Not only is Blackpool an extraordinary place, but Rebellion is an extraordinary festival. It was quite anxiety-inducing to read in advance of the number of hotels that had deliberately double-booked (the air show was on at the same time), and who were turning away prospective guests. I think there are going to be rather a lot of lawsuits before next year: I'n not sure whether the proprietors realise that (a) this is illegal and (b) the punk community can be remarkably tenacious when it comes to asserting their rights.
Luckily the B&B I was booked into still had the room I'd booked, probably because it was about a mile and half from the Winter Gardens, which was rather a long walk with my guitar, merch bag and overnight bag (why didn't I just get the tram? where was my brain?). It's always part of the ritual to compare awful hotel details, but at least the room was clean.
Kettle? No.
Working TV remote? No.
Waste-paper bin? No.
Working shower? Needed two hands to absolutely wrench the dial to the 'on' position, at which point a mere dribble of scorching hot water reluctantly dripped from the shower head.
I was scheduled to do two interviews over the weekend at the Literary Stage. The first interview was with Pete Bentham of Pete Bentham and the Dinner Ladies. We met beforehand to go through the list of questions I'd prepared, mainly to see if there was anything he didn't want to talk about. He had pulled a good crowd for the lunchtime slot and despite him being nervous, the interview gradually became more relaxed. I think the best bit was when he described playing Kumbaya in church after his mum bought him a nylon-string guitar. There was a sudden rush of recognition from the audience. In fact that whole little section on religion and ethics and punk was quite a gem, but I don't think anyone recorded it, unfortunately. We noted that there was something very Deep South about the way religion and music intertwined in Liverpool. There should be more interviews online with Pete, but there's not much there. Journalists take note and do your stuff!
I went back on the tram to pick up my guitar, and on the return journey had a nice chat with an elderly chap who had been a guitarist in the sixties. We talked nerdy guitar talk all the way to town. London folk could learn a lot about good manners and community spirit from Blackpudlians; instead of fighting and pushing on the tram, people look out for those with disabilities or elders and give up their seats. Not only that, they chat with each other afterwards. Resorts like Blackpool are where people with limited means and enormous numbers of children come to have an affordable holiday. Some people in more affluent parts of the country mock people like this, but those people don't possess either the survival skills or the good manners of many of the British working class. Time and time again, I heard parents explaining to their children that they had to behave properly; I thought of some of the bratty London children whose parents just let them do whatever they want in blithe disregard of the way their behaviour affects other around them. It's a reminder every year that for some families life is incredibly tough, and that even putting food on the table is almost impossible.
That's enough philosophy for the day.
I went to the Marco Pirroni talk on the Literary Stage to start off with. He has just finished his autobiography and he said that his co-writer hadn't wanted him to expound on any of the technical stuff about his playing. Surely this should be at the heart of it. Readers need roughage! I have read so many rock and roll autobiographies, and gigs/booze/groupies/drugs/breakdowns become very predictable after a while. It's the things around the edges- the first shows, the things that go wrong, the focus on details of writing and playing- that make a distinctive performer and an interesting book to read. I said a quick hello to him afterwards before buzzing orf to the acoustic stage. I was pleased that he remembered me from the panel at the Louder than Words festival last November where we all had a very intense conversation about punk, the meaning of (postings passim).
On to the Almost Acoustic stage on Saturday afternoon. Charlie Harper was playing late afternoon and I went to sit with Yuko as she ran through the songs beforehand. She has learned his set backwards, forwards and sideways, and I sat with Gaye and Eric watching from the sidelines as he gave his crowd exactly what they wanted, and needed. They absolutely adore him, singing along. He kind of embeds himself into the crowd, performing with them as well as to them: they become as one. It's quite unusual to see an artist's ego melting away in this manner. He has been very unwell, but as soon as he sits with his people, you can see the happiness radiating from him. It's utterly charming.
I wasn't even nervous about my bit, playing all new songs telling the Darkside Truth about 1977 in Brighton. I didn't have a big crowd, but what was lacking in quantity was more than made up for in quality- and listening (a surprising number of people came up and talked to me about it afterwards). Pauline Murray, Rob and their daughter Grace were there, as were Gaye and Eric and also Violet Violet- Fliss, Cherie and their bass player. Rob Chester came too- where else does a member of the House of Commons police show up to see you play? I had to have the lyrics in front of me, and though I'd hoped to stand up (stand and deliver), an impending migraine put paid to that. But it was weird. I felt my bones turning to steel during the set. I know someone had to leave because of the content of one of my songs, but it felt so good to finally sing the truth. Bravo Gisele Pelicot for making it OK to speak up! The sound engineer completely understood what was going on, and in an odd sort of way I bonded with him over that. If the sound engineer understands your material, you've done a good gig.
Reflecting on it afterwards, I realised that I need to drop one of the songs that I've recorded (though I didn't play it on Saturday) because even I find it hard to listen to. I do need to make sure that there is a proper balance of emotionally difficult songs and more positive ones- and also that the former will have an impact in a sort of 2:1 ratio. I am going to have to find a label to release it too, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. I have mixing to do.
I'll write more later when I've had a cup of coffee.
