Everyone has their moments in life when they remember exactly where they were and what they were doing when a significant event occurs in their lifetime that they weren't directly involved in. In my youth, the deaths of Elvis Presley and John Lennon fall into this category, not so much as the effect the news had on me but more the reaction of the people and the world at large around me. My own musical "death" epiphany would come much later on with the demise of Kurt Cobain. However, in my bedroom in the family home one early autumn evening in 1983 I bore witness to a live performance from a band I was previously indifferent to, which transfixed me in a way that has never been repeated since. It was the first broadcast of U2's Red Rocks performance on the seminal Channel 4 music show The Tube.
We have to remember that in 1983 Britain only had 4 TV channels, one of which, the edgy and innovative Channel 4, had only been on air for 12 months. The Tube was it's flagship music programme, one and a half hours of must-see live TV for the 16 years old me. In the family home we had our main television downstairs and a small "portable" TV upstairs on a trolley that was wheeled in between my siblings bedrooms. At the end of a disastrously brief day at college one Friday I returned home rather depressed and immersed in teenage angst. After my early evening meal I headed upstairs for my fix of The Tube. It was broadcast from 5.30pm-7.00pm. In the weeks prior to this day, The Tube had been advertising this U2 night as they were going to dedicate 1 full hour to the Red Rocks show. They hadn't previously given any band, let alone these young Irish upstarts, such airtime before so I was curious to see what all the fuss was about. Some well informed people must have worked at CH4's music department at this time as they clearly knew they had something special "in the can".
Anyway, my impressionable, but also cynical, self lay down on my bed and awaited this hyped performance. What followed was truly spectacular. This performance has since become a best-seller so you don't really need the likes of me to bang on about the setting, the stormy weather, a young band on a steep rise, an electrified audience etc but it was all those things. From a prone position I gradually eased to the edge of the bed and sat transfixed by each song and the energy and sheer enthusiasm of everyone involved. I was thoroughly smitten with the band and remained so for the rest of the decade.
These were innocent times, of course. Pre-internet, no satellite(cable) TV and all the other 21st century bombardments, so maybe this helps put into perspective just how this one hour of my life is so vividly recalled 30 years later. Even now when I watch the "Under a Blood Red Sky," show again I still get a tingle down my spine and feel 16 again (without the angst and spots).
Thursday 28 November 2013
Sunday 24 November 2013
Build A Future
Church bells ring out on the morning of Sunday
An ancient sound across a contemporaneous landscape
The faithful few answer the call to pray
As the seventh day begins to take shape
This once sacred day no different to the rest
No let up in the frenzy of modern living
This once sacred day was a day of rest
A time for reflection, prayer and giving
A cold world of isolation thrives
Bowed heads, fixed stares at a brightly lit device
What on earth are we doing with our lives?
No sense of virtue, indulging in vice
Too many distractions, we're losing our soul
A human racing to a robotic void
No sense of purpose, no ultimate goal
Filming everything, no moment left enjoyed
We don't need to think anymore
We've got the whole world in our hands
We aspire to wealth, only losers are poor
We can't build a future on sinking sands
An ancient sound across a contemporaneous landscape
The faithful few answer the call to pray
As the seventh day begins to take shape
This once sacred day no different to the rest
No let up in the frenzy of modern living
This once sacred day was a day of rest
A time for reflection, prayer and giving
A cold world of isolation thrives
Bowed heads, fixed stares at a brightly lit device
What on earth are we doing with our lives?
No sense of virtue, indulging in vice
Too many distractions, we're losing our soul
A human racing to a robotic void
No sense of purpose, no ultimate goal
Filming everything, no moment left enjoyed
We don't need to think anymore
We've got the whole world in our hands
We aspire to wealth, only losers are poor
We can't build a future on sinking sands
Tuesday 19 November 2013
Zero Hours Contract
Sign right here for the zero hours contract
Live your days in a mysterious void
Wait all day for calls that never come
Bills unpaid when you're under-employed
6 hours here and 4 hours there
No guarantees of work or pay
Honest workers trying to earn a living
Thousands of people struggling each day
Wealthy politicians say this suits the hoi polloi
You can't claim benefits, you've got a job
How can you live on 50 quid a week?
