A rare visit to a part of the world almost as untouched by HMHB’s gigs as it is by the band’s geographical references. What did you think?
(Reviews only, please. Go to this page for pre-gig banter)
A rare visit to a part of the world almost as untouched by HMHB’s gigs as it is by the band’s geographical references. What did you think?
(Reviews only, please. Go to this page for pre-gig banter)
argieuk
Good gig- more details from others later, hopefully. However no price for the Pringles as out of stock. Monster Munch was the replacement choice
26 November 2010
2CHEVRONS
My first HMHB gig and it was cracking. It seemed pretty busy, so hopefully most people made it there through the snow.
Fantastic versions of National Shite Day, Bob Wilson and Trumpton Riots as well as The Who’s ‘I’m a Boy’.
Sound was a little patchy at times. Nigel informed us that the band had gone to Diggerland but it was shut, so they went to Hardwick Hall ‘take your own tea bags’. Breaking news … Pickled Onion is the only flavour of Monster Munch to buy (more sound HMHB advice).
A great night. Newcastle next time please (To avoid a repeat of the Diggerland experience, the lads could try the Discovery Museum. It has free entry and does a good cup of tea – not sure about Pringles though)
26 November 2010
ds
Cracking gig – first time seeing the band since 1991 (at Sunderland Poly – see, back when there still WERE polys!)
Vocals were a touch muddy for us standing behind the mixing desk, and clearly there were issues with monitors and such but overall it was a great gig. Made up that they opened with my one of my fave songs ever: Bob Todd. Shite Day, Garage People and Country Practice were, as ever, wonderful. Pity I didn’t get to the front. I could’ve brought a power drill and asked for Mars Ultras, “Yeah, that’s one of ours”. And with him all the way on Pickled Onion Monster Munch. Came with an HMHB vigin and who fan who was pleasantly surprised by I’m A Boy
Maybe they could do Stockton again (they played the erstwhile Dovecot Arts Centre back in 85 – a gig I never saw) – they could take in the the delights of Preston Park Museum
Wonder what Nigel was thinking when he got to Scotch Corner last night?
26 November 2010
ds
Actually, I thought I’d share the broader themes of the evening for me as well: it is relevant. Also notice blog title
http://mantrafilledoompah.blogspot.com/2010/11/curse-of-half-man-half-biscuit.html
26 November 2010
Charles Exford
I’m guessing the band would have passed Scotch Corner about 25 minutes after us and there was just a sprinkling of the morning’s snow on the verges & fields from thereon southwards. But if watching the road signs, and why wouldn’t he be, NB57 would surely have delighted in 3 “Soft Verges” signs lining the roadworks. I recall these because that very track randomly came up in the car as we passed them.
Mrs.Exford and I made up a great set-list on the way back of “songs that alas we are 100% certain we’ll never hear them play live”, and Verges was way up there alongside such delights as Argos and of course Asparagus.
It seemed to me there was loads of typical UK drama queen stuff going on about the weather yesterday, even on this site, with talk of 6 foot of snow in Durham. The most we saw piled up when we got there or anywhere en route was 6mm…. “would the gig be on or not?” some were asking but the roads from Leeds (and I’m told from Birkenhead) all the way to Durham were just normal. But then I read your blog Darren, and realised that for some of you in the NE the picture was different.
Mid-gig one of the Merseyside contingent I think it was who heckled Nigel about the Holmfirth sketch. Why gig there in December when, gasp, IT MIGHT BE SNOWING IN THE PENNINES?? “Think of it as expedition” Nigel said, pointing towards his T-shirt which bore a dramatic image of Shackleton’s Endurance trapped in the pack ice. “Take some pemmican instead of sandwiches.”
More will follow if Roger’s set-list triggers memories of more than pickled onion monster munch. I was forced to play rugby from the ages of 11 to 13. Hence the delayed postconcussion syndrome, leading to constant fatigue, impaired concentration and stupid amnesia.
26 November 2010
Vendor of Quack Nostrums
Although Mrs Vendor’s hair can in no way be described as being maroon, she was setting up a cross-stitch exhibition at Brancepeth Castle, so I was duly dropped off in the centre of Durham early doors. Plenty of time then for a few pints and a pizza at the Head of Steam – both of the highest quality. The DogKnobbler slipped down a treat; it was almost like being back in the Boathouse at Wylam.
