Monday 14 December 2015

The Courtesans and The Voyeur Pt III


The Courtesans and The Voyeur

Part III


10. 12 Bar Club, London, 21th December 2015

To be continued…


Saturday 12th December 2015

The Courtesans, Howard, Sidewalks and Skeletons, Leashes  

12 Bar Club, London

Well they well and truly fucked that up didn’t they… But, as usual, I’m jumping ahead of myself.

Dear reader, before I go any further, a little house keeping. As I reached the end of Part I, my porn machine went tits up tonto and became The Catholic Church, sorry I meant to say corrupted. The same thing happened as I reached the end of Part II, only this time my porn machine became FIFA and the whole of my blog was transported to Qatar.

Having nearly lost all of my work - twice - I’ve decided to not take any more chances and to change the format, from now on it will be one gig per post.

Also, because my blog got transported to Qatar I wasn’t able to finish Part II in the way I wanted, so I’m putting the end of Part II at the bottom of this post, it ruins the symmetry, but shit happens… Oh the irony…

Moving on…

I eventually got the venue just before 6pm, a few quick photos, before diving inside and heading straight for the bar. What a fantastic little venue. I’m not exactly sure what I was imagining but this wasn’t it.

I didn’t notice it straight away, in fact I didn’t notice it at all, I even walked around the corner of the bar to where what was happening was happening, I even took photos of it, but it still didn’t click - if you’ll pardon the pun.

Back at the bar, I bought my first beer of the evening, which set the wheels of events spinning and later on my head and room, before watching the rest of the Euro draw.

And I’ve still not noticed.

Time rolls on, band members, Howard and crew walk past, say hello, stop to chat, texts from Mick who’s on the red eye from Stratford and even after chatting to band members, Howard and crew, I’ve still not noticed. 

Saff, for whatever reason has decided to dress as Marley’s Ghost from Scrooge, well a younger, female, in her underwear, version of Marley’s Ghost. That girl could wear a dust bin and still look fit as fuck. Actually, she’d probably look like a Dalek and who wouldn’t want to do a Dalek, with all of those small perfectly formed pert domes and that big sucker thing on the front of it, the suction… I can’t be the only one that ever thought of doing a Dalek… Oh… Right… It is just me then…

I’m introduced to Dan and as and we chat about the demise of Chelsea up rocks Mick, “Spurs fan”, I shout across the bar and everyone turns to look while Mick just laughs it off… Let the banter begin… For all the people that don’t know the 12 Bar Club is literally a few hundred metres from The Emirates and as we all know the pride of North London is… Enfield Town FC.

And I’ve still not noticed.

While chatting at the bar about football, or more accurately listening to Dan and Mick trade points - and let’s be honest Chelsea need them - about which team has won what and when. It was simply a matter of time before Dan played his Top Trump, “Who’s won the European Cup?”

With incredible timing up rocks David (see Milton Keynes, Bishop Stortford and Evesham) who’s from Northampton and so obviously supports Crystal Palace. “Guy’s this David”, I said, “I forgot who you support”, I continued.  “Palace” replied David. “He’s Chelsea and he’s Tottenham…” “Both teams we’re above”, said David, before walking off. Oh God it so funny I just fell about the place. Top Trumped by a Palace fan…

Somewhere around to close to 8pm The Courtesans are on stage and sound checking. I looked at Mick and said, trust me, they sound a lot better than this. I promise.

And I’ve still not noticed.

What I hadn’t noticed was that the bands were sound checking in reverse order and everything was running stupidly late.  

Eventually someone somewhere decided that someone somewhere should tell at least one of the bands to go stage and get on with it.

Leashes, bless them, I still don’t get it, but at least they give it everything and I love that about them.

Skeleton and Sidewalks are the surprise of the night and they play a blinder of a set.

Then Howard gets up on stage with some old friends and plays a few songs. Turns out he was in a few bands back in his younger days before getting involved with band management.

As we chatted at the bar, we started to realise that something was going wrong, apart from running late, it just wasn’t happening, it was all very disjointed, oh look… it’s a De Lorean and suddenly were back  at The Watershed in Newport Pagnell.
If all of that wasn’t enough, up rocks Mark from SANE http://sane.org.uk/ The Courtesans being The Courtesans had agreed to get involved with SANE for tonight’s gig and Mark was going to get up on the stage say a few words, the only problem was that he did it just before the band went on stage, instead of doing it at the start of the night and then spending all night just chatting with people and handing out info and advice… and again, it just like the events at The Watershed, it killed the vibe, well, it just put more nails into the coffin.


Eventually, sometime after 10pm The Courtesans are on stage. By now it was too late for me. I’d drank too much. I’d swopped too many stories of seeing other bands doing similar things and far worse and frankly I was beginning to wonder if they were going to be able to rescue the situation.

I dived to the front of the stage centre, knelt down - I know my place. The Courtesans did what The Courtesans do best and just launched into their set and they played a blinder. Bloody hell they were on fire…

I could see the set list, track 6 and a new song, “John Doe” (I see what they did there) I flip my camera to film mode and recorded the song. But it started to go wrong again. Sinead couldn’t find her drum, neither could anyone else. Eventually the drum is found and the song begins. Impressive, very impressive.

OY! Sinead, your drum is behind you, it’s got some Irish bird stood in it… Am I the only one that thinks she almost looks like a Dalek…? WHAT!? Oh come on…


From then on in, the gig just dissolved into chaos. Curfew. Did someone somewhere say curfew? Suddenly the race was on. How many songs can they play? Which one are they playing next? No, really, which one are they playing next? No one has a clue what the hell is going on and before anybody takes control of the situation the situation takes control of them. Gig Over!

