Perhaps take a small diversion to pass Monmore Green Stadium on the way, although the hares won’t be running that night. Here’s the page for reviews and post-event chat.
Perhaps take a small diversion to pass Monmore Green Stadium on the way, although the hares won’t be running that night. Here’s the page for reviews and post-event chat.
dagenham dave
Just finished, what a night!
I need to drive back to London and will add more tomorrow but I can confirm it’s ‘capturing the zeitgeist’ and more importantly Dean Friedman appeared on stage and performed his song about Nigel!!
15 September 2010
desmon
What a great night… pic with Dean for the vast and tickets signed by Ken! Two HMHB virgins bit the dust tonight and are looking forward to the next gig…
16 September 2010
chedgzoy
Cracking gig, the Dean Friedman bit was fantastic – evening marred only by the rancid gravy served on my chips at the chippy over the road.
16 September 2010
Floreat Ultonia
Bravo!
1 Them’s the vagaries
2 Hedley Verityesque
3 RSVP
4 99% of Gargoyles
5 Took Problem Chimp to Ideal Home Show
6 Turned up clocked on laid off
7 Left Lyrics in the Practice Room
8 Uffington Wassail
9 1966 and all that
10 Monmore, Hare’s running
11 PRS yearbook
12 Dukla Praha away kit
13 Look Dad no Tunes
14 L’enfer c’est les Autres
15 Running order squabble fest
16 Country Practice
17 Trumpton Riots
18 Vatican Broadside
19 Light at the end of the tunnel
20 National Shite Day
21 For what is Chatteris?
22 24 hour garage people
23 Bastard son of [& with] Dean Friedman
24 Tommy Walsh’s Eco-house
25 We built this village
26 Joy Division oven gloves
(I think I missed some fragments and one longer song while looking for the loos)
16 September 2010
chedgzoy
Petty Sessions was in there somewhere
16 September 2010
Jeff Dreadnought
The omens were good. A hassle-free run up to Bilston from St Albans, pear drops on the M6 and a game involving an iPod on shuffle and knock-out competition rules that (after a shock first-round exit by pre-tournament favourite Trouble Over Bridgewater) proved beyond all dispute that the best HMHB album is in fact Cammell Laird Social Club. The man in the Burberry Fez’s meticulous planning ensured that we arrived on the stroke of 6 – giving us time for a couple of pints in the excellent White Horse (I’d recommend the Firebox, which comfortably meets the “over 5%” criterion – and bring your CAMRA membership card, because you’ll get 10p off a pint) before heading for the India Gates for a very enjoyable curry.
In excellent spirits by now, we headed for the Robin 2 to collect our tickets and soak up the pre-gig atmosphere. This is when we first noticed the fliers for the upcoming Dean Friedman tour and had what turned out to be a prescient conversation about a song he was rumoured to have written as a good-natured retaliatory tribute to NB57.
The set was breathless from the off, Them’s The Vagaries being a strong personal favourite. And from Bob Todd onwards its a bit of a blur, what with all the enthusiastic moshing, so I’m going on the set list Carl kindly let me have after the gig. There was a still-not-quite-word-perfect Problem Chimp, a collective loss of memory over the third line of Turned Up, Clocked On, Laid Off (the fellow on my right made a valiant effort but blew his chance), and then, after Left Lyrics (more new material performed in a live environment for the first time – enjoyable enough but still got some growing to do), a blistering seven-song salvo that began with Uffington, ended with Look Dad, No Tunes, and left me feeling utterly spent but euphoric. Got a second wind round about the time Sting started singing on the roof of the Barbican (Country Practice with its disturbing Elton Welsby imagery another huge personal favourite – and this time a thinly veiled excuse for a rant directed at Big Brother – does one of the contestants really look like Ernie Wise in a fright wig?) and rode the wave of jubilation right through to 24-Hour Garage People (Pringles a snip at £1.03 – although you can get them cheaper at Home Bargains, but don’t buy them at Newport Pagnell service station, where they cost an eye-watering £2.49) …and then the evening’s climactic moment, when Dean Friedman – the real, actual Dean Friedman – entered stage right and performed his song about Nigel – a poignant tale of forbidden love and unmentionable couplings between a kneady baker and his dough. After which the band launched into The Bastard Son of Dean Friedman – accompanied by Dean Friedman. (It was “surreal” – as if Dean had “been on a journey”, dealt with his “issues” and finally “found closure” with this song.) Anyway, it went down a storm and set up the now-familiar Village/JDOG encore. Splendid.
