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