It’s all going wrong…


If I can’t hear it then it’s not happening…


Suddenly there are two long strips of flame across the floor, we jump into the De Lorean and Halford at Graspop 2002 looms into view… http://nogginwalsall.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/bruce-dickinson-in-search-of-now-man.html

I found myself at the bar chatting with Mick. With cold forensic logic Mick picked the evening apart and it was difficult to disagree with him, especially since he was right. 

I did speak to a few band members and they were not happy with what had happened. I don’t know the full facts of the evening. Maybe it’s best that I don’t. All I know is that The Courtesans fell into the oldest trick in the book. Lesson learnt? Well, time will tell.

Trying to put right what has just gone wrong…


I stepped into the cold night air, my head was spinning, the rain was falling, I stumbled into the tube station and started make my way home. Thanks to the events of the night I got to Tottenham Hale with literally seconds to spare.

WHOOOSSSHHHHHH!!! Litter is blown into the air, cold damp air thunders all around me and instead of finding two strips of flame to warm myself with I’m greeted with a very mucky cold and clammy train.

I jumped on the last train north, it didn’t take me all the way home, so a long walk in the pouring rain it was. I got home at 01.15 Sunday morning. My clothes slumped onto the floor and I crawled into bed.

Just like the Lexington, London gig and The Box up in Crewe, this will be another one of those gigs that people will say, I was there…  Seeing a band play a gig and play it well is one thing, but seeing a band play a gig and have it go wrong is another, this is where you see just how much they want it. How much they deserve your attention. You work hard for your money, let them give you a reason why you should spend it on them…  

Personally, I wouldn’t have missed it for all the money in the world. I have a sneaky feeling that the next time they play live they are going to be so angry that whoever witnesses that gig will simply get battered.  I only wish I could be there.

Within 24 hours The Courtesans had posted a message on their Facefuck page apologising for the previous night’s events and promising to send all of those that bought tickets in advance a little something in the post, Iron Maiden, 18th October 1986 Ipswich, Gaumont, springs to mind…

Tonight was my 10th Courtesans gig, what a way to move into double figures. I’ve just looked at my gig list, Iron Maiden 54, Wolfsbane 52, Bruce Dickinson 42, Living Colour 25, Terrorvision, Jagged Edge/Taste/Skin, The Stranglers 16, Blaze Bayley 14, The Wildhearts 12 and just bubbling under double figures, Sack Trick, Stretch, RUSH, Slayer, Status Quo… far too many to mention… Just how funny is that, The Courtesans are up there with the best…


All of which brings me to this, The Courtesans logo. I mentioned their logo after the Tamworth gig (Part I Chapter 04) and as I’ve already mentioned I wanted to conclude my thoughts after the Crewe gig (Part II Chapter 09) but I couldn’t. So here I go… (Again…).

Sometime after the Tamworth gig The Courtesans decided to change their logo, not once but twice and as I write/type, I’m wondering if they have completely dropped the word “The” from the band name.

I loved the original logo, it was a fantastic piece of artwork and a wonderful graphic and it would have looked so cool on a T Shirt, but as far as I’m concerned the word “Courtesans” didn’t read “Courtesans”.

fig 1

fig 2

fig 3

It took months and months to get my head around it, why, in my opinion, it didn’t work, and then in a flash of inspiration it just clicked, “Whitesnake”. I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t noticed it before, to be honest I couldn’t believe why I hadn’t noticed it straight away.

fig 4

If there’s a cooler band logo than the Whitesnake logo then I’m yet to see it. As a kid I loved it until someone pointed out to me the glaringly obvious mistake…  Once someone had pointed out the mistake in the Whitesnake logo I was more than a bit gutted, but it didn’t last too long.

Have you spotted it? Look at fig 1 and now look at fig 4. Can you spot what’s wrong? No, neither could I.

Here they are back to back or should that be top to bottom…

OK, I’ll put you out of your misery. It’s the letter “t” or more importantly the loop at the top of the letter and the cross that runs through it.

A similar mistake was staring at me from The Courtesans logo. In my opinion, what complicated the image more than the Whitesnake logo was the scroll in The Courtesans logo that runs from right to left and through the top loop in the letter “t”. The downward movement on the scroll as it moves towards the letter “C” making the letter “C” look like a letter “K”. To my eyes it almost looks like the Kellogg’s letter “K” (but not a Special K… See what I did there…?). 

In my opinion, if they had just cut the scroll short so it was literally just a short dribble through the loop at the top of the “t” I think it would have worked. Anyway…

None of the above is meant as a criticism just an insight into how I look at the world because of my dyslexia and an observation of the band, growing, changing, evolving.

Over the last three years I’ve watched and listened to the band as they simply got better and better and better. Every time I interact with the band they have grown a little bit more, became slightly more polished, whether it is on stage or off. The band logo is just an extension of that growth.

