A Man Called Drake And His Project

(Part Two)

 

Day Four, Gig Three

(So near, yet so far)

 

Sunday 19^th May 2024

Manchester, Academy.

Bruce Dickinson, Black Smoke Trigger.

Where do I even begin with today? With 19^th May? If you saw it in a film you wouldn’t believe it and yet here you are about to read it in a blog. Some of you already know the story, for those that don’t, here’s a link.

https://nogginwalsall.blogspot.com/2023/04/scream-for-me-sarajevo-from-walsall-to.html

For those that didn’t clink on the link or don’t want the full story. 19^th May 1993, Iron Maiden, Manchester, G-Mex, is where I met Olly and Big Jon (now you really need to go and read those blogs, I can’t explain everything here). 19^th May 2001 my daughter’s birthday.

I couldn’t get a train from Glasgow to Manchester, well I could, but it would have meant changing trains 4 times or something silly, so I did the trip on National Express. It would take the same amount of time and it would be a fraction of the price, less than £20, result!

My daughter lives in Cumbria with her Mum and is about to graduate from Carlisle University. The coach from Glasgow to Manchester had two stops, Hamilton, and Carlisle.

Last night, as soon as the clock on my phone read 00.00 I took a screen shot and sent it to my daughter wishing her a happy birthday, now I was heading towards Carlisle on a coach.

The coach pulled into Carlisle on time and left on time leaving me no time to see my daughter. The coach then drove straight passed her student house on Warwick Rd. So near, yet so far.

This is the life you live when you’re on the road, whether you are in the band, the crew, or a fan, you make sacrifices all day every day. Every significant day that you can name, anyone in a band or the crew has missed it, and travelling fans are no different, from births to funerals and every date in between. As I mentioned before, we’re all just travelling under the umbrella of music.

Now I found myself back in Manchester, on 19^th May, my daughter’s birthday, in the city where I met Olly and Big Jon, who I’d later do the Bruce tours with… etc… etc… etc… weird how life works out isn’t it.

The queue outside the Academy was massive, it wasn’t like this last time Bruce played here. The last time he played here he played the Hop & Grape, a tiny little venue inside the building next door that holds about six people.

Fan boys. Wankers the lots of them. Where were these people in the 90’s? If they weren’t old enough then that’s fine, but most of the people in that queue where so obviously old enough. As I walked passed the queue I saw one Bruce shirt, lots of Maiden shirts, mainly from the last tour, but only one Bruce shirt.

At Wolverhampton I saw one Skunkworks shirt, being won by a female stepping out of the lift, we spoke briefly, I saw two Balls shirts and one Chemical Wedding shirt.

At Glasgow I saw one Tattoo Millionaire shirt, the same as the one I was wearing, it was being worn by Gary who bought it for £50 online as he was only three months old in 1990. He’s seeing Bruce play in Luxemburg on his birthday. I met him in Argyle Street as I walked back to my hotel.

If you know anything at all about T Shirts and T Shirt culture you’ll fully understand the significance of what I’ve just written.

I collected my ticket and neatly side stepped an even bigger queue than Wolverhampton. After reading what I’ve just written do you think that there was even the slightest feeling of guilt in queue jumping. Was there fuck!

Once inside I went to work on my blog, the game now really was a foot.

I eventually found myself stage right in the hope of witnessing the pit and to try and grab a photo of something different. I did. By now I was in full on blog mode. I’d been struggling to find my angle, except I hadn’t, I’d already found my angle, I just wasn’t listening, not properly. I was also looking and not seeing. Talk about being caught in the eye of the storm. It was all happening around me and all I had to do was stand still and pause. So that’s what I did. I stood still and paused.

After the gig I saw Gary who I meet in Glasgow last night and as promised he was wearing his bright red Bruce shirt. As we were chatting Andhe and Sam ran over to me and handed me the Bruce set list. I almost burst into tears.

I called them back and tried to explain about 19^th May, G-Mex, my daughter’s birthday, Manchester, one million words poured out of my mouth at a million miles an hour, I was tripping over my words and in the end I just said sorry, I’ll explain it all another day.

I tried to offer them my thanks, but you know something, I could have used a million words a lot slower, but I still don’t think I could have explained my gratitude adequately. Is there ever a time when the words “thank you” say everything you need to say?

Andhe, Sam, THANK YOU!

Remember when after Glasgow I asked if it would be all downhill from here? Well, I never thought that I’d see the day when Manchester would give Glasgow a run for its money, but they did. That’s three gigs in a row now, three. Three gigs were I’d struggle to pick the best. Glasgow, would just shade it, but maybe only because it was Glasgow on a Saturday night.   

As I’d briefly alluded to, I was doing these gigs strictly under doctor’s orders and by the end of the Manchester gig I was hurting, so off the pub we all went. Two very quick pints of ale in the hope of killing the pain before walking across the road to my hotel.

With perfect symmetry, Bruce Dickinson gig 40 Black Smoke Trigger gig 04

I got a Facefuck friend request from Bruce Dickinson tonight.

 

Day Five, Travel Day

(I’m so glad I packed my invisibility cloak)

 

Monday 20^th May 2024

Manchester to Hertfordshire.

Maybe I always had my angle.

As I said earlier, all I had to do was stand still and pause and that’s exactly what I found myself doing at Piccadilly train station.

Bruce T Shirts buzzed around me like bees in a summer meadow. Whizzing passed me, rushing to catch trains, in every direction, like one of those time lapse videos when you see one person standing still and everyone else becomes a blur of movement.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many Bruce T Shirts in one place at one time. I just stood transfixed giggling to myself. Completely invisible to them. No one bothered me. No one spoke to me. No one recognised me. No one came up to and said, “Are you Noggin?” 

I was wearing a Hearts & Hand Grenades T Shirt, their T Shirts became my invisibility cloak and wore them for the whole tour.  

And there it was. Plain as day. I’d made myself invisible, because I no longer wanted to be associated with them. I’d escaped.

There it was, Piccadilly train station, the biggest mirror I’d ever looked into and it was telling me true, there was no hiding from it, the Albatross fell from my neck, the weight I’d been carrying around simply flew away. I hope the Albatross lives a long and happy life.

I still wore a Bruce T Shirt at the gigs and I will continue to do so. I’m more than happy to spend all day chatting about Bruce records and Bruce gigs, while at a Bruce gig, otherwise, please leave me alone and don’t mention him. 

While we’re on the subject of being invisible. We were three gigs into a UK tour of six gigs and no one to my knowledge had seen Bruce. Everyone was commenting on it and not in a good way. Lets be honest, everyone was pretty much moaning about how he wasn’t coming out after gigs signing stuff.

Me being me, said, “Well, why should he?”

