A Recurring Dream

Friday 24th June: I don’t think I had quite realised how much Dream Of Apollo had impressed our little clutch of music lovers when we saw them just three weeks ago. Andy and I had both taken time to chat to band members at the end of that gig, with both of us saying we would be seeing them again, and Roj had definitely liked them according to his blog post, but it’s not often (if ever) that we have seen the same band on consecutive group nights out. (Admittedly, I had been on a solo trip to see Nils Lofgren two weeks ago.) Tonight, however, it was a unanimous and, it has to be said, quite eager, vote to head down to The Golden Lion to see if the magic could be recreated.

It was fairly obvious that the venue wasn’t going to do the band any favours – it’s a bigger, more central and, therefore, more popular pub than The Yorkshire Hussar and, while there were a few familiar faces ensconced in front of the stage area, there was also a large number of people who were there for the beer rather than, it seemed, for the music. It also turned out that the acoustics aren’t that great – we started the night at the front of the pub, as far away from the stage as you can get, gradually moving forward as seats became available and it was only when we finally made it to a table directly in front of the stage (or, in Andy and Yvonne’s case, standing even further forward) that we got the full effect and that Vicki’s vocals started to sound as clear as we remembered them.

Tonight’s set was slightly different from last time. Vicki started with just three solo songs – her own Mine, Tracy Chapman’s For My Lover and the still nice Boats And Birds (Gregory And The Hawk) – before calling the rest of the band to the stage for the full set. Unfortunately, we were still at the front of the room at this point and couldn’t hear them too clearly.

I’m still not sure how you classify a band who do covers of songs by Dolly Parton (Jolene), Johnny Cash (Folsom Prison Blues, which saw Winston really cut loose) and Depeche Mode (In A Manner Of Speaking) but one thing I do know is that they are not a “rock covers” band as advertised on the various posters dotted around the pub. As last time, those were the only covers they performed with the rest of the set being taken up with their own songs, with only the bluesy Jimmy missing from last time out. There isn’t a bad song in the, style-wise, very varied set but if I had to pick highlights they would be the dreamy Someday, the harder-hitting Anatole, the three-minute pop of Hold Me and the vibrant, atmospheric rock of Regrets Of The Devil, along with everybody’s favourite Sandman and the simply stunning near-prog of Free with its incredibly tightly executed time changes and tonight moved to the end of the first half of the set. (If I were egotistical, I would wonder whether that was because of what I wrote last time – but that would imply that I know what I’m talking about…) Such variation from a lesser band might indicate a lack of clear musical direction – with Dream Of Apollo, it just seems to work somehow.

Again, this was a totally assured performance with the whole band looking as though they were enjoying themselves, despite the more difficult conditions (at the end of Home, a huge cheer went up from the crowd and the band looked slightly surprised, until somebody pointed out that the T.V. screens had just showed Andy Murray winning his third round match at Wimbledon. “We liked the song as well, though,” shouted one voice from the bar) and, by the end of the evening, there seemed to be a lot more people taking notice of the music than there had been at the start. Despite the strange acoustics of the venue, this proved that we weren’t wrong last time and Dream Of Apollo are one of the best local bands around at the moment. They are about to embark on an eight gig tour, including appearances in the North East, The Netherlands and London, before returning to York to headline Fibbers on the 10th of July. We are already making plans to be there.

Back At The Barbican

Friday 10th June: Nils Lofgren must have, at some point in the past, registered on the periphery of my musical knowledge. While browsing the first few acts booked to appear at the newly re-opened York Barbican, I knew that I wanted to see him but didn’t quite know why. Or, for that matter, exactly who he was. A quick Google (what did we do before the internet…?) revealed that he was not only a virtuoso guitarist and singer-songwriter in his own right, but that he had also been a member of Bruce Springsteen’s E Street Band (as well as playing alongside such luminaries as Neil Young and Ringo Starr). So it was that I found myself out on a Friday evening, with a completely different set of music fans, having paid what was, for me in recent years, a record amount of money to see somebody who I hardly knew anything about.

