Little Shop of Honours

Jarvis Cocker = what a legend: Same glasses, same accent, same outlook on life, nothing but respect for the un-complicated former Pulp front man. If only there were more musicians like him. I was watching an interview with him the other day. He was talking about the demise of independent record shops and the rise of the download and commercialisation of the music industry in general. As ever, with Jarvis’ unique way of putting things, he had a few good points. My memory of independent record shops come from my youth when I used to bunk off school, go to town and hang around Probe or the Vynal Frontier. I used to love them old shops as you could find all kinds of stuff you wouldn’t find in the likes of HMV or Virgin (including the smell of joss sticks and stale Rush). The disappearance of these shops has, in my opinion, taken away the personal experience we used to have when buying our music as opposed to the much more corporate feeling we have now. Everything is too ‘hands on’ and extremely sensationalised these days to the extreme that pop stars are doing signed appearances in the ‘Mega Stores’ all the time just to make sure they can bank on your money. I see it as nothing more than shameless capitalism. Even supermarkets sell music these days, but have you noticed the way they advertise music more than actual music stores? They even have them bizarre prices of £9.97 or £8.56 per CD. I’d love to know where they get them prices from and how much salary the person who came up with that idea actually receives. £118.567 per annum? £9.97 per hour? Anyone? Compare the corporate, shiny, clean, massive stores of today to the likes of Probe & others and there is an absolute world of difference. I used to remember fondly walking into Probe looking for something and being directed straight to it by some 6ft hippy that looked like Neil from The Young Ones who had a bad ‘Billy Ocean’ problem wearing a Sisters of Mercy t-shirt. After that he’d sit down at his stool behind the desk he ‘worked at’, carried on reading the Socialist Worker whilst listening to Gram Parsons, smoking a roley and basically left you alone to get on with your shopping. Superb, hassle free music shopping that always guaranteed your custom again and again. The only conversation you have in mega stores these days with people behind the counter is when they ask you if you have a store card or wish to purchase any of the shit books or CD’s they can’t sell! There are still a few that exist today (by the skin of their teeth) in Liverpool, Hairy Records being my all time favourite. During my time in the band I used to do a bit of fly-postering around town and I always used to target record shops. The fella in Hairy Records always used to take a vested interest in the gig we had coming up and he always seemed genuinely interested in how your band was doing. It was a nice personal touch that was usually shunned by the ‘bigger’ stores who were more likely to tell you to fuck off or faced being thrown out (head first) by their steroid-ridden beefcake security guard. A world of difference wouldn’t you agree? Another thing Jarvis went onto comment on was recommendations you get imposed upon you when buying music on-line. Now, I know everyone always mentions new albums to your mates and all that, but I actually find it rather creepy the way some of these website you buy your music from tell you what they recommend and what other people bought who you may be ‘interested in buying’. I-Tunes do something similar as well. I find it pretty patronising to just pigeon hole people in this way. You don’t need to be ushered to a certain type of music just because someone else bought it! You’re not at a fucking wedding are you? It’s all too creepy and treating people like sheep and it had to be said gets on my nerves!! You expect treatment like that from the Two Kenneth’s from The Fast Show. You can picture the scene: “Ooh, Led Zeppelin, Sir, Ooh, ooh, suits you Sir” (2nd Kenneth appears from behind the ‘Rock Section’) “Your wife, Sir, does she like a good shuffle, Sir? Does she like to ‘mix it up’, Sir, does she like it AC/DC Sir, ooh suits you sir, suits you” Imagine going to get your weekly shopping and some salesman type person comes up behind you and starts offering you a certain type of butter because you look like the last person who bought it? You’d be pretty fucking dumbfounded and damn right angry wouldn’t you? The final step would obviously being targeted in a sex shop. God knows what they’d offer me? Black twenty inch double ender? Fuck knows! Now, I know this is a Music Blog, but I can’t help but speak out against this here as I have to get it off my chest. Music is your personal taste. It’s not about what Bob Bloggs and his wife who live in the next street bought. It’s about what you want and what you like! Wouldn’t it be interesting if you were given a private audience with say: Richard Branson and told him what to buy when thinking about buying a new sports car or a new yacht? “Er, try this brand new £100.000 Ferrari Enzo, Sir Richard, I think you’d look great in it”. Somehow I don’t think he’d appreciate your advice too much even though he’s making an absolute killing out of some ‘slick’ marketing ploy aimed at people like me & you designed to recommend something we might like So I’d like to end this fittingly with a few words from good old Jarvis and one of Pulp’s classic songs ‘Common People’: “I met her in a supermarket …” Now, just imagine here, I wonder if Jarvis ever thought about following that line with “she ‘recommended’ that I had to start it somewhere … so we started it … In Virgin’s Mega Store“ Somehow, I seriously doubt it (it doesn’t rhyme for a start) So, remember this, pop pickers: obey your ears, not some corporate slag bag who wants to bleed your wallet dry for the sake of his multi trillion pound corporation. Get out there to an independent record shop and buy something that tweaks your ears … steer clear of the 6ft Smelly Hippy though. Mol