Them. “Well, Arry does it…”

Me. “That’s because Arry is playing pubs and clubs…” 

Them. “That’s no excuse.”

Me. “Yes it is, when Bruce was playing pubs and clubs, when all the fan boys had turned their backs on him, he was coming out and chatting, taking us to the pub, or the hotel, or flying, or to his house in some cases… now all these people want a piece of him, just because he’s back in Maiden, explain to me again how the fans who turned their back on him have the right to meet him…”

And on and on our conversations went. 

I love my mates. We are allowed to argue our points face to face, until we are blue in the face, but we are still mates. When our opinions differ, so be it. We are still pals. We still go up the bar and share a beer a or two. And that’s how it should be.

I offer my opinion. They offer their opinion. Then we both agree that I was right. It’s very simple.

You know, it would save us all a lot of time if we all just agreed that I was right. I’m always right. Have you ever known me to be wrong? Actually, don’t answer that.

 

Day Six, Gig Four

(Today’s password is Rec Room, Buffalo, NY)

 

Tuesday 21^st May 2024

Swansea, Arena.

Bruce Dickinson, Black Smoke Trigger.

 In Swansea. In pain and feeling very sorry for myself.

Today’s invisibility cloak was provided by Rec Room. My good pals from Hearts & Hand Grenades, who are on tour in the USA supporting some band I’ve never heard of, are playing a home town gig tonight at the Rec Room. If I wasn’t doing this Bruce tour I’d be over there. If I can’t be with them then they could be with me.

https://nogginwalsall.blogspot.com/2024/02/the-rec-room-buffalo-ny-and-story.html

I hadn’t been to Paddington station since London 2012 when me and my daughter went to Cardiff to see some of the football at the Millenium Stadium, and explored Cardiff Castle. 

I travelled to Swansea with the ghosts of adventures past. I had a moment to myself and a little weep. I pulled myself together, walked into the next carriage and sacrificed a virgin. Hail Satan!

I briefly met up with Mick at the pub before going to venue, Mick continued stuffing his face.

I  got to venue just time for the skies open up, and when it rains in Swansea it rains. Turns out that I’d been misinformed and I shouldn’t have queued up in the rain. Eventually I got to where I needed to be and by now I was starting to suffer and it was starting to show. 

The staff at the box office offered to swop my standing ticket for a seating ticket, not only did I get offered a seating ticket but an aisle seat too. WOW! Stephen and Denise, thank you.

They just basically said either stand or sit, it’s your call, if you need anything just ask one of the security team.

As I leant on the barrier I could see one of the security team talking into his Captain Scarlet head set. I can lip read. It was me he was talking about. I made myself known and I was well looked after. This was a very interesting development. I felt a new angle appearing.

Tonight wasn’t just a new venue for me but it was my first gig in Swansea too. Well as a punter anyway. I worked a BBC Biggest Weekend with Wolf Alice and a Stereophonics gig here a few years ago.

What a stunning venue. Well worth a visit. Can we come here again please. Thanks. A modern venue with modern staff and modern mentally to in house security. Customers first bullshit and acting like a total cock last. I can not recommend this venue enough.

Would it be a fair critique that the gig got a little lost inside the vast cavernous surroundings? Royal Albert Hall anyone?  

I found myself chatting to BST at the merch after gig, I say chatting, I basically interviewed them. Question after question after question. Sorry about that guys. But I needed the info.

Arguably, the most interesting answer was they only had 400 plectrums made for the tour and we all agreed that it wasn’t enough. So, if you managed to get a Black Smoke Trigger plectrum on this tour, give it a few years and it’ll be worth a small fortune. You’ll be able to sell it on eBay for 50, 60, maybe even 70p.   

Speaking of Black Smoke Trigger, they filmed tonight’s gig, which was great, at least they didn’t fall into the predictable trap of filming London.  

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hurting by the time the gig was over because I was. I’d offered my thanks to the staff on the barrier who’d looked out for me during the gig before making my way the to the merch.

Mick suggested going to the pub for liquid pain killer. I agreed.

I got a Facefuck friend request from three different Bruce Dickinson’s tonight.

 

Day Seven, Travel Day

(Strange the things that happen at a train station)

 

Wednesday 22^th May 2024

Swansea to Hertfordshire.

While killing time at Swansea train station, I started to take photos of Gran, there was nothing special in it as I do it all the time.

When suddenly, a member of staff appeared from over my left shoulder and gave Gran her very own ticket. I just fell about the place laughing. I guess you had to be there but it was funny.

I introduced the member of staff to Gran. I explained about Gran, where she was born, why I take her on the road, going into First Class and onto the flight deck of a 777 on the way to Buffalo.

The cult of Gran continues to grow.

While I remember, how does fuck off sound?

Let me make this as clear as I can. No, I was not on the guest list. No, I did not have passes. Have I made that clear enough?

If people want to ask a direct question, Are you on the guest list or do you have passes? I think that’s a straight, honest, and open question. To which my answer was no.

But there were people out there that just presumed that I was on the guest list or just presumed that I had passes, and it drove me mad. It was the assumption that some way, somehow, I would just instantly be put on the guest list or given passes. Like I’d just walk up, knock on the door, and say, remember me, giz a pass.

They would say, But, you’re on the guest list, right? Or they would say, But, you’ve got passes, right? And it was being said in a negative way, with a twist, with venom. 

People presumed and actually said, but you were on the guest list in the 90’s, you had passes in the 90’s. You’re right I did, but that was 30 years ago and secondly, and we’d actually bought tickets in the 90’s.

Let me make this as clear as I can.

When we (because it wasn’t just me) did all of those gigs back in the 90’s we bought tickets in advance just like everyone else. Bruce was gracious enough to give us passes as a thank you for making the effort, for not turning our backs on him like others had, it was literally his way of saying thank you. He looked after us like we looked after him.

Having the passes just made doing the gigs easier because we could go in early and use the toilets, or stay inside after show and just chill.

It was twisted logic, what they were saying was, but you had passes then, why not now. Were they having a pop at Bruce or not believing me? I’m still not sure.

Rant over.

But you can still fuck off. If you wouldn’t mind.

Thanks.

 

Day Eight, Gig Five

(“Hello Noggin…”)

 

Thursday 23^rd May 2024

Nottingham, Rock City.

Bruce Dickinson, Black Smoke Trigger.

Nottingham. OMFG! I could fill a whole blog banging on about what happened today. But I won’t.

I arrived at Nottingham to find rumours of altered door and show times. I bumped into Andhe who confirmed it. We all agreed that we needed to get this information onto social media via personal and official sites, and quickly, so we did.

I met up with Olly (yes that one) we went to the Tap n’ Tumbler pub around the corner to wait for his brother Tom and we confirmed our usual, mixing desk after the show. Why is there a photo booth in the pub? Bizarre!