Firstly, a few words about the Barbican. During its first stint as an entertainments venue I saw quite a few reasonably big names perform there, including Lisa Stansfield (whose tour consisted of nights at the Glasgow SEC, Birmingham NEC, Wembley Arena and York Barbican – somebody somewhere knew somebody, I suspect), Big Country, Runrig, Lindisfarne, All About Eve (who were booed after giving us just a half hour set) and Mel C (twice!). Sadly, I missed seeing Robbie Williams there. I always liked the idea of having a venue of its size in York as it gave us the chance to see such names without the hassle of travelling. So, it was with no little excitement that I greeted the news that it was to re-open, with a recognised promotion company running it. While few of the currently announced acts have resonated enough for me to consider going along, I really hope that the place is successful enough to survive. While I’ve got used to paying smaller amounts to see bands play live, there are undoubtedly times when I would pay more to see bigger acts (and there is at least one local band that I can think of who would be more suited to play there than their current regular venue). Inside, the Barbican hasn’t changed much – the seats appear to be the same ones as before and look a little worn in places and what we could see of the floor in the arena didn’t seem to indicate that it had been tidied up, let alone replaced. I guess most of the refit money will have gone on the public-facing and business areas – the bar and conference rooms and a new (I think) restaurant – as well as cleaning the place out. Presumably, there’s little point in spending too much on a room that most people will only see in darkness.

Tonight was part of Nils’ “acoustic” tour, although that was a slight misnomer as he played electric guitar for a few of the songs. Appearing with just one other musician – the very versatile Greg Varlotta – meant that the stage appeared a bit sparse and under populated, with just a few speakers, a single keyboard, a couple of guitars, an electric harp and some strategically placed wicker baskets visible from the beginning. The harp quickly disappeared (with the help of a hard-working roadie who seemed to be constantly swapping instruments or re-arranging the stage) after Nils used it for an intricate opening to the first song, Too Many Miles, before changing to electric guitar and staggering around the stage while playing some extraordinary solos with Greg accompanying on the keyboard. Electric was replaced by acoustic for Everybody Wants and a different acoustic, with an incredible sound, was used for Share A Little, during which the aforementioned baskets were used as foot rests, giving us a better view of the intricacies of Lofgren’s playing. Two requests followed – solo versions of Neil Young’s Long May You Run and the much simpler Take You To The Movies Tonight. Keith Don’t Go showed even more versatility as guitar strings were gently plucked one minute and brutally punished the next. By this time I had given up counting the number of guitar changes and had no idea whether they were simply being rotated and whether the one used for You had been used before or whether there was a seemingly infinite stock in the wings. During Girls In Motion it became obvious that Nils was, at least on occasions, utilising backing tracks to provide a fuller sound. I have no problem with that – I assume it saves on touring costs and certainly doesn’t detract from the superb solos he was playing – and I think it’s the first time I’ve experienced it, at least for guitars. Greg, who had been absent since the end of the third song, returned to the stage to play trumpet during Rusty Gun, inevitably giving the song a slightly Mexican feel, then teased an almost choral sound from the keyboard for Black Books, which Nils described as a “dark country song” as he donned sunglasses to play it. Eschewing instruments altogether, Greg then made his way to a previously unnoticed board lying at the back of the stage and, during Cry Tough, proceeded to thoroughly enjoy himself while performing what can only be described as “Dad tap-dancing”, providing an unusual and hugely entertaining rhythm section which sounded a lot fuller and deeper than the usual clickety-clack sound associated with tap shoes. It was all change for Irish Angel, a lovely ballad which saw Nils take to the keyboard and Greg pick up a guitar and which was similarly followed by the lyrically superb Goin’ Back, Believe and the very radio-friendly The Sun Hasn’t Set On This Boy Yet. It was then Greg’s turn in the spotlight as he played a nice guitar solo, during which Nils changed his shoes and donned a radio mike while the roadies brought back the harp, moved the board to the front of the stage and brought on a silver cane. I’m told that Be Humble started life as a simple rock and roll song, the version we got tonight, however, with Nils tapping out the percussion with both feet and cane, playing harp and guitar (with his teeth for one section) could almost be described as “epic”. With the plethora of instruments and effects, it seemed that this was to be the big finish but, when it was followed by a return to relative simplicity with Like Rain and then Greg returned to the once again repositioned board for Mud In Your Eye, which got a fair few people in the audience singing along. No Mercy brought an almost AOR sound to the set before Nils and Greg, both on guitar, gave an atmospheric opening to Because The Night (the only song I recognised in the whole set), with Greg also providing his strongest backing vocals of the evening. After two hours continual playing there was a brief departure before the guys returned for an encore consisting of I Came To Dance, with its near Honky-Tonk keyboard section and the inevitable and crowd-pleasing tap duet and, finally, the brilliant Shine Silently.

