Tag Archives: Gigs

Yessongs, The Ferry, 22nd September

Had tickets for this one since 2010. However on the day in question I took a call from Bill who had received a message from Ferry chef Jack. It’s not everyday you get told the gig’s off due to the band being held up at HM border control suspected of terrorism!

Wilko Johnson, ABC2, 16th September Act #43

Bill and I met up in The State to liaise with Ronaldo and The Sad Boys (no Lilibet) who are ostensibly there to see Ian Segal. The beer is going down a treat ,so the Vale Tag Team decide to stay for one more while Ayrshire’s finest run off to the gig. One pint later, we turn up and Segal has been and gone (they can run a tight schedule in the ABC when they have a mind to!). In no time at all Wilko leads his rhythm section onstage and the trio play everything you would want them to. The sound takes about three songs to sort itself but even then I was wishing it could be turned up a notch or two.The contrast in attendance between tonight and ‘Skip’ the night before is astonishing, the ABC2 is as full as I’ve seen it.

Ex-Blockhead Norman on bass played a blinder even though after twenty minutes he looked like Chitty Chitty’s The Childcatcher after an allnighter in a sauna. Biggest disappointment was the encore, Chuck Berry’s ‘Bye Bye Johnny’, went on for about three times as long as it should have. While I assume he really must regret the first time he used his telecaster as a machine gun, the crowd hoots howls of delight every time he does.

A fun night of rhythm ‘n’ booze. I’d go back!

 Can’t the author tell the difference between a tele and a strat?

Can’t the author tell the difference between a tele and a strat?

Skip McDonald, ABC2, 15th September Acts 40-42

Had you told me when I started writing this stuff that, before the year was up, I’d be cuddling my missus on a red leather couch with Skip McDonald singing and playing his heart out only ten feet away I’d have called the purple pill people!

ABC2, again, and tonight they seem to have captured Hurricane Katia and are successfully squeezing her out of the air conditioning. Freezing!

£1.75 for a half pint of Diet Coke from a  gun!!!

When we arrive, and I was worried we were late, we doubled the size of the crowd. I knew then this was going to be another strange one and so it was.

The venue slowly, very slowly began to fill but still nowhere near quarter full and it’s a compact gig to begin with.

‘Skip McDonald and Dave Arcari’ it said on the briefs and external marquee, so it was with a little dismay that I realised the backline onstage suggested there may be more going on than suggested. The Raw Kings shambled onstage just after eight, announced who they were and said they’d play 4 or 5 tunes before the other acts came on

Imagine a planet where the inhabitants were raised having only heard David Lowry b-sides and then were tasked to write and perform songs in the style of Creedence. This was them in a nutshell (bass player wearing a short sleeve shirt, fugawdsake!) One of their songs sounded uncannily like Dead Flowers and then the second cover version they did was indeed that tune. Overlong in a nutshell

The fact that the majority of the pitifully small crowd appeared to be there to see these young pretenders rather than the majesty of Mr Bernard Alexander Esquire nee Oor Skip was disheartening for yours truly.

Dave Arcari was next on, he physically reminded ne of a young Ian Anderson long, long ago in that month when Tull were considered cool. Steel guitar turned up to eleven, he’s a parallel universe Seasick Steve and his stage moves reminded me of a youthful Rockette Morton.

The crowd by this point was pitifully small and drifting away all the time

The table next to us was populated by some folk who obviously failed the auditions for Trainspotting and One Flew over the Cuckoo’s nest. They talked loudly throughout the set.

Despite this, Skip was sublime, solo and acoustic, eschewing the dub trimmings that he normally deploys. I was surprised that the only tune I recognised was Son House’s ‘Grinning In Your face’

The show was overrunning due to The Raw Kings overstaying their welcome and the plug was pulled on our Mr McDonald just as he was getting into his stride. He invited us all to join him in the bar not knowing that the ABC policy is to horse you out the door.

A quick nightcap with the missus in The State then home.

Posted 3 years ago

Vintage Trouble, ABC, 4th August, Act #39

A strange gig! A one album band stretching their set out to two full hours with no covers (apart from the final, final encore)

Firstly the Vintage DJ set that opened tonight, rather than have a support band ,was a great idea and also highlighted how shite the normal pre-gig music can be and also the manner that it’s presented, namely inaudible and/or muffled.

The gig itself had been moved up from the tiny ABC2 and I worried that the larger hall, with presumably a less than capacity crowd, would dilute the atmosphere. Wrong! The hall was as busy as I’ve seen it, with a demographic running from fat aunties, through Furry Freak Brother Clones to punks wearing mohawks!

A family affair, we (Shields, Rhurscach and me) are joined tonight  by Tote just returned from a year’s exile in Lille. Brother Artie is running late, assuming that there is a support band to avoid. We arrange, by text, to meet him under the largest glitterball in Europe. It is while looking up at this enormo-beast, when he arrives, that I realise our entire dynasty could vanish in a trice, if that wee cord snapped, as all male members of the family are now rubbing shoulders.

Vintage Trouble! I’ve never seen anyone sweat as much as this band, and I include Elvis Costello in that statement.

The back line looked absolutely tiny on the big ABC stage and they’ve obviously practiced a lot in front of mirrors, as the whole evening was incredibly choreographed.

Age wise, they’re not in the first flush of youth and look as if they’s been round the block a few times

The bass player actually looked like Ronnie Wood badly disguised as Hen Broon!

I feel singer Ty Taylor has still to find his own style, there’s a lot going on in there;Wilson Pickett, Otis, James Brown, Arthur Connelly and Paul Rodgers which obviously makes him a black man sounding like a white man trying to sound like a black man, doh!

But they’re actually good, even if they stretch every tune out for far too long and we have to endure the ‘clapalong, singalong, I sing this and you sing that’ sorta thing.

One of these bands who will either go ‘mega’ or sink without trace!

Ty Taylor gives the Duracell Bunny a run for it’s money!