You have to laugh or else you'd sob
The contract with no hours is worthless and wrong
All smoke and mirrors, anxiety and stress
The future's uncertain, we need divine intervention
Can somebody please help us out of this mess?
Live your days in a mysterious void
Wait all day for calls that never come
Bills unpaid when you're under-employed
6 hours here and 4 hours there
No guarantees of work or pay
Honest workers trying to earn a living
Thousands of people struggling each day
Wealthy politicians say this suits the hoi polloi
You can't claim benefits, you've got a job
How can you live on 50 quid a week?
You have to laugh or else you'd sob
The contract with no hours is worthless and wrong
All smoke and mirrors, anxiety and stress
The future's uncertain, we need divine intervention
Can somebody please help us out of this mess?
Thursday 14 November 2013
Poverty in 1930s County Wexford
My mother was born near Camolin in County Wexford in the 1930s in what was then known as the Irish Free State. She lived through a childhood which was so deprived it makes Frank McCourt's account of his early childhood in the lanes of Limerick in Angela's Ashes seem positively privileged.
My mam lived in a rural location in a house with no running water and very little food and today's so called "poverty line" would have been luxurious compared to her family's genuine hardship. She had a daily 4 mile round trip on foot to the nearest school in all weathers dressed in little more than rags. One anecdote I can share with you is the time she returned home from school one afternoon with her usual hunger pains. Upon arrival into the freezing, poorly lit house she noticed her mother stirring a huge steaming pot in the kitchen. Mam's excitement was barely contained as the prospect of a feed of hot potatoes on this day was heaven sent. As she sat down at the table she asked my Granny when the spuds would be ready as she was in great pain with the hunger. Granny looked at her as if she was stupid and replied "These aren't potatoes, I'm washing the bed sheets". Apparently, all the spuds had gone and Granny was simply passing the time cleaning the bed linen in a pot over the ancient stove from water procured from the nearby river.
Now that WAS poverty.
My mam lived in a rural location in a house with no running water and very little food and today's so called "poverty line" would have been luxurious compared to her family's genuine hardship. She had a daily 4 mile round trip on foot to the nearest school in all weathers dressed in little more than rags. One anecdote I can share with you is the time she returned home from school one afternoon with her usual hunger pains. Upon arrival into the freezing, poorly lit house she noticed her mother stirring a huge steaming pot in the kitchen. Mam's excitement was barely contained as the prospect of a feed of hot potatoes on this day was heaven sent. As she sat down at the table she asked my Granny when the spuds would be ready as she was in great pain with the hunger. Granny looked at her as if she was stupid and replied "These aren't potatoes, I'm washing the bed sheets". Apparently, all the spuds had gone and Granny was simply passing the time cleaning the bed linen in a pot over the ancient stove from water procured from the nearby river.
Now that WAS poverty.
Wednesday 6 November 2013
Maine Road, Manchester - Pink Floyd, Simple Minds, Fleetwood Mac, also Transvision Vamp
The title of this post is self explanatory. No catastrophic occurrences during these 3 gigs, just an overview of the events and a look back in time to the performances of these extremely successful bands at Maine Road, Manchester.
First up, Pink Floyd. The year was 1988 and Maine Road was now being used as a stadium concert venue. I attended my first football match here in 1975 and 13 years later it had changed very little, only perhaps more dilapidated. The facilities then compared to the 21st century all seater, no singing, no dancing football grounds were crude to say the least. What, no perfumed hand gels in the toilets? Well for the male toilets at the back of the Kippax Stand you had to wade through a river of urine and God knows what else just to reach the crumbling brick block.What, no Jamie Oliver cuisine? errr...no, have a horse-meat pie and like it! For football fans of my generation, we didn't know any different and for gigs the facilities were not much different from the match days.