I popped back to the car and then on the way back to the pub I promptly got distracted. Sorry Olly.

While chatting to security, they sensed something was wrong and I explained about my recent surgery and quick as a flash they said, pop down to the front of the queue and speak to our colleagues and they will get you in early. I instantly thought of Glasgow, while thoughts of the previous gig in Swansea also got me thinking. I went into blog overdrive. This is an angle that wound make a protractor weep.

I walked down to the main doors, no staff to be seen.

By now, I was more than a little curious as to the early access for disabled people, who qualifies as disabled, how it works, and why should I be given access to this. I had so many questions that I wanted to ask. It was just a question of finding the right person to ask.

I chatted to mates who were at the front of the queue while all the time keeping an eye on the ever growing queue for early access, which at one point was larger than the biped queue (thanks to Leonne for that description).

Speaking of Leonne, I ended up chatting to a girl in a wheel chair who was with her son Kris. Fuck. And I thought I could talk.   

We spent the rest of our time together swapping stories, revolving around a simple theme of telling each other our individual stories and experiences and me asking questions.

At one point I said something along the lines of, “Is that a really stupid question?” “No, but you’re the only one brave enough to ask” was Leonne’s reply. That’s when I knew I was on a winner. Not only had I found the right person, but I was going to be able to ask difficult questions and I was going to get a truthful answer. The ability to listen without prejudice combined with the courage to ask awkwardly painful questions.

Remember The Red Thread of Fate? Now do you see how it works?

What an education that was. Forget being a nurse, she needs to be a teacher. She needs to get into schools, actually, no, I’m wrong. She needs to get into politics. Whoever her local MP is they need Leonne on their team.

People like Leonne need to be positions of authority, they need to be policy creators and decision makers. The world would be a better place.

She taught me and told me many things, and I mean many, but the one lesson I will take away more than any other lesson is this one.

The main reason venues have early access is to stop them being sued. If they let everyone in at the same time, those that are less mobile will get pushed over, injured, and hurt, and that ultimately leads to law suits. By allowing early access, those less mobile can get in at their own speed and once everyone is in and settled, the main doors can open.

If ever there was a perk to having a disability, then surly this is it, right? There I go again with those awkward and difficult questions and observations.

Not only did that make perfect sense, what I wasn’t expecting is that I was to witness it later. Here’s what happened.

As we continued to chat, I mentioned my surgery, and being a Nurse, she knew what my body had, and was still going through. I also mentioned my experiences at Glasgow and Swansea. 

As the doors opened Leonne asked, “Are you coming in with us?” Well, I wasn’t going to do that, but I instantly saw an opportunity to witness something.

“Can I watch how you get up?” as she started to get up out of her wheel chair and onto crutches to navigate the stairs leading into the venue, “I’m just like anyone getting up” she replied, “No, you’re not” I countered.

I watched as much as I could, I tried to stay out the way as much as I could, and I tried to remember as much as I could, knowing full well that in a few days I’d have to find a way to explain this in a blog.

I spoke a member of staff about getting access because I don’t have the Ticketbastard App. But he was more concerned with chatting on his phone and he just let me in. Um. Of all the days to forget my thermonuclear weapons. Good job I’d actually paid to get in and I wasn’t up to no good.

I watched as Kris folded up Leonne’s wheel chair, the staff to my observations, were very clam, helpful, friendly, and before I knew it we were stood at the bottom of the stairs.

I really needed a piss, so I said my goodbyes, mentioned the mixing desk after gig, and went for a piss. Then it happened. I stepped out of the toilets, turned right, and started to slowly stagger up the stairs, at which point I heard a rush from behind me. The doors had been opened.   

I got totally splattered across the stairs. I’m telling you right now, everyone rushing passed me frankly couldn’t give a fuck and didn’t give a fuck. I got splattered.

Now I got it. The one thing being ill teaches you is humility, it shows you how vulnerable you are, and as much as you like to empathise until you are in that position you can only sympathise.

Some of the people that splattered me on the stairs were people I’d call friends, fellow fans, travelling under the umbrella of music, well I guess I learnt another lesson.

When Leonne asked, “Are you coming in with us?” I felt cheap, a cheat, I felt imposter syndrome. I didn’t now.

At some point I’m going to get better, well again, I’m going to go back to my fully functioning biped world. I’m going to do everything I can told hold on to empathy.  

“Hello Noggin…” said Bruce from the stage, then he laughed, before the band played Tears Of The Dragon. He knows I hate that song. GIT! Still, it was a great ego trip and didn’t it piss the fan boys off. OMFG! Didn’t it piss the fan boys off. Love it. Thank you mate.     

At the mixing desk after the show is the place to be. Olly, Tom, and Black Smoke Trigger all rocked up and we all decide that going to the pub was the best option. I’d been inviting BST for a beer all week and now they were up for it, “You can buy us that beer…”they said, so off to the Tap n’ Tumbler we all went.

By the time I rocked up the pub was in full on party mode.

Right, who wants a beer? Is probably not the most sensible question to ask in a pub full of drunken bums. So off to the bar I went with Andhe as I needed an extra pair of hands.

Once we got to the bar Andhe took me to one side and said, the drinks are on us, we have a tab, thank you for being there every night, we all appreciate your support… WOW! Just how classy is that. That’s big boy league. Just for the record because I was driving I had soda water and lime.

I asked the band to sign my Hertford poster. I got introduced to their manager. Miranda rocked up. Loads of photos were taken. I lost Olly and Tom for the second time that day and speaking of photo’s…

I then got introduced to a game that Black Smoke Trigger play. How many people can you get into a photo booth. So that’s why there’s a photo booth in the pub. What a brilliant idea. 

And finally (and I’ve asked permission to write this). In the middle of a wonderful evening. The band took out a mobile phone and showed me the album artwork, “You’re the first person to see this…” they said. *

Seriously, where do you even begin to pick that apart? Remember at the start when I banged on about just being travellers on the road, looking out for each other, not being a fan boy. To be shown that level of friendship and trust. EEK!

That Ladies and Gentlemen is how it works. If I’d have acted like a fan boy at any point on the tour it would have been game over. If they’d have acted like prima donnas at any point on the tour it would have been game over. Respect and trust are earnt. We are always travelling on a two way street and we are always nothing more than travellers on the road travelling under the umbrella of music.

Actually, if I’d have had more sense I would have asked to take a photo of the image next to my phone showing the date and then after the album was released put the image on here.     

I got another Facefuck friend request from another Bruce Dickinson tonight. Did I ever tell you my Rod Halford story? No? Ask me about it next time we meet.

 

* The reason I asked is simple. “What happens on the road, stays on the road,” isn’t just a saying, it’s a rule. There is a very big chance that someone out there will say “Why were you showing people the artwork?” usually an Executive or Manager somewhere, and it will kick off.