All in all, best-ever HMHB gig for me (and no, that’s not just the laudanum talking). And I’ve typed out the set list. Here it is:
Vagaries
Hedley
RSVP
Bob Todd
Problem Chimp
Turned Up
Left Lyrics
Uffington
Monmore
Petty Sessions
PRS
D. Prague
San Antonio
Look Dad
L’Enfer
Squabble Fest
C. Practice
T. Riots
Light Tunnel
Slip Knot
R. Leg
Shite Day
Chatteris
24hr Garage
[Village crossed out]
Half a Man and Half a Biscuit performed by Dean Friedman [not on Carl’s set list]
The Bastard Son of Dean Friedman performed by Half Man Half Biscuit with Dean Friedman [Not on Carl’s set list]
? Tommy Walsh
Village [E/Swing crossed out]
JDOG
16 September 2010
Third Rate Les
Somehow these gigs just seem to get better and better. It had all of the accessories required for the big match atmosphere (great pub, nice curry house, jam-free road trip, and a set which had almost all of my absolute 5-star favourites), but it also had those magic moments of unexpected delight, in particular the whole Dean Friedman thing which was just one of those “I was there” moments. Even got to have a brief chat with Carl and Ken afterwards too, and then bumped into Mr Friedman himself outside – what a nice chap.
For the record, Pringles were a reasonable £1.03, although £2.49 in the frigging Newport Pagnell (-ell -ell -ell) garage, where I also left my bag, of course, but the reservoir was a chilly 500 below. Lots of additional “my favourite things” too in Country Practice including “the crrrazy antics of Henri Leconte”. And a great aside after Friedman’s song – “people who bought that album also bought wind chimes”.
His French however, is atrocious, not least as he makes the common mistake of putting acute accents on Es where they shouldn’t be, so it comes out as (roughly) “L’Enfer c’est les autrés” by “Jean-Paul Sartré”. He makes David Gedge of The Wedding Present (who occasionally ventures into atrocious French) sound like Serge Gainsbourg.
And well done to Charles for flinging the world’s best Subbuteo accessory onto the stage – a streaker and policeman combo; particularly liked the “warning – contains small parts” sticker.
Nearly missed this one, as it required a mammoth drive there and back and very little sleep due to work commitments (medal, please…) but am thanking my lucky stars I made it.
We should, however, all hang our heads in shame at failing to be of any use to Nigel when he couldn’t remember the words to Turned Up Clocked On Laid Off. Ah well.
16 September 2010
BrumBiscuit
NB57 tantalised us with the opening bars of The Ballad of Climie Fisher at one stage.
The Olde White Rose’s 5.5% beer makes me unable to recall when.
What a night!
16 September 2010
dagenham dave
ah yes, well worth the drive. The lads above have managed to convey what a great evening it was. I’m convinced people won’t believe me when I tell them Dean Friedman appeared.
Some details that the contributors to this site may appreciate:
– Vatican Broadside was preceded by ‘Sandy Gall is Coming to Town’ sung to the tune of ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’
– one song was about the ‘badly parked Volkswagen on the Abbey Road cover’. It actually wasn’t but Nigel felt the need to get it off his chest.
– I saw 3 Dukla Prague away kits and two sets of oven gloves, it was quite dark so there may have been more.
– Nikki Grahame of Big Brother ‘fame’ was the person described as ‘Ernie Wise in a fright wig
– more details were revealed about the assistant in ’24 Hour Garage People’, his name is Graeme, he was drinking from an Al Murray Pub Landlord mug, reading ‘Holy Blood Holy Grail’, playing Bejeweled on his iPhone and listening to ‘Appetite for Destruction’ on his iPod.
