Fast forwarding a few months and i was again off to Manchester, on a Rock N Roll Thursday no less, and with PJ winning the Mercury Music Prize a few days prior it really was timed well. As usual, the Metro journey from Shields to Central was an absolute treat - the clear winner in the wacky stakes this time was a girl who had applied so much fake tan, it made her look like a Minstrel blackening up. A proper inappropriate Spike Milligan case but with permanent marker for eyebrows and extra fake tan on those crafty dry elbows completing the look. Baffling. It's stuff like this that makes me feel like i'm detached from mass society these days, i just can't believe i'm the same species as these awful fucking people. Anyway, Stev and his surprising spectacles were waiting on arrival at Central and we quickly 'lined our stomachs' with Subways before heading to the train.
I'm not a fan of trains, they're overpriced, the service is generally poor and they are always policed by dick heads. So having said all that, it's annoying that we can't really blame anyone but ourselves for missing our train - we assumed the one waiting and signposted Manchester Airport was ours, but when it didn't move come 12:17, it was obvious we were mistaken and there must have been another one on a different platform. Further investigation showed that the current train was leaving at 13:15, so it wasn't all bad, but we now had the problem of having tickets for the wrong train. This wasn't a new problem to me, I'd previously been thrown off a train for the very same thing a few years back. That time I exclaimed to the attendant that he was a little Hitler better suited to 'attending parks and telling kids to stay off the grass' and swore I'd get to London without a ticket. And thanks to some tips picked up from Russell Brand's first Booky Wook and few other brazen tactics, that's just what happened. T'was an incredibly small yet fulfilling victory. Thankfully, all that nonsense wasn't needed this time and we quickly sailed through to Manchester. Of course, there was still time to meet another arsehole ticket attendant when leaving the station, with him shouting 'AYE, I NEED TO ACTUALLY LOOK AT THE TICKET' at me, just as hundreds of people streamed past without doing the same. I must just have one of those faces or something.
We'd booked into a Travelodge and at £25, i wasn't expecting much,but it turned out to be the best place i've ever booked into in all my time travelling to be honest. Clean, quiet and it especially had amazing customer service in the sense i didn't have to speak to anyone at all to check in, and i just got my keycard from a machine. Amazing. I've endured far too much time in my life listening to people on receptions horrifically trying to have a craic on with you when all you want to do is leave and get pissed somewhere. Time was on the short side so we quickly dropped our bags and then headed out to find a bar.
I've only been to Manchester twice so i'm still not overtly familiar with it's areas and bars, so we decided it was best to just play it safe and head to the Northern Quarter where i'd went back in June. and had a rather nice time. Trof had a more of a 'few drinks with work colleagues' type vibe than last time and there wasn't much going on really with the glaring the exception of one peculiar man and woman having a drink - she was a attractive 20 something, cool business fashionista type and he looked like a 50 year old cavalier, even down to the moustache. Weirder still was that she was the one driving the conversation and he was just sitting there, i'd at least expected him to have a Rik Mayall in Blackadder thing going on but he was a near mute. I really wanted to go up and ask what the nature of their relationship, it was freaking me and Stev out that much but you just can't be doing that shit. A quick perusal of google maps showed we were about 30 mins away from the venue so we stayed for just one and then headed off. It's worth noting that i've finally worked out how to get the compass on my iPhone so they'll hopefully no more tales of getting lost in it's abyss for hours but this trip did show how ridiculously reliant i've become on my smartphone though - i stored a load of post codes in Evernote and then had maps on constantly to get from one place to the next and would be fucked if i hadn't
We got to the Manchester Apollo for about 7:20 and PJ was on at 8:30 so not too bad a turnaround. One major plus was that they'd be no support act, some will disagree but i absolutely loath them. All they achieve is making me bored before the person i'm paying to see comes on but i suppose i do appreciate their need and they're a good way for bands to 'pay their dues' in a way, getting used to performing in front of a live audience and expanding their fan base. I just don't want me to be in that crowd. The venue itself was lovely - perfect size, the best sound you could imagine in a live setting and getting a drink wasn't too bad a chore either. Only the Horden Pavillion in Sydney springs to mind in comparison really. The crowd was a bit of an older audience than your typical Academy gig, giving it a much better and respectful atmosphere than i've become accustomed to in recent years (there was no pints getting launched here), but of course we did meet the one buffoon there as standard. I came back from the bar and this sweaty 50 year old man was falling all over the shop. I had been leaning against a bar quite comfortably but he insisted on trying to push me out of the way to get in, i refused of course until his friend pathetically apologised for him saying he was 'a few ales ahead of us' and he was going to fall over. Aye mate, more like a few fucking kegs ahead. Even with having that to rest on, he still couldn't hold himself up though and comically fell flat on his face at one point. I should also menton the man wearing an early 2000's era Alfie Atkinson style flamboyant shirt, which was incredibly distracting to us all.