Being shown the artwork to the new album and then telling my mates in the queue down the local dogging site as we wait our turn is different to me plonking it all over the interweb.

It’s all about trust and respect.

Day Nine, Gig Six

(Are you even a fan?)

 

Friday 24^th May 2024

London, O2 Forum, Kentish Town.

Bruce Dickinson, Black Smoke Trigger.

Last night of the UK tour. It’s been fun.

I really was dreading this tour and I’m more than happy to report that I was wrong.

A few weeks before the tour, Roy Z was replaced with two guitarists. If that doesn’t set the alarm bells ringing then nothing will. But it worked. It worked so well, by complete fluke they managed to stumble into a perfect line up. Long live this line up.

I’d love to see this line up play live again. I’d love to see this line up write an album together. I won’t hold my breath. It was fun while it lasted.

I stand by what I wrote on Facefuck about Bruce his Roy Z bromance.

https://johnmcmurtrie.myportfolio.com/opening-page

The support band were the bollocks and great fun to interact with on the road, including Andhe and Sam.

I was even wrong about the fan boys, actually, no I wasn’t, but they weren’t as annoying as I thought they’d be, actually, yes they were. So apart from the fan boys this was a perfect tour.

Can we do this again please? And soon. Thanks.

We had a Skunkworks reunion today in the pub. It was the first time that we had been together since 1996. We need to do this again soon. December 14^th maybe? 30^th anniversary. Just saying like.

I got into the venue by using my newly discovered trick of neatly side stepping the long queue. I didn’t get a ticket though. I went for a walk around the venue, trying to decide where to watch the gig from. When suddenly from over my right hand shoulder I heard that familiar scream of “Noggin!”

It was Diane. I walked over and I decided to spend the gig with Diane and her daughter Katie. They had early access and were on an elevated section, stage left next to the bar. That’s unlike Diane and Katie to be next a bar.  

Speaking of which, it was Mark Rowley’s birthday today, Diane appeared from the bar with a round of drinks and we raised a glass to our friend, to everyone’s friend, Mark Rowley RIP. If he’d had been there tonight, he would have kissed me full on the lips and no, he wouldn’t have shaved.

After the gig I made my way to the mixing desk.

Olly, Big Jon appeared like magic.

Diane and Katie made their way out of the building but not before Bridget, Margaret and Alex rocked up for a photo.

I hunted Andhe and Sam down and I couldn’t believe my luck in finding them, I said thank you which is difficult when they have a job to do.

Then who should I bump into at the back of the room but BST, no, let me give them their correct title, Black Smoke Trigger. We hugged, we said what we needed to say and then Josh reached inside his jacket and produced a signed drum stick, before handing it to me. Shit the bed!

He then promised to show me how to roll a drum stick through my fingers, I’ve got more change of rolling down a slope, little fat fuck that I am.

I also got a chance for their manager to say thank you to me again for getting in early to support his band Ha! Ha! Ha! I also thanked him for making this tour happen, whether it was a favour or buying onto the tour, I was grateful.

Back at the pub we continued to chat and laugh the night away.

Eventually everyone went off to their hotels and while me Diane and Katie went off for food.

I found myself at Tufnell Park tube station tapping the wall with my drum stick when it happened. Are you Noggin? Skunkworks? I smiled. Yes. Hello.

Apparently, because I’d said on Facefuck that Bruce had murdered “Faith” at Wolverhampton (which he did, and the band even admitted) I wasn’t a fan. WTF!?

I asked, if I wasn’t a fan then why would I be doing every night on the tour. His response? “Fame!”

What a cunt.

Can you believe he then sent me a friend request and I actually accepted it. But not before taking a selfie with me and posting it on the Skunkworks page.

I even tried to make sure he got on the correct tube while I made my way home. I need my head looking at.

He’d been drinking. He was speaking English as a second language. So let me cut him some slack. And in his defence, he was only asking a question that I’d asked myself.

Why exactly was I doing this?

 

What you’ve just read are some of the reasons why.

 

Forever and always inspired by Number 6

Be seeing you…

 

Albatross!

Been seeing him...

01. 20-06-1990. Nottingham, Rock City.

02. 21-06-1990. Walsall, Junction 10.

03. 23-06-1990. Glasgow, Barrowland Ballroom.

04. 24-06-1990. Manchester, International II.

05. 26-06-1990. Birmingham, Hummingbird.

06. 27-06-1990. London, Astoria. (Maiden played The Trooper)

07. 28-06-1990. London, Astoria.

08. 13-10-1994. Buckley, Tivoli.

09. 14-10-1994. Norwich, Oval.

10. 15-10-1994. Dudley, JBs.

11. 17-10-1994. Bristol, Bierkeller.

12. 18-10-1994. London, Marquee Club. (Recorded for LIVE LP, end of tour party, passes)

13. 07-04-1995. Nottingham, Rock City. (Guest list every night)

14. 08-04-1995. Bradford, Rio’s.

15. 10.04-1995. Glasgow, Garage.

16. 11-04-1995. Dudley, JBs.

17. 12-04-1995. Bristol, Bierkeller.

18. 14-04-1995. London, Astoria. (End of tour party)

19. 05-06-1996. Portsmouth, Wedgewood Rooms.

20. 07-06-1996. Nottingham, Rock City.

21. 08-06-1996. Wolverhampton, Wulfrun Hall.

22. 09-06-1996. Glasgow, Cathouse.

23. 10-06-1996. Bradford, Rio’s.

24. 12-06-1996. Manchester, Hop and Grape.

25. 14-06-1996. London, LA II.

26. 20-06-1996. Norwich, Oval.

00. 20-04.1997. Birmingham, Rock Café. (Acoustic gig)

00. 21-04-1997. Sheffield, Wapentake Bar. (Acoustic gig)

00. 22-04-1997. Brierley Hill, Rock Café .(Acoustic gig)

27. 08-08-1997. Nottingham, Rock City. (Bruce’s birthday gig)

28. 26-10-1997. Wolverhampton, Civic Hall. (Supporting Lynyrd Skynyrd)

29. 29-10-1997. London, Royal Albert Hall. (Supporting Lynyrd Skynyrd)

30. 01-12-1998. Manchester, Hop and Grape. (VIP laminates)

31. 03-12-1998. Norwich, Waterfront.

32. 04-12-1998. Wolverhampton, Wulfrun Hall.

33. 05-12-1998. Nottingham, Rock City.

34. 07-12-1998. Cambridge, Junction.

35. 08-12-1998. London, Astoria II. (End of tour party)

36. 06-07-2002. Graspop, Belgium.

37. 03-08-2002. Wacken, Germany.