Nils may be a few days shy of his sixtieth birthday and may have undergone hip replacement surgery back in 2008, but it didn’t show tonight. Over the course of two and a quarter hours, his playing was superb, innovative, bordering on genius (at least to a non-musician like me) and with an incredible variety of styles. At one point, he played so frantically that his thumb plectrum flew across the stage, to be retrieved a few minutes later during a quieter section. While there may have been no back-flips during the performance, he staggered and spun around stage like a man half his age. The Barbican has, in the past, faced criticism for its acoustics. Tonight, however, despite a bit of hiss in the quieter parts, the vocals were as clear as you can get, showcasing a still strong voice. On top of all that, this is the first time I’ve seen a “big star” announce on stage that he would be coming out to sign autographs after the show. Chatting with and shaking the hands of everybody who approached him and showing no impatience with all those who wanted photographs, Nils belied the generic rock star image and delighted the crowd both on and off stage. Quite simply superb.

A Dream Of A Band

Friday 3rd June: There wasn’t much to suit our collective tastes in our usual haunts tonight but it seemed that Andy was keen on meeting up anyway, so he came up with a couple of alternative suggestions. Roj’s response of, “I’m not fussed for folk” to the thought of heading to the Black Swan left just a band we’d not come across before (and one I incorrectly assumed must be newcomers – they’ve had a presence on MySpace since 2007) in The Yorkshire Hussar, a venue we hadn’t frequented for music before. It’s certainly changed from the real-ale pub I remembered from the days I worked almost next door to it, now just serving two hand-pulled ales. To be honest, I wasn’t going to venture out – I had already been to one gig this week and have to balance a love of live music with family time. Out of curiosity, though, I had a look at the band’s MySpace page and had a listen to Sandman, to which my initial response was something along the lines of, “Wow!” and, on the basis of that song, I changed my mind. It’s a good thing I’ve got such an understanding wife.

Dream Of Apollo was born when solo performer Vicki Mack started collaborating with other musicians in order to give her songs a bigger sound. Appropriately, tonight’s set, with the band’s equipment taking up half of the pub’s back room and a reasonably sized (for the venue) audience crowding the bar area and watching from doorways, started with Vicki performing five songs acoustically on her own. Starting with Burn (originally by Ray Lamontagne) she promised us that the rest of the songs wouldn’t be quite so depressing. Following that with Lovesong (The Cure), For My Lover (Tracy Chapman) and Boats And Birds (Gregory and the Hawk – who I’ve never heard of but will now be checking out) and then a song of her own, Mine. Throughout, Vicki’s vocals were superb, mixing the quieter bits with more powerful sections while staying incredibly clear. She performs with a slightly detached air, often starting at a space somewhere above the audience, occasionally flashing a smile and spoke rarely between songs. I’ve seen guitarists mark time in a number of ways, from foot tapping to stomping, but I’ve never seen anybody do it by rocking onto the sides of their feet before.

After those five songs, Vicki was joined by the rest of the band – Winston Sanders on guitar, Rhys Bevan on bass and Jamie Bradley on drums (and also doubling as soundman). For some reason, I had been expecting an acoustic set, but, while Vicki stayed with her acoustic guitar and Jamie played mainly played with brushes (due to the small venue, maybe?), the guitar and bass were both electric. After Sanctuary, Winston joked that they only did songs starting with the letter “S” as he introduced Someday with its lovely slow start leading into some crashing drums and a much stronger finish. Winston then asked the band whether they had any other songs beginning with “S”. “Sandman,”shouted some wag from the audience. (I don’t know what came over me…) “Ooo, we have. Are we doing that one?” he asked Vicki. “No,” she replied. (Dammit!) Instead they played their first cover of the set, In A Manner Of Speaking (Depeche Mode), which was similar in style to the last song, but with a quieter end. Then it was back to their own songs with Leander and the darker toned Anatole with its references to the “brimstone of Hell”. All these songs had been good but I was about to be blown away. Free turned out to be an epic rock track with lovely guitar work, complimentary vocals from Winston and so many changes of time signature towards the end that it was hard to keep up. If ever a song was created to end a set on a high, this is it. However, the band were nowhere near finished and continued with Home, which had a bit of a rock-a-billy feel to it before covering Jolene (Dolly Parton) and then taking a break.

