the case!
Up first Limburg natives No Man’s Valley took the stage with their patented blend of ‘energetic organ rock inspired by the record collection of their parents’. My guess is that their parents were at some time big fans of The Doors! And thank goodness for that!
The first number kicked off with a strong vocal, almost acapella but for a sparse rhythmic accompaniment, impressing the crowd immediately with superb vocal chops and atmosphere.
The band then took us on their musical journey backed up with their punchy drums and melodic guitar, keyboard and bass work. The sound in the Effenaar tonight was crystal clear and amazing.
While it would be unfair to just compare NMV with The Doors, it’s not a bad frame of reference to start with. This is a young band that is unapologetically inspired by the past while being also very much of the present with the energy, performance and creative power they bring to the show.
Not to be missed! Excellent!
We were now at escape velocity rocketing towards Strangling time…
Waltzinblack and they’re off…
With a set beginning not dissimilarly to the summer shows we get 7 stonking barnstormers comprising; Toiler, Straighten Out, Grip, I’ve Been Wild, Curfew, Relentless and Sleazy. With barely a chance to take a breath before we get an extended mellow section not unlike that of The Ruby Tour: Golden Brown, Always The Sun, (then a change of guitars for) Midnight Summer Dream/European Female!
Then it’s back to the electric for Baz as they slowly build the atmosphere back up with the awesome Freedom is Insane. Following this with crowd pleaser Time To Die, before coming back up to full speed with the pair of stonkers Norfolk Coast and I Feel Like A Wog. Two more classic hits in the shape of Skin Deep and Peaches before coming back up to the Mk4 – 3 eras with Time Was Once On My Side and Lost Control respectively. Duchess and No More Heroes and they’re done!
Back on for the encore with All Day and All of The Night followed by Tank and then it’s Goodnight Eindhoven!
That’s the set-list sorted, what about the performance?
Well the Stranglers themselves were on top form giving a performance of their usual high calibre, which saw them playing out of their skins. Dave was grinning madly and clearly enjoying himself as were JJ, Baz and Jim. The sound again was absolutely spot on, with all elements being clear and well balanced. The crowd were hanging on every note/beat.
The Wonkyites and many other non-wonky travellers were making the most of the moment and partying/pogoing/moshing/crowd-surfing like their lives depended on it (maybe something to do with Wonky Virgin Mohawk Dave being at large?), all in a good natured spirited manner. The locals were most welcoming to the visiting tribes as well as joining in with the fun and once again it was really great to be in this fantastic country! Of the surfers, Geordie Keith went over the top of the barrier and face planted with there being no-one there to catch him! Baz looked on concerned (as according to Pam, he was out cold for a while) and leaned over to see if he was okay, just then Keith regained consciousness rose up and planted a smacker on the top of Baz’s Bonce.
Then apres gig the house DJ spun many an Old School Punk/New Wave/Ska tune, which kept all and sundry happy right up until pumpkin time. After which it was back on the bus to the hotel, while some opted to stay on in the centre. Stories of all night drinking and revelry into the small hours came back in various reports. And some of these reports were evidenced by means of physical manifestation the following morning. Others opted for calmer pursuits such as meditation/levitation.
Chapter 2.
Saturday.
A bright start to the day in Eindhoven saw us up in time for breakfast, sustenance gratefully received following the previous night’s candle burning. The breakfast hall was buzzing with chatter about the previous night, the upcoming day, the sights of Eindhoven and even The Sons of The Desert…
The early blue skies had given way to rain and before long it was all aboard the Wonky Bus – destination Leiden. We sailed the old Black River for a smooth crossing, taking in such sights as windmills and dykes and maybe even the odd hill (which may actually have been a heap of soil on a building site), although the biggest reaction (incorporating whoops, cheers and pleas to turn right!) was reserved for the Heineken factory.
Before long we arrived at our hotel the charming IBIS Leiden Centre, opposite Leiden Centraal Railway Station, on what was a chilly, bright/showery afternoon. After dropping off bags, stopping off for tea and admiring windmills and Rainbows, a stroll in to town was next on the agenda. Taking in Music shops, restaurants, pubs and more, we scoped out the preferred venue for tonight’s dinner before heading back to base. Here we encountered more travellers in the shape of Lucy, Rio and Tom at the check-in desk and Mully and Kev around and about there somewhere too.