??. 10-12-2011. Canterbury Rocks at Christmas, Canterbury Cathedral.

??. 02-04-2012. Buddy Rich 25th Anniversary Memorial Concert, London Palladium.

38. 16-05-2024. Wolverhampton, Civic Halls.

39. 18-05-2024. Glasgow, Barrowland Ballroom.

40. 19-05-2024. Manchester, Academy.

41. 21-05-2024. Swansea, Arena.

42. 23-05-2024. Nottingham, Rock City.

43. 24-05-2024. London, O2 Forum, Kentish Town.

 

The End

 ©Noggin 2024

A Man Called Drake And His Project (Part One)

 

A Man Called Drake And His Project

(Part One)

 

Preface

I wasn’t going to write a blog for the Mandrake UK Tour. Then I was asked to write a blog for the Mandrake UK Tour.

Well that pretty much deals with that.  

 

Introduction.

The story you are about to read may not be true. But it isn’t a lie either.

The telling of a story is easy, it usually travels along the well-worn path of, Once upon a time… followed by a bit in the middle… ending with, and they all lived happily ever after, or, they all died in a terrifying blood bath. Depending on the style of story you’re telling.

The difficulty is deciding where you start the story. That is where I find myself.

Like a genealogist looking at a family tree, how far back you look before you stop, turn around, and start to tell the tale of a family history.

I choose to start here.

 

2023 AD

I’d always wondered what I’d do if Bruce toured again, and 2023 AD was going to afford me the opportunity to find out.

If you’ve ever had the privilege to listen to members of the security services talk, they will tell you about chatter, about how they gather information, about how knowing what not to listen to is often more important than the information they pass on up through the chain of command.

And weirdly enough that is where I have found myself since 1998. Let me try to explain.

The last time Bruce toured was in 1998 to promote the Chemical Wedding album, and apart from a few one off personal appearances, the only other gigs he did was in 2002 when he played six festivals across Europe.  

So, every year, almost without fail, the rumour mill would start up, Bruce solo album this, Bruce solo tour that, and God forbid that there should be too long a time between Maiden albums and tours, then it would really kick off.

None of it was true. It was never true. Not even close to being true. I know. Hence, I would just roll my eyes.  

But this time, this time it was different. The chatter I was hearing in 2023 AD was different. Not only does a good operative need to learn what not to listen too, they also need to listen to the silence. The Silence I was hearing was deafening. All of my usual channels were firmly closed. It seemed the game really was afoot.

Not only was Bruce going to release and album he was also going tour. Or was he?

 

Smart Phones and the Interweb

Bruce was always very public about not having a smart phone or using social media. Him and me both. But there’s only so long you can try to hold back the tide. Eventually you simply have to admit that being apart from the modern world isn’t just frustrating, it actually places you at a disadvantage. 

So, when I started to see social media accounts claiming to be Bruce, from Bruce, acting on behalf of Bruce, I was more than a little bit dismissive. Having said that, not so much that I didn’t refocus, because that’s exactly what I did. 

By the time the summer of 2023 AD arrived I was following every social media page I could find and as soon as I could, I signed up for official mail shots.

I was right not to roll my eyes.

 

Music journalists and paedophiles

Summer drifted gently into autumn, a UK tour was announced, tickets went on sale, in venues bigger than anything he’d played in the 90’s (except 1990 of course when he was still in Maiden) and three of the venues sold out quickly. Such is the power of the Maiden fan boys. I wonder where they were in the 90’s.

In the middle of all the excitement I noticed a PO Box address at the bottom of an advert. Um… I Googled it. Double Um… I wrote to the address. Dear Mr Mandrake and your Project. I’d like to volunteer for any future experiments etc… etc… etc…

Sometime later I received a reply.

Then before I knew it, it was the spring of 2024, not only were the Maiden fan boys wanking themselves silly at the thought of a Bruce release, so were the press. Maybe they should have got together and had a group wanking session and had their own mass release. Wankers the lot of them.

I mean really, is there anything worse than a music journalist? Other than a paedophile. I think I’d rather be a fucking paedophile to be honest. Too harsh? Really? OK, feel free to send me a link of a review of the Mandrake Project that isn’t a wank fest… Feel free to show me a genuine honest open critique of the album. Did no one bother to remember why Bruce felt that he needed to part company with Maiden?

All they want to do is say the same positive bullshit so they get the next interview and blag in on the guest list.

It’s at times like this that I miss Tommy Vance. Who am I kidding. I’ve always missed Tommy Vance.   

Were you my friend when I belonged?
Were you my friend when I was strong?
Were you my friend when I was weak?
Were you my friend when I was crawling calling… out of my head?

Meltdown written by Bruce Dickinson, Alex Dickson.

 

Who the fuck are Black Smoke Trigger?

In the spring of 2024, an extra date was added to the UK tour, in Wolverhampton of all places, not that the venue or city mattered, what mattered was it now completely stuffed up my travel plans and booking time off from work. Thanks Bruce. Git!

And who the fuck are Black Smoke Trigger? And just how stupid a name is that? Black Smoke Trigger, My Arse! Fucks sake. I just rolled my eyes and thought here we go again, another support band that no one has ever heard of and never will again. Six times I’m going to have to see them. Deep fucking joy. 

Isn’t You Tube a wonderful tool, especially when you manage to block those annoying adverts that stop you doing your research. 

I don’t do video, it’s just not my thing, but the Mission Impossible style images of The Auckland Sky Tower were striking, as was the girl in red dress. Was it the same girl in the different videos? As for Caught In The Undertow, don’t try that at home kids, although getting a fully working ocean into your house might be a bit of a challenge, so maybe no need to worry.

Whatever (1996 support) was going on here, there were some very smart minds at work and some serious money being spent. I stopped rolling my eyes at them and started rolling them at myself and my attitude. I was wrong. Being wrong was going to become a running theme.

I’m going to see them six times. Result!

Actually, as a foot note, after an hour or so on You Tube, I still didn’t really, truly, get Black Smoke Trigger, but in their defence and to my own conviction, I was the same with GnR, I was given access to Appetite For Destruction in 1987, the year of its release, and I just didn’t get it until 1989. It took two whole years for me to catch up. I even saw them at Donington 1988 (RIP Alan & Landon – do your research) and they still didn’t properly connect. See you in 2026 lads…

And I still don’t know why they are called Black Smoke Trigger.

 

The Red Thread of Fate

In Chinese mythology, there is something called The Red Thread of Fate. The red thread bonds you to a soul so that you are always destined to meet.

Ever wondered why you always seem to meet people that you truly connect with, as if you’ve known them all of your life? Like there’s a greater power at work instead of it just being complete random fluke.

Learn to notice the red thread.

Albatross!