All Killer, No Filler

I was having a bit of a text marathon with a musically learned mate of mine last week (don’t worry, it was nothing bent). We were talking about under rated albums, and it got me thinking about the bands that have quality by the bucket load, bands who have never released a shit album. Controversy, I hear? Now, I know everyone has different tastes when it comes to music and one man’s shit is another man’s perfection. I even know some people who own S Club 7 Albums! I also had a conversation the other day with some bird about how shit she reckons Franz Ferdinand are. This same person also thinks Razorlight are a superb band. We all know where I stand on that issue so you probably don’t need to know what my reply was. So this only proves the myth that everyone does have different tastes. I have an old saying: If we all liked the same thing I’m sure it would be a pretty dull place to live. I’ll always stand by this, but this Blog is also about personal opinion. That’s the main reason I write it. Now, we all know most bands have a ‘Tin Machine’ moment, but the bands that do usually release the quality records are the ones that take their time writing, producing and releasing them at the exact right moment (usually when their competition are winding up their last album/tour cycle). They are usually the bands who aren’t too scared to put two fingers up to the pushy records executives and say “fuck you! We’ll record and release this in our own time” – That, I greatly admire in any band. Maybe it is the time difference between each of their albums or maybe it is down to that fact that they are immensely talented musicians and very clever songwriters who know the difference between all killer and no filler. Or is there a lack of bands who are genuinely interested in writing quality music that they actually do care about or are there far too many bands interested in the life style of a rock star and the celebrity that comes with it as most people might agree here that the possibility of throwing one up Kate Moss is pretty great if you become a member of a vaguely successful band? And an appealing one as well. But, the sad fact is that there are a lot of shit bands who will write anything to appeal to the masses and write and album full of pub sing a long songs (The Fratelis, The Enemy, Kaiser Chiefs, Oasis, etc, etc – just a few examples in my opinion) and will not use their possible short time in music to treat what they are releasing and writing with respect but spend it on doing long tours and far too many festival appearances to fill their coffers. I did make a point before about personal taste, but in my opinion I would say there are maybe four bands that have never made a bad album during their time in music, they are: The Killers (Hot Fuss, Sam’s Town, Day & Age)

Arcade fire (Funeral, Neon Bible)

Queens of the Stone Age (Rated R, Songs for the Deaf, Lullabies to Paralyze, Era Vulgaris)

