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Power of Dreams, Camden Underworld 1994

By now, Dirty Man Stan and I were on something of a roll gigwise, and a mutual trust was emerging.  Despite still being 17 years old, we had been to enough shows separately to know where this would not be an issue, and enough together to know that if one liked it, the other would most likely enjoy at least one of the bands playing. Touring with the Ned’s might have won Power of Dreams a few new…

Reading 1994 - the good bits, and the Red Hot Chilli Peppers

This post is very much about saving the best til last, a complete no-no in online writing, but I have to get something off my chest first. Having said that I got off to a bad start at Reading 1994, to be fair, I should add that it also finished in a despicable manner.  To my eternal shame, I watched a complete live performance by the Red Hot Chilli Peppers.  The Chillis are the most soulless,…

After the high of the Phoenix Festival earlier in the summer, the idea of repeating the experience as soon as possible was in the forefront of my mind.  Only six weeks later, the annual Reading Festival, run by the same Mean Fiddler organisation and featuring many of the same bands was taking place, and appeared to be a no brainer. General apathy towards the festival means I can’t be bothered to…

The one that got away. For inexplicable reasons, a friend (Jason) drove to my house, parked up and then four or five of us (including the now omnipresent DMS) wandered down to Oxted station and got the train up to this one.  So when we got to the Garage, a small (500 capacity?), low ceilinged club over the road from Highbury & Islington tube, there was complete dismay to see that Senseless Things…

At this point it becomes more difficult to keep track of who I went to see and when.  The confidence of knowing that certain venues would let in underage types such as myself, and a willing gig buddy in the shape of Dirty Man Stan meant that I’d be going to see something every two-three weeks, often without an advance ticket. I was fascinated by Napalm Death, with their ever-changing line ups…

Living where I did (Oxted) meant that the Clapham Grand was pretty much the perfect location for a gig.  About 20 seconds walk from Clapham Junction station meant from leaving my house to standing in front of the stage took less than 45 minutes.  Unfortunately, this is the only gig I can ever remember being on there that I went to between the years 1994 and 2014.  Back in the early 90s, the Grand…

After Therapy?’s set on the Sunday night, my original plan was to watch Iggy Pop, who at that point in his career was sort of a go-to-guy for Mean Fiddler when needing a festival headliner.  He may not have made an essential record in years, but he was still a cracking live performer who would perform his back catalogue without trying to flog his latest decent but not quite as good before album.…

Even by the halfway point of the festival, the toilets were like the scene at the beginning of Trainspotting.  I’ve never experienced anything even close to these at a festival since – maybe it was the fact that they weren’t really lit after dark, so anyone going for a dump was reliant on guesswork.  It looked like each and every trap had been part of a political prisoner’s dirty protest.  So it…

Sunday at the festival, the sun still scorching (have I mentioned it was hot yet), still full of youthful vigour (basically no hangover/tiredness going into day four of a festival), and the focal point of the day revolved around those three magic words: The Ned’s (I thought I’d shorten it to two words here as nobody reads long blog posts).

We’d already made use of the Melody Maker signing tent a…

Phoenix Festival 1994 - Saturday 15th July (Mega City Four)

The line ups across the Melody Maker and Comedy stages at the 1994 Phoenix Festival

Although I only caught about half of their set (and even then I may be being generous to my memory, it could have been as little as three or four songs), the Melody Maker stage hosted a band who were to leave a lasting (21 years and counting) impression on me … Mega City 4.

I’d bought one of their EPs due to their…

Phoenix Festival 1994 - Saturday

Day three of my first ever festival began with that amazingly youthful feeling of having been drunk the night before, but not the slightest trace of hangover.  Strangely it was overcast when we woke up.  Reggie was in a bad way, he was always a bit ahead of me in terms of life development, so whilst he beat me to shaving, he also work up feeling like shit after a night on the beer even at this…

The festival actually started on the Thursday, another unique sales pitch at the time.  I reckon a dozen of us got the train up together, a sort of inflated group from that that had gone to see Compulsion a few weeks before.  A bus ride from Stratford station and we were on site. There was nothing booked on the main stage that day, and the only band we actually saw were Urban Species, a godawful…

Trying to summarise everything I saw at my first festival into a single blog post would be an impossible task for me.  Without a doubt, the four days spent on a disused airstrip just outside of Stratford Upon Avon was the best time I’d ever had at that point in my life.  Over twenty years later, it is still right up there as one of the happiest times I have ever had.

Only £52!

The Phoenix was…

In stark contrast to everything else I’d been to, this took place in the middle of summer, on a scorching hot day.  I can’t remember everyone who went along, but think quite a big group of us went up.  Certainly Darren (again), a pal of ours called Graham, and for the first time, the fabulously named Dirty Man Stan.   Pretty sure that Reggie was there too, and possibly even some girls this time.

This one was almost totally forgotten until the post about the Levellers.  Possibly my first foray into Camden, this was all on the back of being on Papa Brittle’s mailing list after signing up (naturally) at the merch stall in Crawley.

I don’t have a recollection of being at the Underworld prior to this, but it was a favoured venue for many years, not least due its 10.30pm curfew, making the…

My new hobby takes a stellar leap forwards as I hit London after dark

By now it was time for London.  No more of this namby-pamby leisure centre nonsense, I wanted to go to proper gig venues like the ones that made the music press.  Having a face like a new born baby although being borderline legal drinking age, over 18 venues initially seemed a bit of a gamble, but LAII apparently was 16 plus.  I was later to learn that none of these places gave a shit how old you…

Having been so overwhelmed by the Ned’s experience, it does seem strange that the best part of year elapsed before I went to another gig.  Seeing a local band (Hed?) who had ‘a record deal’ play at the Royal Oak doesn’t really count and is lost to the memory beyond only the most cursory I was there.  It was a pub down the road, so barely qualifies, and certainly had no lasting impact (on me or…