Long Time Comin'

This is a response to a recent concert that stirred up a lot of history.
It could have been as long as a year ago that I heard a rumour that Crosby and Nash would be touring soon.
Back in April I saw that they were on at the Bridgewater Hall in Manchester in early September. My good friend Keith and I decided we had to go and see them whilst we had the chance.
I liked the idea of seeing Graham Nash on home ground, so tickets were booked, and every so often there would be a flutter of excitement as we talked about the concert. I'm sure some people thought we were just a pair of old hippies off to see another pair of even older hippies. There's always the danger of disappointment, when musical heroes age. I had seen the Byrds at Bath in 1970, but I hadn't seen the Hollies or any combination of Crosby Stills and Nash when I was younger.
I read a good review of their recent concerts, but we didn't do a lot of homework or research - just going with the flow.
When the band walked on stage and launched into 'Eight Miles High' we were up there, giddy with excitement! Astoundingly powerful. Then Graham Nash introduced 'Bus Stop' the old Graham Gouldman Hollies' song, for his sister in the audience.
The set went from strength to strength - all the old favourites you could hope for, and some newer songs I recognised from their 2004 album. There was no sense of nostalgia. these were familiar and unfamiliar songs, played by a band at the top of their game.
The banter, the affection, the sense of respect filled the hall, audience to performers, band member to band member. It just kept getting better, and yet there was a sense that the musicians could still go further.
Harmony all around. Graham Nash had old friends and family in the audience. He had received an honorary doctorate that day from Salford University - cue jokes about prescribing for Crosby.
They played for an incredible three hours, with a short, less than 15 minute break.
Emotions flooded back - many of those songs and their lyrics seem to be hard wired in my brain. We talked about how we used to listen. Was it the intensity of youth, or the intensity of the experience of listening to a favourite album again and again in candle lit rooms?
Their political and environmental message - as well as the very personal messages in songs like Our House and Teach Your Children,became the template for our lives and attitudes - romantic and realistic - full of loving kindness and affection.
There was David Crosby's son, adopted and then reunited with him, James Raymond, who had inherited his father's talent for music and song writing, playing in the band.
There were some strange connections for me. My boyfriend of those far off days, Derek Taylor, introduced me to Crosby Stills and Nash's music. He played in a band called Dhyani with a member of Greasy Bear, Steve Whalley. Other members of Greasy Bear included Ian Wilson ( later of Sad Cafe) and Chris Lee ( C P Lee of Salford University among other claims to fame). Who should I bump into on the way out but Ian. And then Chris posted a fabulous photo of Graham Nash in his doctor's robes on facebook.
Keith and I couldn't resist trying to work out how old Crosby and Nash are, though age had nothing to do with the power of their performance, unless it was down to experience and constant practice. Nash is 68 and Crosby 70. It feels like someone has moved the goalposts yet again on what possibilities for creativity the years might bring. Have no fear.
Ironically, outside Bridgewater Hall was a seething mass of fluorescent jacketed policemen, road blocks, closed roads and car parks, all in preparation for the Conservative party conference, and the trouble expected in response to the policies of the present government.

The ones that got away!

I am having a busy summer of concert going, which will no doubt create a few more historic gigs of the future. Recently I have been thinking about some of the ones who have got away. I have been incredibly fortunate to have seen many of my favourite artists - some more than once, but there have been some notable exceptions. I didn't get to the Isle of Wight when Hendrix played, though I knew many who did. I didn't see the Doors at the Roundhouse, but my friend met them arriving at Heathrow. I saw the Grateful Dead at Ally Pally, Pink Floyd and Country Joe at the Bath Festival in 1970. I caught up with the Stones at Knebworth. I saw Fleetwood Mac, but with Stevie Nicks, not Peter Green. Likewise, Steve Winwood, but not Traffic. Clapton without the Cream. Bob Dylan in his later career, not with the Band. The Byrds, but not the Eagles. Wings but not the Beatles. Manchester University famously turned down the free Wings concert so they went to Salford instead. I was in my local pub, the Cross Keys in Eccles, when the news came through. I have seen Nico several times, but never the Velvet Underground.David Byrne, but not Talking Heads. Little Feat with the incomparable Lowell George. Led Zeppelin and Robert Plant.
The ones I feel have got away include Joni Mitchell,though I have seen James Taylor and Jackson Browne more than once, and hope to see Graham Nash in October! Stevie Wonder is another regret, though I am not sure I'd want to see him now, but I have seen the Temptations and Smokey Robinson.Leonard Cohen is a regret too.
Who knows - I got to see Ravi Shankar a few weeks ago, in his 90s and still amazing. If they keep on playing concerts, I'll keep on buying tickets!