Quiet accurately describes the pub at 6.30 so I was reduced to reading last weeks Durham Times. My eye was caught by the headline ‘Lollipop man injured in attack by gang of children’, complete with photo of a 20 year old, black eyed Lollipop man who had been set upon by the delightful youths who he was employed to see safely across the road. Unfortunately he was called Anthony rather than Darren, but Hay Ho. The only other thing in the Durham Times that caught my eye was 3 large adverts for B & Bs in Ambleside, so I moved onto a publication called Narc. Reading this I learned that Courtney Love recently acknowledged Viv Albertine’s place in the riot grrrl Hall of Fame by ‘establishing a place for women in the punk scene way before ‘girl’ became ‘grrrl’’. It also contained a full page interview with Howard Marks which I tried to read twice but lost the will to live on each occasion. A quick skim did reveal however that the 18-25 dope smoking community really love him and he still wants to be a rock star. Umm really.
And so to the gig – after a quick trip to the Head of Steam toilets where a picture of a parrot caught my eye. An entry to the pub’s ‘Best colouring in wins a free kids meal’ promotion, it purported to be by a Nigel, aged 47, from Prenton, Wirral. A likely story, but it was well coloured in mind.
On the bleakest day autumn could muster, in a venue to which they’ll not return, our heroes appeared and played a storming set. By my recollection the setlist (which I’ve typed out) was;
99% of Gargoyles
Yipps
Light at the end of the Tunnel
Petty Sessions
Pancake Day
Bob Wilson
Lilac Harry Quinn (During which Nigel re-tied his shoelace, I’ve never seen that before from a lead singer)
Bad Losers
Look Dad No Tunes
Lock up your Mountain Bikes
Running Order Squabblefest
Trad Arr Tunes
Dukla Prague Away Kit
Left Lyrics in the Practice Room (Now changed to ‘Your jaw juts out like Mart Poom’ with a suitable gap inserted)
Vatican Broadside
National Shite Day
24 Hour Garage People (No Pringles and the sandwich choice appeared to include Monster Munch and Celery).
Everything’s AOR
Secret Gig
Chatteris
1966 and all that
Tommy Walsh’s Eco House
Trumpton Riots
A Country Practice (I quite like a bit of snow, so stick to the facts)
Evening of Swing
I’m a Boy
Oven Gloves
As I say a storming set, but somewhat tempered by the terrible sound. Genius deserves better. An encouraging turnout although the crowd were a little reserved. Still hopefully reason enough for the Lads to revisit the North East before too long. Next time perhaps in Summer then Diggerland will definitely be open.
26 November 2010
Germ
Although the mosh pit was more of a mosh open-cast, those with the energy to mosh did so with scant regard for age or infirmity.
Yes,sadly, the sound was a little poor but I think we all knew the words enough to have sung along even if the band had just been mouthing the words…which they patently weren’t.
My HMHB virginity was happily surrendered and hopefully It’ll not be too long before I can do it again.
Met some good HMHB fans in the head of steam both before and after the gig and can highly recommend the dog nobbler pale ale but enjoyed the bitter and twisted much less.
Snow was falling quite heavily as we were ceremoniously chucked out and then I had to brave the wallet wrenching of a £30 taxi fare home.Still,who can grumble about cash when it’s been so well spent on a fantastic evening of swing.
26 November 2010
Toerag
Was watching local news, pre gig, in hotel and witnessed intrepid reporter covering the inclement weather asking a man from the gritting depot if he had had problems getting to work.
Ah: the questions that lurk!
26 November 2010
The Yakker
I’m still really hacked off now as I didn’t make it to the gig due to the worst driving conditions in the history of the world. Tried around 73 different ways to get out of Seaham, all of which were uphill and covered in sheet ice.
How do the road gritters get to work? They simply don’t bother round these parts……..
27 November 2010
David Jameson
Hi all,
I’ve penned something of a gig/band review after seeing the lads in Durham: http://newcastledavey.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-was-teenage-hmhb-fan-half-man-half.html
Comments welcome. Far from being an HMHB trainspotter, I do love their stuff and felt quite privileged to finally see them live!
best,
Dave
29 November 2010
Charles Exford
Quality review that Davey (mine will follow later today), and looks like a quality footy blog too. I might be up your way for Whitley Bay v. AFCL on Saturday, and I notice your blog promises a report on that one too. Check out my report on AFCL’s match in the last round – it’s the last post on my new blog at
http://nigewritesfootball.wordpress.com
(I’ve only just started the blog a few weeks ago though I’m collecting lots of my footy reports from elsewhere and posting them up back-dated. Still loads and loads of adventures to put up).