I’m always a bit wary of somebody else taking the “stage” when a band is taking a break. Sometimes the audience, as well as the performers themselves, needs time to take a breath. Tonight, however, a “good” friend of Winston (prompting some amusement when he didn’t know his surname) – Maartin from The Netherlands – was invited to play a few songs. We had been commenting (between songs, obviously) how quiet the audience was being while Dream Of Apollo were playing. It seemed as though everybody was listening intently or, at least, not trying to shout over the music as is the case at most gigs. Unfortunately, when Maartin was playing two blokes behind me decided to break the spell and discuss, rather loudly, the Bramham Horse Trials, so it was a little difficult to concentrate on his performance. Roj, standing a bit closer than I was, recognised his first song as a cover of Radiohead’s Don’t Leave Me High and he also played Dutch song Slaapliedje (Lullaby) by Acda en de Munnik and his own song Not Going Home, which was much faster and lighter in tone than the other two.

Dream Of Apollo returned with Regrets Of The Devil and segued into the bass heavy Children Of The City. For the only time during the evening, Vicki’s vocals seemed a little swamped during Regrets, but any fan of the likes of (T.V. show) Supernatural would understand the references to souls being taken at crossroads. At this point it has to be said that, while I’ve seen some laid-back bass-players in my time I don’t think I’ve ever seen one as relaxed as Rhys, who spent a fair bit of time sitting down. Sandman, with its superbly atmospheric guitars, followed, with Winston saying it was for me and it was every bit as good live. Next up came Jimmy, with Vicki playing harmonica for a slightly more bluesy sound then Too Lost Too Late and Hold Me before the set finished with a cover of Folsom Prison Blues (Johnny Cash). The audience were definitely keen for more but the band didn’t seem to have an encore prepared. After a bit of discussion Vicki and Jamie gave us one of her own songs, the darkly humourous Dead Pets, but the audience still weren’t satisfied and, were asked what they wanted to hear again. The vote was unanimous and we got a second helping of Sandman.

One of the best things about supporting the local music scene, if only by attending gigs and buying CDs directly from bands, is that every so often you stumble across a band that really does blow you away and you don’t want the evening to end. Tonight was one of those times. Totally at ease on stage, with the audience (which tonight, I suspect, consisted of a fair few people who knew the band members) and with each other, Dream Of Apollo produced an enthralling set full of very good songs and one of the best gigs I’ve been to this year. Sadly they haven’t released an album yet but if they do I will certainly be buying a copy. (I’d even go so far as to say that, with the right songs on it, I would consider purchasing an EP.) I will definitely be making an effort to see them live again, either in the Golden Lion on the 24th of June or at Fibbers on the 10th of July, when they are headlining. Maybe even both. I think I may have a new favourite live band.

Graeme’s Last Blast

Monday 31st May: I know, it’s a Bank Holiday, time to be with family sitting in front of the T.V. watching the increasingly dire output. But tonight is a special night for one of my favourite York bands so there was nothing else for it – I just had to drag myself to Fibbers.

I hadn’t known in advance what time the first band was going to be on stage tonight so, after realising that I had nearly an hour between me handing in my ticket and the show starting, I headed back up the road to the Black Swan for a swift(ish) pint of the good stuff before re-entering Fibbers to find it already reasonably full, including a fair few people attired, like myself, in t-shirts proclaiming the name of the headliners. It’s not often you see that outside of big gigs these days and, perhaps, shows how far the band have come in building up a loyal fan base.

