And so to Stuart Vallantine’s map for some interesting Leicester-related Biscuity goodness, only to find, horrifically, that the city has something of a Biscuit Reference Exclusion Zone going on around it. Seriously, you have to go as far as the Rock City Notts (to the north) and Billing Aquadrome (to the south) to find a “local” mention. Bobby Svarc played for the Foxes though. I’m sure Nigel will manage to mention Belgrave Hall Museum & Gardens or something as compensation. Over to you for the reviews.
Third Rate Les
Another cracking night, and a set list full of classics but notable for its omission of the usual 24 Hour Garage People ramble.
Nigel kicked off with a brief mention of the late Poly Styrene, and then, “lest we forget”, piled into Fuckin’ ‘Ell It’s Fred Titmus as an opener. I think San Antonio was next, which was a bit more stately than usual; after that we had some crowd banter which resulted in the Bloke Who Does The PA turning up Ken a bit and intermittently adding a loud hum which Nigel occasionally asked to turn down.
The Royal Wedding got a few mentions, largely in National Shite Day and in Country Practice, and generally I suspect Nigel won’t be glued to the TV with his commemorative mug. One punter (well, my trusty sidekick Jeff Dreadnought, in fact) turned up with some Royal Wedding oven gloves too – nice.
Not very good at remembering the rest, but there was plenty of Achtung Bono (Restless Legs, JDOG, Trad Arr Tunes, Chatteris and personal fave Surging Out Of Convalescence) and quite a few oldies (99% of Gargoyles, Trumpton, Dukla Prague, Fred Titmus, and maybe another). Of the new songs there was Left Lyrics and Tommy Walsh, which sounded ace to me. Other recent-ish ones were Evening Of Swing, Petty Sessions and National Shite Day. Other crowd faves included Running Order Squabble Fest, The Light at The End Of The Tunnel, Slipknot, Bob Wilson, Bad Review and Deep House. Taking it down a little we also had Lark Descending and, as I said, a fairly Royal Wedding-focused Country Practice. I think maybe highlight for me was A Lilac Harry Quinn which was spot on.
Them’s The Vagaries and Everything’s AOR were the encore, I think, with Blondie’s Dreaming. Ace.
Band looked in good form with some entertaining chat between each throw. I didn’t notice too many custom lyrics – the lake was 90 miles deep and 100 below, his “what I call pleasure” was twelve somethings I didn’t catch, and of course there were mentions of weddings in a couple of them.
Some good-natured moshing and generally another top night out.
29 April 2011
Vince
Top gig, and in my own home town too, so no two hour drive back. Always a good one.
TRL: “his “what I call pleasure” was twelve somethings”
If I’m not mistaken it was “the Tour de France”
Memorable line from one of the new ones was about throwing yourself of the roof of Dignitas. Great stuff.
29 April 2011
Jules
Very good night. Good natured bank holiday crowd.
Arrived too late to see the support act – were they any good?
29 April 2011
Third Rate Les
Oh yeah, also it was “the almost immortal Elton Welsby”, not illegal.
And it was Faraday who was the engineer, and Stephenson the desired recipient of beer.
These things keep coming back to me.
29 April 2011
Chris The Siteowner
For What is Chatteris (thanks macw72)
Dreaming (thanks DustyCustard)
29 April 2011
Kingsbeef
The support band were woeful. Or at least the singer was with his fourth rate Mark E Smith impression and Asparagus Next Left is the only other song I can remember that hasn’t been mentioned.
And I have to say I think scotch eggs don’t need the salt.
29 April 2011
Rich
Full setlist:
Fuckin’ ‘Ell It’s Fred Titmus
San Antonio Foam Party
Restless Legs
Asparagus Next Left
Petty Seasions
Running Order Squabble Fest
Bob Wilson Anchorman
Left Lyrics in the Practice Room
Deep House Victims Minibus Appeal
Trumpton Riots
Bad Review
National Shite Day
The Light At The End Of The Tunnel (Is The Light Of An Oncoming Train)
Lark Descending
Surging Out of Convalescence
A Lilac Harry Quinn
99% of Gargoyles Look Like Bob Todd
Tommy Walsh’s Eco House
All I Want for Christmas is a Dukla Prague Away Kit
Joy Division Oven Gloves
For What is Chatteris?