There’s nowt on there about HMHB yet but (just to keep this slightly on-topic) doubtless there will be very soon, like I might put the final version of my “footy songs in HMHB” article up there soon (liking the way you’re getting HMHB quotes in your other stories by the way Davey).
29 November 2010
gNick
Grand gig I thought, the sound aside.
Talked to Geoff earlier and he was decidedly hacked off the the ‘sound man’. Since I live in Durham (actually on the outskirts in the sweetly named Pity Me) and spend altogether too many evenings spoiling open mic sessions in Durham I will attempt to find the aforementioned ‘sound man’ and point out that listening to what the band say about what comes out of the PA and adjusting to suit is what their ****ing job is all about.
Incidentally Geoff also mentioned that they had difficulty getting any of the other venues in the area interested. They did look at the Cluny but it is a bit too small, though the sound would probably have been better…
Had a minor PBR the morning after the gig, walking the dog past the local Homebase and there was an Eddie Stobart truck called Doreen. Quite rounded off the whole experience!
29 November 2010
Charles Exford
[one of my longer ones, so please jump to the bit after the row of asterisks if you don’t want stuff about the journey, the weather and a few classic pints of Spennymoor’s Old Hogwobbler]
Last train back 22:58, which could have meant missing the encore songs. So Mrs Exford insisted on driving the 170-mile round trip despite illness, thus gaining much credit in her account at the National Bank of Relationships. There’d been slight concern earlier on, when the north-eastern Biscuiteers were posting online that they’d been ringing the venue to see if the gig was still on. There was 6 foot of snow up there, they said, and driving was difficult. So I must say we were cynical and a touch sceptical, respectively, when we arrived without seeing more than 6 millimeters anywhere en route from Leeds to Durham City Centre. The road-gritters had definitely got to work somehow before the snowfall and not even left many slippy pavements, indicating that Durham City Council aren’t worried about running short of grit this winter. It was only during the gig itself, looking at how un-sardine-like things were in the supposedly nearly sold-out auditorium, that we realised lots of punters hadn’t been able to make the gig, even some who lived within about 12 miles we later read (on here). “Stay away from the minor roads” has always been my motto. And certainly never live on one.
The Head of Steam opposite the venue had been recommended. Good job I wasn’t in an “anything under 5%” mood because they didn’t have anything over 3.9%. Or less than 3.8% for that matter. From this vast range of potency, the one on the right was the best.
Relieving myself mightily after our drive, I couldn’t help overhearing that at the table nearest the door of the gents, the mighty Geoff Davies of Probe Records was involved in some sort of interview about the old punk days at the Probe shop in Liverpool. Seemed to be more of an author-type interview than a local newspaper hack that was grilling him, not that I was eavesdropping mind, oh no. On the wall beside them, a display of photos from “Live Aid” 1985 was there for no apparent reason, and I commented about the disparity of musical subject matter, then got freaked out ‘cos Mrs Exford was three years old at the time and had very little idea who played at Live Aid. To be fair her lack of interest was well justified. She had meanwhile chosen the adjacent table and pointed out a colouring-in competition that offered “a free kid’s meal” as the prize. We had loads of time to kill, and Mrs. E’s only other suggestion was to go back to the outdoor gear shop we’d passed which was open till 8pm for pre-Xmas Thursday evening opening. So, given her credit at the NBR, I hope that explains why colouring-in was a relatively attractive option! We chose the parrot picture because they didn’t have an Ian Curtis portrait. The rest of the crayons and competition sheets were immediately confiscated from the shelf behind us with a loud tutting (which we pretended not to hear) from the pub’s duty manager, who then reprimanded the barperson for not removing these items at the appointed hour before the evening’s students and assorted other literal-minded misfits entered the premises. We carried on colouring anyway, and deprived so cruelly by the authorities both of the brown crayon we needed for the tree and of any prospect of the free meal prize, we made a lovely mess mixing all the other colours together.
On the way over to the gig we bumped into Dunfermline Paul at the cashpoint. Great to see a man who said he’d see us on the road again when his new bairn was half grown up, but already seen at two recent HMHB gigs within little Stan’s first year or so of life. So it was back to The Head of Steam with Paul, where we drank a toast to our understanding, HMHB-loving partners, and only on to the Live Lounge with perfect timing to hear just enough of the support band’s final song to know that time spent in the pub had been the wise choice.