Anyway, on to Pink Floyd. The stage was built at the Platt Lane end of the ground and the band had installed all their usual lights, props, big screens and so on. This was the Momentary Lapse of Reason tour. Roger Waters had departed acrimoniously a few years earlier and, for me, this diluted their set and performance. I hadn't seem them live before but knew that the 3 remaining original members were not the most demonstrative musicians in the world. This didn't concern me at all. However, the addition of 3 female backing singers and several other back up musicians was not to my taste at all. My only other vivid memory of the show itself was all the flying pig props etc flying over the audience and semi impressive lights but it all felt a bit weird and dislocating for me to be stood on the plastic covered hallowed turf in the middle of Moss Side watching what remained of this legendary band. I'd give it 6 out of 10.
Second, we have Fleetwood Mac. This concert was again staged at Maine Road and again in 1988. I quite liked Fleetwood Mac but was more of a fan of their earlier stuff and not so much the pop mainstream Tango in the Night glam 1980s era. Unusually, I attended this show with my sister, Marie. This was the first concert I had ever attended with her but would not quite be the last. I will digress slightly here as 12 months on from this show I went to see Transvision Vamp( I know, sorry) at the International 2, fronted by the blonde minx Wendy James, with some mates. The gig was packed to the rafters on a warm summer evening and I got very drunk indeed before the show. I joined the heaving throng near the stage and ended up ripping my shirt off and seeing out the performance bare chested (look I was 22 and playing football so my body can't have been that bad) and was convinced Wendy was impressed. Anyway, leaving with the packed crowd (still bare chested) I , incredibly, bumped into my sister (she'd left home and was living the student life so I didn't even know she was at the gig). In front of her and her mates I shouted incoherently towards her, undoubtedly looking the complete bare chested balloon. I could hear one of her mates say "who's that?!", to which she replied, "errr, that's my brother". I think I may have responded with "Whoooaaahhh, Go on! Get in! You know it makes sense!" or some such nonsense.
Anyway, back to Fleetwood Mac. Similarly to Pink Floyd, they were also missing a valuable member, Lindsay Buckingham. He had refused to tour their current album and again the show was diluted for me. The rest of the night was only memorable for the vocal performance of the delightful ex-cocaine enthusiast Stevie Nicks. 5 out of 10 for this one.
Finally, we move on to August 1991 and another live concert visit to the crumbling old ground to see the Scottish stadium rockers Simple Minds. The audience for this show was markedly different to the other 2 in this post. The Pink Floyd crowd was largely male and older than me at the time, blokes in their 30s and 40s. Fleetwood Mac was more of a mixed affair with men and women of all ages. SM, however, was largely an under 30s crowd of beery lads, of which I was definitely one at the time. I wasn't a massive fan of SM but was familiar with a few of their albums and was told they came into their own in a live show. This proved to be the case. Unlike the aforementioned static 1988 shows this was an audience who wanted to bounce...and bounce a lot. I scrambled down to the front with my associate and joined the heaving masses for the first hour. I have to admit, Jim Kerr and the band were very, very good. The atmosphere was rowdy but controlled and songs such as Waterfront, Don't You Forget About Me etc were made for performing in front of a stadium audience. Mid set my mate and I took a break and headed over to the Kippax Stand to sit on the terraces where I had stood countless times before. We later joined the masses again to see out the show. Unexpectedly, this had proved to be the most enjoyable night of the three I spent at Maine Road concerts. 9 out of 10 for this one.
I later turned down the chance to see Oasis here in 1996 .I had seen a rather shambolic performance by them pre-Noel Gallagher in 1993 (see post elsewhere on my blog site) and have never been a fan.
First up, Pink Floyd. The year was 1988 and Maine Road was now being used as a stadium concert venue. I attended my first football match here in 1975 and 13 years later it had changed very little, only perhaps more dilapidated. The facilities then compared to the 21st century all seater, no singing, no dancing football grounds were crude to say the least. What, no perfumed hand gels in the toilets? Well for the male toilets at the back of the Kippax Stand you had to wade through a river of urine and God knows what else just to reach the crumbling brick block.What, no Jamie Oliver cuisine? errr...no, have a horse-meat pie and like it! For football fans of my generation, we didn't know any different and for gigs the facilities were not much different from the match days.
