Tag Archives: Justin Currie

Spirit Aid, Oran Mor, 17th Feb, Acts 18-20

Spirit Aid, Oran Mor, 17th Feb, Acts 18-20

This was a Charity fundraiser. We arrived to be met by a ridiculously long queue to get to the bar (since when did we start queing for bars?)  which degenerated into a mob about thirty seconds before I should have been served.

 Looking as if some escapees from Fraggle Rock had mated with humans, The Bluebells came on to a raucous reception and played an unplugged set of hits. Stand out song was The Patriot Game. I had hoped for Syracuse University or the 12" Sugar Bridge, but no. After they’d finished and I was exiting the lavvy, Ken McCluskey was posing for some photos with fans and asked me to do the honours. I obliged and snapped happily away.The folk involved then assumed that I must also be a similar, but less recognisable, minor celebrity and insisted that I pose with them also. I affected a Borders accent and suggested I’d left my armour and sword at home, to tantalize them.

Looking as if some escapees from Fraggle Rock had mated with humans, The Bluebells came on to a raucous reception and played an unplugged set of hits. Stand out song was The Patriot Game.

I had hoped for Syracuse University or the 12″ Sugar Bridge, but no. After they’d finished and I was exiting the lavvy, Ken McCluskey was posing for some photos with fans and asked me to do the honours. I obliged and snapped happily away.The folk involved then assumed that I must also be a similar, but less recognisable, minor celebrity and insisted that I pose with them also. I affected a Borders accent and suggested I’d left my armour and sword at home, to tantalize them.

  Justin Currie performed a set that was pedestrian at best. He looked uncomfortable being there and only performed (if memory serves) six songs, all of them Del Amitri. He had brought along his gurning pal too.During the set I cast an eye around the place and noticed a tiny figure wearing an Arafat Scarf, lurking in the shadows, and leaning against the sound desk. He was slightly smaller than Little Britain’s Dennis Waterman. It wasn’t until all the bands took to the stage to sing the finale, an elongated Will The Circle Be Unbroken and invited ’Laydeez ‘n’ gennelmen, a big haun for the man who made tonight possible’ that I realised that it was Hayman the Halfling. He had to stand on a large box to reach the microphone!!! As we shuffled towards the exit, I bumped into Fraser Spiers and briefly reminisced about nights in the very early seventies, watching Frankie Miller and The Groundhogs in The Picasso (a deathtrap of a place, just up from where Forbidden Planet in Buchanan St. is now). All was well, as I recalled him rubbing snake oil onto fellow members of the gigs queue’s foreheads, but then my ’minor celebrity Tourettes’ kicked in, I said something a bit off and he sped away into the night realising he was in the presence of a maddie! Another night at Oran Mor but, once again, not a great one.

Justin Currie performed a set that was pedestrian at best. He looked uncomfortable being there and only performed (if memory serves) six songs, all of them Del Amitri. He had brought along his gurning pal too.
During the set I cast an eye around the place and noticed a tiny figure wearing an Arafat Scarf, lurking in the shadows, and leaning against the sound desk. He was slightly smaller than Little Britain’s Dennis Waterman.

It wasn’t until all the bands took to the stage to sing the finale, an elongated Will The Circle Be Unbroken and invited ’Laydeez ‘n’ gennelmen, a big haun for the man who made tonight possible’ that I realised that it was Hayman the Halfling.
He had to stand on a large box to reach the microphone!!!

As we shuffled towards the exit, I bumped into Fraser Spiers and briefly reminisced about nights in the very early seventies, watching Frankie Miller and The Groundhogs in The Picasso (a deathtrap of a place, just up from where Forbidden Planet in Buchanan St. is now). All was well, as I recalled him rubbing snake oil onto fellow members of the gigs queue’s foreheads, but then my ’minor celebrity Tourettes’ kicked in, I said something a bit off and he sped away into the night realising he was in the presence of a maddie!

Another night at Oran Mor but, once again, not a great one.

 
 James Grant was the big surprise, with Fraser Spiers riding shotgun by deploying a bundle of moothies that he wore on a holster. These were processed/treated in real time, through an effects unit, Very impressive, Frippertronics for the harp!!! Grant was very droll, telling amusing tales regarding his Da’s wallies and a trip to the Golden Arches while chiding those ‘fans’ who only shout for Love & Money material.

James Grant was the big surprise, with Fraser Spiers riding shotgun by deploying a bundle of moothies that he wore on a holster. These were processed/treated in real time, through an effects unit, Very impressive, Frippertronics for the harp!!!

Grant was very droll, telling amusing tales regarding his Da’s wallies and a trip to the Golden Arches while chiding those ‘fans’ who only shout for Love & Money material.

 
 
 
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Justin Currie, ABC1 January 21st (act #04)

I started tonight off in The Station Bar with Big Chris and his Wee Bro, Nick, then hurtled West to the ABC to liaise with the Designated Driver.

Justin and I go way back, almost thirty years back, to when I actually went along to Café Warzika, four Mondays on the trot, in order to qualify for a free Del Amitri single. In those days they, Del Amitri that is, used to ‘come on stage’ to a tape of ‘I Have A Dream’ (that would be MLK, of course, not ABBA). Since then I’ve seen him many, many times.

Tonight Dr King’s golden tones were missing, replaced by Paul Weller’s ’No Tears to Cry’, and if the truth be known there was something else seriously missing and quite flat about the whole event. Nothing like the majestic austerity of The Fruitmarket gig of 2007.

A reworked ‘Last to Know’ was impressive, however I felt that, during the whole evening, there was a feeling of merely going through the motions. I’m sure JC is so familiar with some of these songs he could sing them in his sleep (and on a couple of occasions tonight, he may well have been for all I know!) It didn’t help me being surrounded by a crowd of singalongs who would be best described as “Desperate Housewives” had it been set in ‘River City’

More recently, regarded as one who generally aspires towards sartorial elegance, Justin, tonight, was quite clearly wearing someone else’s trousers and/or had recently narrowly escaped a house fire!

Nick Clark, a bass colossus as usual, had, rather strangely, decided to come on stage looking like Alfie Moon disguised as Bob Dylan

I felt sorry for  guitarist Stuart Nesbit as he had clearly misread ‘Celtic Connections’ as ‘The World Gurning Championships’. I was also intrigued that he played solos that had little resemblance to, or were even on nodding terms with, the tunes they were imbedded in. On many occasions I enjoy and applaud such mavericks, however this was simply mince! If Alan Hansen played guitar I’m fairly certain it would sound remarkably like this.
Home, James!

Justin in  more rivetting times!