[out-takes section: Exford corpses as he realises the review nearly went to press talking about Paul’s “new brain” instead of “new bairn”]
******************
HMHB took to the stage while the sound man was still apparently snoozing along to his favourite prog rock CD, taking him by surprise in their eagerness not to have too late a return journey (more heavy snow forecast for around midnight). The resultant sound mix was, for the first few tracks, by far the worst ever I’ve heard at my forty-odd HMHB gigs, and the lyrical niceties and banter would have been lost on most punters. Shame because the opening tracks themselves were real classics: “Bob Todd” then “Yipps” should have had the crowd roaring along with the choruses right away, but they didn’t. Every cloud, though … the resulting breaks between songs, while a better sound was gradually negotiated for the band and for the audience, left plenty of space for a Q & A session.
“Are they Neil’s hinges or yours?” enquires a punter at the front about some large, errm, hinges and screws that were sitting randomly on the edge of the stage near the bassist. Nigel refrains from suggesting that either Neil or his interlocutor were in any way “unhinged”, and merely told him to ignore them or the gig would probably get called off by health & safety.
“What’s the ship?” I shout, fairly sure I know what the ship on Nigel’s t-shirt is, but looking to fill another interlude. And besides, most of the punters may not know. Nigel looks at the floor behind him.
“Not the shit, the ship.” I shout, louder. “The ship on your shirt.”
“Oh, the Endurance. Stuck in the ice on the way to the South Pole. You should read Roland Huntford’s biography of Shackleton. I nearly cried at the bit when the ship was being crushed.”
It’s been pointed out (by Prof. Ricardo on this site) that the said biography has actually been the source of at least one HMHB lyric, so I did buy it a while back. I promise Nigel I’ll read it soon. I refrain from asking him what he thought of Kenneth Branagh as Shackleton in the TV epic.
Much later in the gig one of the moshers, the most drunken in fact, cross-examines Nigel about the wisdom of having a gig in the Pennine town of Holmfirth in mid-December. “Why ?” asks Blackwell.
“It’ll probably be effing (the mashed-up mosher struggles to remember the word for the powdery white stuff)… snowing everywhere”, he slurs.
“Treat it as an expedition” advises Nigel patiently, gesturing towards the t-shirt. “Take some pemmican instead of sandwiches.”
“Have you seen the new fragrance for men from Calvin Klein [or some such brand]?” asks Nigel.
“It’s called Breadcrumbs. ….. The birds love it.”
Then “I’m here all week, you know. No seriously, with the way that van is, and the weather forecast, I’ll be here all week ….”
Another reason for the early start may have been that Nigel wants to get home for another Ashes all-nighter. He tells us, after “Petty Sessions” ends with its customary slaughter of the Barmy Army buffoons, that apart from the twits who follow Ingerlund he’s also been vexed about the English commentators’ insistence on pronouncing the Aussie hat-trick hero as “Siddall” rather than Siddle (rhymes with “fiddle”, “piddle” & “widdle” for all you cricket poets out there, but it’s only the 3rd or 4th hat-trick against England in a century so I’d go for “Aussie idyll” myself ). Nigel lists some Ashes-themed pop platters that somebody should make a compilation of, but I can’t remember any of his short-list, so never mind. Actually he couldn’t remember many, either.
“Mountain Bikes” ends with the remake of the Wicker Man verse.
“That’s when I first said,
That’s when I first said,
A re-make of the Wicker man would never work.” And then some words of quiet desperation about the casting of Nicholas Cage.
Great to hear the “Foot up in Europe” wedding anthem get an outing too (though we didn’t get the whole Tallis-inspired track, obviously).
And so to the 24-hour garage in search of Pringles. But there are no Pringles ! Nor is there any reading material, any Ipod, any games, any mug or any t-shirt for the poor Shell assistant. It’s a new regime down at the filling station, obviously, though if anything its made Graeme’s demeanour worse (in case you didn’t know, that was his name at the Bilston gig so I’m sticking to it). The only savoury snack he’s got is Monster Munch at 67p, and Graeme only admits this, reluctantly, because they are clearly on display behind him. And the sandwiches also include “Monster Munch and celery”. Yum.
Graeme points out that there’s a big queue behind our hero, and the people might be getting impatient, but Nigel proves him wrong on both counts by telling him that it’s a sponsored conga and his friends have been sponsored by the hour to be there all night, whether in search of balsamic vinegar (also clearly on display) or confused and traumatised by the Snickers Conspiracy. If I am not mistaken “cob” is included in the list of possible forms of address. More Ashes-down-under-inspired vocabulary perhaps ?