“in his dreams he’s Axel Rose, in my nightmares he’s Axel Rose”.
– Nigel claimed that this was the first gig that he’d used a capo (on RSVP)
– Neil could earn a living being a Keith Chegwin lookalike
– in ‘Uffington…’ Nigel sang ‘power station’ as opposed to ‘fire station’ .
16 September 2010
Excellent
Think that set list will be going onto the iPod for listening before I go to Durham in November. Glad to see Bob Todd, my all time fave, on there!
Bit of a gap for me. Last time I saw the lads was at Sunderland Poly (see, Poly – that long ago!) in 1990. Missed the train home, had no spare cash for a taxi so we had to walk back to Durham down the A690, playing football with a ball we found on the central reservation, as we went.
16 September 2010
Anthony
Chedgzoy, the chippy over the road!!!!
Noooooooooooo!
Within 5 minutes walk you could have been at The Major chip shop. The best (golden battered) chips and a lightness of batter upon the cod sufficient to make a grown man weep.
A tragedy – if you are going again let me know and we’ll give you a guided tour or some directions.
16 September 2010
Excellent
And they were supported by Levellers 5. Feels like ancient histoy now :S
16 September 2010
Mac
Although on the set list Restless Legs wasn’t played – which was a shame. But a sacrifice well made to see Dean Friedman. Surely THE seminal moment in Rock history?
I think I got Neil’s list:
http://i271.photobucket.com/albums/jj123/coops1989/Photo0230.jpg
16 September 2010
chedgzoy
@ Anthony – now you tell me – won’t be going back there in a hurry. Neil Crossley was in there a few places in front of the queue – he had chips and curry sauce for the record
16 September 2010
Floreat Ultonia
Sorry, forgot my manners above as well as the Foam Party. Hello to Mac, Dave W and all in the Villa posse who invited me in for a pint after we met coming off the tram. I’ll think so much better of the Claret and Blues in future, especially if that rumor about re-signing Steven Davis is true.
16 September 2010
Jeff Dreadnought
Further research reveals that Dean Friedman’s song is called Tale of a Baker’s Son. Lyrics as follows:
Once upon a time there was a baker
Who spent all day making buns or cakes or
…Rolls or loaves of bread or muffins
And he loved his work but it wasn’t enough and…
He longed to offer up his heart
to not just any tart,
but to one of substance and of virtue
but suitable candidates were oh so few.
Nigel Blackwell, pray please do tell:
How could your parents risk it?
A baker’s son, born of a bun…
Half a man, half a biscuit
He gently took her from the oven
Her sweet scent set off waves of loving
His eyes beheld her flakey crust.
He thought, ‘I mustn’t… but I must!’
Alas, Nigel’s dad could not resist her
He held her close and then he kissed her
Before another word was uttered
His momma’s buns were buttered
Nigel Blackwell, pray please do tell:
How could your parents risk it?
A baker’s son, born of a bun…
Half a man, half a biscuit
And so, please mark this poignant tale
Next time you see baked goods for sale
Which proves true love defies convention
(And leads to couplings we can’t mention)
And so, it comes as no surprise,
The kneady baker’s dough did rise
Though some may scoff, deride and scorn
From such forbidden love, Nigel was born.
Nigel Blackwell, pray please do tell:
How could your parents risk it?
A baker’s son, born of a bun…
Half a man, half a biscuit
16 September 2010
Richard Lovell
Boy do I regret getting the bus instead of driving now (2 hours in all back to Birmingham). Had to leave as National Shite Day started so missed the whole Dean Friedman extravaganza.
Still, as the above so have said so eloquently, twas a stellar gig.
16 September 2010
Third Rate Les
I wonder if Mr Friedman has also been reading Fruit T. Bunn in Viz?
Also, I noticed that the driving range was only half a mile from town, so appears to have got a mile nearer. Perhaps the town has sprawled.
16 September 2010
Chris The Siteowner
Unbelievably, as I was reading the above, iTunes shuffle play – from a choice of 12,671 songs – decided to play The Bastard Son of Dean Friedman. I think that Steve Jobs fella is psychic.