I know what you’re thinking. It’s easy. Well if it’s so easy, try it. Pretend you’ve just started a band. Now pick a name. Now pick a logo or a font. Not so easy is it. I know to at least four bands named “Iron Maiden”, three bands named “Nirvana” and as for “10CC” they actually had a hit record before a band name never mind a logo and it wasn’t until someone mentioned that they had seen the word “10CC” in a dream, that someone somewhere decided that it would be a good name for the band, that the single is released and the rest as they say is history…   

Finally, as I’ve watched The Courtesans over the last three years I’ve very often found myself thinking about Keith Wilfort and I’ve been thinking, at what point did he think, that the band (Iron Maiden) were not just another band, there must have been a point where he thought, hold on… there’s something going on here, also there must have been a point when it wasn’t just him that was seeing and hearing what he was seeing and hearing. There must have been a moment when it all started to change.  I wonder…

L to R, Newport Pagnell, London, Welwyn Garden City


L to R, Tamworth, London, Bishop Stortford


L to R, Evesham, Crewe, London

Look at how the set lists have developed over the last three years, just look at some of the songs that have been dropped, bloody hell fire…
And yes, that is my duvet cover, no I’m not gay, it just fucking looks good… deal with it…  


And… while I’m on the subject of “Iron Maiden” they have actually had at least THREE different logos since 1980 and their debut album, so if it’s good enough for Maiden then it’s good enough for The Courtesans.

The good thing about the latest Courtesans logo is that it makes it easier to draw on a school book or make from LEGO or embroider onto the back of your denim jacket… EEK!

Oh God… What were we thinking? Yes kids you read that right, we used to embroider the back of our denim jackets or denim cut offs.

None of this not being able to pull your trousers up over your pants (if I wanted to see your under wear I’d take you home – learn to dress yourself you fucking retard…) or carrying a bag around that is bigger than your girlfriends bag (seriously… what the fuck have you got in the there…) or those stupid Tony & Guy comb overs (you’ll have plenty of time to do that when you’re old, bald and fat).

We were hard core. We would rush home after a hard nights rocking and or a rolling, we would raid our mothers sewing kit and start embroidering our denims… Anyone can go out and rape a Nun or burn down a church but it takes a really evil bastard to embroider the back of a denim.

Embroidery, truly the work of the Devil.

Only real Metal fans embroider…

*places head in hands and shakes head from side to side…*


To be continued…

Noggin xx

Sunday 19 July 2015

The Courtesans and The Voyeur Pt II


The Courtesans and The Voyeur

Part II



Index



05. The Craufurd Arms, Milton Keynes, 25th April 2015

06. The Lexington, London, 02nd May 2015

07. The Half Moon, Bishop Stortford, 30th May 2015

08. The Iron Road, Evesham, 31st October 2015

09. The Box, Crewe, 14st November 2015

To be continued…



Saturday 25 April 2015

The Courtesans, The Treatment (The Mark Skids)

The Craufurd Arms, Milton Keynes


WARNING!

1917 contains earworms… Ingredients include melodies so sweet and sugary you’ll feel the need to floss and emotions so dark you’ll have to sleep with the light on…

Side effects may lead to excessive grinning and the inability to remove the CD from your stereo.

What a day, up at 3am and off to Burton for a conference on Anti - Kidnapping, Anti - Hi Jacking and Anti -Terrorism. Once that was over it was down to Bescot for an Anti - Entertainment game of football, we beat Oldham 2-0 in the last home game of the season. Once that was over it was down to the Craufurd Arms, Milton Keynes for an Aunty…

Again, either by hook or by crook The Courtesans had pulled a support band out of the bag that were stunning, but I smelt a rat, this band were far too good to be playing here and supporting The Courtesans and I mean that in a positive way. The band were The Treatment who for whatever reason had called themselves “The Mark Skids”. I later found out that it was The Treatment’s first gig with a new singer, which explained the name “The Mark Skids”. Turns out that I’d seen The Treatment support Status Quo on their last tour in March 2014.

Not that I needed to be sneaky, I just chose to be, so be sneaky I was and strange as it might sound I did managed to avoid bumping into any of the band.

However, I did speak to Howard and told him my theory about bands who get out there and tour properly and how impressed I was with what they were doing. Howard told me and the band later confirmed that, “Aberdeen was fucking mental…” and the band were already looking forward to going back.

I stood in the middle of the room. The band walked on, the intro to Scream started and I just stood back and watched it all unfold.

The last time I’d seen them play was on the opening day of the season while today meant that there was only one week left, a whole football season had passed between us and in that time they had just got better and better and better, which is more than I can say for Walsall FC.

The sound was great. They looked great. The audience started to get into it and I decided that it was time to move down to the front, I’d seen and heard all I wanted to. I worked my way through the crowd and got to the stage and I crouched in front of Agnes on stage right just for a change.

As I watched, Agnes, Saff and Sinead made moves towards the crowd and the crowd backed off. Agnes and Saff, being Agnes and Saff, just stepped off the stage. The blokes down the front scattered. God it was so funny. They couldn’t shift quickly enough. Good on them, they called their bluff and they bottled it…

A few songs later and Agnes spotted me and she smiled as did Saff and Victoria when they saw me. I just smiled back and continued to enjoy the noise they were making. Then it happened. Sinead spotted me. Originally she was facing the drums, she turned to her left, looked at the crowd and straight at me, while I was still crouched in front of Agnes taking photos. Sinead was still in the middle of singing when she spotted me and she sort of went, “AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGHHHHH!!!!!! NOGGIN IT’S YOU!!!!!!!”, you know when you see your mates on a night on the piss and you go over the top and run towards each other before hugging like loony’s… I promise you that’s what she did. In the middle of the gig, while still singing, she rushed towards me and knelt down, gave me a big hug and kind of ruffled my hair while doing that MAFIA head/hand clasp thing and she never missed a vocal... WOW!

And what she whispered in my ear stays between me and Sinead… Well I say whispered, screamed more like… It was loud and she was excited… what can I say… I have that effect on women…

And for all the guys down the front that gave me the daggers, well you had your chance… Bunch of Pussies… HA! HA! HA!