Then it was off to the delightful Selera Anda Indonesian restaurant for a dinner of flavoursome delights before returning to base to get gig-ready. By now the weather had deteriorated somewhat to a sleety chill.
7pm. saw us gather in reception for the march down to the venue en masse. Several splintered off along the way into various pubs and the like. Arriving at the venue, some opted to go straight in while others opted to see a little more of Leiden.
A small group of us gathered at the pub around the corner from the venue, where we were joined at times by many a gig bound traveller, stopping off to say hello or get some (dodgy) directions. One suave looking chap opted to join/charm us for a while and this dapper chappie turned out to be none other than Jezz Prenton, good to see you Sir! Sir Jason Apollo also turned up and stopped for a wee natter.
Feeling the bite of the chill weather and not wanting to miss the support act we made our way to the venue, Gebr. De Nobel, a smaller venue than last night comprising a square shaped dancefloor surrounded on three sides by three levels of balconies and on the fourth side by the stage itself, a very nice space indeed!
Arriving, as we did, in time to catch most of the set from tonight’s support act No Man’s Valley…
What?
Yes!
No Man’s Valley…
Another blistering set and by now the band could feel the love from the immigrants as lead singer Jasper Hesselink talked to the crowd in English and referenced The Stranglers quite a bit.
The sound was not as clear tonight as it had been in Eindhoven but it was still sounding great and went down a storm with the crowd.
Having the opportunity to see this band for a second consecutive night was a privilege indeed and underlined the already winning first impression with more proof of their quality as they delivered another solid performance. Fab stuff!
Another friendly Dutch audience tonight, stood shoulder to shoulder and side by side with the slightly bonkers Wonkers and other assorted tourists. Among them there were a few familiar faces in Black; Anna-Bunny, Dominique, Marcel, Jacqueline and Jan.
Just then…
The lights dimmed and…
Waltzinblack, Toiler, Straighten Out, Grip, I’ve Been Wild, Curfew, Relentless, Nice n Sleazy, Golden Brown, Always The Sun, Midnight Summers Dream, European Female, Freedom is Insane, Time to Die, Norfolk Coast, I Feel Like a Wog, Skin Deep, Peaches, Time Was Once On My Side, Lost Control, Duchess and No More Heroes rounded out the main set. (Try saying that in one breath… “That!”… Alright smartarse! etc Etc EiTC)
Then,
Walk on By (Sublime), All Day and All of The Night (Most I’ve ever enjoyed this one) and Tank!
The MiB were on fine form tonight for this, the end of their European tour. While the sound was not as clear as last night’s, it was still superb and Baz, Dave, Jim and JJ delivered the goods most convincingly with style, panache and just a little dash of menace.
At the end of the set the band took bows and came forward to thank and shake hands with the crowd, a nice touch!
During the previous night at Eindhoven Baz had asked the Dutch what they thought of the Mad English crowd which while getting a good reaction also provoked a bit of a backlash from the non-English Wonkyites and travellers. This was taken into consideration tonight as Baz made amends and then he and JJ took delivery of Scottish and Welsh flags amid much mirth and merriment before bursting into an impromptu rendition of The Bonny Banks O’ Loch Lomond. Superb!
The crowd were once again lively and up for it with some creative surfing, at one point TBC must have been aloft for at least a couple of minutes!
On Peaches the night before in Eindhoven ‘worse places to be’ culminated in ‘Down in The Sewer or even Inside Barry Spooners Mind’ whereas tonight Baz refined it to the more poetic couplet ‘Down in The Sewer or sharing a bunk with Barry Spooner…’ Gold!
A few stayed on for more drinks and dancing at the venue before heading out to pubs and bars for shenanigans lasting well into the wee small hours, in spite of the 9.30 am departure time the following morning (which in some cases turned out to be in an hour or so!). While others again dispersed here and there. We once again opted for Levitation! Top night!
Chapter Three.
Sunday.
The 9:30 am departure time saw us rising early in time to make breakfast before the off. A lot of the crowd were looking well and truly shell-shocked and somewhat lived in this morning, having been partying for the best part of two days now.