Just before PJ came on we got to discussing Adele playing the same venue the week after and her appearance on Jonathan Ross the weekend before. Stev had possibly the best comparison of her i'd ever heard 'She's basically like a female Frank Spencer......but with blowjob lips'. Very true, very true.
The gig itself was absolutely stunning - the stage set up was very understated, the lighting sparse yet theatrical with just a few bellows of smoke as effects. PJ herself looked as stunning as she sounded and the band were incredibly tight too - John Parish didn't even unnerve me as much as usual and Mick Harvey's presence is always appreciated in any band line up . The set started off with Let England Shake and then just seamlessly segued from one amazing track to the next until the end. I never realised how tiny PJ was until she picked up for the guitar for a few tracks and it almost hid her from sight. She didn't speak at all till the end but still oozed more charisma than most of the other show ponys doing the rounds these days and i can't reiterate enough how good her voice was. Highlights for me were probably The Words that Maketh Murder, England and Silence but i could pick any track at random to be honest. The only slight disappointment was both Me and Stev wanted her to come back out for the encore in her Stories from The City attire, complete with 'sexy boots' and then go straight into Good Fortune but that wouldn't have exactly fit in with it all. Still would have been amazing though. A pretty much perfect gig. People need to stop whooping at gigs though. It's not big, and it's not clever.
SET LIST
After the gig we headed straight to a nearby bar and a club called 5th avenue. The bar had a lovely scam going with '3 pint vodka energy jugs' that could have only had 4 ml of Vodka in them. The energy drink must have been from B& M's too as it only succeeded in burning my stomach and making us slightly ill before being even drunk. 5th Avenue was an experience too. It was possibly the busiest place i've ever been too and can only be described as a mix of Digital in Newcastle and Escape from Shields back in the day. The clientele was a mixture of all sorts - indie kids, charvers, wag types and the doorman probably the most agressive i've ever seen. They were storming all over in hi vis jackets throwing people out and one even grabbed me for going to the toilet with a drink, apparently a major no-no in Mancunia. After a few trebles we had the pleasure of meeting the token weirdo of the club again, i'm not sure what he was trying to tell us but Stev made it good call in saying he was probably autistic. Something was definitely amiss, although i do always appreciate a drunk who strikes up a conversion by a apologising for being a state of a person.
After that we headed back to the Travelodge and for some food enroute, which was quite the hard task actually but we eventually found something right next to where we were staying. Not that i had the chance to enjoy it as for the first time in my life i got a hangover on the night i was out. It was pretty horrific too puking all over with Stev soon following but at least we were fine for the journey home again the next day. A pretty uneventful return really but we did somehow manage to nearly miss our train again. We had decided to to get to the platform early to avoid any repeat mishaps but started feeling something was again amiss when the train wasn't opening up. Thankfully, we investigated in time this occasion ad discovered there was another train behind the one we were staring at. Oh dear. It really shouldn't be this hard for two intelligent men to get on transport. Stev did come up with an amazing idea on the way home to resurrect Tom Hanks career from it's his current slump and return to the heights of The 'Burbs - "He needs to remake Big but in reverse, where like old Tom Hanks becomes the younger version' Definitely legs in that one.