I spent the rest of the gig just giggling to myself until I noticed Victoria, who was playing a drum pattern, not just a pattern but a tune, a melody, I was still crouched down the front and I just couldn’t look away, I’d never noticed it before and do you think that I had the sense to remember what song they were playing… I was mesmerised, hypnotised, stunned… You know when you walk into the kitchen and then you just stand there for about 10 minutes, numb, puzzled, not able to remember why you went in there in the first place… and then you suddenly remember… it was to get a whacking big knife because this time she has gone too far, you are right, she is wrong and it really is her time to die… It was just like that, well, except for the random killing spree… Obviously…

Other than that, the gig passed by so quickly, always the sign of a good gig.

After the gig, Sinead sneaked up on me and we hugged properly this time and we laughed about what had happened on stage and basically just laughed like a pair of school girls. I guess you had to be there.

I hung around after the gig and chatted to some of the punters. I listened to how they had got into the band and why they were there. I don’t think I heard the same story twice. In the middle of that I chatted to Agnes, Victoria and Saff, while everyone else tried to drag them away for their own piece of Courtesans time.

I do remember at one point trying to explain to Victoria my theory about Living Colour, Corey Glover, his hair, Clairol, why and how people got into the band and the similarity between Living Colour and The Courtesans. I’m not too convinced that she got it… HA! HA! HA!

Anyone wanting a photo stood next to the merch and against the wall between two band members, Sinead, Agnes, fan, Victoria, Saff, “ON” photograph taken “OFF” back to reality. Did I just see that? Really? Did I just see what I thought I saw? The band really have grown and moved upwards to a whole new level of confidence and skill. The awkwardness had gone.

As I stood watching, every now and again, me and Sinead would catch each other’s eye and burst out laughing. Every few minutes someone would want a band photo and it was just fun to stand back and be a voyeur.

I got home some time on Sunday morning.


Saturday 02nd May 2015

The Courtesans, Plastique, Leashes

The Lexington, London


In years to come this will be one of the gigs that people will look back at and say “I was there…”

As I sat by myself enjoying a nice quiet pint, texting and posting on the IMFC forum (God I need to get a life) up popped Sinead, later on Agnes and Victoria came over before Saff appeared like a Jack-in-the Box. The point to me mentioning that is for about an hour or more we just chatted about everything and anything and at no point did any of us know what was about to happen.

The support bands came and went with Plastique being the stand out band and having a very good stage presence (thank you for the free CD too…).

For reasons which I don’t seem to able to control I ended up on stage left at the feet of Mistress Saffire. Um…

By the time the band came on the place was pulsing, the room had a good positive vibe to it and everyone seemed to be excited about what it was that they were about to witness and take part in.

Well I wasn’t expecting that. There were half a dozen lesbians down the front and stood to my left who were lusting over Sinead and I mean properly lusting. It’s bad enough having to compete against men without having to compete against women too. “OY! That’s my job…” I shouted… She just glared at me. No sense of humour some people.

If that wasn’t enough, during Genius a group of girls again to my left sang Genius at the top of their voices while filming themselves in a “selfie” style type way. What the hell is going on there… I’m not complaining or dissing it, I was just completely side swiped by it.

But what made this gig special was the fact the band hit the back of the room. It was the first time I’d seen them hit the back of the room. The band had found that extra little piece of something, that bit of X Factor and it showed, it stood out like a spy in a John Le Carre novel waiting to come in from the cold.

Talking of spy’s, I spy with my little eye… the walls of the room… that just got a lot closer than they were 30 minutes ago. The room just shrank, smaller and smaller, tighter and tighter, the temperature rose and the room lifted with it.

“Good night…”

You’ve got to be kidding right. Nothing goes that fast, not even me and I’ve been known to finish very quickly… No… Hold on… That’s not right…

As for rushing off, I had a tube to catch, I said my goodbyes and just like Jack The Ripper I disappeared into the cold damp night air.

Then it happened. I’ve posted on the IMFC Forum Football Thread about The Courtesans before, but suddenly for whatever reason they started to take notice. Chris (Cardiff Iron) Nick (Ironmask666) and Mark (cagedbeast) in particular started to prick up their ears.

I posted a link to The Courtesans Soundcloud https://soundcloud.com/thecourtesans Mark suddenly announced that Genius would make a great Bond song. Who the hell are Bond…? I’ve never heard of them. Turns out he meant Bond as in James Bond. In the click of a mouse the whole thread just lit up like a Christmas Tree.

I’d never noticed it before, I couldn’t believe that I’d missed it. Then Nick piled in, confirming what Mark had said, it was definitely a Bond song if ever there was one.

It was around this time and after watching this https://vimeo.com/57753666 that Chris mentioned Victoria’s drumming style and how languid it was (and if you ever meet him don’t mention Nirvana, drummers and his band…).

Before I knew it Mark was E Mailing the James Bond Production Office and Nick was trying to buy the CD which did eventually arrive, anyone would think it was sent from 1917.

If all of that wasn’t weird enough as we were all watching The Eurovision Song Contest Nick piles in and states that The Courtesans should represent the UK. Why hadn’t we seen that before? They would be fantastic as UK representatives.

I thought that the The Courtesans chatter would eventually die down. It didn’t and as I write Mark is a happy bunny because they are playing Glasgow, although buying 50 tickets might be a little bit excessive, while in other news he’s really pissed off that the CD has sold out, so me and Nick are offering to sell him our copies for £200 and Chris is still in his man cave puzzling over Dave Grohl.