Pavement (Slanted and Enchanted, Crooked Rain Crooked Rain, Wowee Zowee, Brighten the Corners, Terror Twilight) Many of the above bands will not seem recognisable or even relevant to many of the people reading this Blog, but if you think about it, many of them are considered hugely influential in the many genres of music they represent in the present day and at the time of their circulation. Pavement are one of the greatest American alternative bands to come out of the nineteen nineties ‘left of the dial’ era, Queens on the Stone Age represent the crème de la crème of the so called Nu-Metal scene (I still prefer to call it Rock Music though), The Killers are the modern day Pet Shop boys with guitars who have fans right across the board and Arcade Fire are considered in many quarters of the music press to be the greatest band on the planet. If you come round to my house at any given day I’m sure you’ll find one of the above albums being played. Just make sure you give us a bell first as I might have my Speedos on while sitting in the garden with the missus. Now, I know a lot of you reading this will probably be shaking your head in disarray now and saying “he’s forgot about these” or “he’s forgot about them” or “what about my favourite band blah blah”, I can totally understand. Honestly I can, but I’m not an agony aunt, so go and take your moaning to someone who gives a shit! haha, kidding. But, seriously, there are another type of band that have never released a bad album, they are the one hit wonders. And I know what a certain G Roberts of Skelmersdale, Merseyside (haha) will be thinking: the La’s. The La’s are the most notable of bands that fall into the category of one hot wonders (don’t worry, that will be the last time I say that as I find the term extremely annoying as well). The making and release of their album (The La’s) was shrouded in mystery and was the stuff of urban myths. It was eventually ‘forced out’ by their label Go Discs in the early 90’s after they allegedly finally ran out of patience with Lee Mavers’ after many years of recording demos and his bizarre insistence of having ‘60’s dust’ inside his Vox amp! (again; allegedly) Mavers, though, was a very talented songwriter, but sadly bordered on being a floored genius with an obsession with perfectionism which eventually resulted in The La’s never releasing anything ever again. Damn shame if you ask me as I grew up listening to The La’s and, being from Huyton, getting to know some of them (ouch my foot!)* The same could be said about Guns N Roses’ most recent release Chinese Democracy even though it was not a debut they did take a hell of a long time to release an album. The Sex Pistols are another band that fall into this category after releasing Never Mind the Bollocks in 1978. Of course they had no choice as to release a follow up as they had a couple of small issues such as fighting, drugs, contractual issues, major implosion and the suicide of Sid Vicious to deal with. However ‘Bollocks’ is still the benchmark for many up and coming punk rock bands even today. As is The La’s debut with many Indie bands and Appetite for Destruction was without doubt one of the finest rock albums of all time. *name dropping can sometimes hurt your foot. So, if you have no patience for bands who release an album with two good singles and a load of filler tracks and you wanna take some musical advice from yours truly (go on, just this once, please), get onto some of the above list and use them vouchers you got for crimbo that are still burning a hole in you sky rocket. Mol

Not So Smashing Pumpkin

I’ve just finished reading a rather bizarre and desperate interview with the soul remaining original member of Smashing Pumpkins: Billy Corgan. In his latest incarnation of the Pumpkins he has decided that if fans of the band want to subscribe to the band’s Blog, they must pay him fifty dollars. Hardly the best carrot & stick initiative a band (of the No Spring chicken variety) has come up with wouldn’t you agree? To be honest with you I can’t really see that many of even their die-hard fans signing up to this as it sounds like the last acts of a desperate man trying for one last bumper pay day before he’s sent to the rock star nursing home (or as it’s known in this country: Butlins) Now, everyone who reads this Blog knows were I stand when it comes to greed in music, but I can’t help but get the feeling Corgan and his financial advisors (they used to be called Managers a long time ago) have been watching too many news stories about the collapse of the world’s financial system or too many episodes of The Apprentice and sat down to think about a new ‘initiative’ or ‘strategy’ to rip their fans with. Looks like they haven’t done their home work to be honest as I wouldn’t even see anyone with the lowest IQ in the entire world signing up for this shit he’s trying to pull. Idiot! Who the fuck does he think he is? Donald Trump? It seems capitalism hasn’t just gripped the western world, but it seems to have gripped the music world as well. I mean, I’m no Mike Baldwin, but I know the difference between something that is value for money and a complete rip off. Sadly, in Corgan’s case, watching some fella potter around in a studio making demos and having his photo taken is not worth $50. I could spend less in a Brass House in Amsterdam and have a much better time to be honest! Stick to the music, Bill. If not, I have only tow words for you: You’re fired!! Mol