Entertaining angels... Sufjan Stevens

This isn't a historic gig in the sense that it happened a long time ago - it's historic in the sense that I will never forget it!
Mid May the founder members of the Bakewell Vinyl Club went to the Manchester Apollo to see Sufjan Stevens. I had seen him a few years ago at Green Man. I had a quick look at youtube to catch up with what he's doing now, and was looking forward to seeing him, but not entirely sure what to expect.
One of the drawbacks of age and experience, and having been to lots of concerts, is that you can't help analysing performer's influences, and actually you just have to accept that they are doing it in the here and now for their fans and their generation.
Funkadelic, psychedelic,Rufus Wainwright's angel wings,Gang Gang Dance and Darwin Deez dance moves - and especially Flaming Lips stage show as seen at Green Man last summer. As I tried to interpret what was going on on stage, I was completely overwhelmed by the spectacle and energy of the performance, the music, the colours, the costumes and movement. And then he would suddenly change pace, come to the front of the stage and pick up a guitar to sing something calmer, quieter and familiar.
He gave a presentation about an artist who had influenced him with his folk art depictions of aliens and other worlds. He talked about the power of sound and movement. The audience were with him all the way through the shifts of mood and energy.
He talked about Space and galaxies. He took us on a journey through the Universe. There were moments when I found it uncomfortable, a complete sensory overload, especially within the confines of a building. Flaming Lips' show was diffused by being an outdoor performance. This was energy bouncing back off the walls and ceiling. There was a point when I thought I wouldn't be able to stand up when the time came to leave - was I having some kind of drug related flash back from my misspent youth? It was intense and it was brilliant, over two and half hours of performance, with a 25 minute song towards the end, Impossible Soul - check it out on youtube - it takes up three videos!
So we talked about it in the car all the way home to Bakewell, and the next day I was still trying to make sense of it when I spoke to my daughter on the phone. Some of her friends had been there. One of her friends had been to a Steiner school, as had she when she was younger. Sufjan Stevens had also been Steiner educated and suddenly all became clear. Rudolf Steiner's Planetary Spheres and their influence - the stars are us, we are starlight. I'd moved heaven and earth ( well, house and home) so my children could go to a Steiner school and was devastated when it closed its doors. Anthroposophy was a big part of my life for some years, and I had heard Sufjan mention eurythmy and theosophy during his performance and hadn't made the connection.
A concert I won't forget.

The Revolution will not be televised

There's an irony to these words in the year of the Arab Spring and the youtube revolutions.
I was really saddened to hear that Gil Scott-Heron had died at the unfeasibly young age of 62. He was only 20 when he wrote and recorded The Revolution will not be televised.
I have a good memory and can usually recall details of concerts I've been to - in fact it's the intensity of the memories and the recall of detail that inspired me to start this blog. With Gil Scott-Heron I'm not so sure. I believe I saw him at the International in Manchester in the early 80s. In a way it's his death that has made me doubt myself - I can't believe I saw such an amazing performer at that time and in such a venue.
There's a website that lists the acts booked there, but it starts in early 1985 and I know it must have been before then. I came back from working in Morocco in 1981, and was pregnant with my first child in 1984, so it was somewhere in those years between.
Around the same time I saw Curtis Mayfield and Bo Diddley at the same venue ( different nights! - that would be too much!)
For those concerts I can recall where I stood, who I was with, who I bumped into at the bar, but seeing Gil Scott-Heron has a vaguer, dreamier quality to it. I can't blame drink or drugs - maybe it was a more intense experience. I was drawn to his name as well as his music - like a little poem in itself..
If someone told me I'd imagined it all, and that he didn't play Manchester during those years, I'd accept that I'm under a delusion, but I'd also be really impressed by my ability to conjure up a Gil Scott-Heron performance in my dreams.