Evening of Swing (Has Been Cancelled)
Vatican Broadside
A Country Practice
We Built This Village on a Trad. Arr. Tune
Them’s the Vagaries
Dreaming (Blondie)
Everything’s A.O.R.
From Life in the Bus Lane
29 April 2011
Fredorrarci
This tipsy gig attendee reports that Geoff Davies told him that the new album will be out in September.
30 April 2011
Charles Exford
Once again, feel free to scroll down to the gig bit if you don’t like the tedious pre-gig waffle.
I was going to start this off by asking “who remembers those I-Spy books that some of us got given to pass the time on long car journeys and holidays in the 60s and 70s?” In fact I Amazon-ed just now, to see if I could still buy any second hand 1970’s I-Spy books… only to find out that Michelin re-launched the franchise in 2009 and has re-published about 20 of the blighters since…and they’re only about £2.50! Mrs Exford will be delighted that she will now have something to keep me quiet in the passenger seat and stop me counting out loud, compiling league tables of haulage firms and high street brands (*) or of which league teams have the most regalia in car windows.
(*heading for Leicester on the M6 and A50 the inevitable winners were Stobart and Walkers respectively)
So anyway, why I mention these books is because of the amount of HMHB reference-points there are to be spied on an M6-A50 drive from Blackpool down to Leicester. Sign for Parbold – 10 points. Thelwall Viaduct – 10 points, doubled if it’s the afternoon, trebled if it’s a Friday.. Knutsford City Limits – 10 points. Hilton Park services – 10 points, times ten if any former TV presenter lookalikes are spotted, though of course none were. Pass Uttoxeter racecourse – 20 points, doubled if it’s a raceday, quadrupled if it’s around 1.35pm. Add to those the many ‘2 Chevrons Apart’ signs and the 100 points I got on the M62 the previous day for seeing lambs which appeared to have been born on the central reservation (at Stott Hall Farm, if you know the spot), and well, Big Chief I-Spy is going to be hearing from me sooner rather than later. I even got 20 points for hearing the word “aplomb” being used, when Mrs. Exford read it from the label of a beer bottle I when we stopped for our picnic at Knutsford (the phrase is “with true archiepiscopal aplomb” in fact – see the neck of the Theakston’s O.P. bottles next time you’re browsing real ale offers in Tesco , where they are currently very good value at four for a fiver).
There doesn’t seem to be much to spot in Leicester itself these days, however. We can’t blame them for the war-time blitzes, shite 50s and 60s town planners, the state of the Highcross Centre (namely the 51st State, with private security patrolling menacingly), and the drabby, shabby commercial exploitation of nauseating regal nuptuality. Those would all be the same as most other UK towns on the eve of a National Shite Day. But surely we _can_ blame Leicester for having one of the worst sporting sculptures ever conceived at the junction of its major shopping streets, and the fact that none of the bar staff here in four different pubs seemed to bother turning the pump-clips around when they’ve run out of their best ales. Most annoying. But if you’re in Leicester city centre and you spot the ugly frontage of the Criterion pub, do think it. This place encompasses the entire lyrics of CAMRA Man and more besides: like decent pizzas, a forthcoming gig by Attila and Blyth Power, free samples of cider that actually tastes of apples and a brilliant jukebox from which Mrs Exford chose White Riot, Anarchy in the UK, etc, to kick off a riotous Mayday weekend. And I chose Shot by both Sides.
In the I-Spy book of gig venues, the Leicester Auditorium would be lucky to manage even a moderate score. No points for tickets, cos all we got was a hand-stamp, no points for collectable posters for the gig we were attending, none of the points for the relics of its cinema days that you would get at a venue like the Holmfirth Picturdrome, no points for any sort of decor of any kind in fact, maybe 5 points for punky DIY black walls and black drab everything, no points for making the support band appear on time, because thy didn’t, with all of the knock-on effects for the main set. 20 points for overhearing Geoff grumbling about everyone being too nice to insist that the support band take the stage on time, no points for affordable alcohol and just 1 point for availability of real ale (Greene King IPA £3.50). So we go back out to the pub for a while.
