Heart of a Punk - Soul of a Rasta

Agenda 5
26th April O2 Academy Birmingham.
The Specials/The Ripps

In preparation for the big day I reread "Ska'd for Life" by The Specials bass man Horace Panter and very enjoyable it was both first and second time around. Since I've not read any other books on The Specials I am unable to compare it to anything else on the market if a comparison is indeed necessary. What I find in a lot of band/artist biographies/autobiographies though (I hope I'm not alone here) is that the part before he she or they "make it" is always fascinating, then when he she or they have "made it" the book usually become less than dull, why this is I dunno. But Mr Panter's book never becomes dull and he is able to hold your attention throughout, I think the main device that aids attention retention is his use of three long extracts from his back in the day diaries. Also he is on the face of it even handed apportioning inter band blame for The Specials demise and so doesn't waste time on hidden agendas or axe grinding.

Reading Horace's book did bring back memories of the 2 Tone tour time, but strangely it also eked out from the recesses of my mind, memories of certain times, places and people that had somehow been expunged from my aged addled mind. It also made me recall a venue, The Glasgow Apollo, ok so I only went there a couple of times but how this freaky place had dropped out of my consciousness is astounding, alcohol I suppose. I didn't see The Specials there oh no. The first time I went to a gig there was in 1981 and for reasons I can't divulge here I was able on this occasion to enter the auditorium prior to the paying punters entering the venue. I had driven over from Edinburgh without a stop and without realising how much water I'd retained from the beer swallowed on the previous night so on reaching Glasgow Apollo I was in urgent need of a piss.

I parked up, and then tore up the steps and inside the Apollo focused purely on finding a lavvy. I entered the auditorium, clocked the toilet signs, found the toilets, but bugger me they were locked (for why!) Anyway if my actions on that day caused a problem for anyone I apologise now, but it was necessary for me to bring my left Monkey Boot into play, the flimsy red door was quickly and decisively kicked open, I can still bring to mind now the ecstasy of my relief when relief finally came. So there I was all alone in the stalls of the Glasgow Apollo eighteen years of age and suddenly relieved of a massive bladder burden, there was only one thing I could do. I stood with my back pressed firmly on the back wall of the stalls; I dipped my head slightly and began to run like Allan Wells down the slope towards the stage. Now I was about 5 foot 11 inches tall then and even though I was going full tilt and I flung myself upwards at the last moment without any thought for my own safety, I was still a long, long, long way short of coming anywhere near touching the Glasgow Apollo stage, this stage was f'in gargantuan in height, as Horace Panter recalls in "Ska'd" it was "vertigo inducing". But how high was it? I've just tried to find out on that web thingy, but zip. Yeah every person who ever played there has said it was high, but how high was it! I was informed later that day by a local that the stage could be reached by means of a joint effort (get the mix and strength of your spliff just right and you'd float up there, no, no, no). The joint effort required a mate who'd stand with his back on the stage wall his hands interlocked in front, then you would put your foot firmly in his hold and in a swift catapulting motion he would fling you upwards. If you didn't make it, the outcome was not good. Stage diving, err no! Stage dieing, err yes!

The stage of course was not the only big legendary thing at the Glasgow Apollo. Horace also recalls the bouncers at the Apollo from when The Specials backed up The Clash. The Apollo bouncers were a big and absolutely horrible bunch; and it was always their intention to be so; it was a gangland turf thing, if a band turned at the Apollo acting the big I am they were going to get a beating, if they turned up at the Apollo acting ever so humble, they were still going to get a beating.

Anyway in those days slap bang next to the Glasgow Apollo was a wonderfully placed fish and chip shop. Now the bouncers at the Apollo were as I've said big mother lovers and were probably fuelled from here and of course the Apollo bar, but the one night I had the misfortune of visiting the chippy at a shift end for the Glasgee boys in blue. There was me and twenty or so Glasgow Policemen packed into the confines of the steamed up, condensation dripping fryery, and each and every one of these fine fellows was a behemoth, and each and every one had "a face as mean as their life had been".
After fifteen minutes (years) of waiting amongst these fine fellows for me bag of chips and a pickled egg I was never once able to use my right hand, because for all this time I found it impossible to release it's grip on the cellophane wrapped square of blow in my pocket. After escaping from the mass ranks of Glasgow's finest I was some hours later able to take my right hand out of my pocket and unwrap the cellophane, there was no longer anything inside it, the blow had disappeared, scarpered, been eviscerated or just melted, or had I smoked it the night before? The Glasgow Apollo has also of course long since melted away by means of fire and demolition so there is no possibility of me physically ever returning there, so thanks Horace for transporting me back there if only for a moment.