Saturday 30th May 2015

The Courtesans, Raided By Waves, Redwood, The Albino Peaches

The Half Moon, Bishop Stortford


Another home town gig, well as close as were going to get, Saff lives one side and I live the other so it seemed only fair that we meet in the middle. Saff had tipped me off that this might be difficult to get into, I’d also been tipped off by Laura at Harlot (I so want to call her Laura the Harlot as in Charlotte the Harlot – Iron Maiden 1980) that this was close to selling out and by the time I’d got it together there were less than 50 tickets available, I’d only ever seen a pub gig sell out before and that was Maiden, but then it would be wouldn’t it.

After seeing Villa get thumped by Arsenal in the FA Cup Final (been there done that …) it was time for the evening’s entertainment to begin.

As I sat at the bar I heard someone say, “Well I know Saff so I have come… “ I almost punched him silly. What a twat. In fact for the whole night he took great pleasure in telling everyone and anyone that he knew Saff, so what, I watch Crime Watch too… He even tried to tell me the same story just before they went on stage. Dick head… What is he going to be like when they finally make it…? He was wearing that shirt too… YES YOU!

There was something very strange going on here tonight. It was that classic case of, “you stay out of our village and we’ll stay out of your town…” except someone had forgotten to lock the door. I seemed to keep bumping into people that were very happy to tell me that they knew “the band…” Seriously… FUCK OFF! It wouldn’t be so bad if you were talking about Elvis or The Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, but it’s only The Courtesans playing a pub in Bishop Stortford.

Anyway… on a positive I bumped into someone (David) from the Milton Keynes gig the other month. We chatted about other Courtesans gigs we’ve done and both seemed to agree that there is something very special going on here.

After the gig someone did come up to me and say, “Did I see you at the London gig the other night?” Which was nice. So there were a few of us that were there to see the band and hadn’t got dilutions of importance.

By then I’d made a conscious note to start telling people that the band know me… hahaha…

I did bump into a few folks who tried to tell me how they had seen the band once before, I hadn’t got the heart to tell them that this was gig number seven for me. Bless them.

In the middle of all the nonsense that surrounds a pub gig I somehow managed to bump into Victoria who was going into the pub as I was popping out. She gave me a big hug. HOW COLD!? Good God women, I’ll have a word with my mate Dave, who’ll come round and put central heating in your coffin.

I know I always mention this but another really good set of support bands. I should have stayed in the back room chatting with the band (Courtesans), but I’ve got four bands to see tonight and see four bands I will.

It was also good to see Agnes’s hand was firmly attached to her arm and not completely missing. BIMBO! Now when she gave me a hug she was deliciously warm and a lot of fun was had when I snuggled under her coat. Victoria please take note.

As I watched The Courtesans trying to get over the noise of most of the audience saying, “I know *them/the band/Saff” (* delete where necessary) every now and again I would catch the eye of one of the band and vice versa and I would suddenly snap out of it. I would be completely in the moment enjoying the music and the vibe and then I would suddenly go, “CLICK” and come back to reality and I wonder if they did the same.

Then it happened, strange as this may seem, I was stage left, looking up and watching Saff thrashing away on her fret board like some fat sweaty bloke thrashing away at himself while in front of his porn machine, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sinead, who like a black Panther teasing a wildlife photographer in the jungle, deliberately, gracefully, slinked across the stage and slowly, surely and with spectacular accuracy placed a kiss on the right check of Saff’s face. WOW! That surely has to be up there with Springsteen kissing Clarence Clemons.

Towards the end of their set and I don’t know why it happened, they suddenly got very angry, three songs got absolutely battered, there was so much anger, aggression, almost boarder line hate, really up and in your face and I loved it. It reminded so much of Wolfsbane or Maiden in full flow. More of this please. It added a whole new dimension to the band and there sound. I’d never thought of them or looked at them in that way before, but by God was it good.

And who’d have thought “Lullaby” was about that? I hadn’t.

After the gig I was quite happy to hang around and chat to family and friends because the atmosphere had changed and it was quite obvious that these people were family and weren’t there just bigging themselves up.

I also got the opportunity to help Mistress Saffire peel off some of her rubber body paint. The rest of this story has been censored to protect the guilty.
That’s Christmas sorted then… One hair brush x 4… Scruffy Herberts… 

Saturday 31st October 2015

The Courtesans, London Black

The Iron Road, Evesham


Great Scott!!
Just how much fun was that? Well, apart from having to get up at 6am to witness it all.
Walsall v Gillingham. 2nd v 1st. The world’s gone mad. Walsall and Gillingham 2nd and 1st. I’m not exactly sure when and where that meeting was held, but I wasn’t invited to it. Seriously 2nd and 1st…?
What a great game of footy. Walsall got the winner on 90 minutes after being 0-2 down. Walsall 1st  Gillingham 3rd
AND YOU FUCKED IT UP TWO NIL                                                                                                                 AND YOU FUCKED IT UP TWO NIL…
Little did I know that those Gillingham fans making that long journey home would not be the last interaction I would have with the good folks of Kent.
But, as usual, I’m jumping ahead of myself, in the five months since I last saw The Courtesans a lot as happened.

For a start the God Squad turned up and tried to start a fight, typical of the representatives of God to completely misunderstand the word “Forgive”.

I then had to pop down to B&Q to get more wood for The Courtesans pigeon hole which needs a much bigger extension than I was anticipating. 


Sinead decided it was time to continue the connections to Living Colour by pretending to be Corey Glover by putting multi coloured braids in her hair before a music festival Essex.