When we finally re-emerge, the support band Echolocation are in full cry, and what a nasal cry it is, too. We’d checked out the stuff on their murdochspace page that morning and been impressed. I actually told Maud this had the potential to be the best support band I’d heard at an HMHB gig! But conditions tonight don’t suit them. Packed with musical ability and powerful tunes, we caught them on the wrong night. They could have done without all but a handful of the audience still being 30/40 yards away; the singer having retreated into a shell whence he made no attempt to engage us. He sounds like he’s got a nasty cold. The rhythms are there, but they don’t grab us. The Auditorium feels like it’s still a cinema. As a portrait of dystopian alienation, however, it is thought-provoking, as is the 50/60-yard gulf between our own favourite combo and their management when people ask at Geoff’s table about what is happening with the forthcoming album. The phrase “they haven’t even gone into the studio yet” is issued to more than one enquiring fan with a particular poignancy that could just as easily have been preceded by “5k? 5k?”
THE GIG BIT
As a result of the late-running support act, HMHB take to the stage in a bit of a hurry, and a PA which had been barely loud enough for a support band was initially far too quiet for an audience that had quickly filled that 30-yard gap. 10 points for spying Roger Green and his fellow spotters in their DPAKs at the front, 10 points for the obligatory 50-ish couple with their daughter and her boyfriend who stood there like they’d secured the best spec on The Mall, oblivious that they were exactly where those about to mosh were about to mosh. 10 points for seeing the husband get miffed when they lose their vantage point after two songs, 10 points for seeing his wife just move forward with the daughter to accept their fate of getting squashed against the barrier by the mosh, while the husband slopes off to the side. 20 points to Carl who grabs my special sartorial taste prize tonight for his Banda Bassotti t-shirt.
Nigel begins by solemly raising his mineral water to “Poly Styrene, ladies and gentlemen.” A huge cheer and many raised glasses. “And, lest we forget… ” Straight into a tribute to another recent departure with the brilliant opening delivery: Fuckin’ ‘ell, it’s Fred Titmus.
“This is about my last holidays.” San Antonio Foam Party. ‘Kinell, it must be about 8 years since Nigel had a holiday then. And yes, the next song is Asparagus Next Left. 6 years I’ve been waiting to hear this live, having missed its debut earlier this year in Sheffield, so way-hey, let’s kick off the mosh. After Asparagus, there are protests about the volume, especially on Ken’s guitar, and it all gets even better.
The comments in Ken’s direction prompt Nigel to tell an anecdote about that afternoon’s incident in one of Leicester’s parks in which Ken had become involved in a bitter dispute with an un-named interlocutor about whether and how much salt to have on a boiled egg. Amazing to see it all get so unexpectedly heated on a topic I’m not really bothered about meself, says Nigel, although “I know that salt’s the silent killer and all that. I took the opportunity to slope off to the Gas Museum meself,” he says. “Perhaps quite appropriately.”
Then Petty Sessions and Running Order Squabble Fest. Best dropped in nice and early on the set list to get the whole audience chanting along. Relaxes everybody, you see. After these, Nigel informs us that Ken’s great uncle was the first man in Colwyn Bay to eat a waffle. Huge cheers from the audience. And that Ken was held up on his way this morning when he had a load of plasticene dumped outside his house. “He didn’t know what to make of it”. Huge groans.
Next Bob Wilson Anchorman, the version with Stevenson and Faraday reversed again, and Left Lyrics. Which is about “leaving your lyrics in the practice room sort of thing”. Ken with foot up on monitor during Black Sabbath solo, absolutely lapping it up. As are we. I’m fairly sure Nigel tells Chris in this version to “fuck off, you’re from Ilfracombe!” and is tonight’s lyric “Doctor Desperate I presume, you left these in the waiting room” the same as the 6Music version? I can’t remember.
Nigel points out that now that the PA has been turned up, there’s a buzzing noise. He warns that if it’s left on he’ll have to try playing ‘Final Solution’ by Pere Ubu, and nobody would want that, so Neil immediately fixes it by turning the buzzing noise off at amp level. Somebody says it sounded like a bee, and Nigel tells us “I got stung by a bee yesterday. £3 for a jar of honey.”
Somebody asks Nigel where he’ll be “watching the wedding”. As if. The frontman at first pretends he hardly knows what they’re talking about, and then snarls “up Moel Siabod.” Then he changes his mind to “Carnedd Llywelyn” There might still be snow up there.