16 September 2010
Charles Exford
I notice that Mike Wade, the (Murdoch) hack who first took Friedman to see HMHB and first published Friedman’s (frankly dire) ditty in Feb ’09 also has an interview on his blog page with John Byrne the Scottish writer & painter. A vaguely interesting coincidence.
16 September 2010
steam engine
Dean at Crosby Civic Hall next week. Not going but may try and have a word with him outside. Last nights gig sounded awesome. Just 17 days til Preston. Can’t wait now!
16 September 2010
Chris The Siteowner
OK folks, someone’s put it on YouTube!
16 September 2010
Greasby Shark
I too had to leave early, as I was in court the following morning (in a professional capacity, I hasten too add!) and am absolutely gutted to have missed DF’s appearance (I would have loved to have shouted, “Hey, Dean…slide over here!”, at him).
Nevertheless, this was right up there with the best HMHB gigs I have ever attended, if not THE best.
Following Bob Todd, I said to Nigel, “That takes me back to the Mardi Gras (nightclub in Liverpool) in 1986” (my first HMHB gig). Nigel recalled that it was “upstairs” (which it was) and that it was a Probe Plus showcase night (which it was). When I (jokingly) remarked that Gone To Earth (seminal 1980s Liverpool folk / rock group) had blown them off the stage, Nigel quipped, “They always did!”
Counting down the days until Preston!
17 September 2010
BrumBiscuit
So how do you follow Dean Friedman? Anyone know if Dickie Davies has a free hour or two on 3rd October?
I see Viz reincarnated Rod Hull in a recent edition. Maybe he could be persuaded?
17 September 2010
Floreat Ultonia
Gordon Giltrap or Nazareth for me, of course. Or at least a girl from McHunless.
18 September 2010
Neil G
I’d like to see the Bootleg Mark Chapman. I don’t know what he’d sing though.
20 September 2010
Richard Lovell
Ted Moult, standing behind a pane of double-glazed glass, droppping a feather.
20 September 2010
BrumBiscuit
@NEIL G: “I’d like to see the Bootleg Mark Chapman. I don’t know what he’d sing though.”
Jailhouse Rock?
20 September 2010
a_p
I’d like to see all the dead ones featured in a multi-media extravaganza demonstrating their party pieces. Reminds me, amongst the lists of Biscuitry I don’t recall a role-call of the dead ‘uns.
20 September 2010
Charles Exford
Tried to get a chant of “we want Nerys Hughes, said we want Nerys Hughes” going (to the tune of “oops upside yer head” naturally) last week before the encores. Then suddenly realised it could have been taken as a futile song request, rather than a concept for another brilliantly unlikely showbiz collaboration to be passed on to Ms. Hughes’ agent via the medium of Youtube perhaps, and so we stopped forthwith. Anyway I can’t remember her ever singing anything, not even on “Alphabet Zoo”.
As for the curse list, there was a thread on the Yahoo HMHB group in 2009 I think, maybe it was late 2008 though, with just about everyone arranged in order of their (lack of) longevity after being mentioned in the lyrics. At the time I remember wondering if I should re-post it all on here but back then the only threads on here were individual songs, media references and PBRs, and it didn’t seem to fit in. It were all just fields round here back then.
Bit of a burglary at Exford Towers while I was at footy yesterday (they checked me shed and found I hadn’t locked up me mountain bike) so I’m just waiting to have me locks changed etc. this morning, then I’ll go find it said list of the accursed, and paste it here in full. Well, I’m sure you lot will soon find it’s not full at all.
20 September 2010
a_p
Cheers Exxo
20 September 2010
a_p
So did they scarper with said bikes? Not only does one have to check one’s shed but also lock up one’s bike inside the shed — what a todo!
20 September 2010
Martin
Absolutely fantastic gig, and the wonderment of seeing Mr Friedman was just bizarre.
I should have realised I was on for a surreal-a-thon when Mr Exford introduced a well-oiled me to the Birmingham branch of the fan club of Hamburg football team, St. Pauli. Things like that just don’t happen every day.
20 September 2010
Charles “Charles Exford” Exford
Ah, Bilston ….