Anyway, on to Pink Floyd. The stage was built at the Platt Lane end of the ground and the band had installed all their usual lights, props, big screens and so on. This was the Momentary Lapse of Reason tour. Roger Waters had departed acrimoniously a few years earlier and, for me, this diluted their set and performance. I hadn't seem them live before but knew that the 3 remaining original members were not the most demonstrative musicians in the world. This didn't concern me at all. However, the addition of 3 female backing singers and several other back up musicians was not to my taste at all. My only other vivid memory of the show itself was all the flying pig props etc flying over the audience and semi impressive lights but it all felt a bit weird and dislocating for me to be stood on the plastic covered hallowed turf in the middle of Moss Side watching what remained of this legendary band. I'd give it 6 out of 10.
Second, we have Fleetwood Mac. This concert was again staged at Maine Road and again in 1988. I quite liked Fleetwood Mac but was more of a fan of their earlier stuff and not so much the pop mainstream Tango in the Night glam 1980s era. Unusually, I attended this show with my sister, Marie. This was the first concert I had ever attended with her but would not quite be the last. I will digress slightly here as 12 months on from this show I went to see Transvision Vamp( I know, sorry) at the International 2, fronted by the blonde minx Wendy James, with some mates. The gig was packed to the rafters on a warm summer evening and I got very drunk indeed before the show. I joined the heaving throng near the stage and ended up ripping my shirt off and seeing out the performance bare chested (look I was 22 and playing football so my body can't have been that bad) and was convinced Wendy was impressed. Anyway, leaving with the packed crowd (still bare chested) I , incredibly, bumped into my sister (she'd left home and was living the student life so I didn't even know she was at the gig). In front of her and her mates I shouted incoherently towards her, undoubtedly looking the complete bare chested balloon. I could hear one of her mates say "who's that?!", to which she replied, "errr, that's my brother". I think I may have responded with "Whoooaaahhh, Go on! Get in! You know it makes sense!" or some such nonsense.
Anyway, back to Fleetwood Mac. Similarly to Pink Floyd, they were also missing a valuable member, Lindsay Buckingham. He had refused to tour their current album and again the show was diluted for me. The rest of the night was only memorable for the vocal performance of the delightful ex-cocaine enthusiast Stevie Nicks. 5 out of 10 for this one.
Finally, we move on to August 1991 and another live concert visit to the crumbling old ground to see the Scottish stadium rockers Simple Minds. The audience for this show was markedly different to the other 2 in this post. The Pink Floyd crowd was largely male and older than me at the time, blokes in their 30s and 40s. Fleetwood Mac was more of a mixed affair with men and women of all ages. SM, however, was largely an under 30s crowd of beery lads, of which I was definitely one at the time. I wasn't a massive fan of SM but was familiar with a few of their albums and was told they came into their own in a live show. This proved to be the case. Unlike the aforementioned static 1988 shows this was an audience who wanted to bounce...and bounce a lot. I scrambled down to the front with my associate and joined the heaving masses for the first hour. I have to admit, Jim Kerr and the band were very, very good. The atmosphere was rowdy but controlled and songs such as Waterfront, Don't You Forget About Me etc were made for performing in front of a stadium audience. Mid set my mate and I took a break and headed over to the Kippax Stand to sit on the terraces where I had stood countless times before. We later joined the masses again to see out the show. Unexpectedly, this had proved to be the most enjoyable night of the three I spent at Maine Road concerts. 9 out of 10 for this one.
I later turned down the chance to see Oasis here in 1996 .I had seen a rather shambolic performance by them pre-Noel Gallagher in 1993 (see post elsewhere on my blog site) and have never been a fan.