I was a very apprehensive before the tour started. I’ve never hidden my loathing for fan boys and music journalists and I knew that this tour would be saturated with them, and I wasn’t sure how their reappearance would interact with the tour and me. I knew that I simply wouldn’t be able to keep my fat mouth shut or my opinions to myself. 

There was also an elephant in the room that I needed to deal with. Me. What about me? I always wondered what I’d do if Bruce ever toured again, guess what, I was about to find out, like a mirror when you ask it tells you true (Inside The Machine), there was simply no running away from this.

Questions buzzed around my head and formed a neat queue and waited patiently for their turn to ask their question while holding a mirror for me to look into as I answered.

Are any of us the same person we were 30 + years ago? The first Bruce UK tour was 1990 the last was 1998. Bruce has moved on and so have I. Or have we? What would I do if he ever toured the UK again? Why am I doing UK tour? Am I living in the past? One last roll of the dice? Am I trying to re live past adventures? Is it like the Springsteen song Glory Days? Just wishing for the wink of a young girl’s eye?

I’ve only missed four head line shows in the UK, I didn’t set out to do it, it sort of happened by accident and if it hadn’t been for meeting Olly and Big Jon on 19^th May 1993 it wouldn’t have happened at all (more on this later – another blog explaining that day in greater detail is available).

Have I made a rod for my own back, a cross to bear, unable to put it down? Do I continue to carry it around like a fucking great Albatross?

Had I actually already stored away that weight, and in reality, I wasn’t strong enough to pick it up and carry it around again.

 

What a cunt!

Have you ever read anything so self-important in your life? What a cunt. But I promise you those thoughts and many more went through my head.

It’s not like I’m taking part in D-Day or something, it’s just a hand full of gigs. Fuck’s sake. 

I gave myself a jolly good talking to and I made a promise to myself, not to be as self-absorbed in the future. But I can tell you one thing, that albatross was, and still is very real. Schrodinger’s cat?

Let the Red Thread of Fate stitch us all together for one last time, and if it does end up being the last time, so be it…

“I’ll see ya Monday morning… Anyway, I’m coming back…”

Warm Up Gig

(Sorry, I Lied)

 

Wednesday 15^th May 2024

Hertford, Corn Exchange.

Black Smoke Trigger, Ascari, Almamor.

 

You know when I said I’m going to see Black Smoke Trigger six times? Sorry, I lied. I’m going to see them seven times.

Just like the good old days of secret gigs and warm up shows, BST did a warm up gig at Hertford, Corn Exchange. I couldn’t believe my luck. Literally in the next big town up the valley. Six quid and three bands. That’s two quid a band. What’s not to love?

As far as warm up gigs go, it went well. I was genuinely impressed with all three bands. Out of the two support bands I personally preferred Almamor. They are local to me too. I found a new band, that are local to me, thanks to a band from the other side of the planet, I mean, could they be from any further away and yet they introduce me to a band from the next town. Weird how music works isn’t it. Red Thread?

Almamor also gave me their CD for free. I even offered to pay for it, but they were so chuffed at being asked to play, that they gave their CD away (that rhymed, write that down quick. I’m a poet ay I?). In fact, they gave their CD away to anyone that was near enough to be handed one. I have a wonderful photo of BST being handed the said CD and then asking Almamor to sign it. What’s not to love.

I introduced myself to BST and their crew, Andhe and Sam, and I made them a promise that I’d get in early to see them every night and get down the front whenever I could, surgery allowing.

The night dissolved into the same old same old. New friends made. Contact details swopped. Plans for future gigs made.

All in all. Not only was tonight a good night, but if this is a sign of things to come, this tour was going to be great fun and the apprehension I had for the tour was going to lead to nothing.

Day One, Gig One

(I’m not doing this tour for fun you know… this is strictly doctors’ orders)

 

Thursday 16^th May 2024

Wolverhampton, Civic Halls.

Bruce Dickinson, Black Smoke Trigger.

I got to bed at 04.30 still buzzing from the night before, grinning like a loon, a bit like a kid on Xmas Eve. I’d gone from having genuine worries about the tour to champing at the bit. I just couldn’t wait for my alarm clock to go off, having said that, I so needed sleep. I’d have killed for it too.

My alarm went off at 07.00 and by 10.30 I was at Euston Station, which on reflection, was a little bit early for my train to Wolverhampton, which was due to leave at 12.16 and to be honest, that was the last time my train was on time.

Things then started to go a little bit strange. Firstly, I got a message from Ranjit, who it turns out was on the same train, the 12.16 out of Euston. Secondly, the train got delayed. Well, there’s nothing strange about that, it happens all the time. But then it got delayed again. Thirdly, Kevin rocked up and guess what, no, he was booked on the following train. Then the train got delayed again. And again.

By now the concourse at Euston was filling up, people were running out of space and patience. Ranjit and Kevin both work on the trains so they began to work out the logistics as to what was probably happening behind the scenes and plan our escape from Euston and find a north bound train.

Our 12.16 eventually departed one hour late.

Just when you think things couldn’t get any stranger, it turns out that me and Ranjit are not only booked onto the same train, we’re booked at the same table. Then just as the doors on the train are closing Kevin staggers into the compartment and plonks himself down next to Ranjit. He’s decided not to chance getting the next train.

If Carlsberg did train travel. 

Our train whizzed northward and we were making great time until we weren’t. I say we, it’s not like anyone asked our permission to alter where the train was going, or not as the case may be. And in this case it was definitely now not going to where it should be or where we wanted it to be going.

The train manager also complicated the whole situation by telling us all different information and instead of just saying ”Sorry I got it wrong” he continued to give us false information.

We got off the train at Rugby and waited for the next train from Euston, which is the one that Kevin was originally booked onto. It started to rain (not a grave in sight).

We eventually got to Wolverhampton approximately 90 minutes late.

Carlsberg can fuck off.

The Maiden FC (Footy Thread) had arranged a meet up at the Giffard Arms and an interesting time it was too. But I’d got a promise to keep, plans to put into action and my own agenda.

It had finally stopped raining by the time I arrived at the Civic, security saw me approaching the venue, they discreetly led to me the box office neatly side stepping the long queue, where I collected my ticket and I was in.

I love what they have done to the Civic, I don’t like the renaming of it, it’s always going to be the Civic, we’ve had this conversation before on other blogs.

Everything the Civic now is, and now stands for, is everything that you need from a venue that has gone through an upgrade, except one thing and one thing only. Ticketbastard and E Tickets. OK, that’s two things but you know what I mean. 

Ticketbastard and E Tickets are the work of the devil. Evil in its purest form. There is no conversation to be had. Feel free to change my mind. Educate me. But for every dumb reason you offer me, I get to punch you in the face with extreme violence and prejudice. That seems a fair deal, right? I mean, if you’re so convinced that you’re right and I am wrong, you’re in no danger of getting punched in the face with extreme violence and prejudice. Not so sure of your convictions now are you… Tell me again how I’m wrong.