A new season dawns, and a large expectant home following descends on the Robin 2 in Bilston. Meanwhile the well-travelled away fans are meeting up with mates in the “Olde White Rose” round the corner, where the selection of real ales is not far short of awe-inspiring and the carvery, recommended to me by a fellow CAMRA-man, is an unlikely £3.95 but nonetheless highly recommended. The squad nutritionist advises me to make sure digestion is well under way at least two hours before kick off. A member of our favourite outfit is spotted having chips and curry sauce across the road but I’m glad I ‘m not temptd to join him as I manage to fit about 14 roast potatoes on me plate here in the pub, thank you.
I’m in the away following today because I’ve arrived straight off a short walking holiday which started five days ago at Three Cocks, continuing via Lord Hereford’s Knob, and because I’ve got a six-and-a-half hour train journey back to Leeds afterwards. I’ve phoned ahead to make sure I’m OK bringing a huge backpack into the gig, but Bilston isn’t Tel Aviv so it’s OK they say.
Trouble is, nobody’s told Bruiser McHuge it’s OK. So what should be the first magical click of a new season’s turnstiles, followed by the vista of an arena in pristine condition and the collective anticipation of dreams fulfilled … is in reality marred by an unseemly encounter with a jobsworth who may not be on the ‘roids, but he’s definitely not a just a token “don’t fear Bert” figure either.
“What’s that? Not alcohol is it?” he bangs my large Red Army steel hip flask, which is not even slightly obvious beneath the nylon of a side pocket. He’s a professional alright.
“Yeah, that’s a hip-flask. I’ve been on a camping trip.”
“You can’t take that in there.”
“But it’s going in the cloakroom.”
“No it isn’t, the cloakroom’s not open, you can put the bag behind the bar. But to get there you have to go through the venue, so I can’t let you take any alcohol in there.”
“But I won’t get it out.”
Nothing doing. “You can drink it outside.”
“I don’t want to drink that much JD. It’ll come in handy later on, that – I’ve got 3 hours to wait in Manchester. What if one of the staff takes it through that door there into the bar?”
A queue is building up behind and our McHuge ain’t no multi-tasker, so he grunts that I can leave the bag, go into the gig, round to the bar, and ask one of them to open a staff-only door. In the end it’s too heavy for anyone but me to lift the bag through, so technically I still am guilty of carrying alcohol into the venue, albeit behind the bar, where it stays. McHuge is still frowning, so before he can think up another Bilston by-law, I melt into the crowd, not at all obvious in my all-yellow away kit.
Where were we? Our favourite outfit sidle on at the customary hour of nine bells and as has become equally customary they diffuse the tension expertly with a minute of two of faffing around. This time it’s “No power at the back of the stage. Some might say that’s a good thing.”
Most of our old favourites look as if they’ve kept reasonably fit during the close season, which is all you can demand at this level really, and is more than you can say for 98% of the audience. Nigel himself a great advert for using up at least as many calories as you consume. “I much prefer it when the season’s over”, he once said. “You can get more done.” And so there’s no cagey energy-saving opening, no sir, and both the band and the mosh get stuck into a brilliant opening of “them’s the Vagaries” followed by an even more brilliant “Hedley Verityesque”.
Rightly or wrongly, I’ve always assumed “Hedley Verityesque” to be a Neil Crossley tune, as several of my all-time personal favourites probably are. The ones with the unusual, jaunty basslines, I’ve always suspected. So that’s why we’re only ten minutes into the fixture and I’m already in trouble for my over-exuberant chanting: “Neil Cross-ley is a Rock’n’Roll Genius, clap-clap clap-clap, clap-clap-clap clap-clap.” You see I’ve been diagnosed as missing the gene that stops people from blurting out the first thing that comes into their head. “Don’t tell him that” says the skipper. “That’ll be hell for two hours on the way back in the van, and he has to drive it too.” OK, I’ll add that to the list of things not to blurt, along with shouting “What about KP Wigwams?!” during 24-HGP, as if NB57 himself were guilty of abolishing my favourite ever potato snack. That’s not what I meant to imply and he isn’t. Not as far as I know.