The band decided to change their logo so many times that I lost count – more on that later.
While finally (for now) Sam Smith’s, “Writing on The Wall” was chosen as the new Bond theme, what utter tosh it is too. Don’t misunderstand, it is a bloody good love song, but it’s not a Bond theme, NO IT IS NOT… Stop with the internal dialogue, I’m right, just deal with it… They have just bolted on some strings to make it sound like a Bond song and frankly you could do that with Motorhead’s “Killed by Death” and to add insult to injury they made such a big deal out of selling 70,000 copies of the single in its first week and getting to number one. Are they having a laugh? SEVENTY THOUSAND COPIES! When I was a kid 70,000 copies wouldn’t get you in the top ten never mind number one. It’s not as if anyone had to go to the shop to buy it either, a simple click on a mouse and it’s bought, which is ironic seeing how he sounds like Mickey…
Rant over (for now).


By 7pm I was crossing the bridge over the iron road (see what I did there…) passing the pub on my left and pulling into the car park. BUMP! BUMP! BUMP! You’re got to be kidding me. I’ve got a puncture. Rear left? No, hold on, its front left. No, hold on it’s both. BUMP! BUMP! BUMP! No, it can’t be, not even I’m that unlucky… Or am I?
It wasn’t until I parked up and got out of the car to have a look that I realised that, that BUMP! BUMP! BUMP! Was in fact BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! And that long familiar sound of a sound check.
Once inside the pub, what can only be described as confusion and mild chaos greeted me. Well this will be interesting, I’ve never seen them sound check before.
In the middle of all of this, individual band members come over and say hello and I’m introduced to Mums and Dads.

The sound check continued, or didn’t depending on if your glass is half full or empty. Wedges not working. Vocals vanished. Unplug this, re connect that, band members stand politely and quietly, no panic, no rushing around, calm, easy, slowly, they work through each individual issue that stands in front of them. Does anyone have Valerie Singleton’s phone number? What’s needed around here is some sticky backed plastic.
Once the sound check was finished we all scattered in different directions and at one point I found myself at the bar chatting with David (see Milton Keynes and Bishop Stortford) Victoria and her Mum and I can only apologise to Victoria’s Mum for the bad language – who’d have thought Victoria could swear like… WHAT!?
At this point I must apologise to Peach’s (who’d travelled up from Margate in Kent) who I got chatting to via David, only to promptly forget what she looked like because she was in fancy dress and probably spent the rest of the night being ignored by me… Sorry, in my defence I am an idiot, also I’m stupidly bad with names and faces, in fact, if it ever becomes an Olympic event then I’m your man… (See you on the 12th… but I won’t recognise you… Ha Ha Ha…).
“And he’s one we made earlier…”
Sixty seconds after 9.29pm 9.30pm arrived and so did the support band and yet again, The Courtesans seem to have found another fantastic support band, “London Black” bounced on stage, someone somewhere flicked a switch, the PA went up to eleven and the opening scene from Back to The Future sprang to mind when Marty stands in front of that massive cab holding his guitar and you all know what happens next… Bloody Hell Fire… It was so loud… Great Scott!
As for London Black am I the only one that has ever watched their singer and thought “Dean Friedman”? Either way, go and see London Black…
Just like 9.29pm 10.29pm leads 10.30pm into the room and the reason for being up since 6am and travelling almost 200 hundred miles via Walsall going top of the league calmly walked on stage.

No fucking about, straight into “Liberate”, (is this going to end up being The Courtesans, Quo’s “Caroline”?) the song ends, Sinead rips off het jacket, out and off come the ear monitors and back on goes the jacket, at one point it looked she was going to start a fight.
Indigo, Dirty Killer, chase down Liberate and beat it to death on the stage, well it is Halloween after all…

The band were a lot more animated than I’ve seen them before, well apart from Victoria who continues to glide gracefully through each song like a swan in a royal park, well not the park, but the lake in the park… you know what I mean…
I’m not playing unless you say I’m Metal…

I’d already seen the set list so I knew that song No4 is going to be, “Out of Spite” and it’s a new song, I’d had every intention of standing stage right but I couldn’t because of the shape of the stage and in the end, just for a change, I ended up standing stage left in front of Mistress Saffire and next to the PA, which was simply battering me. I ducked into the doorway in the vain hope of getting out of the way of the volume and failed but on first hearing I’m impressed with “Out of Spite”.

By now official photographers and fans with professional equipment were falling over themselves at the front of the stage in vain hope of not spilling onto it. The audience had moved forward, being pulled in, sucked in, why try to prevent the inevitable, it was always going to happen, like trying to hold back the tide, maybe that’s why no one was dressed like King Canute.

As usual, all too soon it was over, new songs came and went, I could barely hear myself think, but for reasons I don’t fully understand, they ended their set with a new song. I can’t agree with that, sorry ladies, I can’t. The song in question was “Mesmerise” and rocked like a big rocky thing made out of rock, but why end with a new song. That takes some serious balls.

Well it shows what I know doesn’t it, not only did the room lap it all up but they demanded an encore too, so The Power of Love ended a blistering set.

That may have been the end of the gig but it wasn’t the end of the night, out of the PA came DIO’s Holy Diver, it sounded fantastic and I thought of the guys on the IMFC and started to laugh. I rushed the bar and started to take notes before forgetting what I’d just seen only to witness 50+ metal heads in fancy dress all dancing or trying to do the zombie dance, to Michael Jackson’s Thriller, if I hadn’t seen it I wouldn’t have believed it.