Deep House Victims Minibus Appeal is a very pleasant inclusion, though hard to mosh to. Trumpton riots isn’t. I mean it isn’t hard to mosh to, and the rumbustuous group swells to over a dozen. Pity Mrs Exford is driving so she’s not in the mood to join in. Never the same without Maud. Nigel mentions that he was disappointed when Leicester’s own Mark Selby was knocked out of the world snooker , cos he’d wanted him to win. Somebody asks whether the lads have been to pay tribute at Gary Lineker’s parents’ fruit and veg stall, just outside the venue. “Oh yes,” says Nigel “We did. Perhaps we should have stayed there really, what with all the egg controversy later on in the park.”
“This is a song about getting a Bad Review.” Then “this one’s about tomorrow.” National Shite Day. Then Light at the End of the Tunnel. The mention of Matlock Bath triggers one veteran fan at the front to blurt out between songs that “I’m going train-spotting in Matlock Bath this weekend,” as if expecting a medal. Much mirth in the auditorium. Nigel tells us he knows that train-spotters have a negative image, and he’s never done it himself but he can see that in another life (possibly one in which he never learned to play guitar), that could have been him. “He’s doing it so you don’t have to,” shouts his mate. Possibly it’s the normally reserved Roger Green.
“Anyway, here’s a complete change in mood.” Lark Descending. Then two all-time favourites of mine – a brilliant, driving crescendo to Surging Out of Convalescence and a wonderful, bouncing-up-and-down-thing rendition of A Lilac Harry Quinn. And, talking of bikes, it almost certainly wasn’t at this point of the gig that somebody asked Nigel if he could “re-construct Pink Floyd’s ‘The Wall’ with those breezeblocks.” Sure enough our attention is drawn to several breeze blocks down at the side of the stage. “I’d love to, but I’ve never seen it.” says Nigel “I’m the sort of person who’ll tell you he only likes their early stuff, you know like (strums and sings) I’ve got a bike/you can ride it if you like/It’s a Trek entry level 1.5 (1.2?)/ (speaks) it’s only a double, but it gets me up the hills, not a triple like some people (gestures subtly towards Neil).”
Then 99% of Gargoyles, and then Tommy Walsh’s Eco House, in which the word which I know to be “laurel” in the line “she hangs about the laurel walk, I don’t know what to say to her” is enunciated slightly more bi-syllabically than usual.
Someone at the front asks Nigel if he’d heard this week’s mention of HMHB on Eastenders, which triggers a stream of associated thoughts from our frontman. Something like: “Yeah, we heard about that. We’ve got the set now. Except Emmerdale, we haven’t been mentioned on that. I used to watch Emmerdale Farm till half of them died in that plane crash. I still watch The Street of course. Basically I just watch it now for Norris and his friend. What’s his friend called? Not Luanne ? It’s Mary, yeah she’s my pin-up at the moment, great she is, no Luanne’s from King of the Hill isn’t she? Peggy from that is Ken’s pin-up. Looks like Sarah Palin. Anyway, what am I going on about…?” I couldn’t help noticing that during this monologue members of the band’s immediate entourage appeared so disappointed with Nigel that they walked off back into the “green room area”.
The climax of the next song, All I want for Xmas is a DPAK, sees a veteran Biscuiteer at the front hoisting himself up onto the crowd barriers, turning round and kissing the badge on his shirt in front of the whole crowd! Oh dear, is his agent about to request a transfer? No worries, it’s only the trainspotter fella, so he escapes a caution for that. And I now realise it was probably the combination of the trainspotter fella and the motorway signs that made me do all the tedious self-indulgent waffle about the I-Spy books and the points. Sorry about that.
After Joy Division Oven Gloves there is banter between Nigel and Neil which prompts Neil to do one of his Joy Div basslines or something, and Nigel informs us that in his younger days Neil was in a tribute band who did pop versions of post-punk classics called… Boy Division. Actually the only part of that which Nigel actually said were the words “tribute band” and “Boy Division.” I didn’t catch the rest, but it might have been something along those lines. Shit, bang goes my Pullitzer Prize. Again.
Next come For What is Chatteris, the eternally majestic Evening of Swing and Vatican Broadside. Some banter about this week’s achievement of mathematical safety from a fellow Tranmere fan in the audience, and Nigel admits that he’s damned if he knows where Rovers’ recent run of goalscoring form has suddenly come from. Somehow he starts talking about his granddad, a Rovers fan who was a very kind man, he says. “Gave all his money to sick animals.” But he “didn’t know they were sick when he backed them, mind.”
