Living for Live
I grew up on live music. I have been hooked on it from the age of 15. On 5th May 1974 when I was still over a month away from my 16th birthday I went to see Deep Purple at Preston Guild Hall, just as the band released “Burn”, their first album with David Coverdale as lead singer. On 28th November that same year I saw Pink Floyd perform Dark Side of the Moon in its entirety, preceded by “Raving and Drooling” and “You Gotta Be Crazy” (which later appeared on the “Animals” album as “Sheep” and “Dogs” respectively) and Shine On You Crazy Diamond, with their final song of the evening being “Echoes”. I saw them repeat the set at Knebworth Park on 5th July 1975, with the addition of “Have a Cigar” sung by Roy Harper in a big red hat.
A couple of months before, on 18th April 1975 I saw Genesis at the Liverpool Empire performing the whole of The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway. Five days later I saw Yes at Preston Guild Hall. On Friday 2nd May it was 10cc at Lancaster University. The Reading Festival was held that year from August 22nd to 24th and me and Kieran Heaney and two other blokes in a Transit Van (with a family tin of baked beans and a bottle of whisky) saw the whole thing. Although Lou Reed and Richard and Linda Thompson each failed to appear, highlights of an incredible weekend included Dr. Feelgood in the pissing rain, Supertramp, The Ozark Mountain Daredevils, and Thin Lizzy. I saw Fairport Convention (the Sandy Denny version) on 14th October at Lancaster University.
My teenage (yes that’s me) was a wall of live music. I was at a gig of some form almost every week, and when I joined the Entertainments Committee at the University of East Anglia in October 1976, I had absolutely no inkling (other than a burning desire to see The Feelgoods again) of how dramatically music would change by the end of that year: prog rock to punk in 6 months. Name a British punk or reggae band from that period and we probably had them playing in our 920 capacity hall in the three or four years that followed.
Since then I’ve been on the front row for Springsteen, the fourth row for Springsteen, attended several Knebworths, seen Peter Gabriel, Roxy Music, Aerosmith in Cologne, Metallica and Iron Maiden at the Roskilde Festival, Muse at the Leeds Festival, and attended at least one Womad. There is no way of recalling the hundreds, possibly into the thousands, of large and small gigs of all genres that I’ve seen during my 60 years, but it’s played a big part in my own music and has been one of the mainstays of life in general. Most of the gigs have been amazing.
So not only did I go to gigs back then, I went to the very, very best gigs and could still afford to do so out of my earnings from temporary jobs. I think weekend tickets for Knebworth 1975 were £2.50 each. All these years on, I simply would not pay the hundred pounds or more it now takes to see top acts, with their performances more often than not choreographed and not very live at all. The future is in seeing new bands perform live in smaller venues. Larger venues have no soul. Many smaller ones have lost theirs under a blanket of identikit stripped oak and stainless steel. Many have closed, but some gems still remain. I saw Lankum at Manchester’s Band on the Wall last November and The Little Unsaid at The Live Rooms in Saltaire near Bradford last May.
For anyone who thinks the ‘live’ experience can be adequately replicated on YouTube, Vevo, and Vimeo, I promise you it can’t. You miss the atmospheres, the smells, and the anticipation between the time the road crew leave the stage and the band appearing. You miss the things that happen at gigs: Neil Young’s piano being lowered onto the stage from on high with only three of the four lifting hoists attached; Eric Clapton walking on in disguise and playing a couple of acoustic numbers before anyone realised; the tuning problems that Pink Floyd had before their Knebworth gig; the bruised hands after a Rory Gallagher gig due to clapping them too much, and a smile, a handshake and a word from the man himself as he boarded the tour bus; the heat as Rammstein’s pyrotechnics kicked into full gear.
You miss the ‘discoveries’. Jennie Abrahamsson, Wally, and back in the day Martin Simpson! The bands you feel you found first because you went to see a headliner and the support band blew them off stage: Halford (yep, Rob Halford formerly of Judas Priest), Philip Henry and Hannah Martin (now Edgelarks), Fun Lovin’ Criminals. The bands you went to see expecting something good but coming away feeling you’ve just seen the best thing since sliced bread: The Little Unsaid, Le Vent Du Nord, Julian Cope, Steve Tilston, Wardruna, and Andy Fairweather Low and the Low Riders. And you miss the joy, energy and emotion in the audience as favourite songs are played, or those moments of silence when you know you’ve just witnessed a stellar performance.
Live music shouldn’t be a backdrop for a restaurant, or drowned by chinking glasses or clattering cutlery, or worse the disrespectful insisting on continuing loud conversation at an acoustic gig, or constantly pushing past to go to the bar. Live music is a truly special experience and should be given its own space in time, without distraction. Live music, like all music carries so much more value than today’s world is allowing. So go to a gig, take it on its merits, but be prepared also to be amazed.
#LOVELIVEMUSIC