Just Turn That Dial, Make Your Music Worthwhile

You know what? I hate Radio 1 DJ’s? What a gang of fucking celebrity arse-kissing twats!! I work most Saturday mornings. Not for the enjoyment you must know, I do it for the money. Whilst me & my colleagues sit in work, zombie-like trying to think of a good reason (apart from the money) for getting up at six in the morning, our marvellous superiors do actually allow us the once in a week pleasure of having the radio on. Most of the time we listen to Radio 1 so we don’t have to put up with listening to adverts for Safestyle UK or John Leach at the Widnes Car Centre (hands up who knows the number?), But this does nothing except prolong the agony of having to work that extra day as the DJ’s the BBC hired are just plain simply a gang of boring arsed tits!! Whilst listening to Radio 1, one particular DJ who works Saturday mornings who I have much distain for is the really annoying Nick Grimshaw. Now, early mornings are not the best of times to ‘rattle my cage’ as I’m pretty nocturnal and can be rather narky first thing. Don’t get me wrong, Grimshaw plays some decent tunes, but it’s his constant talking and rambling on about Lilly fucking Allen and other celebrities that really grinds on my balls. I’m sure he’s stalking her. I’d be pretty worried if I were her. The biggest of all knob head DJ’s though really does have to be Chris Moyles. Now, I know he’s an easy target when it comes to criticising DJ’s as most people are of the opinion that he really is a proper bulb, but he’s about as funny as waking up with your cock in your mother-in-law’s arse!! And as for his side-kick ‘Comedy’ Dave, can someone please tell me where the comedy element is in this silly little man as I really can’t find (or hear) any? And to think your taxes pay for this crap to be broadcast across our airwaves! Un-fucking-believable! In my opinion DJ’s come across as nothing more than celebrity magazine reporters who play the occasional song in between talking about Cheryl Cole’s latest ‘bust-up’ with her dickhead husband or Madonna’s latest divorce payout. They constantly ring up Z List Celebrities or Joe Public live on air asking them what they’re up to. Jesus Chris! How fucking dull! I also notice how they always just happen to ring up some goody-too-shoes celebrity like Holly Willoughby or some other twat who go onto inform us they are “shopping” or “going to a friends for coffee”. Bollocks! Wouldn’t it be fantastic if someone rang up Russell Brand to see what he’s up to (chances are pretty far fetched, I know) and he said he was currently participating in a bout of felching with some £20 an hour prostitute, a donkey and a trampoline! But of course, we all know Radio 1 has a new clean agenda following the Jonathan Ross/Russell Brand/Andrew Sachs affair that will involve no further controversy what so ever as Radio 1 has employed the safest of safety nets to ensure that ‘disgrace’ on behalf of Ross & Brand (as so many conservative newspapers up and down the country liked to describe it) never ever happened again. And the result ladies & gentlemen = the death of light entertainment in Britain across the airwaves. Instead we have some of the above bell ends calling up people on their way to work? Where’s the entertainment in that? Dull dull fucking dull!!!! It’s like reality radio! And finally ladies & gentlemen, I give you Vernon Kay. Good old Vern: the housewives choice, The Stuart Pritchard of Radio 1. Vern has well and truly cemented himself as the Alan Hansen of the airwaves. Every Saturday morning Vern reduces himself to the presenter of the embarrassing task of ringing up his brother (he’s a teacher by the way) to ask him for a maths question to put to the public each Saturday morning. Now, I’m sorry to say this, but mental arithmetic is not my idea of light entertainment at 9 o’clock on a Saturday morning! And anyone who participates (who isn’t in work, of course) in this maths extravaganza should be either having a lie in, getting a fucking life or being ‘taters deep’ with the missus!! I know what I’d rather be doing (and it doesn’t involve using a calculator). I’ve often found that the best and most entertaining DJ’s are the ones who work for shitty little local radio stations like KCR or Dogwank FM or whatever. The music is not always that good to listen to as some of it isn’t made in this century, but they can sometimes give you a proper good laugh when they go over to their roving reporter ‘Barry’ who is outside Greggs in Huyton Village where there has been a security incident involving some five year old called Dylan who has burnt his mouth on a flaming hot sausage roll. I also love some of the local adverts you find on these local stations from local companies like Bobby’ Bricks Building Suppliers or Bent Alan’s Mobile Hairdressers. Priceless! When I listen to Radio 1 today I can’t help but feel all nostalgic and think about the glory days when they used to have Steve Wright on in the afternoon (by the way I’m not talking about the prostitute murderer from Ipswich here). He was a proper good laugh who used to have the imaginary characters of Mick Jagger, Keith Richards & Sid the Manager courtesy of comedian Phil Cornwell. It was a hell of a lot better than listening to Chris Moyles and his ‘laddish’ mates trying their best to be funny and really did used to make my sides split with laughter. I also used to be a massive fan of Danny Baker & Chris Evans when they ‘worked’ on Radio 1, but they were also given the boot for being too ‘close to the knuckle’. I also think Evans was sacked because he couldn’t be arsed coming into work on Monday mornings because he was too pissed and not really arsed to turn up (sounds like someone I work with actually – one word: Geldof) So, if your bored with the celebrity obsessed national radio, go and have a listen to Jimi Hendrix’s famous words in the song he specially recorded for Radio 1 in the sixties … when radio was fun … “So just turn that dial, and make your music worth while” Mol