The last gig in Preston saw a dearth of geographical titbits between songs. Tonight we returned to an almost-but-not-quite-average place-name count. I can’t remember if was in Hoylake or Meols where some sort of flower gardens or flower club was recommended at only 85p. I think I recall that both of these Wirral dormitory towns were mentioned at some point. And the band had supposedly stopped at Hardwick Hall on the way to the gig. On the way to Durham ? Don’t be daft ! But then he told us they went there because Diggerland near the M62/A1 junction had been closed for the winter (Nigel reckons snowy weather is when it might be best enjoyed), so you never know what unwise half-day detours they may have made in the ensuing despair.
Blackwell goes out of tune slightly on one string, and Ken points it out. “You can talk” says Nigel, reluctantly tuning up with a bar or two of the “House of the Rising Sun” intro, and kind of thereby inadvertently revealing the tune that was perhaps, allegedly, the original inspiration for the wondrous song that followed: “1966 and All that”.
Compared to Preston, there aren’t quite as many lyrical innovations during the epic that is “A Country practice”, But we do get “I quite like a bit of snowy weather so stick to the facts…though whether I’ll still think that at 1 a.m. at Scotch Corner is another matter.” We also get a tirade against “creeping Americanisms” such as “Can I get a pint of lager ?” Nigel takes the barman’s perspective and says “I’m the barman. I’ll get it and you can pay for it.” He should work in an all-night… no, never mind.
Then he says “and I blame McCall for starting this next one. There’s 5 men and 5 women and she calls them “guys”, like she’s talking to 10 blokes. “What else should you say ? How about Ladies and Gentlemen, for a start ?” Of course, later on in the same song, Adrain/Sophie says “guys” and “can I get a pint of lager?” on top of his usual nonsense.
The song ends dramatically. The final “Old lady, you labelled me an idle layabout” is followed by emphatic, angry “And I’m not.” Exit the band for two minutes, to much a-whoopin’ and a hollerin’.
After the first encore, the majestic towering peak of “Evening of Swing”, and with just two tracks remaining of the twenty-seven, Ken is still complaining that he can’t hear Neil on his monitor. Or maybe it was the other way round, but either way, a sign that this “sound man” was in fact the least sound man you’ll ever meet and if you do meet him again in one of Durham’s thoroughfares, well, be sure to have a word chaps. “It’s OK but the novelty wears off after while,” Nigel seems to mumble. At first we think he’s still talking about being able to hear Neil in your monitor, but as he puts down the caravan guitar we realise he was probably talking about his instrument.
It’s hard to tell if any monitor problems had been ironed out because the next track was a rumbustuously rough-and-ready cover of “a song that these two always want to do and I don’t”. For a moment there I almost thought he was talking about giving a long-dreamt-of live debut to “Asparagus”, but it turns out to be the Who’s “I’m a Boy”, all punkered-up. The gig ends with a belting “JDOG”, and our daft little mosh goes into double figures for the first and only time this evening. Hallelujah !
See you in the pack ice somewhere on the glacier approaching Holmfirth. Bovril pemmican all round.
29 November 2010
Vendor of Quack Nostrums
@ Exxo.
Thanks for solving the Mystery of the Toilet Parrot. The lack of brown aside, I feel it was well worth a free kids meal.
More seriously, thanks for your description of the various asides and shout outs. From my vantage point near the staircase I picked up very few of them, or worse, half heard them and my DogKnobblered bairn filled in the gaps inaccurately. I did get Monster Munch and Celery right though. I am becoming increasingly bitter and twisted at the poor sound quality, there really is no excuse. I didn’t pay £17.50 to mis-hear witty banter etc etc. If there is a debate about correct Australian cricket pronunciation, I want to be in on it.
By the way I feel I must draw attention to my own deliberate mistake. I wouldn’t normally but DogKnobblered bairn should of course be DogKnobblered brain. Don’t want anyone thinking I had a drunken child there to explain that which I couldn’t hear.
@Gnick
I’ve suggested The Cluny before. If it’s good enough for The New York Dolls…….(3 nights there last August). And the sound quality is excellent. Cosy rather than small I think.
30 November 2010
Ben
just as a final nail in this one – I was appalled to hear that the Live Lounge has shut down. The curse of HMHB strikes again.
15 November 2012