What Gig's Have You Been To?

Couldn't see a thread dedicated to live music.

I went to see The Specials last night at Rock City,Nottingham.  Good gig small venue (about 2500).  Decent atmosphere.  Was almost a very short concert with Mr Hall threatening to walk off after bottles were thrown.  It seems some people just can't help acting like idiots.  Some well dressed folks about too.  I'm always blown away when I see a women skinheads, a male skinhead so what?  But a woman skinhead that takes guts.

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  • Friday night i went to see the Spitfires supported by a new band to me called Social Room very good on both counts.

    • Spitfires coming over here twice a year by now. Gonna see them again in June; 3rd time within a year. Always worth going!

    • Billy must lose 5/6 pounds in weight each gig he never stops moving.


    • And loses a pint of spit each gig. Maybe that's why they're called the Spitfires, hahaha!

  • You'e right Chris; my mate was probaly thinking: a word to the wise, you're getting out of your depth. Which is what a good mate should do.

    The West End at that time was fairly rough place, so you had to learn to step lively, but it carried a real fizz of excitement for a teenager. Harvey did have a fearsome reputation which was well deserved; there were people who said he was alright once you got to know him (how many times has that been said of somebody?) but the difficulty was in getting to know him, and mostly you figured you didn't want to. Drink did for him, really, although he went dry in his later years, which were few. He was genuine, though, not like the wannabe hard cases - Daltrey was the best example. He was forever stronging it about how was only a step or two away from being a real villain, and being in a band saved him. That would be about the number of steps to the top of the Eifell Tower. Poor old Roger, never got to the top of the gangster tree because of his liking for fringed suede jackets and bubble cut perms - oh, and the asthma. Tough old world amongst the rough guys.

    • I can well imagine that the west end of London was a bit dodgy to say the least back then Ernie. I have read a few times now that the Scene was not exactly a place for the faint hearted and that many people only went once and never returned as they felt a bit intimidated by some of the patrons. Believe it or not there was a Scene Club up here in the early 1960s ( one too in the early 80s) but it was closed down after someone was murdered on the premices.

      It is always great to hear from people who were doing the rounds when it all first happened. It is especially good to read the fine details about the bands not always being great and that Guy Stevens was not everyones favourite DJ at the Scene. Cheers Ernie please keep them coming.


    • It did seem to be, but probably no more than similar areas in other cities; just more people in London and more people trying to put themselves about. The Scene did have what you might call a difficult reputation, but it was different from the other clubs in that the people who went there, who were members, kind of felt they wouldn't put up with any nonsense - so that meant that other people (who might have been idiots) got the impression that it was cliquey and that the regular Scene people felt it was 'their' club. That wasn't really the case, but once that kind of idea gains currency then it has a life of its own. I would think that other clubbers might have a different point of view; depends on what they were into. The regular Scene crowd didn't go much at weekends, unless they did manage to book a decent act, but that wasn't really likely given that O' Reilly (owner) was into radio and broadcast music (cheaper than paying musicians - he was a chiseller). The other main clubs were music venues - Flamingo, Marquee, Scott's, 100. Then there were the tourist places like the Discotheque and Last Chance. Then there were the real idiot places like Tiles, Ad-Lib and a few others that were the haunts of the likes of Jeff Dexter and so on and au-pair girls looking to get picked up by a pop star. They were weird places, absolutely nothing intelligent going on at all. The music venues were solid - that's where you found what you needed to hear. The rest were to be avoided unless you were on a search. For example, you might be in the West End on a Saturday night and stroll around to Ham Yard just for a look-see. If it was before 10 o'clock it was likely you'd find a dozen or so North London boys on scooters. They never went downstairs into the club, just sat on their scooters, wearing their sartorially elegant army surplus parkas (sometimes with their name written on them) and snapbrim bluebeat hats that made them look like their mothers had told them to keep their heads warm. They only ever came down as a group of blokes. If you asked them about girlfriends they always said: "oh yeah, gitlfriend alright, well tasty she is. Wouldn't bring her down here though". I think they all must have lived in the same block of flats or something. About 10 o'clock they'd all rev and go home. Pointless, really. After a while I thought, these blokes are probably alright but they're just like their dads: girlfriend (wife) indoors, scooter (Ford Anglia) nicely polished, Hush Puppies (Hush Puppies!). You probably wouldn't come across any of them blocked out of their brains, trying it on with some rough sort in a doorway at three in morning and later on crashing out on train to some place they'd never heard of before getting themselves spruced up and back in the game after a Dog's Nose or two.

      Hmm, as I read ths over it does occur to me that It doesn't sound all that attractive. Still, teenagers on the loose, eh :)

    • Great details about the various clubs and clubbers there Ernie and some of it is eerily similar to what we used to do. On a Friday night we often all met up on our scooters and headed into the city centre. There would often be about a dozen of us and we would go to a certain boozers and then up to another one that was a well know Mod haunt. We never drank much tbh, maybe a couple of pints but were happy just to hang out with like minded people. Towards the end of the night we would head up to another part of the town where a Mod club called the Lindella would be coming out around midnight and hang out there and talk to the punters coming out of the club. Most of us would probably rather have been in the club but had to save our money for the Saturday night when our Scene club was on. The Saturday was totally different as we never took our scoots down. That would be a night for drinking and dancing till 3 am and no one wanted to be lumbered with their scooter. Other people came and went on their scooters, stopping outside the club to chat, but no one parked their scooter at the front of the club and left it there until the club closed; there is every chance it would have disappeared long before the club ended. 





    This is about a gig I went in the mid-60s at The Scene Club, because it has a story and I was reminded of it when I came across this track on youtube.

    The best nights at The Scene were Tuesdays and Fridays because you could avoid the live bands, who were mostly terrible (Zoot Money, anyone?), and get yourself sorted. Sometimes you'd get there on a Tuesday, hoping Sandy would be in the record booth instead of Guy Stevens, only to find that a gig had been booked. Nothing you could do, really, except hang about upstairs in the Yard until they packed up. This Barry St John was on stage (you had to stretch the description) singing her cover of a Newbeats song - just a bright bit of pop, but you could dance to it - and I was bowled over by her, thought she was best thing since I'd seen since sliced bread and zip fasteners. At seventeen or thereabouts, full of that special kind of idiocy and swagger, I thought I had a chance with her. Oh dear, here's a grown up woman with a career just about to have her life changed by a skinny gawping teenager. How could she resist? A mate of mine sussed what an idiot I was about o make of myself and said to me that I'd best give it the go-by as she was married to Alex Harvey, Absolute passion dowser, that - Harvey had the reputation of being a genuine lunatic hardcase, able to start a fight with himself, stalked the West End like a bandit. So I just watched her, full of teenage sadness (which disappears fairly quickly) and tucked what might have been away.  Several months later I found out that my mate was wrong and she weasn't married to Harvey at all. So I'm glad I found this record.

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