Velvet Star were tonight’s support and vocalist Danny Jones started off by asking everybody to move forward (most people were still further back than my usual, fairly conservative position. Like most people, I stayed where I was, which proved to be a good move as we were then treated to an ear-splitting scream (I pity anybody who had moved closer to the speakers) from Danny before he launched into the first song, Revolver. The performance was fast, furious and loud. The sort of rock that has a little too much punk in it for my tastes. Indeed the set finished with Danny taking a “noise vote” on whether the band covered a Sex Pistols song or one from Iggy and the Stooges. There was a nice variation in tone, with a song sounding like Run To The Hills era Iron Maiden being followed by one a lot slower with a nice melodic riff – I think this one was It Ain’t Over – while Fifteen Minutes More was one of the punkier songs. One song, the title of which I didn’t catch, even seemed to contain elements of all their influences, starting slowly before a huge change of pace towards the end. Danny is a great frontman, taking the show to the audience and riding over any audience ambivalence. Guitarist Adrian Lamming gave us some screeching, neck-in-the-air solos, while Corey Jones (bass) and Ginna Rhodes (ex-vocalist of $lash Vega$, now on drums) provided pounding rhythms. I doubt that their album will find its way into my CD collection, but Velvet Star are a very good live act and were a superb warm-up for tonight’s show.

I think I’ve seen Morpheus Rising every time they have played in York (except the first gig, which I seem to remember was acoustic and on a Boxing Day a couple of years ago). Tonight see’s the end of a relatively short era for the band is it is vocalist Graeme Tennick’s last performance with them. He’s been offered a job which is just too good to turn down and the added commute time precludes him staying with the band. Kenya is just too far away…

Taking to the stage to their usual intro music and this time adding a few pyrotechnics, the band launched into a set which contained much of the usual material, a couple of songs I hadn’t heard before and, eventually, a version of one of their songs that was just a little bit unusual. Save The Day was followed by Brave New World then Fighting Man, with Graeme milking his last performance for all it was worth – bouncing around the stage, climbing the barrier, conducting (and, in some respects, mimicking) the rest of the band. Each song was given a short introduction, in some cases explaining the inspiration behind it – like Quench Your Thirst, which I had always known was about vampires, but not that it was inspired by the film 30 Days Of Night. Fear Of Nothing was the first of tonight’s songs I didn’t recognise and Graeme himself had to revert to reading the lyric sheet. Pete and Daymo, sharing guitar duties, showed two different characters – Pete has an almost cheeky demeanour, peppering his performance with face splitting grins, while Daymo’s smoulderingly intense concentration is only rarely broken with a quick smile. Both provide some stunning sounds, whether it’s the crunching riff of Those Who Watch or the more elegant harmonics of Gypsy King. Shades Of Grey, with the vocal highlights of the set, followed In The End and then we reached the end of the set with Hold On and the band left the stage. There followed a few rather muted shouts for more before Graeme and Pete returned to the stage for an acoustic version of An Ordinary Man, which made up for what it lacked in raw power compared to the rest of the set by the emotional punch that it packed. Finally the rest of the band returned for These Four Walls.

It had been an emotional performance, you could see and feel that from off stage. But the band hadn’t let the occasion bring them down, choosing instead to treat tonight as a celebration (of Graeme’s tenure rather than the fact that he was leaving) and turned out what was, in my opinion, the best performance I have seen from them. They may not have raised the roof at Fibbers but I’m sure I saw a few cracks in the ceiling. My only regret is that the band didn’t get a chance to complete their debut album before Graeme left. Not only would it have been a worthy addition to my CD collection, but I’m fairly certain it would have been a very good legacy from his time in the band. It has already been announced that Simon Wright (Burnwylde) will be replacing Graeme on vocals and will make his debut when Morpheus Rising rise again at the Cambridge Rock Festival in August. I suspect that the band will pick up more than a few new fans from that performance. 

Marc’ing Time

Friday 27th May: There was nothing in the way of original music to tempt us out tonight so, given that it was the first time in what seemed like ages that everybody was available, we decided to revert to a covers performance. I realise that sounds a bit denigrating. It’s not meant to. Every so often, at least in my opinion, it’s nice to head out somewhere where you know pretty much all the music, can enjoy a few decent beers and, to be honest, not worry too much about having a chat – after all, being in a busy pub (in this case, the Old White Swan) on a Friday night the performer can’t and, I assume, doesn’t expect everybody to be hanging on his every note.