We said our goodbyes to those that were staying on and those going back by other methods. Campbell was flying back and hoping to make it home in time to catch Hugh Cornwell in Oran Mor.
All aboard the bus for the long drive back to Calais. Talk of closed borders at Belgium leading to possible delays didn’t materialise as we made it through to British Passport Control at Calais in good time. Once again EiTC’s dissimilarity to his passport caused some mirth/concern and I duly informed the lovely immigration officer that her fiver was in the post! In contrast to getting a later ferry on the way out, we got an earlier one on the way back, which was nice…
A spot of lunch and then a stroll around deck saw us catching up with FiB from one end of the boat to the other, and then spending the last part of the cruise on the aft deck before disembarking back in Dover. A striking and persistent sunset welcomed us back to Blighty as we crossed the Kent country side where we spotted these strange protrusions emanating up from the ground (hills).
London traffic saw our drivers improvising a little by diverting from the A2 on to the South Circular, allowing us to take in the sights of Sunny SE London (or home as Pidge would call it!); the uninitiated grabbed their purses a little tighter!
Before we knew it, we were back to civilisation (or South West London as it is known) as the bus pulled up to its final destination Victoria. A few farewells and we all went our separate ways, some home, some to the nearest pub etc Etc EiTC…
Epilogue.
It’s now several days after and the senses are just beginning to return to their normal level of dysfunction. It’s been a fantastic, euphoric and at times emotional journey!
So to sum up a fab weekend in even fabber company!
Huge heartfelt thanks must go to The Stranglers and Owen and Jacquie Carne. (Without whom!).
Blimey! here we go again… Not unlike, your London Bobbies and Buses… You wait for what could conceivably be called an eternity for a review… Then three come along at once… It never rains but it pours etc Etc EiTC… Oh well, here goes…
Ladies first!
Hugh Cornwell – Union Chapel – 2-11-15.
A small article in The Times on Monday 2nd November said that Christians who are vocal about their faith are more likely to put their acquaintances off God than attract them to find out more about Jesus… Don’t mention the religious tracts and stick a gig on in a church and those with their own true belief will come… Even on a Monday!
The Hugh faithful know that you cannot convert with talk but on a foggy night in Islington the voice was there to speak for itself. But as it was a foggy Monday unsurprisingly the chapel wasn’t as full as it had been two years ago on a chilly Saturday. There was plenty of room on the pews meaning that everyone must have been able to get a good view towards the pulpit.
There was also an abundance of heating. Maybe even too much heat which combined with a hot chocolate and a Tunnock’s teacake (available from the handy kiosk at the back of the hall) could have been soporific but the hard seating counteracted any tendency to nod off.
Added to this were the excellent acoustics that let Hugh’s voice ring out. There were ten Stranglers songs performed before a half hour interval. Hugh started with Strange Little Girl, the first song penned as The Stranglers, and then followed with a song and anecdotes from each album up to Dreamtime.
A few sharp intakes of breath at the omission of 10 as people headed to the bar, tea bar or to the usher’s ice cream tray. Hugh, however, did have a plan and came back with Break of Dawn from Wolf, placing it neatly in chronological order before Man of the Earth. He then played a song from each of his subsequent solo albums finishing with a look to the future (and hints that an album is due next year) in the form of one of his newest songs, La Grande Dame.
Difficult to pick a favourite from the selection played. Second Coming followed by Tramp was very special. In trying to write other highlights I more or less find myself typing out the set list in its entirety. Outside Tokyo, Black Hair Black Eyes Black Suit, Beat of My Heart, and Never Say Goodbye.
To mention that I would have preferred a different track from T&T to the one played (I Want One of Those, which I find a bit of a dirge) is a minor quibble and one that was rectified by the addition of Gods, Guns and Gays in the encore. The only track that didn’t work for me was Dagenham Dave. When I last saw Hugh play an electric set at Weyfest in September this was the track that I least enjoyed then too. For me it needs keyboards, no other substitute is acceptable.
By Hugh’s charming admission, following a few botched chords, he is a singer first and foremost and only took up the guitar to accompany himself. Did I mention his voice? It was spot on in the chapel. No point preaching to the unconverted but anyone who fell in love with the Stranglers based on any of the first ten albums really should experience hearing them sung by the original voice. Acoustic gigs might not be the answer to everyone’s prayers but this was the best that I’ve heard from Hugh.
