Crud World Domination Enterprises give you
The
Liverpool
I had started to scribe this the
following day but work commitments distracted my attention, plus I had to do
mine from memory, and a hazy memory at that, no such amateur pretensions for
Meister Crud, furiously scribbling down notes in short hand I believe!
This was the 13th
Mathew Street Festival, and the first time that more notable bands had been
included on the bill, in addition this was also the first time that The Wirral
had been included; a stage being set up on the opposing side of the
I only attended the Sunday, other
than Zombina & The Skeletones, Saturday did not have much to inspire, the
usual endless tribute bands etc etc. Sunday was also the best day weather wise,
and upon arriving at the Pier Head a healthy crowd was in attendance for the
opening band – Gold Blade. Regular readers will be aware of my high regard for
the band, to be honest it’s a bit like preaching to the converted, set opener
'AC-DC' woke the masses and at this point frontman John Robb abandoned the
stage to join the first couple of rows. A good selection of songs from all four
albums 'Strictly Hardcore', 'Black Elvis', 'Kiss My Ass' right up to 'Black
Sheep Radical' and 'Stereo Gangsta' from the current 'Rebel Songs' album. As
ever the sheer energy and passion Robb gives to each performance is incredible,
complimented by a solid band delivering riffs and bass lines that other more
punk' notables; Rancid, Offspring? would die for and all this at midday on
the Liverpool waterfront; "fucking in the streets" echoing off the
Liver Birds - magnificent.
Next on stage were Liverpool's
own Moonies, I'd not seem them before, might be something to do with their
diminutive stature! or the fact that for the last few years they have been in
gainful employment as Hobbit's, Umperlumpahs etc - As Mr Crud mentioned they
are being mentored by Pete Shelly, who obviously holds them in high regard. We
were only offered four tracks including the single 'Blue' bit difficult to
judge on such scant material but sounded pretty good, typical Buzzcocks
inspired punk rock; well worth investigating.
Shelly and Co then took to the
stage in their own right, and set about delivering their usual 1,2,3,4 Go and
don't stop till it's over set, no speech, no audience interaction just hit
after hit. All the classics were played 'Noise Annoys', 'Boredom', 'Ever Fallen
In Love With', the set lacked newer material, particularly from the recent
'Buzzcocks' album, maybe the event wasn't really the right location for the
less well known stuff? Sorry to mention it again, I will give up on it, as
Diggle obviously isn't going to - but his Spinal Tap posturing just makes me
cringe, don't even want to wonder where he got those sunglasses from - the
answer came later! Best thing about the set was as Mr C mentioned, the creation
of a mosh-pit, certainly scared the crap out of the event security, who were
obviously more used to the 'rabble' that follow Beautiful South tribute bands..
Then as the beers continued to
flow, I wisely brought my own, having been stung by the inflated prices
previously, the sun really broke through which was odd considering The Men in
Black stepped onto the stage. I'd seen The Stranglers once before, about twenty
five years ago at L'Pool Uni and was keen to reacquaint myself - Only three
members of the original band remain, Jean Jacques does not seemed to have aged
day, not sure what has happened to the drummer, seems to have morphed into Mr
Creosote from Monty Python, and despite his best efforts frontman xx is not a
patch on Hugh Cornwell. Some great songs were played, 'Golden Brown', 'Skin
Deep', 'Always The Sun', 'Peaches' in what seemed to be a more sedate set,
though the aforementioned security guards kept that 'rabbits in headlights look
on their faces in front of the more energetic revellers, and yes as Mr C
mentioned I was forced to more to a more respectable distance - prevented me
punching the prick in the Lurkers top who insisted on standing on my heirs
toes.
At this point I lost sight of Mr
& Mrs Crud, otherwise known as The Secretary, who I was pleased to discover
has a real name. Judging by Neil's review I reckon he made good his escape back
to the hills at this point, those of us with a stronger constitution remained
and were treated to a set from Carolyn Goode, never heard of her myself,
apparently she came 112th on last years Fame Academy abortion? - Give her due
she cam out to a fairly disinterested crowd, other than the boys chanting 'get
your tit's out' Handled them pretty well, looked very pretty and in fairness
she can sing, not my sort of stuff, all covers typical of Fame Academy
entrants, and then it was onto the apparent highlight of the day, Tony
Christie.
Accompanied by a 10+ piece band
including two blond backing singers dressed as is the law in gold
lame'; he stepped onto stage in a purple two piece suite, resplendent in
Cuban heels - this guys wardrobe has obviously been cryogenically frozen
from about 1972, though Tony, bless him hasn't. He did have some great
sunglasses, looked remarkably similar to those worn by Steve Diggle; can anyone
from wardrobe comment? Opened with his 1973 hit 'Avenues and Alleyways'
which was entertaining in a were all pissed in the sunshine type way. Actually
felt a bit sorry for Tony, as the entire crowd, now over 10,000 strong were
only there for one song, and God did he makes us wait - Over an hour of crooner
classics interspersed with a Beatles melody, before putting us out of our
misery as he closed with 'Amarillo'.
By that stage I too had enough
and retired to the more comfortable surroundings of Est Est Est in the Albert
Dock, only to be joined on the next table by one of the blond backing singers
still in gold lame'. All in all a great day, awesome performance from Gold
Blade, if you ain't seen them yet, do so soon as, also start saving for the
soon to be released live DVD, Buzzcocks were good as were The Stranglers, now
we can begin the wait for next year, when if all goes according to plan
Voodoo 7:2 will be taking to the stage.
Phil Newall - From a lager soaked
memory
