There was a post doing the rounds on Facebook in the last couple of weeks, which required people to compile lists of bands they had seen live. It reminded me that I still had to post Part 2 in the series! Here it is….originally written a few years ago but all just as valid……
Regular readers of this blog (are there any? Show yourselves!) will know that for various reasons my blog-brain is having trouble shifting itself from the mid 1980s. I am going to ask that you indulge me once again as I have a little nostalgic wallow. I spent a long time, you see, distancing myself from my teenage years; but as an older dragon I am almost enjoying looking back at myself with the benefit of hindsight.
Let me take you to Battersea in south London in the summer of 1985. Picture a group of teens and early-twenty-somethings emerging from a dark blue, windowless Transit, engulfed in fag smoke, and suffering heat exhaustion, having driven down from Essex earlier that morning. One of them is a pale, skinny dark-haired girl in an ankle-length strappy sundress that she bought from Oxfam, her nails bitten and her shoulders rapidly burning in the fierce city sun. Meet me, the Young Dragon, and a bunch of people I barely knew, attending the second GLC Jobs for a Change free concert. Before its abolition in 1986, the Greater London Council, under the leadership of ‘Red’ Ken Livingstone, was a constant thorn in the side of the Thatcher government; one of its better wheezes was to post the London jobless total daily on the roof of GLC headquarters, where it could be seen directly from the Houses of Parliament across the river. The GLC campaigned for reduced fares on trains and buses, invited Gerry Adams to talks (in the event, he wasn’t allowed into the country), and championed Nelson Mandela when the Iron Lady still thought he was a terrorist. And for two years they also held a free music festival. The first one in 1984 (*checks interwebs*) was held in the Jubilee Gardens, and the acts included Billy Bragg, Hank Wangford (more of whom in Part III) and The Smiths. So popular was it that a second event was held in July of the following year, in the larger environs of Battersea Park, to an audience that has been estimated to number between a quarter and half a million people.
My memories of the day are fuzzy, but happy. Surrounded by Amnesty tables and wholefood stalls, I wandered barefoot in the park, eating lemonade ice lollies and sitting on the parched grass listening to The Pogues, Terry and Gerry, The Men They Couldn’t Hang*, and Mr Red Wedge himself, Billy Bragg. How much of the political message hit home it was hard to say; and I am not about to go all misty-eyed and claim that back then, when the enemy was wearing a skirt and living in No 10, that it was all so much simpler and possibly even more innocent. Often when people claim this, it’s not the simplicity and innocence of the times they miss, it’s their own youth. But having said that, I still blame that woman for a large part of society’s ills, and I am still a member of Amnesty International, having joined at the GLC Jobs for a Change Festival. Thank you, Ken.
Whilst I remember little of what The Pogues played that day, I did use the fact that I had seen them live to impress the lassies in the Summer Isles café in 1987. I worked for a summer in Achiltibuie, on the north-west coast of Scotland, serving lunches, doing dishes and cleaning rooms at the Summer Isles Hotel. One of the girls there, Theresa, was a huge fan of Runrig and Silly Wizard (‘Oh, there’s sober men and plenty, and drunkards barely twenty….’ – the band that started Freeland Barbour and Phil Cunningham), and she also had a cassette of Rum, Sodomy and the Lash by The Pogues. We played that tape to death. We knew every word. We whirled and wailed like banshees to The Sick Bed of Cúchulainn, jigged furiously to Sally MacLennane and belted out I’m a Man You Don’t Meet Every Day whilst roaring drunk on the four mile stagger home from the pub.
During my second year at Uni, The Pogues released If I Should Fall From Grace With God, and they announced a promotional tour, which included a date at the legendary/infamous/notorious Glasgow Barrowlands. I went with Steve, my boyfriend at the time, and the gig was just before Christmas, with the album’s single, Fairytale of New York, nearing the top of the charts. I can’t remember getting there or back, but I think it might have been in a minibus organised by Rocksoc of the students’ union. I do remember walking into the venue and being alarmed (well-brought up girl that I was) by the sticky floor, the crusty patches on the walls, and the general air of shabbiness. Two hours later, I was thoroughly convinced that this was a venue worthy of such an awesome band. Steve and I managed to get right to the front of the crowd, pressed up against the stage where the band played, and boy, did they play! It was utterly exhilarating to watch and listen, and those songs have never sounded better. A quick check on Wiki-p and I can tell you that Shane McGowan, who looked as if he could drop dead at any moment (and still does), wrote almost all those songs; and he performed them as if his life depended on it, whilst snarling with contempt at the world and its feeble efforts to understand his aching, tortured, simple, hungry, riotous, Irish heart. I fell head over heels in love with him. And just when I thought it couldn’t get any better……they struck up the intro to Fairytale and Kirsty McCall walked onstage…..it was a blissful night, and I even bought the T-shirt. I still get misty-eyed when I look back to that gig, (especially given Kirsty’s tragically early demise) and were I to stick my neck out I would name it my favourite gig of all time.
*whilst doing ‘research’ for this blog I did an internet search for The Men They Couldn’t Hang, and they have their own website! The quality merchandise available includes a rather spiffy cigarette lighter: smoking is now the ultimate act of rebellion, so well done them. I am delighted to report that they are still going strong and have just started a 10-date UK tour, including Southampton, Edinburgh and Glasgow. I’ve got no idea whether they are still any good, but I intend to search YouTube for clues. See research? It’s great.
While many of the names of entertainers are unknown to me your post reminds me of younger days. “barefoot in the park and eating iced lemonade lollies’ … makes me wonder how many youth of today will recall their younger days of such simplicity.
Memories are great … they connect today with yesterday:) [and at the same time bring the realisation that yesterday may have been quite some time ago]