Praise be. Go in peace.
Over…
Words: Gill Baglady. Photos: EiTC.
Legends Next…
Hugh Cornwell The Union Chapel Islington Monday 2nd November.
As the yearly Hugh Cornwell Autumn Tour rolls into town, it is always a gamble as to what it is going to be; a full band tour or Hugh alone on his tod with an Acoustic Guitar. I am a big fan of His electric gigs, last year’s gig at The Brighton Concorde 2 was one of the best times I have ever seen him. I thought he was going to follow it through as he has been electric for most of the year. But this year it was an acoustic tour (these seem to becoming a thing of the norm in recent years). The Times I have seen him acoustic are 2006 Telford, 2008 Ronnie Scott’s, 2012 Bush Hall and 2013 Sale. So my 25th Hugh Gig will be at The Union Chapel a venue I have never been to before. Before the gig I had a Great time meeting fellow Burning Up Time Forumster John Cooper and his girlfriend Lynsey in the Legendary Hope and Anchor. A couple more people turned up of whose names escape me. At 7.30 me, John, Lynsey and co make our way to The Union Chapel. Inside is Matt Brown, Graham Flowers, Gill, Bill and Kat, time to take our seats!
Hugh comes on promptly at 8pm. Dressed in a suit that looks tailor made for him. He thanks everyone for coming and tells the Audience what to expect, a set of two halves – one from his Strangler days and one from his solo days…
He straps on his guitar and tells us a story about the first song The Stranglers ever wrote with Biochemist friend from Sweden Hans Wärmling, of course it was the brilliant Strange Little Girl. He spoke of his time in Sweden and Johnny Sox and said it was like his school of rock.
He then goes into Grip from Rattus Norvegicus, Dagenham Dave from No More Heroes, and the brilliant Outside Tokyo from Black and white. This is the first time I have ever heard him do this. Stories are told very quickly and The Raven Story was that the record company, wanted to fly a band member to Japan, First Class to approve a new hologram 3D sleeve. So Hugh flew from The UK to Japan, First Class. Outside a limousine was waiting for him to take him to the Japanese studio. He had a look at the sleeve and said “Yeah that looks alright” and went back to England. They wouldn’t do that these days as it would cost a fortune. The song played from the raven was Duchess. Onto the Stranglers Darkest period The Meninblack, Hugh got put in Pentonville prison for possession of Drugs. In Prison the only thing to read was the Bible. So Hugh Read it and when he came out started to work with JJ on the next album The Gospel according to the Meninblack. Of which the record company did not like, naughty Stranglers as Hugh Said impersonating someone from the record company “There are no hit singles on this record go back and make another”. A big surprise was in store for us in the shape of Second Coming my favourite of the gig.
Next up Hugh says “So the record company says – the next album there has to be a smash hit or you’re finished, finito! So we come up with Golden Brown, and that was a massive smash hit. But the important thing is to follow up one smash hit with another. The record company and me wanted to release Tramp. Brilliant I thought, two smash hits in a row that I wrote y’know I was more than pleased, but we went away and came back and JJ persuaded the band to release La Folie a song in French, that didn’t do very well at all” Tramp is played next.
The Stranglers leave Emi Hugh says, Every Mistake Imaginable as they are known by the band and move to CBS (Epic, which he also joked was English Product Ignored Completely! etc Etc EiTC) in 1982 and in 1983 they release Feline off which Hugh plays Never Say Goodbye, then No Mercy From Aural Sculpture and Always the Sun from Dreamtime follow which ends the first half of the set.
The second half of the set Hugh comes on and says “in 1990 I took a walk from The Stranglers, did various collaboration albums, but while I was still in the stranglers I released a solo album called Wolf and here’s a song from it Break of dawn”. (After which Hugh then played Man of the earth from 10, his last record with The Stranglers… etc Etc EiTC).
The solo Hugh set list I thought was a bit predictable (IMO) as he is usually more adventurous with it. First Bus to Babylon followed from the Wired album, my favourite of his solo set, from Guilty – Black Hair, Black eyes Black suit. Then from HIFI we get Lay back on me Pal, from Hooverdam Beat of my Heart, from Totem and Taboo I Want One of Those.