Going Over the Same Old Ground ....

I was having a chuckle to myself the other day about years ago when Mart put a Cliff Richard song on the jukebox in The Stanley five times on the bounce for a laugh. It was proper funny and got right on everyone’s tits. And it got me thinking about today’s music and news channels: 24 hour news channels & 24 hour entertainment channels can only mean one thing these days = overplay. And it’s starting to grind on my balls! A day doesn’t go by without hearing about Jade Goody’s funeral, Madonna’s latest attempt to kidnap some young black kid from Africa or, even worse, hearing one of Kings of Leon’s latest songs …. Again! You really can’t escape it and it’s becoming pretty tedious and really pushing the boundaries of what was once considered good taste and newsworthy Don’t get me wrong here by the way, Kings of Leon aren’t really my cup of tea, but they are a very good band and becoming hugely successful and cementing themselves on the world stage. Sadly their songs are being overplayed and this, in my case, is leading to resentment as once a day, not twenty or thirty, for the ridiculously titled Sex on Fire (or ‘Sax on Fire if you listen carefully) is quite enough for my ears to take thanks! Now, I know it’s not really the band’s fault as the blame lies firmly at the doors of the hundreds of radio stations & music channels banging out their tunes far to many times each day. I remember when Robbie Williams was at the height of his ‘powers’ (haha) in the late nineties and early 00’s when you couldn’t go into a pub, record shop or someone’s house without the possibility of having your ears subjected to Let Me Entertain You or Angels. It was the same with The Verve during pretty much the same time, this time it was a more ‘acceptable’ tune in the shape of Bitter Sweet Symphony that was badly banged out left, right & centre to such an extreme that you dreaded listening to it! Now, I know I always say this and many of you avid readers (all 3 of you) will be rolling your eyes at this point, but years ago all we had as regards music entertainment was Top of the Pops on Thursday night and the top 40 countdown on Sunday nights with Doctor Fox (or was it Pete Waterman?) Nowadays we have amongst hundreds of others: MTV, MTV2, MTV Base, VH1, Q, Kerrang & NME to name just a few. That is way too many for my liking. I’ve actually flicked (the remote control) from MTV2 to NME on many occasions to see the same song on both channels at the same time! It’s like a musical groundhog day! Other pitfalls of this new age of 24 hour entertainment and overplay is the new breed of roving celebrity ‘reporter’. Oh! How I love these people. They mainly come out of the woodwork during the British festival season when they go roving around camp sites to interview some wacky person who has decided to spend the weekend flame throwing or walking around on stilts! And the sight of Jo Whiley sat on a bail of hey with no shoes on pretending to be the band’s bezzy mate is just cringe-worthy!! Some news programmes now also have a little Entertainment News Section with some dickhead with thick rimmed-glasses on and a Mark Kermode haircut reporting on the slightest thing! Some pop stars can’t even fart these days without it being the head news story!! At the end of the day though, who really gives a fuck if Amy Winehouse smacks a photographer? Chances are they probably deserved it anyway so good on her! In a way I’m extremely glad there is an audience for music as many other forms of entertainment for instance the theatre or ballet are not exactly my cup of tea (I don’t really suit the tights to be honest) But please, if you’re the head of a radio station or music channel and you’re reading this Blog, stop overplaying songs as it’s turning people against the good music you are broadcasting. Instead, why don’t you start playing some more underground bands that people haven’t heard of before, but for god’s sake, if they get a bit of popularity and a certain degree of success don’t overplay them please.