Tonight’s performer, York ex-pat Marc Atkinson, is a very good singer/songwriter in his own right. He has already released two solo albums – one of his own material and a double CD of covers (one disc acoustic, the other electric) – and is involved in a number of, in my opinion, exciting projects. As well as lead vocals on a number of songs on this year’s forthcoming Mandalaband album, he is getting closer to finishing his own long-awaited Riversea project (of which he was kind enough to give me a copy of some of the work in progress) and is already working on a third solo album.

Tonight, though, it’s down to what he sees as his “day job” – entertaining the punters, getting them to stay a bit longer and, hopefully, spend more money in the pub. In a kind of reverse-karaoke scenario, Marc hands round a comprehensive and, in some cases, unusual list of songs he can perform and asks for requests from the audience, which seems to include a few regulars and fans, including one young, recently betrothed couple who had Marc sing at their wedding. If no requests are forthcoming, he simply picks something himself, varying the set nicely.

The guitar playing is kept relatively simple with few real flourishes, which isn’t an issue as it is Marc’s vocal talents which really cut through the ambient noise and, eventually, the crowd in the small room in which he is playing do seem to be taking more notice. In fact, this is a better behaved pub crowd than I would have expected, at least from previous experience. Maybe it helps that the music is effectively tucked away in a corner of what is quite a large pub, leaving more space for those who don’t want to listen to wander away into (unlike say The Roman Bath). In fact so good-natured was the crowd that, even the addition of some rather drunken Grandad-dancing, from a Dylan loving OAP who walked with a stick but discarded it to dance, only seemed to add to the entertainment (at least for a while…) A very entertaining and, it turned out, very late evening.

For the record, Marc’s set tonight comprised of: Yellow (Coldplay), Human (Killers), Tumble And Fall (Feeder), Chasing Cars (Snow Patrol), Many Of Horror (Biffy Clyro), Iris (The Goo Goo Dolls), Better Be Home Soon (Crowded House), Happy Birthday (the traditional one, not Altered Images, but sung in the voice of Donald Duck), Crazy Little Thing Called Love (Queen), Someone Like You (Adele), Stand By Me (Ben E. King), Stop and Stare (One Republic), Light Up (Snow Patrol), I’m Yours (Jason Mraz), Grenade (Bruno Mars), Angels (Robbie Williams), after which he stopped for a well-deserved break, before starting again with: Walking In Memphis (Mark Cohn), Lying Eyes (The Eagles), Wherever You Will Go (The Calling), Everybody Hurts (R.E.M.), Knocking On Heaven’s Door (Bob Dylan), Summer Of ‘69 (Bryan Adams), Sex On Fire (Kings of Leon), Hallelujah (Leonard Cohen), Heaven (Bryan Adams), Valerie (Amy Winehouse), Still In Love With You (Thin Lizzy), Hotel California (The Eagles), a Beatles/Monkees medley, Have I Told You Lately (Van Morrison), Don’t Stop Believing (Journey), Comfortably Numb (Pink Floyd), Babylon (David Gray), I Don’t Want To Talk About It (Rod Stewart).

From The Archives: A Night Of Summer Magic

Wednesday 1st June: “I was there,” I pointed out to Debbie when the 1986 tour, specifically Wembley Stadium (you know, the old one with the towers) was covered on the second part of  this weekend’s Queen: Day Of Our Lives documentary. Then I remembered that, back in those pre-internet (well, mass market internet) and hence, pre-blogging days, I had actually sat down after the gig and written a review of the whole thing, tucking it away in the pages of the program (yes, in those days, I not only went to stadium gigs, I also bought programs) for posterity.My nineteen-year-old self must have known that, years later, I would spend a good part of my spare time pretending to be a music journalist. A quick trip to the loft and I had the nearly two sides of A4, handwritten review and, just to prove that my writing hasn’t improved at all, I thought I’d share it with you, in all its naivety and unedited glory (although I may add the odd bit if retrospective commentary in red).