So if you want to reminisce or get a whiff of what it was like back in the day buy Ska'd for Life by Horace Panter it's definitely worth a read.

And then "soon come" Original Rude Boy by Neville Staple.
Could be quite different to Horace's book me thinks.

http://www.waterstones.com/waterstonesweb/displayProductDetails.do?sku=6582125

Whilst I'm on the subject of books please let me thrust two more in your face. First if you like reading (by this I mean something that is well written). Ok so the chances are you wouldn't be reading this shitola if you wanted something well written, but anyway, one of the best written muso books that I've ever read is The Big Wheel by Bruce Thomas. Bruce Thomas was the bass man in Elvis Costello's Attractions, you don't need to know this to enjoy his book, it's supposedly a work of fiction. But fiction or not it did for him as far as Elvis and the other Attractions were concerned. For why? Who knows? I've read a whole lot worse. All the same he was flung out of the band like a toy being flung out of a baby's pram.
What The Big Wheel does best is capture vacuous nothingness of life on the road, a claustrophobic loop of coaches, hotel lounges, drink, drugs, and mundane chatter - seek it out.

Another book of note which I read last year is A Dysfunctional Success by Eric Goulden, AKA Wreckless Eric. Eric's book reads just like his records play, truthful and truthful. Two parts of the book that have stayed with me are; one when Eric with Ian Dury (on Drums) and Ian's girlfriend Denise on bass are practicing at Eric's house, and the "rhythm sticks" are in full flow. God how I would have loved to have been there! And while reading it I was!
And two is the bit when Eric after a gig is making his way home across London at three in the morning pushing a cart piled high with all his gear, anyone who has been in a band however small can relate to Eric's book, we've all been there, done the most stupid, painful, pitiful things on the road to rock n roll without ever stopping for a moment to ask why. You don't need to know anything about Wreckless Eric to appreciate his book; it is thoroughly enjoyable purely as an account of a man moving through life from A to B to C to M and constantly trying to figure out why and how he got to where he is. I commend it to you.

The Gig
So finally after a long wait, for me anyway, we were there, my son and I in the queue outside the O2 Academy Birmingham. I was fifteen when I first saw The Specials on the first 2 Tone tour, my lad is almost twelve but already he is a 2 tone veteran having seen Neville Staple The Beat and Madness on a couple of occasions. Unlike a lot of gigs that have been totally expunged from my mind due to the ravages of time and alcohol the 2 tone tour gig at the Civic Hall Wolverhampton remains vividly intact. I can remember walking the seven miles or so to the venue calling to pick up with a couple of mates en route, I can remember that I wore my white school shirt and my Dad's ultra thin black funeral tie, it was absolutely the first time I'd gone to a gig with a tie on, but I must have thought it was necessary. Back in '09 the doors opened and we made our way inside the O2 to find our DJ and Toaster for the evening rummaging through his opened brief case in search of a ruck of digital delights to fire in our direction. And a good selection of stuff this DJ geezer gave us too (who was this guy, DJ Felix, DJ Phoenix I didn't catch his name - if some one can tell me I'd really appreciated it) He took us home in style, opening up with Burning Spear and ending after the Specials with Peter Tosh, in between he managed to cram in the best of the best and the fittest of the fittest The Ethiopians/ Skatalites/ Marley/ Selector/ Bad Manners/ Madness/ The Beat/ Dexy's etc bringing the crowd up to the boil nicely.

The Ripps a four piece Cov combo covered themselves in glory also; the black bob headed lead vocalist Patch Lagunas's guitar syncopated "in a wonderful Clash like fashion" with Raul Lagunas's guitar and visa versa, Alan Ferguson's bass work was at times a wonderful speeding blur and Phil Cox's drums were in tight control throughout, so all was well here, a brass section arrived and were applied to the last couple of tracks - 2 tone/Jam/reggae/Clash it was a good mix. But hey with that "hair do" is Patch the brother of one of the Ipso Facto girls? Nah can't be, can he? http://www.myspace.com/theripps