Lots of chatting, drinking, dancing, and somewhere after 1am I was finally ready to leave. Just as I pulling out of the car park I heard Saff shout, “Noggin” and she came over and gave me one final hug through the window, well not through the window, because the window is glass, the window was down… you know what I mean… “You smell lovely”, I said, “You smell of bananas or toffee”, I continued. “I’ve just had a banoffee shot”, she replied, before telling me a story about coming back from Scotland infected…  Eventually she staggered off back towards the pub. God she makes me laugh…
By now it was 01.30 and the fog had moved in. I got home at 04.30 and all I could do is hope that everyone had an easier trip than me.









Saturday 14th November 2015


The Courtesans, Hex


The Box, Crewe


Dear reader, were going to be here a while, so if you need to go to the bar then now is the time to do it…



Three down, one to go… Or is it…?


BASTARDS! They lied, they promised me that from now on there would be only one 2.30 and it would be in the PM, so up at 02.30 and off to Kent it was and for all the people that don’t know, Kent is in the completely opposite direction to Crewe. BUGGER!


One full shift, eight and half hours, 270 miles later, it is 11.00 and I’m leaving work and making my way to Crewe and surprisingly it was a nice and easy trip.



M6 J16, left onto the A500 and then right onto the B5071 “Jack Mills Way” and the first sign I see reads, “Welcome to Crewe”, well thank you very much, that’s very kind, the next sign I see reads, “LOW BRIDGE”, unable to simply pass by I decide to get out of my car and try to cheer up the low bridge… Unsure of my success I decided to carry on. A few hundred yards further down the road and I noticed Gresty Road, I parked the car, got out, picked up as many rocks as I could find and threw them in the direction of so many Walsall FC disasters before dropping my trousers and waggling my bare arse, before getting back in the car and driving off. Just a shame they were playing away at Bradford really…
What can I say about Crewe? Well, have you ever seen it on a holiday programme? If you’ve just stopped to think, “Have I ever seen Crewe on a holiday programme?” Then you are banned from reading any further… I did find out that “Miss Crewe” is not a beauty contest but a piece of advice.

By the time I’d parked up it was wet, cold, dreary, miserable, the oncoming evening was doing its best to suffocate daylight from the few remaining hours of the day and by half time I had seen everything of Crewe that I’d wanted to and was upstairs in McDonalds drinking coffee and looking at the half time football scores coming in. Later I would find out that Coventry won 1-3 and Gillingham won 3-1 so the table now reads Gillingham, Coventry, Walsall, our game was called off because of… international call ups… HA! HA! HA!  
As I made my to the train station (long story) I literally bumped into the band who were doing their load in. A quick round of hugs and were off doing our own thing, which for me meant finding my hotel, checking in and spending 20 minutes just standing under a power shower.
I was going to pre load before going to the gig but I couldn’t because I needed to go back to the venue to pick up a few bits and get them signed, which meant taking them back to the hotel which meant driving.

I blagged my way into the venue via the hotel on the corner. WOW! WHAT A VENUE! BLOODY HELL FIRE! I instantly wanted to go and start a band to so I could go and play there. All the above words I wrote about Crewe ignore, actually, no, don’t, they are all true, but “The Box” is the jewel in the crown and is worth every miserable experience Crewe can throw at you. GO AND VISIT THE BOX! I caught the tail end of the sound check but frankly I was too busy being awestruck by the venue to take any real notice of the band.
Just for the record the stage was about 4ft high, 15ft deep, 30ft wide, drum riser, PA, lightening rig, monitor and desk on the side of the stage with a mixing desk and light mixer at the rear of the room. Just turn up plug in a play.  

Sound check over, I grab what I need to and over walks Saff, bloody hell she looked good, “You look like Enya”, I said, “Oh thank you”, she replied before promptly bursting into an Enya song (she looked and sounded stunning, simply stunning, face and voice of an angel, body of a slut and I went all tingly in my special place – oh come on, you would wouldn’t you… please don’t get me wrong, she’d have to say please… and thank you… I’m not some cheap tart you know) anyway, once she’d finally finished serenading me with her Enya song I continued, “It wasn’t supposed to be a compliment…” Ha! Ha! Ha! I guess you had to be there but it was funny. She gave me the “Saff Glare” which to be honest is something I’m beginning to get used to receiving and my special tingly place crawled up inside my body where it was safe and warm and relatively free from the danger of being torn off…
Turns out, as we chatted away, that we have more in common than we had first thought, music, religion, aircraft, astronomy, groupies, touring and if she keeps my secret then I’ll keep hers, although at one point I did make mental note that I should never visit an art gallery with Saff and if I do, I should make sure that all the windows are closed…
While all of this was going on the band and crew had gone off to get food and had already returned, God can she talk.
Also, we got closer to whether I can claim Bishop Stortford as a “home town gig”, as I’d always known, Saff doesn’t live in Bishop Stortford but just up the road, what I hadn’t realised was that she lived at the end of Stansted 22/04. Like the crazy Cat Lady from The Simpson’s, except she collects aircraft. She’s completely barking mad. I don’t know if she realises just how funny she is. You know when people say that someone, “orbits another planet”… Well, she owns the other planet…
Saff. Wherever you are. I love you very much, but you scare the living bejesus out of me… hahaha…
Dear reader, I’m sure that by now you realise that when she sees me next I’m going to get slapped to the wrong side of the Dr Who Christmas Special, but I have a plan, a cunning plan, a plan so cunning you could pin a tail on it and call it a weasel, by the time you’re reading this, I’m already out of the country having sold all of my possessions and having done a runner. Someone please tell my daughter I love her… Don’t try to phone me, I’ve sold that too…