I’m sure stranger things have happened at sea, but they’ve only ever been witnessed by sailors drunk on rum while chasing mermaids around the Caribbean Sea.

When I bought my ticket for tonight’s gig, I bought one in the balcony, I have no idea why, I just did. I certainly didn’t know that I’d be doing the tour just a few weeks after having surgery and I’d never have thought I’d be doing the tour under medical supervision. I’m not doing this tour for fun you know… this is strictly doctors’ orders.

Even though I bought a ticket up in the balcony I still went down the front, if only to find mates who I thought might be on the barrier.

I made my way upstairs where I found a spider’s web of red thread. I stumbled into a bloke in a Black Smoke Trigger T Shirt named Steve (which, let’s be honest, is a really strange name for a T Shirt) who was actually from Napier, NZ (BST’s home town) he was now living in Cornwall, he said he was making a 200 mile round trip. He needs a new Sat Nav if he thinks Cornwall 200 miles away.

Then I bumped into Maranda and her pals who I’d seen at the Hertford gig the night before. We all kind of stood at the top of the stairs pointing at each other, it’s you, from girl from last night… (that wouldn’t be the time I’d say that on the tour, but know the rule, what happens on the road stays on the road).

Then I met Jodi, the in house photographer for the Civic, she asked if she could take my picture, she knows a right dead sexy bastard when she sees one, until then she was stuck taking pictures of me.

She made me look like the sex god that I am, who said the camera never lies.

https://www.jodiphotography.co.uk/

While I was up in the top tier, I got a message from Dave (yes that Dave, the one who I met doing Maiden in Paris, even though we only lived maybe 5 miles apart, yes he’s the one that hassled all of those innocent young school girls under the Eiffel Tower and then puked up all over the Metro – although I really don’t like to mention it…) so, I popped own to the middle tier to have a chat and watch Black Smoke Trigger.

Dave walked me through the technical reasons why the Black Smoke Trigger sound was so crystal clear. I just nodded politely pretending to understand and secretly regretted asking the question.

After the gig we made our way to the merch in the foyer where I took part in my very own version of This Is Your Life. Who knew I knew that many people or people that knew me. It was great fun to see so many old friends again.

I’m not sure what BST were thinking, I just tried to introduced them to as many people as I could, just to have someone else appear and jump on me before starting the introductions all over again.

Speaking of BST, Charlie, Dan, and Josh (alphabetical) were stood together in a line politely waiting to meet people while me and mates bought total chaos to their networking. Baldrick however was nowhere to be seen. He was ill.

Later on, once I’d left the building, I chatting to some fans outside when Baldrick spotted me, he literally ran start over to me and shook my hand. Pure class. In the middle of being ill and doing the load out, he took the time to pop over and speak to the fans hanging around outside. This band is going to go far.

Oh yeah. While I remember. Bruce Dickinson and Black Smoke Trigger played a gig tonight. It was good. *

Back in March or April, I stated on Facefuck, that on paper the band weren’t good enough to play anything from Skunkworks. I wasn’t saying anything negative about the current band, I was saying something positive about the previous one. Next time I will type slowly for the fan boys and thicko’s.

Tonight, they proved I was right, Bruce said, “Sorry, I lied…”

I won’t apologise. I stand by my opinion.

Bruce came in so late it was beyond jazz. I can lip read, I saw Tanya and Philip look at each, “Here we go…”

I got to bed at 02.30

 

* Was tonight the best Bruce gig that I’ve seen? Ask me after London.

 

Day Two, Travel Day

(Strange the people you bump into at a train station)

 

Friday 17^th May 2024

Wolverhampton to Glasgow.

 

After stealing a massive four hours sleep I made my way to Wolverhampton train station where I bumped into Ranjit and then Kevin, stalkers the pair of them. They both went back to London, while I made my way to Scotland, where the women folk are ginger and the men folk wear dresses. It’s true and you all know it.

I love Scotland. Always have. Always will. I’d live there if it wasn’t so far away. No, really, I’d be up there faster than Scotland getting dumped out of the Euro's.

After getting rid of one pair of stalkers, who should rock up but Tanya and Philip. Just because I’m doing the whole UK tour, doesn’t mean that they can just invade my space… Security…

I just let them get on with it, but, there was also no point in me ignoring them either, that would be impolite and rude, especially considering we were stood next to each other.

We started to chat. No photographs. No autographs. We are simply travellers on the road, travelling under the umbrella of music. And that Ladies and Gentlemen is how it works.

When it’s a gig day, for an hour or so, they run around on stage pretending to be rock stars, and for an hour or so, we’re in the crowd pretending that they matter, and that’s it, that’s our relationship.

As for days off, all the clues are there, it’s a DAY OFF! They aren’t on stage and we aren’t in the crowd. We are travellers on the road, tourists, travelling under the umbrella of music. Which is not to be confused with a musical umbrella. *

As I’ve already mentioned it would be impolite, and rude to ignore each other. Afterall, I can’t  pretend that they aren’t the band or that I’m a fan. And neither can they.

We travel on a two way street. We both know why we’re here. We both know our place. And while we are on the road we look out for, and look after, each other. As I said, we are travelling under the umbrella of music.

Once everyone knows and accepts the rules everything falls into place.

For example, I can chat about the band, or the gig, but only if it’s in the same way I would chat about normal stuff, like the weather, or where the nearest sex shop is because I’ve left my favourite gimp mask in the hotel.

It’s OK to chat about the band or gig, because that’s why we are all here, what is not OK is for them to act like prima donna rock stars or me to act like a fan boy.

For example, while chatting, Tanya calmly handed me a plectrum. Not to be out done, Philip did the same. I offered my thanks and as Tanya handed me her plectrum I commented on her yellow nail varnish and how it was better than mine (bright red) and how you could see her nail varnish from the back of the gig. We spent a few minutes chatting about nail varnish her plectrums and future plans for plectrums. They weren’t being rock stars and I wasn’t being a fan boy. It was just chatting. Were we chatting about the band, the gig, or the nail varnish? See how it works?

Truth be told we spent most of our time together talking about our families, while looking at photos on phones and talking about Hearts & Hand Grenades because I was wearing one of their T Shirts.

Speaking of H&HG’s, another thing we spoke of was bass strings. My mate Stef plays bass in H&HG’s, she uses a Warwick 5 string Corvette $$ with DR strings. Tanya said she uses Sadowsky (I think) and they were better strings. 

So, there’s me chatting to Tanya, a female bass player, about my mate Stef, a female bass player.

Have I made my point? Good. Can we all just move on now? Good.

