But we will start with by answering a question I was asked last week when I was giving out festival programmes in Mill Hill Broadway. One of my neighbours, not noted for his happy demeanour, refused a leaflet and said "why would I want to go to that when I can stay at home and listen to decent music on the telly?". Now I was tempted to say "Well you are a miserable sod and clearly in need of some fun in your life", but felt it would be a bit rude, so I just asked "Don't you enjoy a good night out?".
On reflection though, I realised that this was a very poor answer. Not least because going to gigs has little to do with "listening to music". In fact, he's 100% right. If all you want to do is listen to music, the best thing to do is spend a years wages on a super, duper hi fi set up and get yourself an album collection (see below for what I'd suggest to start it off). Then you can sit at home and enjoy the music with no distractions and get totally immersed in the sounds of genius musicians going about their business.
Watching live music is simply not like that. Attending a gig is being at a unique event, seeing people do something amazing, that has never and will never be done again. It is not a solitary activity like listening at home on the hi fi, it is a communal moment. For me, there are certain rituals, different for every artist, every venue. When I started regularly going to gigs, I was fourteen years old. I was into Punk Rock at Finchley Catholic High School. I was lucky enough to have a big sister who loved the same music and was four years older. Initially, I'd tag along with her and her mates. We'd meet at her flat, maybe have a drink. Everyone would get ready. For the girls, this meant transforming themselves into punk rock Goddesses. For the blokes, it just meant getting your brain into the right place.
Usually, we'd then stroll around to Mill Hill Broadway, get a 140 or 52 bus to Burnt Oak and take the Northern Line to the West End or Camden. Often, we'd meet up with other friends on the way. There were no telephones, so it this was co-ordinated days or weeks in advance. If it was The Marquee, we'd meet for a pint in the Ship. If it was The Roundhouse, we'd often get fish and chips or a Marine Ice over the road. Then we'd go in. The first thing to do was to get a beer. If there was a merch stall (not that common at small gigs, usually only at big gigs for tours, such as The Ramones), we'd have a look. During the punk era, we'd always watch the support bands. Often they would be on TOTP within months and you'd have the feather in the cap of being the first kid on the block to see them.
Between each band, you'd fight to get to the bar to top up. At those gigs, generally the quality of sound was pretty poor, but it didn't matter. What you were there for was to soak up the vibe. I was there when The Ramones recorded and filmed "It's Alive" at The Rainbow in 1977. There was much talk that this was going to be the best album ever. The Ramones live were sublime. By far the best band you will ever see. But if you listen to the album and watch the film, it gives no real idea of just how buzzing the venue was.
Only hard core Ramones fans would most likely play it. Their first three studio albums are masterpieces and these are probably far better for the front room. The gig was amazing, but without the sights, sounds, smells, alcohol, haze of smoke, blokes treading on your toes, punkettes smiling at you seductively at the bar and 28 minutes of frantic pogoing, it was just four blokes making a pleasant noise on the stage. There is no rewind to see the best bits again. If you go to the loo when they do your favourite number, that is it. If you are pogoing and Johnny Ramone throws you his plectrum, or Eddie Edwards from the Vibrators throws you his drumstick, that is something only you will ever have.
But best of all is the communal sharing. The being in a moment. The nod to the person next to you as you see something amazing. The snatched conversation in the queue for the urinal, where you share insights into the relative merits of the support band.
Then there was my ritual for going home. I'd always try and nick the band's poster off the wall and had about a 99% success rate. If there were T-shirt sellers outside, I'd make a cheeky offer, knowning that the stock would be dead after the night. This works especially well on the last night of the tour.
Then we'd pile on the Northern Line home. As the train approached Burnt Oak, it would thin out. By the time we were on the bus, usually it was just our little gang again. You wouldn't feel like bed, the adrenalin would be pumping, so you'd nip back, usually for a cup of tea. You'd compare notes, swap stories and by the time you went to bed, often at 2am, you'd feel right with the world.
Nowadays, my routine is different, as you'd expect from a 60 year old. I still prefer travelling by public transport. An advantage of living in Mill Hill is that there are great public transport links. If we are meeting friends, we would meet at a pub, cafe or restaurant first. As I tend to go with my wife, I don't go there to chat up anyone as I did as a teenager, but we often bump into friends. If the gig finishes early, we may grab a drink atfer, but usually the night ends by walking the dogs when we get home.
Back in 2009, I made a list of my top ten best gigs. I'm pleased to announce that since then there are at least four that may well make the list, or maybe a top twenty is needed. These include Eli 'Paperboy' Reed at The 100 club, The Family Stone at The Jazz Cafe, The Specials/Toots and The Maytells at Hatfield Uni and The Silencerz at the Mill Hill Music Festival to name a few. Last week, I saw Ben Sidran at Ronnie Scotts and Madness at Cannock Forest. I can't think of two more different gigs. I had great time at both, I'm not sure I'd bother watching either on Youtube. I certainly wouldn't be bopping in my front room to Madness, or have the appreciation of the electric atmosphere Ben Sidran generated.
Both are, in my opinion, far batter live than on records (or youtube clips). On Sunday, I was invited by Fr Eugene at The Sacred Heart church to plug the Mill Hill Music Festival at one of the masses. I said a few words and ended with the words "The festival is run by local unpaid volunteers. It is run on a not for profit basis and the only reason we do it is to put a smile on your face, and what could be better than that". A spontanious round of applause broke out and when I got home, found we'd sold 20 more tickets.
Which brings me back to my grumpy neighhbour's question. What I should have said is "Because you will leave with a smile on your face, and who wouldn't want that?". At the start of this blog, I promised a list of albums that you really should get to start your collection. CLICK HERE to see my suggestions. This will give you a taster of what albums shaped what is in our charts. I wrote this in 2020. In hindsight, it should be a top 12. There really should be a Jazz album in there, what I do not know, as I am not a Jazz buff and don't know what album shaped Jazz. It should also have a RAP/Hip Hop album in there. I'd probably choose Raising Hell by Run DMC, but again it's not waters I've done more than dip my toe in.
I suppose I should sign off by mentioning my band, The False Dots, We've done a countless gigs over the years. I met my wife at one 38 years ago and we are still happy. I love playing as much as I love attending gigs. If you've seen the band recently, you'll know why. When we do a good gig, I am buzzing for a week. I'd not swap the feeling for the world.
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