Yes indeed, you can get a lot more done in the summer when there’s no footy, like writing and refining new songs, for example. Tonight’s squad of 26 songs features no fewer than 4 new faces, the same 4 new ones we saw in the pre-season outing at the BBC in Manchester.
In fact of the 26 songs, only 14 of the line-up are the same that appeared at the last gig of last season in Shrewsbury, giving us a S.A.D. (Statistic of Approximate Differentiation) of 46% for this gig. So it may take a while for the new faces to gel this season. “RSVP” is first of the new boys in the spotlight tonight, and NB57 seems to have left some of his lyrics in the practice room, forgetting the start of the second verse (“And in a cruel twist of fate which so often occurs in tales such as this” ) and being obliged to hum that bit with some of the audience apparently already knowing the words rather better. We are fast approaching the 25th anniversary of John Peel first playing a HMHB track, at the wrong speed naturally, so this sort of thing seems entirely appropriate at this level of the game.
The new season of course brings new kit sponsorship deals for your team’s stars. During “24-hour Garage People”, after telling us that Pringles are 86p at Home Bargains, Nigel announces he is now the face of that particular chain, who have kindly supplied his t-shirt for him. It’s great to know they have started doing branded Italian cycling gear. Nigel’s new footwear though is giving him trouble, squeaking during the quiet bits of the songs, he reckons. Doing bird impressions, notably a distressed hen harrier, he says. If only the problem had emerged during rehearsal they could have worked this into the “Meadow of Consolation” section of “Wrong Grave”, duelling in tandem with Ken’s effects pedal. But alas that’s not on the setlist tonight.
This season, if you stop at the 24-Hour Garage on you way back from an evening match at Prenton Park (perhaps you manage a League Two team from Lancashire and are thinking of providing a home for some of the poor wretched waifs from Liverpool reserves who play at Prenton?), you will find that our favourite Shell garage employee has a name-badge saying “Graeme”, and if you are unlucky he may still be playing “Bejewelled” on his i-Phone or reading “The Holy Blood, The Holy Grail”. He is reading this volume because he thinks that makes him cleverer than people reading the Dan Brown book, which, he has heard, is a rip-off of this one. He’s been told this is the real thing, supposedly “more historically accurate”. In fact we are told that Graeme thinks he’s reading a documentary history of recent bloody events at Harlequins Rugby Club (as they sought the Holy Grail of the Heineken Cup under Dean “in fact you’ve won a nice 3-year holiday Deano you cheating twat” Richards).
Graeme has “Appetite for Destruction” on his i-Pod. “In his dreams he’s Axel Rose. In my nightmares he’s Axel Rose”, growls Nigel, “and I’ve got an Appetite for Distraction, so I ask him “What sandwiches have you got?” ”
By the way the reason I recommend visiting the Prenton garage after a Liverpool Reserves match rather than a Tranmere match is that after the latter NB57 will have no fewer than TWELVE pre-arranged friends in the garage queue, 11 of whom want Frazzles. The other one is determined to acquire some Rancheros, becoming increasingly insistent, even when it is pointed out that they are no longer made.
At the start of a new season another problem is that Match of the Day can be delayed due to prolonged bouts of “that bobbing up and down thing they do at the proms”, which in turn causes knock-on delays to The Football League Show afterwards of course. Nigel of course targets this annual catastrophe during a brilliant rendition of “A Country Practice”, and makes those of us who are bobbing up and down at that point feel distinctly self-conscious. He reminds us in case we have forgotten that Elgar hated the idea of words being put to “Pomp and Circumstance.” (Surely one day in the 22nd century Blackwell will be rolling into the wrong grave when National Shite Day is abridged and adapted for performance in the Albert Hall, forever, probably replacing the word “Shite” with “Nice”).
The knife is also stuck into “opinionated ex-Big Brother stars who thought they could go on and do other things besides… so they go on a journey …seeking closure …Nikki Grahame? Ernie Wise in a fright wig!” We can hear Adrian-stroke-Sophie saying “Go on a journey” , “closure” and “issues” too. As well as always responding “Oh yeah, yeah, yeah,” instead of just “yes”.