A Queen tour is always something special and, after missing the 1984 tour, when I got a chance of two tickets to see them at Wembley on the 11th July 1986, there was no holding me back. (Good job, really, as it turned out to be their last tour.) 

Of course, this was to be no ordinary Queen gig. Three other groups were also billed as guests. The Australian group INXS were first on and thankfully didn’t stay for long. Although it might have been better if I’d heard one or two of their records, (records!!) their performance only served as a teaser for what I hoped would be happening next. A couple of songs did sound as if something could have been done with them, the group and the sound system didn’t sound too well matched. (I think this was one of INXS’s first appearances in the UK and I remember that, on the tube back to Victoria Station most of the people in our carriage were saying that they were rubbish, except for one bloke who came out with something along the lines of, “No, they were OK. I think they’re going to be big.” How prescient of him.)

Although a bit disconcerting at times, the fact that (as we were sitting near the back of the stadium) we saw what was happening on stage (via a large screen) two or three seconds before we heard it, (I had gone with then girlfriend and soon to be first wife, who didn’t want to go anywhere near the front) seemed to dwindle in importance when we started listening to the music more and watching the screen less. This was the case with the next group, The Alarm. Such classics as 68 Guns, Where Were You Hiding and Spirit of ‘76 blasted off the stage and through the four huge speaker banks, as this North Wales group gave a powerful and charismatic performance. A performance which, although it could only be a short one, nevertheless seemed too short. (Eh?)

It was between this group and the next that one of the two large crowd spectacles started. Undoubtedly stemming from over exposure to the World Cup, our half of the crowd started to emulate the Mexican human wave, only to be met with a total lack of response from the terraces at the back. After a bout of booing at the hapless lot, the far corner to the right of the stage set it off again, this time in a clockwise direction and this time with more success, as the whole thing lasted about a quarter of an hour and finished up quite competitively, with each side booing each other down.

Next up, the new Status Quo, with new bassist and drummer, the latter being a real powerhouse. As expected, the emphasis was on Parfitt and Rossi (Rossi’s wit being unimpaired by two years off the road) as the combo ploughed their way through (I’m fairly sure I didn’t mean it to sound like it was an effort) old Quo songs including Roll Over Lay Down, Whatever You Want, Dirty Water and, to the crowd’s delight, Rocking All Over The World. Quo were also the first band to do an encore, which consisted of Caroline and at least one other that I can’t remember. (No mobile phones in those days and I didn’t take pen and paper with me…)

Then, after half an hour’s wait, came Queen. The whole stadium rose as, without announcement, the speakers started blasting out One Vision. A thunder went up when the four stars of the show swept onto the stage. The flamboyant Freddie Mercury pranced and strutted along in time to the music and his own voice. Hit followed hit. One Vision, Kind Of Magic, Crazy Little Thing Called Love, Love Of My Heart (Life, surely?) and a tear-jerking Is This The World We Created? to name a few. With the hits came the rain. Thankfully we were under shelter (good thinking by future wifey…) but it didn’t bother many who weren’t and brought wisecracks from Freddie.

Instrumentals from Taylor and May were then followed by more hits. I Want To Break Free, Another One Bites The Dust, Under Pressure and the excellent Bohemian Rhapsody. With Quo and Queen the sound system had really taken flight and the audience had taken voice, as a lively performance of Tutti Frutti showed. Then, as the group left the stage (after two or three more hits, including an excellent Hammer To Fall) the crowd rose as one, demanding more. As the lights went down, the lighters appeared, small pinpoints of light in a sea of blackness. A roar went up as Queen came back on, another one as Radio Ga Ga started. With the chorus thousands of pairs of hands shot into the air to do the clap sequence from the video, a great sign of unity and a wonderful sight. Again they went off. Again the lighters, again they came on. (Must have been magical lighters, I suppose.) A grand finale in every sense of the phrase. We Will Rock You, then Friends Will Be Friends and finally and appropriately We Are The Champions, all of which were heard for dozens of yards outside the stadium.

Finally it was over, but the crowd as one was still reluctant to go. It had definitely been a night of Summer magic, rain and all.