Glasgow. WOW! Just how warm was Glasgow. Bright blue skies. Everyone smiling. Everyone happy. Girls wearing very little and short skirts everywhere. Hold on. This is Scotland. Not everyone in a short skirt is female. Oh well. When in Rome… I’m game if they are.

I met Mark at my hotel and with nothing else better to do we both went off to the pub… for a soda water and lime. What a pair of nancy boys we are.

We must have been in the pub chatting to Gus and his wife for a good 20 minutes before I realised that the two blokes stood next to us at the bar were Dave Moreno (drummer) and Sean Topham (drum tech).

Just as I realised it was Dave and Sean that were stood next to us, Dave looked me straight in the eye and said, “It’s you, you were on the train…”

Introductions were made and the rest of the night drifted out of sight.

See how it works, we’re just travellers on the road, and what happens on the road stays on the road. Have you seen anything from me and my mates about that night in the pub? And you never will.

Over the course of the last two days, I’d invited both bands and crew to the pub in Glasgow knowing it was a genuine night off. I promised everyone that it would be a fan boy free zone. That promise was not my promise to make. I had absolutely no idea who was going to be in that pub or if they would turn into fan boys should my pals from the band and crew rock up. I just hoped that Glasgow wouldn’t let me down and the rules I mentioned earlier would kick in by default. Afterall, Glasgow wouldn’t let down. Would it?

Glasgow, you did yourself proud.

As did the Blue Lagoon and that large fish super.

I go to bed at 02.30

 

* When raindrops strike the outside of a musical umbrella, the rain drops get turned into musical notes that instantly fall from the inside of the umbrella, soaking the user with music. The greater the storm the more notes cascade, thus the more beautiful the music.

 

Day Three, Gig Two

(Champions, My Arse! My Goldfish could win the Scottish Premiership)

 

Saturday 18^th May 2024

Glasgow, Barrowland Ballroom.

Bruce Dickinson, Black Smoke Trigger.

I woke to a city that was buzzing. The sky was a dazzling bright blue. Glasgow appears to have secured a monopoly on summer. Celtic fans everywhere. The Duke still had a cone on his head and all was good with the world. 

I made my way to Kelvington Art Gallery for a bit of culture before the chaos. And as far as art galleries go, it’s well worth the visit and I’m glad I made the effort.

By the time I’d got back into the city the streets were crawling with Celtic fans. In the world of football, you don’t get Fan Boys per se but you do get Glory Hunters. And Glasgow was full of them. They stick out like a sore thumb.

Sometimes it’s because they look like Merchandise Mike, like they’ve just stepped off the pages of the merchandise catalogue, from the photo shoot. It’s like they’ve walked into the club shop with the catalogue in their hands saying, I want that, and that, and that, and that… and have you got that in blue… I look good in blue… You can hear them saying it.

Sometimes it’s because you see Celtic fans (as in this example) walking around the city dragging suitcases on wheels looking completely lost while trying to find their hotel.

Why would Celtic fans, in full Merchandise Mike mode, be dragging suitcases around Glasgow city centre looking for their hotel? They are from Glasgow right? They live in Glasgow right? They do go to games right? Because if you lived in Glasgow you wouldn’t need a hotel, would you? You’d be able to just go home after celebrating a league championship, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t be completely lost in the city you live in, would you?

I now found myself with a moral dilemma. Remembering what I said earlier about being travellers on the road and looking out for each other. If I was asked by a Celtic Merchandise Mike for directions to their hotel, would it be wrong for me to deliberately send them in the wrong direction?

No! Was the answer to that question. And I was surprised at just how quickly I arrived at that answer. Fuck em. Cunts the lot of them.

My walk up Argyle Street then Trongate towards Barrowland got increasing more difficult but in a fun way, by the time I’d reached Gallowgate, it was chaos, bodies everywhere, on top of bus shelters, hanging out of windows, lying on the floor unconscious and some in real trouble too, but they were being looked after. Bruce later described it as “Alcoholic Armageddon” and frankly that’s exactly what it was.

I’d much rather be in the middle of that complete and utter chaos, than be asked dumb fuck questions by Merchandise Mike and his suitcase.

Even the traffic lights went green.

In reflection, my arrival at Barrowland was like calm still water after what I’d just witnessed.

A few hundred yards down the road the chaos continued. Emergency vehicles constantly screamed passed us, racing towards whatever drama was unfolding, while we all calmy watched from a safe distance.

There were a few familiar faces already in the queue, I’ve been there and I’ve done that, good luck to the lot of them.

I’d already decided to stand at the desk tonight because of two reasons. Firstly, I wanted to see if the sound at Wolverhampton was fluke. Secondly, I wanted to take photos of the ceiling at Barrowland.

Later in the tour I was chatting to a band member who randomly mentioned the ceiling at Barrowland and how stunning it looked under different coloured lights. Yeah.

I bumped into Wayne outside, he introduced me to Neil and they were promptly spirited away by security. At the time I had no idea how much that action was to influence the rest of my tour. Who knew there was early access for disabled ticket holders. I didn’t.

The same security team then escorted me to the box office to collect my ticket. Again, that was a new variation on a theme.

The box office didn’t give me a ticket, they just stamped my hand and let me in. Which all left me with a problem that I had not envisaged. Now, completely by fluke, I found myself in an empty Barrowland. Should I go on the barrier or stick with my game plan?

I decided to stick to my game plan, with a large, wide, empty barrier, I went for a walk and chatted to people. I bumped into old friends, I made new friends, thoughts of writing this blog were bouncing around my head and I needed to find my angle. What I hadn’t realised is that I’d already found an angle, in fact, I’d found two.

I do wish that I could get to Glasgow more often. Edinburgh is the place to go if you want history and security. Glasgow is the place to go if you want to experience the spirit of a frontier town. The city just simply crackles, like damp wood in a fire, it cracks and spits and snaps and if you let it, you will get burnt. Glasgow never lets you down.

Tonight’s audience… What does it tell you about a city and a venue, when you leave the building asking which one was better, the crowd or the band?

After Wolverhampton I asked, was that the best Bruce gig I’ve ever seen, ask me after London. I’m not convinced we’re going to get that far. My comment was heavily influenced by the crowd reaction. For both bands the Wolverhampton crowd were up for it. Tonight, Glasgow, has the tour peaked? Is it all downhill from here on in?

After the gig I was allowed to stay inside and continue to taking photos.

It was a strange walk back to my hotel. The streets were now deserted of all things green and white. Men in bright yellow were scrubbing the city clean. Glasgow city’s very own Oompa Loompas, albeit yellow Oompa Loompas, were unstickying the streets.

At midnight I sent my daughter a birthday message. Who’d have that thought the 19^th May would become such an important date.

 

Intermission

 

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