Our star striker is on great form, and the displays of individual trickery between the actual songs include a couplet about Fatima Whitbread to the tune of “Eleanor Rigby”, and, after a weary complaint about “the glazed expressions of newsreaders” there is a Christmassy chorus warning us that “Sandy Gall is coming to town”. One song is introduced as “being about the badly-parked VW on the Abbey Road cover. Actually it’s not, but I just wanted to get that off me chest.”
There are the usual geographical snippets too, though a few days later I can’t remember the exact details. One description of a recommended route in Snowdonia may have been detailing the best way to do the peaks round the Ogwen Lake, and another song, possibly “24-HGP” in fact, is introduced as being “about descending the Idwal Slabs”, or was it the “Stoneway Steps”? Anyway, descending something steep, somewhere in Salop or Snowdonia or somesuchlike region.
By the way It has been alleged by another reviewer that in the introduction to another fine new song, for “L’enfer c’est les autres”, NB57 didn’t know how to pronounce “Sartre”. It seems likely that this song title is one of his favourite sayings (I heard him say for example about the type of people behind him at the match who’ve been going to footy since the family thing got big in the late eighties), and you don’t seriously think that Nigel isn’t familiar, for example, with the Python sketches that feature Sartre’s name? Though he would probably deny it and say “You’ve got to remember I left school at 15”, I’d say Nigel knows pretty well more or less how to pronounce Sartre’s name, but was either deliberately and self-effacingly mispronouncing or just a bit embarrassed to give it a proper go.
What else? Oh yeah, I nearly forgot, Dean Friedman turns up and it means we don’t get either “Restless Legs” or “Evening of Swing”, both of which were on the original set-lists as recovered from the stage afterwards by fellow punters. It seems that Friedman has found a window in his diary between his annual Edinburgh stint and the start of his tour, and has invited himself along some weeks back, without the band really believing he’ll actually turn up. So after 24-HGP Nigel looks around and asks “where’s our man? Oh he’s there. Right, here’s a friend of ours who’s here to do his new song.” There is a hint of embarrassment, as if they can’t really say no, because after all by all accounts it seems things were extremely affable when Dean came backstage at Edinburgh a few years back, and yes, he did mutter something about sharing a stage sometime, and we did mutter something back, and he has made the effort of the journey so errm we can’t say no really. That’s how it feels to me – I don’t know if there’s any truth to that interpretation,obviously.
It could be a bit embarrassing, not least because Friedman’s offering isn’t exactly lyrically a classic, apart from the fact that at long last their are references to HMHB in a work by another artiste. (Quick! Start a web page for such references!) But maybe the whole point is that the lyrics to this one are crap, and it was the crowd that made it. In fact the crowd’s reaction was nothing short of phenomenal, introducing Friedman to a bit of UK terrace culture by chanting “Deano! Deano! Deano!” from the moment he appeared, singing along with the chorus and generally giving him the reception that his magnanimity (and the band’s) undoubtedly deserved, and that this as an “I was there” moment” certainly deserved, but his actual ditty itself probably didn’t. It was I must admit an unforgettable, electric moment and as Deano then joined in with “The Bastard Son”, the little moshpit went truly berserk. Blackwell and Friedman shook hands and exited stage right, as we drew breath and pinched ourselves. Some chanted for a personal appearance by Nerys Hughes, others for a guest spot from Slipknot. Well OK, actually, they were both me. Many more still chanted for “Deano!”
The brilliant encores feature the fabulously original rhythm of new song “Tommy Walsh’s Eco-House”, set to become a real favourite down in the mosh methinks. Once again, we have had 2 hours of active play for our £16 plus booking fee, and it’s a doubly satisfying 3 points tonight, as you so rarely get much chance for a bit of bunking on away trips these days but technically speaking I didn’t have a valid ticket for the bit between Crewe and Piccadilly. Pure evil in a DPAK, that’s me.
Cheers to all I shared a beer with off the Lyrics Project, with especial respect to “The Birmingham Boys in Brown”, a gang of Villa and Blues fans united in their love of HMHB and of the St. Pauli terrace culture. But maybe you’d do the brilliant St. Pauli fans even prouder if you varied the chanting a bit? Wouldn’t want to become the next Rotherham Postie, would you?
