Top ten .... gigs man (part 3)

It's funny which gig tickets you keep, and which you discard.  Around this time I was also enjoying the 'World Music' which was being championed by both John Peel and Andy Kershaw on BBC Radio One.  I was into Youssou N'dour before he had his hit single with Nenah Cherry and latterly became a politician in his home country of Senegal.  If he was touring at that time he didn't make it to Blackburn.

Happily for me, I saw both 'The Real Sounds of Africa', and the Bhundu Boys (both from Zimbabwe) in the Windsor Suite at Blackburn King Georges Hall.  I don't remember if they were on the same billing, or even on the same night, but I do remember that the Bhundu Boys in particular were insanely the most energetic and energising band I've ever seen.  They danced and played and danced in the audience, and played and danced some more, and I felt transcendental, uplifted - by their music, their energy, and their spirit.  The fact that they didn't sing in English was neither here not there.  The music and their voices communicated a simple human happiness, and a simplicity in our shared humanity.  We were all the same, we were all dancing and we were all happy.  Their lead singer, Biggie Tembo, was unforgettably charismatic, with his brightly printed shirt, and sweat dripping down from the smile he radiated.  I don't remember ever being so hot (from all the dancing) and so happy, so hoarse from cheering, and sore from clapping.  They may have been the best.  Number 6 in the all time top ten:  Bhundu Boys.

In at number 7, although I don't have the ticket stubs to prove it, and a couple of years later, 1989 maybe, I saw, with a particular boyfriend at the time, Public Enemy.  They were playing in Manchester, and were supported by Run-DMC or the Beastie Boys.  Again, the exact details elude me in the mists of time, but Public Enemy, they made an impression.  Oh my god, they were LOUD.  Loud and foul-mouthed, with motherf----r this and motherf----r that all over the show.  They were dressed in camouflage, the usual hip-hop chains and gangster imagery with guns (real or in the film-reel?) and strobe lights, and roving spotlights, and a manic stage act as the two lead singers cross-rapped and criss-crossed in front of each other over and around the stage, on and off the stage, even at one point running along the gangtry of the upper circle with the spotlight chasing them through the audience, as if being sought by the police or some authority or enemy.  They were visceral and heart pounding, although I'm not sure in a good way.  Unforgettable.  Although again, I'm not sure in a good way.  Whilst I bought records of the Bhundu Boys and The Real Sounds of Africa, I don't remember buying Public Enemy.  Must have been the boy I was seeing at the time...  Don't, don't, don't, don't, DON'T believe the hype.

Absolutely in at number 8, and again in a different lifetime, moving on, and in a different place, we were lucky to see Nina Simone.  Mid 1990s now, and in London.  I think it was at the Mean Fiddler, but that doesn't matter.  She was mesmeric.  A real Diva, at once imperious and heart-breaking, then joyful and child-like.  She had the audience in the palm of her hand, we danced to her tune, and if at first she was a little croaky and off-key, we soon realised it was because she hadn't warmed up before coming on stage, and by about song number four or five we knew that we were fortunate to be in the presence of a divinity, a living god.  She sang one song twice, a little to the consternation of the band, and to the amusement of the audience, because she wanted to.  Truly great, unforgettable in a good way.

Well, just had a quick(ish) interlude to skype with my husband who's in the good old U.S. of A.  It's late, and there may well be a bun-fight between the few remaining gigs for the last two places on my list.  Why did I set the limit at only ten?

Night y'all.  Kat  :)

My top ten .... Gigs, man (part two)

I saw a lot of gigs in the late 1980s.  I was an Indie girl - into music that was independently produced and distributed.  None of the mainstream Stock Aiken and Waterman that dominated the airwaves for me thank you very much!  I didn't want style over substance pop, wasn't looking to swoon over the next pretty boy lead singer or formula-ted boy band.

I wanted something more real.  Street.  Credible.  Raw.  But above all I wanted music with a strong beat which you could throw your body around to (you couldn't call it dancing).  I didn't look for harmony, that was too simple, too smooth and too last decade/generation for me.  I needed lyrics which were more than a love song, I was looking to identify with someone who spoke my language.

I have seen, and been blown away by, and also wanted to crawl away and die for, Mark E Smith, of The Fall, many times.  I've lost count and can't remember the individual times I've seen them live, but at a rough guess I'd say at least six. 