Hugh then says to follow the trend of releasing a solo album once every 4 years he has got the songs ready and is on the ball and plays a new song La Grande Dame. That finishes the second set.
Hugh comes on for the encore and explains there is a DVD called Anthology on sale from the acoustic tour in 2013 recorded at Aberdeen. On it there is a number for a competition to win a poster that Hugh found in his loft for the charity cricket match – The Stranglers VS the Media at Paddington in 1979. He will be doing a draw at the end of the tour so keep hold of it. One Burning Desire from Guilty, Gods Guns and Gays from Totem and Taboo, and he finishes of with the mariachi version of Golden Brown. At the end of the gig I buy the DVD and compilation album The Fall and Rise of Hugh Cornwell and the single Under her spell CD2. I have a little chat with Hugh. Matt, Graham, Gill and See The Little Nuclei. Then it is time to make our way home. There is a strike on apparently. But I get home before midnight. Another good night out seeing Hugh!
Over…
Words and Photos: The Legendary Pigeon.
And finally your old mucker EiTC…
Gig Review – Hugh Cornwell – Union Chapel Islington – 2nd Nov 2015.
In the Pews with Hugh…
Sunday saw a real Pea-souper which kind of set us up for a gloomy Monday in foggy ol’ London Town. What with it being a school night and all, there just wasn’t that much to get excited about…
…Wait! Scratch that!
The sugar-tongs were set to cross the River Thames (the River Thames is cold!) and head through the central London evening rush into the wilds of the North (Islington to be precise) to spend an evening at church…
I stopped off en-route at the delightful Diwana in Drummond Street Euston for some nourishing sustenance, before getting back in the race with the other rats and eventually arriving at Union Chapel to meet up with Lil, Lefty and Andyw. Inside the church the flock had turned out en Masse, a healthy congregation indeed for a miserable Monday evening in November – including; Pigeon, Bat and Kill, Mike Aboud, MonikaJ (aka seethelittlenuclei) and Nell, Aldinblack and the Pharbours to name a few. The faithful gathered around the alter filling the pews in anticipation. And tonight the sermon was being delivered by none other than Hugh Cornwell!
Around the dot of 8ish the lights dimmed, the crowd buzzed and Hugh took the stage, where he proceeded to take control of the Sugar Tongs guiding us on a journey through time spanning some 40 plus years.
Kicking off with “the first song The Stranglers ever wrote” Strange Little Girl, Hugh then proceeded to weave his way through every record from both his Stranglers days and his Solo career. Choosing one song to represent each release, he interspersed these with tales and good humoured banter relating to each of these periods. Hugh comes across as warm, sincere, and funny while displaying a hint of humility and genuine appreciation towards the audience.
The set tonight was totally different to the previous acoustic tour in 2013, with some nice surprises. Highlights for me being too numerous but special mention to Second Coming, Outside Tokyo, Grip and Tramp from the Stranglers canon and Under Her Spell, Lay Back on Me Pal, Beat of My Heart and maybe, or maybe not, One Burning Desire (which according to Guilford Lil – Lefty said Pidge told him to tell her was definitely probably in the set, although I’m sure OBD was in there somewhere – etc Etc EiTC!).
Observation… While we’re on the subject of Hugh’s acoustic gigs, in my review of last year’s Electric performance at the Electric Ballroom, I mentioned that songs like Duchess and Grip didn’t seem to particularly work without the keyboards, while others like Straighten Out and Sleazy were on fire. Not so tonight! Grip was slowed down a little and with Hugh’s strong-arm strumming sounded perfect with an air of Velvet Underground about it. Duchess too was Top Drawer! etc Etc EiTC…
The sound tonight was great, with the acoustic sounding silky smooth in this large chapel (much better than the sound of two years ago). Hugh took a few false starts in his stride while joking with the crowd. While the melodic picking on his more intricate solo material was a sonic tonic for the lug holes! And the voice! Oh the voice! Despite appearing a little under the weather and chugging lozenges like no-ones business, it’s always a delight to hear Hugh sing and tonight was no exception.
Gig Review – Straighten Out – The Hope and Anchor – London 12th September 2015.
The Genuine Article?