So all in all a great little trip and even better gig. I've really grown to like Manchester so my visitis will definitely have to become more fleeting. Tremendous scenes
Song For the Day - Since we missed out on it :
PJ Harvey - Good Fortune
I'm not a fan of trains, they're overpriced, the service is generally poor and they are always policed by dick heads. So having said all that, it's annoying that we can't really blame anyone but ourselves for missing our train - we assumed the one waiting and signposted Manchester Airport was ours, but when it didn't move come 12:17, it was obvious we were mistaken and there must have been another one on a different platform. Further investigation showed that the current train was leaving at 13:15, so it wasn't all bad, but we now had the problem of having tickets for the wrong train. This wasn't a new problem to me, I'd previously been thrown off a train for the very same thing a few years back. That time I exclaimed to the attendant that he was a little Hitler better suited to 'attending parks and telling kids to stay off the grass' and swore I'd get to London without a ticket. And thanks to some tips picked up from Russell Brand's first Booky Wook and few other brazen tactics, that's just what happened. T'was an incredibly small yet fulfilling victory. Thankfully, all that nonsense wasn't needed this time and we quickly sailed through to Manchester. Of course, there was still time to meet another arsehole ticket attendant when leaving the station, with him shouting 'AYE, I NEED TO ACTUALLY LOOK AT THE TICKET' at me, just as hundreds of people streamed past without doing the same. I must just have one of those faces or something.
We'd booked into a Travelodge and at £25, i wasn't expecting much,but it turned out to be the best place i've ever booked into in all my time travelling to be honest. Clean, quiet and it especially had amazing customer service in the sense i didn't have to speak to anyone at all to check in, and i just got my keycard from a machine. Amazing. I've endured far too much time in my life listening to people on receptions horrifically trying to have a craic on with you when all you want to do is leave and get pissed somewhere. Time was on the short side so we quickly dropped our bags and then headed out to find a bar.
I've only been to Manchester twice so i'm still not overtly familiar with it's areas and bars, so we decided it was best to just play it safe and head to the Northern Quarter where i'd went back in June. and had a rather nice time. Trof had a more of a 'few drinks with work colleagues' type vibe than last time and there wasn't much going on really with the glaring the exception of one peculiar man and woman having a drink - she was a attractive 20 something, cool business fashionista type and he looked like a 50 year old cavalier, even down to the moustache. Weirder still was that she was the one driving the conversation and he was just sitting there, i'd at least expected him to have a Rik Mayall in Blackadder thing going on but he was a near mute. I really wanted to go up and ask what the nature of their relationship, it was freaking me and Stev out that much but you just can't be doing that shit. A quick perusal of google maps showed we were about 30 mins away from the venue so we stayed for just one and then headed off. It's worth noting that i've finally worked out how to get the compass on my iPhone so they'll hopefully no more tales of getting lost in it's abyss for hours but this trip did show how ridiculously reliant i've become on my smartphone though - i stored a load of post codes in Evernote and then had maps on constantly to get from one place to the next and would be fucked if i hadn't
We got to the Manchester Apollo for about 7:20 and PJ was on at 8:30 so not too bad a turnaround. One major plus was that they'd be no support act, some will disagree but i absolutely loath them. All they achieve is making me bored before the person i'm paying to see comes on but i suppose i do appreciate their need and they're a good way for bands to 'pay their dues' in a way, getting used to performing in front of a live audience and expanding their fan base. I just don't want me to be in that crowd. The venue itself was lovely - perfect size, the best sound you could imagine in a live setting and getting a drink wasn't too bad a chore either. Only the Horden Pavillion in Sydney springs to mind in comparison really. The crowd was a bit of an older audience than your typical Academy gig, giving it a much better and respectful atmosphere than i've become accustomed to in recent years (there was no pints getting launched here), but of course we did meet the one buffoon there as standard. I came back from the bar and this sweaty 50 year old man was falling all over the shop. I had been leaning against a bar quite comfortably but he insisted on trying to push me out of the way to get in, i refused of course until his friend pathetically apologised for him saying he was 'a few ales ahead of us' and he was going to fall over. Aye mate, more like a few fucking kegs ahead. Even with having that to rest on, he still couldn't hold himself up though and comically fell flat on his face at one point. I should also menton the man wearing an early 2000's era Alfie Atkinson style flamboyant shirt, which was incredibly distracting to us all.
