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 :)
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