Last Wednesday I went up to Sheffield to see a band called Tankus the Henge. A tight, cabaret style funk, new orleans jazz outfit that is great live band. It was a standing gig, which I know is some peoples idea of hell, but as I often stand up for two hours at a time at my own gigs it’s a doddle for me.
Fairly typically the tallest guy in the room did end up practically in front of me and at one point he stood on me too. That’s when you realise how invisible you are. I did give him a shove off my foot and he got a little bit lairy as drink had been taken. But even he couldn’t ruin my night. I reasoned to myself that he couldn’t help being tall but he could help standing on me. It’s wiggle and dance music. I certainly can’t stand still and actually I often find sitting at gigs a little difficult even when it’s quite intense as I get fidgety …I know and I would probably hate it if someone was visibly fidgeting too much in front of me when singing a quiet song.
Actually, as this is a stream of thought, it’s taken me to the Moirai gig at the Grand Union Folk Club on Monday. Some guy slept nearly all the way through it. Whilst it wasn’t really loud snoring it was heavy breathing. We’re quite noisy too so he was either very tired or suffering from narcolepsy.
So going to the Tankus gig made me think of gigs I have gone too. Some were iconic. I saw Kate Bush on her ‘Kick Inside’ tour at Bristol Colston Hall, as it was then. I loved it. It was the first time anyone had matched up dancing, singing and screen images as as far as I was aware. I remember thinking how clever she was when on her more ‘erotic’ songs she chose to simply play them at the piano rather than writhing around on a bed or accompanying it with over obvious hip thrusts like some acts do. It was subtle and therefore more erotic. It makes me think about how semi clothed humans are so much more sexy than nude ones….leaves more to the imagination at least in my opinion. I’m talking images rather than partners or anything like that.
I also saw Dire Straights at Colston Hall (can’t remember how to spell their name so forgive me if it’s wrong}. Whilst I was impressed by Mark Knopfler’s guitar playing I found most of the songs quite formulaic and, of course, they all had the ubiquitous guitar solo. In truth I got a bit bored where as I definitely wasn’t with Kate Bush.
But one gig that really stuck out for me was Toyah Wilcox. Right in the punk era she was soft punk but I quite liked her image and her hit ‘It’s a mystery’ so I went see her at Rock City in Nottingham. I was dressed in black but not bin liners and whilst my ears were pierced nothing else was, honest! But, punk was in and so was pogoing. It was a packed gig and if one person pogoed everyone had to otherwise you would have been trampled to death. I was near enough to the stage to be spat on by Toyah….not deliberately, as was the fashion, but as a result of extra exuberant enunciation.
So, you were pogoing up and down in rhythm with everyone around you and, in order to not feel completely trapped, most people were pogoing with their arms in the air. I was having a lovely time until I suddenly felt hands on my body coming from behind. Someone was trying to slide their hands down the inside of the top of my shirt. I managed to wriggle free but who ever it was persisted and, not only that, they then undid my trousers with a view to presumably sticking their hands down there too. Not on your bloody life. So……………… I did the only thing I could think of….when the crowd breathed I quickly brought my arms down from above and thrust my elbows quickly backwards giving, who ever it was, a vicious thrust backwards presumably in the stomach. I felt rather smug have created the space behind me until the guy, as a result of my actions, immediately vomited on me. Well…it was punk gig after all and certainly not to be forgotten.
Jo Freya’s Musings 