Just before PJ came on we got to discussing Adele playing the same venue the week after and her appearance on Jonathan Ross the weekend before. Stev had possibly the best comparison of her i'd ever heard 'She's basically like a female Frank Spencer......but with blowjob lips'. Very true, very true.
The gig itself was absolutely stunning - the stage set up was very understated, the lighting sparse yet theatrical with just a few bellows of smoke as effects. PJ herself looked as stunning as she sounded and the band were incredibly tight too - John Parish didn't even unnerve me as much as usual and Mick Harvey's presence is always appreciated in any band line up . The set started off with Let England Shake and then just seamlessly segued from one amazing track to the next until the end. I never realised how tiny PJ was until she picked up for the guitar for a few tracks and it almost hid her from sight. She didn't speak at all till the end but still oozed more charisma than most of the other show ponys doing the rounds these days and i can't reiterate enough how good her voice was. Highlights for me were probably The Words that Maketh Murder, England and Silence but i could pick any track at random to be honest. The only slight disappointment was both Me and Stev wanted her to come back out for the encore in her Stories from The City attire, complete with 'sexy boots' and then go straight into Good Fortune but that wouldn't have exactly fit in with it all. Still would have been amazing though. A pretty much perfect gig. People need to stop whooping at gigs though. It's not big, and it's not clever.
SET LIST
- LET ENGLAND SHAKE
- THE WORDS THAT MAKETH MURDER
- ALL AND EVERYONE
- THE BIG GUNS CALLED ME BACK
- WRITTEN ON THE FOREHEAD
- IN THE DARK PLACES
- DEAR DARKNESS
- THE GLORIOUS LAND
- THE LAST LIVING ROSE
- ENGLAND
- THE POCKET KNIFE
- BITTER BRANCHES
- ON BATTLESHIP HILL
- DOWN BY THE WATER
- C’MON BILLY
- HANGING IN THE WIRE
- THE COLOUR OF THE EARTH
ENCORE
- THE PIANO
- ANGELENE
- SILENCE
After the gig we headed straight to a nearby bar and a club called 5th avenue. The bar had a lovely scam going with '3 pint vodka energy jugs' that could have only had 4 ml of Vodka in them. The energy drink must have been from B& M's too as it only succeeded in burning my stomach and making us slightly ill before being even drunk. 5th Avenue was an experience too. It was possibly the busiest place i've ever been too and can only be described as a mix of Digital in Newcastle and Escape from Shields back in the day. The clientele was a mixture of all sorts - indie kids, charvers, wag types and the doorman probably the most agressive i've ever seen. They were storming all over in hi vis jackets throwing people out and one even grabbed me for going to the toilet with a drink, apparently a major no-no in Mancunia. After a few trebles we had the pleasure of meeting the token weirdo of the club again, i'm not sure what he was trying to tell us but Stev made it good call in saying he was probably autistic. Something was definitely amiss, although i do always appreciate a drunk who strikes up a conversion by a apologising for being a state of a person.
After that we headed back to the Travelodge and for some food enroute, which was quite the hard task actually but we eventually found something right next to where we were staying. Not that i had the chance to enjoy it as for the first time in my life i got a hangover on the night i was out. It was pretty horrific too puking all over with Stev soon following but at least we were fine for the journey home again the next day. A pretty uneventful return really but we did somehow manage to nearly miss our train again. We had decided to to get to the platform early to avoid any repeat mishaps but started feeling something was again amiss when the train wasn't opening up. Thankfully, we investigated in time this occasion ad discovered there was another train behind the one we were staring at. Oh dear. It really shouldn't be this hard for two intelligent men to get on transport. Stev did come up with an amazing idea on the way home to resurrect Tom Hanks career from it's his current slump and return to the heights of The 'Burbs - "He needs to remake Big but in reverse, where like old Tom Hanks becomes the younger version' Definitely legs in that one.
So all in all a great little trip and even better gig. I've really grown to like Manchester so my visitis will definitely have to become more fleeting. Tremendous scenes
Song For the Day - Since we missed out on it :
PJ Harvey - Good Fortune