This one's for Gerry

Back in 1967 I was sent to boarding school, with my sisters, because my parents went to live and work in the Far East. Overnight we lost friends, home and parents, and had to adapt to a very different way of life. I still haven't recovered from the shock. As a young teenager in Manchester I had started going to see groups, mostly on the package tours that were in their hey day then.I had seen the Kinks, The Beach Boys, the Walker Brothers and the Small Faces by the time I was 13, with Gene Pitney, Roy Orbison and Dave Dee Dozy Beaky Mick and Tich and others thrown in. Simon Dupree and the Big Sound ( remember 'Kites'?) and Terry Reid singing with Peter Jay and the Jay Walkers.
When I got to boarding school there was another new girl from Manchester, Gerry. We became friends and are still in touch. I know she reads this blog. She was more sophisticated, more aware than the rest of us. Not so much in appearance and behaviour, but in attitude. She was intelligent and articulate, with a hint of a drawl in her accent. She had lived in Canada and Ireland. She had plans, ideas and opinions and a great sense of humour. Ours was a hugely important friendship for me. I would have lost my Manchester links if it hadn't been for her, and her family's hospitality at half terms and school holidays.
Most people who are interested know that Top of the Pops was first recorded in a converted church on Dickenson Rd in Manchester. The BBC had another former church studio they used for radio shows, somewhere on the derelict borders between Hulme and Moss Side, before redevelopment. Dave Lee Travis was the compere. the BBC Radio Orchestra played the hits of the day and there would be performances from actual pop singers. It may even have pre dated Radio 1. One school hoilday we went to queue to become part of the audience. After the show we headed across the wasteground to the last pub standing where everyone gathered. Excited girls hung out in the car park area, waiting for autographs. Somehow we got into the pub ( aged 14 remember) and got into conversation with Kiki Dee and her manager Vic Billings, who had also been Dusty Springfield's manager. I know I was much more of a listener and observer than a participant in those days, but Gerry had ambitions to be a record producer and was very savvy about the music scene. We were invited to meet up with them at the Midland Hotel the next day to continue the conversation. All absolutely above board - they must have seen the spark in Gerry. This was before Kiki Dee had her big hit with Elton John.
It was one of those times when you realise adults are treating you with interest and respect - we didn't get a lot of that at school or from our parents in those days.
We tried to go to concerts in the holidays - I remember seeing Peter Frampton and the Herd at the Odeon with her. I wonder how we bought tickets - no access to a phone, no cheque books even.
Then she discovered Roger Eagle's Magic Village, took me there the next chance we got, and for me the rest is history.
We are making tentative plans to start to go to some concerts together again, and I can't wait!

Vini Reilly and Durutti Column

Many years ago, when I was working at On the 8th Day in Manchester, my friend Tony Wilson came in and told me about his new band. They were named after an anarchist movement, The Durutti Column aka the movement of the 24th January. I was thrilled, as that was my birthday!
A couple of years later my boyfriend at the time was their roadie, and a couple of other friends played in the band.I'm not sure if I ever actually saw them play, but I certainly went with them to where they should have played.
Life moved on - friends moved to other bands, including a Simply Red connection.
In the early 80s I moved to a house in West Didsbury.Bruce Mitchell lived in the next door adjoining house with his family and Vini. Vini's room was the other side of the shared party wall from my bedroom. My daughter was born at home, in that room, to the sound of Vini playing his guitar. He had no idea of what was happening on my side of the wall. The midwife was very impressed as her son was a big fan.
Years later, I shared this information with my children when they discovered Vini's music.
They have been to see him with me a couple of times.
Last Saturday I took my youngest son, now 17, to see Vini and Bruce at Bridgewater Hall in Manchester.
It was a difficult concert for Vini, as he is going through a difficult relationship break up, made all the more poignant by the beautiful photos of Poppy that were part of the performance. She also played on stage with him. Photos of Tony Wilson, and Bruce and Jackie were also part of the display.
It was very raw and quite miserable, but we stuck in there with him.
After the interval he came back and did some old favourites, including Otis. Bruce Mitchell is still the best drummer in the world for me, and Charlie loved the performance.

Because the Night

Looking through last year's diary for something, I realised it is almost a year to the day since I saw Patti Smith. She came to Sheffield to do a concert as part of the Robert Mapplethorpe exhibition at the Graves Art Gallery. Tickets for the concert sold out very quickly, but I found out she was doing a lunch time talk in the tiny Library Theatre in the basement of the library and gallery. I took the day off work and headed into Sheffield on the bus. The bus broke down on the outskirts of the city - luckily another one did come along! When I got there the audience was mainly made up of people around my age. She was very late, and some had to head back to their city centre work places. John Robb was booked to be 'in conversation' with her. She was wonderful.
Just Kids had recently been published, and she and John talked about her early career and her relationship with Robert Mapplethorpe. She also spoke of her decision to take a break from her career to raise her family. She was totally inspiring- someone you would love to call your friend. She ran over time, and called her guitarist up on stage at the end. As she sang "Because the Night Belongs to Lovers" we all joined in. What a privilege. If you had ever told me back when I first listened to her records that one day, decades down the line, I'd be in a tiny theatre in Sheffield singing along with her, I would have thought it was pure fantasy. Wish I could do it again.