Hat-trick! This is the first time I’ve ever remembered as many as _three_ actual Blackwell jokes for longer than three minutes after he told them, never mind in these tedious reviews . And if they aren’t working for you, well I can only assure you that if they don’t work here in Cringe-along-a-Charlie they sure do work in Sing-along-a-Nige.
[Talking of Tranmere, at some point late in the gig, Nigel sings a spontaneous ditty about Prenton’s Halfway House pub, to the tune of Jesus Christ Superstar, I am informed. We had better not print what he said, or else lawyers may get involved. Letters Sent. Sirens. Police cars. Super-injunctions. ]
Meanwhile, with so much new material being worked up back on the Wirral and songs like ‘Asparagus’ entering the set list for the first time recently, it’s perhaps not surprising that Nigel doesn’t necessarily have time to prepare new ideas for the likes of 24HGP, Paintball or even Mountain Bikes, which have often been absent from recent setlists. Lyrical improvisation tonight is largely confined to “A Country Practice”, in which amongst a few other targets, scorn is heaped upon Matt Dawson for shouting “Get in there my son!” on A Question of Sport, upon Adrain/Sophie for saying all the usual stuff plus beginning every sentence with “Mate” and saying “Not a problem”, plus a myriad of other linguistic crimes. Today’s opinionated weather forecaster has said “It’s going to be a miserable day _tomorrow_ (miserable for whom?)…oh what a pity… never mind, it’s good for the weeds.”
We Built this Village is the brilliant set closer, then rehydration, urination for the nation, and, as the assembled townspeople wave pitchforks and threaten to burn the auditorium down, three encore songs.
Between Them’s the Vagaries and a moshpit overcoming its exhaustion to put up its imaginary tennis rackets and fling itself around for AOR, a very special cover version is introduced with “Despite failing the audition for lookalikes for this band (you should get that entourage on stage, Nigel), we’re going to do it anyway”. You can find the ensuing and very wonderful version of Blondie’s classic ‘Dreaming’ on Youtube, featuring a topical lyric adaptation about the domestic boredom of the latest bashful nauseant: “I don’t want to live on Anglesey.” Tremendous stuff.
There is plenty, even this weekend, to keep us sane amidst the madness and the national shite.
2 May 2011
Chris The Siteowner
Can I be the first to say “wow”? And “thanks”.
2 May 2011
S.G.D A SHROPSHIRE LAD
I so want an I-Spy Half Man Half Biscuit Connections book.
2 May 2011
MANNIC
Nigel mentioned that Ken’s great-uncle was the first man in Colwyn Bay to eat a waffle.
This then reminded me that my great-uncle’s name is Ken Hancock (true story).
Was bursting to tell someone this, then came across your site.
2 May 2011
Outa_Spaceman Being: 53
I’ve posted a review (c/w videos) of the Leicester gig here:
http://outaspaceman.blogspot.com/2011/05/leicester-bangs-half-man-half-biscuit.html
Hope this helps.
OSM B:53
3 May 2011
Mr Larrington
The A47 goes through Leicester. Just sayin’
3 May 2011
Charles Exford
Kid Spoons on the Yahoo mailing list is of course right when he says NB57 must have been thinking of the synth drone at the beginning of Pere Ubu’s classic ‘Non-Alignment Pact’ rather than their ‘Final Solution’.
While we’re on Pere Ubu, listen to their ‘Cloud 149’ and tell me it’s not the hugest influence on the early Biscuit sound, as their stuff was on loads of post-punk acts.
Which brings us back of course to that intriguing “Behemoth/seven score and nine” line off ‘Evening of Swing’.
9 May 2011
Chris The Siteowner
Decent recording of the gig at Tarquin Live! here along with many others dating back to 1998.
(And information about converting FLAC files to MP3s can be found here)
16 June 2011
Treadmore
torrent of the recording ^ tracked into songs here:
http://tasty.freshbrains.org/
30 July 2011
micky (the hoss)
Auditorium in the Market place Leicester has closed, shame, Another one bites the dust, No Charlotte now this even though it was a bit basic small venues in Leicester are now all but gone
21 September 2011