Arriving before we left, we found ourselves at our destination several decades ahead of setting out. Which was just as well, given the unpredictable, rambunctious nature of Sugar Tong Powered Travel.
The Time was 1977. The place was The Hope and Anchor in Islington, London, UK. The reason was The Stranglers…
…Well, it was and it wasn’t!
You see, as any amount of finger tapping on the glass panel of the chronometer display failed to alert us to the contradictive nature of the collective experience currently responsible for the delusion under which we were labouring…
…Yes, the destination was the Hope and Anchor. But the time was not 1977 it was 2015! And, as it turns out, the reason was Straighten Out!
Straighten Out the UK’s Premier Stranglers Tribute band in London for the second of their biannual appearances at this legendary venue…
…The Hope and Anchor, newly refurbished back to its original configuration, with the stage at the rear of the venue and the bar at the front (as opposed to the vice versa arrangement of preceding years). Making better use of the tiny cellars acoustics and allowing more room for both band and reveller alike to do their respective things! While adding yet another layer of authenticity to the experience of the Sisters and Brothers of the Order of The Men in Black (SaBoTooTMiB) as they make their Autumnal pilgrimage to this venerated site…
And so it was that the mass gathered to pay their respect to Phil, Shaggy, Mick and Micky as they dished out another blinder. (Having caught up with Shaggy earlier he informed me that a few surprises were in store tonight, not least no (Waltzinblack) intro and a new (much smaller) bass rig.)
Straighten Out took to the stage (sans intro) and proceeded to inform us (to our very delight) that tonight they would be performing Rattus Norvegicus in its entirety plus assorted other gems of the Strangler variety. Thus they blasted from Sometimes through Sewer with a skilful, spirited and sweaty ease. The crowd showed their appreciation by going bananas in a manner most befitting of such a fine display of craft, including but not limited to much dancing (including a strange phenomenon known as The Antler Dance), cheering, leaping, whistling, chanting and air keyboard/guitar/bass/drums. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house (due not to tears but to sweat).
And the sound, well it’s been said before but it’s still relevant – close your eyes and you could’ve been there in 1977! Mick’s keys sounding superb due to both their authenticity and his superb playing. Micky’s Drums tight and punchy, Phil’s Tele and Twin combo biting and (importantly) audible! And last but by no means least Shaggy’s physics defying bass – with his new ‘Tardis’ bass rig, he threw away the pint pot and managed to fit the quart into a thimble – out of which there came a huge growling, crunching take no prisoners Precision projection. All of which topped off with very accurate vocal deliveries from Phil, Shaggy and Mick plus a sprinkle of sparkling menace for good measure, made for much MiB Manna!
Did I say they sounded good tonight? No, I meant they sounded F**king Sublime!
Hugh Cornwell played at the Weyfest Festival in Surrey – Guildford Lil gives us the lowdown…
I was initially lured to Weyfest when the Stranglers played there in 2010. I was then so won over by this most civilised festival that I have been coming back every year since, seeing it as a chance for me to unwind and for my children to go feral. I purchased my ticket for this year back in October when none of the line-up had been announced. As the artists were gradually announced over the following months there were few that I knew and rather a lot that I had never even heard of. In mid-July came the announcement that The Troggs (yes, I’d heard of them) would not be able to attend and would be replaced by Hugh Cornwell. Bonus!
This isn’t a review of the entire festival but I have to mention that I went to see Inside Information play on the Old Kiln Stage. I was basing my decision on the flimsy connection to Hugh’s account of his time in Pentonville having the same title as the band’s name. I was surprised to see that the bass player was a former work friend of my husband’s. For a computer nerd he rocked pretty well and I stayed for several songs.
The other honourable mention of the weekend goes to the Charley Farley Sunday Four’s performance of Golden Brown. Always a delight and I am continued to be indebted to Mr Bloggs for passing on a recommendation to see them that he was given a couple of years back.
Weyfest was a little quieter this year than in previous years. This may have been down to a slight change to the weekend it was held which meant that the schools had already gone back but what the audiences lacked in numbers they continued to provide in enthusiasm.