Mol

Well I Bet That Mol Looks Good on the Dancefloor

Ah, can’t beat a bit of nostalgia can you? Have you ever noticed the way every music scene has its own style of clothing? Had a few days leave this week so I’ve been watching the series Seven Ages of Rock last week on the Yesterday channel. I must admit I’m a bit of a stickler when it comes to watching documentaries on telly. The most un-miss-able being Deadliest Catch and Andrew Marr’s History of Modern Britain (some colleagues of mine sometimes refer to me as ‘Discovery Dave’ by the way). Anyway, after watching the very intriguing Seven Ages of Rock series (why there are seven ages is anyone’s guess) I began to notice how each genre of music had it own particular style of clothing that fans of the bands had at the time. Now, everyone knows about my fine array of quality flamboyant shirts that have gained notoriety right across Merseyside (as well as Discovery Dave I have also heard the name Dave the Shirt floated about in the past, some lad in The Stanley called me Noel Edmunds last week as well) but I have often been pretty dumfounded at some of the rig outs most young lads & girls who follow a certain type of music decide to wear these days. But when I was a teenager it was an entirely different matter. So, seeing as we’re talking about History programmes and this is a Blog about music, I thought I’d have a look back and cringe (and laugh) at some of the pretty shocking garments of clothing I wore over the years and the types of music that went with them. So, I’m not ashamed to admit it … Dave Molyneux … this is your (clothing) life … Just before I left school I was absolutely bang into Iron Maiden, Guns ‘N’ Roses and various other metal bands, so much so that I even used to buy those patches that you got your ma’ to sow onto your denim jacket. I had a boss ‘Run to the Hills’ one. Ah double denim eh? The shame of it! (Boydy – I can hear you laughing already) But I wasn’t arsed about how I looked as every Friday me and my mates at the time used to get pissed on cheap cider at one of their houses, listen to Maiden and then go to a party to pull a bit of skirt. Memorable times they were. But at the time I really didn’t care as I well and truly considered myself to be a full time rocker and I couldn’t give a shit about some of the stick I used to get from the knobheads who used to rob their ma’s kitchen lino to go out break dancing on by the Offey on Pilch Lane. Now, when I say rocker, I don’t mean I dressed up like Eddie Cochrane or Ray Winstone in Quadrophenia, I mean I wore jeans, t-shirt and sported a rather shocking Mullet (you know the one with the sideys totally shaved off) and that was it – simple clothing that followed the music of the people (as metal is known in many quarters) By the way, don’t tell me ma’ about my underage drinking as it could well warrant a few clips round the ear next time I go to hers on Thursday for me tea. A few years later the rave scene came in and my mates & I started going to The Quadrant Park. In case you didn’t know The Quad was a massive snooker hall on the outskirts of Bootle that opened up as a rave club. It was a fantastic place full of loved-up lunatics on ecstasy and trips (which, of course, I never participated in just in case you are reading, Mum). Everyone in The Quad were friendly and happy towards everyone included strangers they had just met. As like the previous period of music musical clothing history the order of the day was jeans & t-shirt, but the one thing that everyone used to love about the quad was there were no fashion police giving you shit at the entrance (like Cream used to have) saying you couldn’t come in because of a certain dress code. Many people you will probably remember used to wear the Smiley t-shirts, wrist beads and have a whistle round their neck. I remember one particular lad who was so off his tits on Garys that after he heard a certain Stone Roses song was convinced he was actually Jesus Christ. That, as well as the music and the feel of the place, was the one soul reason people came back week in week out to The Quad in my opinion. The Barrel Room was quite possibly the best chill out place ever! But, the so called summers of love of 89’ - 90’ came to an abrupt end after a few unsavoury incidents involving a lad’s holiday in Newquay, copious amounts of LSD & weed and a violent incident with a brush between me & my mate Ryo actually caused over a pair of rather fetching Orange tracky bottoms. They weren’t mine by the way. A few years after The Quad closed my mates & I de-camped to a club in Liverpool called McMillans. This was below Waterstones book store and is now some shite 70’s club just off Concert Square. This was a brilliant time for music when I first started to dabble in Indie, as it was the start of Britpop. My general attire around this time was when I first started wearing shirts. I always remember this superb silk number that usually caught the eye of a few fine females in Macs. This was also a rather memorable time in music as it was the first time I heard Loaded by Primal Scream. I remember having this most amazing feeling when I first heard the trumpets to the intro. I still, to this day, get shivers up my spine when I hear that song. This was also the time Suede and Blur released their debut albums. They were fantastic albums. But, me being the tit I was, I started to wear the front of my shirt tied in a knot for some unknown pissed reason. After a few mates telling me I looked like a complete twat and also looking like Tom Cruise in cocktail I reluctantly started to fasten my shirt buttons up in case I was mistaken for an extra from a Wham video. The ten or so years that followed saw me & friends vigorously follow the Indie music scene to venues across Liverpool such as The L2, Liquidation, Le Bateau & The Mardi Gras to name a few. One memorable night in The L2 we wished Bone a fond farewell as he was going to live in Australia (he stayed for 6 weeks I remember, last time I put in for a friggin’ leaving present I can tell ye) That night I remember us all wearing cork hats in honour of our departing friend, but this was also the time I started to branch out (quite literally) in the shirt department. Although many of my mates have attempted to copy my style in shirts (Rodders & Roberts being the main culprits who have come close, but sadly failed miserably) I have always managed to come up with ‘the goods’ and created many talking points during nights out. My all time favourite was the famous ‘Apples’ Shirt. Remember it? Mart once famously described me when I wore it as a Grey cloud passing over an orchard. I’ll give him that one. Sadly I left it in the L2 one night after doing a gig there and I was genuinely upset at my loss. Alls I can say is there is probably some cleaner still working there looking like the coolest cleaner in the world! Musically these were the days of the likes of Radiohead, The Bluetones & er … Shed Seven. Not really my cup of tea, but they kept everyone happy. While were on the subject, I thought this one incident deserved a mention. One particular person that that music kept happy was a young girl who decided to start a bit of helmet sucking on some young chap in the cavern one night. Now, I wouldn’t have minded if it was somewhere a bit dark or in the bogs, but right next to the mixing desk was a bit much for my liking (didn’t stop me watching though). Charlotte O’Toole made her disgust at this drunken sexual union rather clear by emptying her drink over the girl’s head. After that, she looking up and then did what any other decent young lady would do … and continued giving the drunken lad (who was just about holding himself up with one hand and clutching onto his plastic pint glass half full of lager in the other hand with his kex round his ankles by the way) his much deserved ‘Linford’. I often wondered if she went round to meet his parents the next day. So, there you have it. Not that you really wanted to know all this crap, but hey, who gives a shit. I’ve had a few laughs writing this and I hope you all have reading it. But, after this fashionable wander down memory lane a few things have been guaranteed with one most poignant moment that springs to mind: After many years, many clubs, many styles of clothing, many drinks and many dance floors I have finally come to the stage in my life were I realise that I dance like a dad. Still got a few good shirts to fit into though Mol