Tuesday 5 November 2013
Words of Wisdom
2 years ago today I embarked on an inner voyage of discovery with my first blog post, imaginatively entitled "Bonfire Night", a devil's advocate type post on all things Guy Fawkes etc. Since then I have used it to showcase my thoughts and observations in poetic form, together with memories (good and not so good) of my chequered working life and tales of other parts my life to date.
I have found it to be very cathartic and would recommend it to anyone who can find the time and inclination to share a slice of their world with the population at large. Initially, my thoughts were "why would anyone want to read about my sad life?", but then as the views increased (6000 to date), I found the confidence to delve deeper into my psyche and unload my inner thoughts to the general populace.
It would please me greatly if anyone I knew personally did the same as I find one generally only scratches the surface of the multifaceted personality of those around them. I find social media does serve a purpose but is also greatly inhibiting, i.e, how much can you really get out of 140 characters? I also believe that most people have a social media "persona" and very often it gives no indication of what the person is really like in real life. A blog broadens that horizon and, for those who are interested, gives a better understanding of what makes the blogger tick. It's not the be all and end all of course but is a marked improvement on Twitter's "My toe nails need cutting #iamveryboring", "My football team is better than your football team #whocares", "I have just re-arranged my sock draw AND fed my goldfish #givemeanobelprize " and other such yawn-provoking guff.
I wish to thank all who have taken the time to read some of my stuff and nonsense. In today's world the pace of life seems to move faster then ever before with so many distractions using up time, so I do greatly appreciate your readership. Whatever life throws at you, keep your sense of humour and perspective. When times are good, take a second to breathe in the moment to savour later and in times of sorrow call on the people you love and trust. You know it makes sense.
I have found it to be very cathartic and would recommend it to anyone who can find the time and inclination to share a slice of their world with the population at large. Initially, my thoughts were "why would anyone want to read about my sad life?", but then as the views increased (6000 to date), I found the confidence to delve deeper into my psyche and unload my inner thoughts to the general populace.
It would please me greatly if anyone I knew personally did the same as I find one generally only scratches the surface of the multifaceted personality of those around them. I find social media does serve a purpose but is also greatly inhibiting, i.e, how much can you really get out of 140 characters? I also believe that most people have a social media "persona" and very often it gives no indication of what the person is really like in real life. A blog broadens that horizon and, for those who are interested, gives a better understanding of what makes the blogger tick. It's not the be all and end all of course but is a marked improvement on Twitter's "My toe nails need cutting #iamveryboring", "My football team is better than your football team #whocares", "I have just re-arranged my sock draw AND fed my goldfish #givemeanobelprize " and other such yawn-provoking guff.
I wish to thank all who have taken the time to read some of my stuff and nonsense. In today's world the pace of life seems to move faster then ever before with so many distractions using up time, so I do greatly appreciate your readership. Whatever life throws at you, keep your sense of humour and perspective. When times are good, take a second to breathe in the moment to savour later and in times of sorrow call on the people you love and trust. You know it makes sense.
Saturday 2 November 2013
Debs Reunited
Early years spent in Manchester11
I first knew her when I was7
When we were 8 she wrote me a letter
I'd been in hospital, she hoped I was better
Moved on to the same high school
Never hung out together but I knew she was cool
At 16 our paths went separate ways
Good times, bad times, happy and sad days
Decades passsed and I found that letter
Nearly forty years since I first met her
To trace school friends I asked the Evening News
They printed my e-mail, nothing to lose
Mother Malone read my email and called her offspring
An e-mail arrived from the girl who can sing
Re-united again after such a long while
Debs is her name with the winning smile
I first knew her when I was7
When we were 8 she wrote me a letter
I'd been in hospital, she hoped I was better
Moved on to the same high school
Never hung out together but I knew she was cool
At 16 our paths went separate ways
Good times, bad times, happy and sad days
Decades passsed and I found that letter
Nearly forty years since I first met her
To trace school friends I asked the Evening News
They printed my e-mail, nothing to lose
Mother Malone read my email and called her offspring
An e-mail arrived from the girl who can sing
Re-united again after such a long while
Debs is her name with the winning smile
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