At 18.20 on Saturday I joined the small group at the barrier of the Village Green Stage to enjoy the sound check and admire the Totem and Taboo banner that had been strung across the back of the stage. At 18.30 Hugh, Chris and Caz formally took the stage. They were well received and the audience swelled in numbers throughout the set. It was the familiar pattern of a solo song alternated with a Stranglers song. As expected T&T featured heavily (the title track, Stuck in Daily Mail Land, I Want One of Those, God is a Woman, Gods, Guns and Gays, A Street Called Caroll) with just Beat of My Heart thrown in for variety. Representing the Stranglers were Skin Deep, Dagenham Dave, Duchess, Strange Little Girl, Grip, Peaches, Straighten Out and an encore of Sleazy and No More Heroes.
The tunes were blasted out with energy and zest and received by the audience with gentle but keen, warm appreciation. Splinters were flying from the back of the stage and Chris finished up Daily Mail Land with about two thirds of one drumstick remaining. Hugh had bass levels tweaked at the beginning of the set and even JJ must have felt it during Peaches (although it was less prominent by NMH in my opinion). A Street Called Caroll didn’t pause before it was straight into Straighten Out. Was this truly a proper segue? A jury may decide in its favour another time.
Strange Little Girl produced the biggest crowd reaction when it started up. The Stranglers please note: no one was shouting for Golden Brown or Always the Sun and no one seemed to miss them. There were several calls for Nice and Sleazy and ultimately those punters were satisfied unlike the optimistic cry for Genetix from someone. Only a handful of Stranglers t-shirts had been in evidence during the day but along with them a lot of Weyfest regulars had chosen to wear their 2010 and 2013 t-shirts which bear the band name too. A friendly bunch. Hugh introduced songs at times and commented about how nice it was having a village green atmosphere but noted how cold it was “I was picking mushrooms last week, in August, not magic mushrooms, too early for those.”
A technical hitch almost lost us the encore that managed to get squeezed into the tight festival schedule (most of the bands appearing on the main Beekeeper’s Stage were denied an encore no matter how enthusiastic the audiences). Hugh returned to the stage to find his guitar strap was hanging off when he picked up the Telecaster. A quick search of the stage found the offending bolt (or whatever was required) and disaster averted. It was a short set, as expected, but the crowd left satisfied and I spoke with several people who were impressed.
Hopefully Hugh will return to Weyfest soon. Too much to hope for but Hugh Cornwell on Saturday and The Stranglers on Sunday? A girl can dream!
After a cold night I awoke to find that Chris Bell and Caz Campbell had pitched their mini camping corral next to my tent. I had to give in to temptation and have a chat. Chris confirmed that he was down to his last drumstick by the end of the set “must have been hitting something wrong” was his opinion. Meanwhile I can confirm that Caz still looks that good even early in the morning after a night in a tent, in case anyone doubted it, wf.
To bring the recent run of Stranglers gig reviews to a fitting conclusion and definitely forwards in going backwards, Gill Baglady recalls from her very own memory events from 14th August…
Guest Review – The Stranglers – Tyntesfield – 14-8-15.
Delightful review as always Agent IntheClouds. (Thank you kindly Ma’am)
Last things first: on my return to south Devon I found the sky was the clearest that I have seen it for a long time, chasing thoughts of sleep away as I settled down to observe the Milky Way and a few spare Perseids shooting by. Magnificent.
Before that: exiting the croquet lawn via gently undulating paths lit with hundreds of tea lights in lanterns after a Stranglers gig, felt like a unique experience but one that I would be more than willing to repeat. A word of thanks to the kind staff and volunteers who not only lit all those candles but did not herd us away from the stage in a hurry, most genteel.
In the middle: a splendid gig brought to us by a familiar set of gentlemen who initially took the stage in jackets although their caution was unwarranted and the night clement.
Prior to that: Donkey Hot Pink who had come a long way. And possibly still had further to go. Ahead of them I caught only a couple of tracks from Howard in the Leaves. As Mr Warne commented, where do they get these names from? Random generator, perchance Sir? (Perhaps Ma’am, although someone may have missed a trick with the excellent device name itself! eitc Eitc EiTC)
Earlier: M5, thanks, excellent fuel consumption per mile at those speeds (got to look at the positives, haven’t we?)
Previously in the day: I was only permitted a small amount of wedding anniversary Prosecco, the price I had to pay but worth the trade off!