The first time I saw The Fall play live was at The Festival of the Tenth Summer, at Manchester's G-mex venue Saturday 19th July,1986, three days before my 21st birthday.  They were on stage early in the day, around 1pm, and the halls had yet to fill.  I was already aware of their songs from listening to John Peel's late night show on Radio One, and they, or rather he, struck me in the guts with his non-sensical chanted/spoken delivery of the songs/poetry over the driving thumping beat of a backbone to the music that demanded my attention, and made my pulse race.  I think this was probably my first visceral experience of a music event that left me shaken to the core and emotionally drained, in strangely good way.  Visually he made an impression as well, dressed in what appeared to be full English hunting gear, whip in hand, Scarlet jacket, jodphurs and riding boots, striking a pose in the middle of the stage, as though this was the most normal thing to be wearing in the middle of the summer.

The next really memorable gig (1988) was after they had collaborated with the contemporary ballet dancer/choreographer Michael Clark to produce the music for the dance production 'I am Kurious Oranj'.  We'd travelled to Manchester again but I can't remember the venue, part pub, part club I think. We arrived late, got our drinks and went into to a darkened room with the familiar Fall sounds filling the air.  Mark E. Smith was doing his thing, but this time the spotlights were on the two male ballet dancers performing part of the routine.  I think they were on podiums to raise them up, but away from the stage, and within the crowd.  They were wearing traditional white tu-tus and I think they may have also had headwear from Swan Lake, but I'm no ballet expert, and my memory isn't brilliant. 

What struck me was their footwear. The only way I can describe it is 'yeti' boots.  Imagine a very hairy wellington boot, I mean VERY hairy, cumbersomely so.  Then try to picture these tu-tu-ed ballet boy swans, dancing in these yeti boots, en pointe - on tip-toe - to Mark E Smith growling/drawling something incomprehensible to a driving thumping pounding drum beat with the bass guitar trying to keep up, the guitarist keeping their eye on the singer, and the keyboard player melding with everything, and the ballet dancers' dancing being sublime, adding to the show, expanding the experience and somehow definitely being the icing on the cake.  I've got goosebumps again just remembering it.

Another trip into Manchester, and they were crap. Or, rather, he was crap.  Mumbling, rocking, rolling around on stage, obviously drunk, obviously wrong place wrong time, but also pathetic, upset, and upsetting, and nasty.  The show finished early, the rest of the band looked pissed off, the crowd were none too pleased as well.  The next edition of the NME (New Musical Express - newspaper for musicians) announced that Mark E Smith had split up from his wife (Brix Smith) because she'd cheated on him with classical violinist Nigel Kennedy. Made sense of the gig, and made me question the pressure performers are put under and that they put themselves under....

Nevertheless, my all time top ten live gigs number 4 - The Fall.

Back to the Festival of the Tenth Summer - 19th July 1986. The other standout performance and headliners was by The Smiths. The afternoon had progressed with other notable bands including Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark and New Order.  The day was a complete celebration of Manchester's finest influential music makers, and well before Manchester got the 'Madchester' reputation of house music and rap and ecstacy and trouble.

The penultimate act was New Order, one of my all time favourite bands who I've seen many times, but the climax was The Smiths.  This was the only time I saw them live, and less than a year later they'd split up, (nothing to do with me!).  The halls were in darkness, the last of the evening's sunlight filtering through over the back of the stage through the huge fanlights of the building's curved roof.  (The G-mex used to be Manchester Central Railway Station - see link for short history / pictures here:  http://manchesterhistory.net/manchester  ).

Then before The Smiths came on stage, they played the opening to Prokofiev's Montagues and Capulets (from Romeo and Juliet, 1935). Whenever I hear that music now, I am transported back to that crowd, the anticipation of the event to come, and the huge upsurge of an unanimous roar of approval as The Smiths came on stage, and did their set, Morrissey with his billowing white shirt, tight denim jeans, and gladioli flowers that he swooshed around the stage, and the crowd went wild. 

As it happens I don't actually remember much about the gig after that, but that first impression, and the fact that I can say 'I saw The Smiths' is really all I need.

Top ten gigs number 5. The Smiths.

Keeping it real!

Kat :)