I made my way back to the hotel to dump my swag via a line of people queuing up outside in the rain. I promise you that there were people outside queuing in the rain. I couldn’t get my head around it, apart from being impressed I was also confused as to why they weren’t waiting in the bar. Maybe it’s a Crewe thing.
With some pre loading done I walked back to The Box in the rain.
YAWN! You all know what’s coming now don’t you, the support band, “Hex” and yet again The Courtesans have provided a support band worth getting wet for. Completely trapped in the 80s and making no apologies for it, they took being at ease in front of a crowd to a level of confidence you don’t normally get at this level. If they were American they would have been signed up by now.
Where was everyone? I continued to stand at the bar, it seemed such a waste of energy and time to walk away from the bar only to return to it later for more beer but as I stood there I couldn’t help but notice just how empty it was. The people of Crewe should go and hang themselves - sorry I meant - their heads in shame… They have the venue, they have the band, I’m not sure what else they need or want.
I continued to stand at the bar.

The band passed by me and stood at the top of the steps looking at the stage and the massive empty void that separated them both like Generals deciding how to attack the enemy.
The plan of attack decided they make their way to the stage, calmly and slowly walk up the steps onto the stage, pick up their instruments, turn to the crowd and at 22 hundred hours plus 20 they launched into the most vicious attack. There were going to be no prisoners taken tonight. Complete and total annihilation of your enemy, or your money back. Your satisfactory rights are not affected.

I took a few steps forward and stood were the band were a few minutes earlier and watched in stunned amazement at the onslaught that projected from the stage. “Come closer” instructed Sinead like an old fashioned Lion Tamer and just like good lion’s every one stood exactly where they were told to and come the end of the next song a roar of approval followed.
I continued to stand at the top of the steps. I lasted until the fourth song, “Out Of Spite”. I needed to hear it again and properly through a decent PA, before moving down to the front of the stage, where I took advantage of the space, probably to everyone else’s annoyance and took as many photos as I could, after all, I might not get this chance again and London certainly won’t offer me this kind of opportunity. 
Sorry, I’m not buying this. Nobody is that good. Seeing the band tonight was like seeing a band record a live radio show or a live TV show, each song having to be delivered as if their lives depended on it. And by God didn’t they deliver. It wasn’t just a case of playing to the back of the room, or getting everyone to “Come closer” and forcing them back with the sheer force of the delivery, it was more than it, it was songs, it was the songs that got bullied, battered, beaten, it was as if all the frustration of that empty room went into the crushing of the song and all of that energy spilled into the room.


They were fluid. They were liquid. They flowed. They were pure energy. They were playing from a place I don’t think I will ever be able to visit never mind try to describe.
He comes that DeLorean moment again and before I know it, it’s Thursday 21st April 1988, RUSH, NEC (Google “A Show Of Hands”). 
Oh God, I wish I could have got to that Delain support at the O2 Academy… and that stage…
Remember The Lexington gig? Well this will be the same and in years to come people will say that, “I was there…”
L to R, set lists from Evesham and Crewe
Notice how the last two songs have been swopped while “Sleaze”, “Blood Money” and “Hard Man To Kill” are all missing from the set. Can you imagine having those three songs in your back pocket…



As usual it was all over far too quickly and before I knew it the band were being mobbed at the merch’ stand and there were lots of very happy smiley people being very happy and smiley. 
At this point dear reader things for me become a little bit fuzzy. Well to be honest they were already well on the way to being fuzzy and I’d love to tell that a great night got even better as we all decamped into the hotel bar on the corner of the street and to be honest, that’s exactly what happened, I just don’t have much memory of it.
I do remember a voice somewhere and everyone on mass leaving the venue. I do remember walking down the stairs of the venue hugging and giggling with Sinead – God we are own worst enemies. I do remember finding the bar. I do remember Sinead offering to buy a round of drinks and there must have been ten to fifteen people around that table and when she asked me, “Do you want a drink?” I replied, “Coffee please…” She just gave me the “Saff Glare…” I guess you had to be there but it was SSSSSOOOOO funny… I do remember the couple from Solihull and listening to tales of putting “1917” onto reel to reel tape.

What I don’t remember are the photos that were taken on my phone, but I have found them. What I don’t remember are the scenes of semi naked drunken debauchery and taking photos of it on my camera, but I have found them too – even if I did spend a full twenty minutes trying to work out where the photos were taken and who was involved because there were… How many bodies in the photo...?

The images that I’ve found prove beyond any shadow of a doubt that I had a fantastic night. I just don’t remember any of it… ALCOHOL… WHY DO YOU MOCK ME SO!!!
GUTTED!
My last genuine memory of the night I have is the band being escorted back their hotel rooms because of a 7am leave and Saff being literally placed over the shoulder of the Tour Manager like a caveman, WOMEN – WANT – TAKE – NOW!!
Still, all of the above would explain why I woke up to find my pants on back to front, still, at least they were my own pants…
9am
Sunday morning going slow, I’m taking to the radio, clothes and records on the floor, the memories of the night before, out in club land having fun and now I’m hiding from the sun… ©Marc Almond, David James Ball.
11am
McDonalds and I’m not feeling very good. I’m feeling very emotional. Paris? Now I know some friends are safe while other are not. The hang over? The lack of sleep? The thought of driving three hours home? The thought that I’m only two hours from my daughter and instead of turning left I’m going to turn right?
2pm
Home. Kettle on. Clothes off. Everything goes in the wash.
And, I’ve finally decided that yes it is, three down and one to go… Look out Poland, here I come.

Je Suis Charlie.
Je Suis Walsall FC.
Je Suis Paris.
Je Suis Not Afraid.
To be continued…
Noggin xx