23 September 2010
s.g.d A Shropshire Lad
A good match report there sir.
It was descending “the Stiperstones” which is in Salop/Shropshire as you pointed out.
This prompted the mention of “Gone to Earth” which is the Mary Webb novel set in the area not the band who used to be the support band in the early days(was it at Stoke Jolees in ’86 when they turned up so late that they went on after HMHB?)
Mr Friedman was pipped in the race to be the first to mention HMHB in song by I,Ludicrous in 1993.
I hope that you can do match reports for the rest of the season but two questions:
1 what was the attendance?
2 how did you manage to find the Subbuteo shop in Knighton open?
23 September 2010
Charles “Charles Exford” Exford
Ah, yes, The Stiperstones, of course it was, thanks for that. I reckon I could see that particular ridge from atop The Knob the other day (see forthcoming ramble in LHK thread or in PBRs).
Attendance about 500 I’m guessing in a 700 capacity arena ?
As for the shop of our boyhood dreams in Knighton, I never even knew it was there* so you might call it luck, but to me it was pure destiny that that’s where I got too knackered to carry on up Offa’s Dyke and that it was just by the station, and open before my train left.
Gone to Earth? There was me thinking the band were named after the classic B.J.H. album of that name (memories of my first proper gig, Liverpool Empire, mid 70s). Was there a bit of B.J.H. banter in the stream-of-consciousness last week, too ?
Also just randomly remembered another between-songs interlude, Nigel singing some brief Ryder Cup reference about “There’s only one Corey Pavin…”
*I’d never heard of he shop, but it does seem it’s the only one in the world and so quite famous, and ‘cos nothing else ever happens in Mid-Wales beyond drive-by shoutings, there’s been loads of his figures pictured in BBC mid-Wales articles over the years if you google “Subbuteo streaker Knighton” or “subbuteo Rooney Knighton”, “subbuteo goal celebrations Knighton”, etc, “subbuteo Collina Knighton” etc, etc.
24 September 2010
Charles Exford
Ha, ha, lest I needed reminding how annoying some people must find that type of review, I just stumbled upon the best ever opening two paras of a previously unseen (by me) HMHB gig review.
Credit goes to Dave Wiggins (c) Swine Magazine, for his review of Shepherd’s Bush, Xmas 2006:
“A particularly distasteful feature of Half Man Half Biscuit ‘live’ reviews – see the excellent hmhb.co.uk – is the way they always start with something like, “so I met up with Carlisle Pete, and St Neots Steve, in the Kebab and Calculator, Matlock. They do a fine pint of Foreskins Old Rectangular”. Just concentrate on the gig, you middle-aged weirdos.
And so it was, that a few nights before Christmas, I met up with two WSAG regulars, and some time SWINEsters, Mr Dog Catcher and Mr Brassneck, at O’Neill’s bar, in that there London town. They do a boss Orange and Passion Fruit J2O. The evening began with some fine comedy, as the Dog unsuccessfully tried to tout the spare ticket that had arisen due to Mr Stabilo’s illness/bird-sloping (depending on whose version you believe).”
24 September 2010
chedgzoy
Haha, is everyone on here WSAGers too?!
Great site lads.
24 September 2010
Peter Gandy
Can’t be that many Evertonians on here – assuming WSAG is ‘When Skies are Grey’.
24 September 2010
Alan K
@Chedgzoy, yep mate, I’m FCOL.
30 September 2010
Ben
TDC *Waves*
30 September 2010
Alan K
Arf!!
1 October 2010
Charles Exford
@SGDA – I finally got round to doing a blog post about how the Subbuteo Streakers got to this gig.
23 March 2012
s.g.d
top bloggin’ sir.
work takes me through Knighton most weeks but I still haven’t been in the shop.
Do you think that he could do a bespoke streaker – Shrewsbury Town versus Palace 20/9/1975 – the blue and amber bar scarf twirling whilst the Star Soccer cameraman did his best to follow the streaker?
24 March 2012