Meanwhile back in the day at the Wolves Civic, before The Specials took to the stage we were entertained first by Selector and then by Madness, it was Madness as I recall who I was looking forward to seeing and hearing most on the night. See it must be remembered in those long forgotten days a band didn't have an album worth of demos up on a myspace site for you to listen to prior to seeing them play live. The only stuff I'd heard prior to the 2 tone gig was the two single releases Gangsters by The Specials and Prince by Madness, but it was enough. The stage at the Civic Hall back in the day was mighty different from how it is today, and at the Top Rank things were pretty much the same. The stage at the Civic was only half as wide as it is today. Eh how was that then? Well it wasn't actually half the size but back then half the stage used to be filled up either side by great big cowin speakers and the band just got squeezed into the middle. This had the effect of squeezing us poor f***ers into the middle also, because you didn't want to be up close and personal with those speakers, an instrument inadvertently dropped or unplugged, or a sudden burst of feedback and you wouldn't be able to hear for a week. So on the 2 tone night the stage was unlike anything I had been used to seeing at the Civic, I was used to seeing four piece punk outfits on the stage, on 2 tone night the stage was completely and utterly packed and consumed by a maelstrom of crazy and vigorous human movement, you just didn't now who to watch or in my case how to dance. Oh yeah but remember back then there was no barrier between you and the stage, but f*** me that stage corner rim was sharp.

And when Geno by Dexys faded out, and the lights faded out, The Specials took to the stage it was time to enjoy ourselves

"Bernie Rhodes knows Don't Argue"
the floor of the Academy vibrated

"I'm the man in grey, I'm just the man at C & A, and I don't have a say in the war games that they play"
the brass section rasped and rumbled

"He's just a stereotype. He drinks his age in pints. He has girls every night. But he doesn't really exist"
and Brad & Horace took us to the Dub
"I don't need no whisky to make me frisky, I'm a Stereotype"


"You were a rich girl, and only having fun, Your low cut dresses brought stares from everyone"
and
"I won't dance in a club like this. All the girls are slags and the beer tastes just like piss"
then Terry jibed the Cov throng by pledging his allegiance to Man Utd

Roddy took up the vocal cudgels for
"I have to carry a knife. Because there's people threatening my life"

"You're working at your leisure to learn the things you'll need, The promises you make tomorrow will carry no guarantee" and
"Out of bed at 8 am, Out my head by half past 10"
and
"Where did you get that blank expression on your face?" Terry remained dead pan throughout

"But rude boys never give up their guns. It's too hot"
and
"I was on my way to Banbury Cross, Then I see a monkey upon a white horse"
The sharp suit as seen on Jools Holland's Later ditched, Neville resplendent in his white vest and pork pie hat.

"Ain't he cute? No he ain't, He's just another burden on the welfare state"
Lynval tried to say more but was hurried into
"A message to you Rudie".

"Sticks and stones may break my bones. In area six they throw bottles and bricks and kicks"
and
"All you punks and all you Teds, National Front and Natty Dreads, Mods, Rockers, Hippies and Skinheads, Keep on fighting 'till you're dead"
the aggressive band played aggressive music,
like they'd never been away

"Just because you're a black boy, Just because you're a white, It doesn't mean you've got to hate him, It doesn't mean you've got to fight".
the unifying band played unifying music,
like no one before or since.

There was no rough house, no pushing and shoving, no throwing of ale (all the ale went down into the pail) there was no bad vibe.

The rhythm section kept everything under control (Concrete Jungle the only exception - of course); nothing ran away in an amphetamine charged blur, everything was perfectly paced.

"Longshot Kick the Bucket",
"The Liquidator"
(from the terrances to the stage)
and
"Skinhead Moonstomp"
each came and went before it ended as it began
with

"Enjoy yourself, it's later than you think, Enjoy yourself, while you're still in the pink, The years go by, as quickly as you wink, Enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself, it's later than you think".

The lights faded in and so did Peter Tosh "Warning! Warning! The Surgeon General warns Cigarette smoking is dangerous, dangerous, Hazard to your health, Does that mean anything to you". We pushed our way out of the venue considerably damper than when we entered, passed Rankin Roger ready to take over from the DJ, and out onto the pavement and into the TV cameras waiting for a comment. Hey The Specials are back together again, The Specials are news again, The Specials are still a truly great live band - Never for a moment in the entire 30 years did I ever doubt that one day this would all come to pass! Not for a moment! ...........Yeah rrrrright.