Kiss, Ozzy Osbourne, Sepultura, Korn, Type O Negative, Dog Eat Dog & Fear Factory
I love Kiss, and the chance to see the original line-up in full make-up was enough to bring me out of Donington retirement. There were rockets, Gene flew up to the lights to sing “God Of Thunder” and Paul really started to get on my nerves with his on-stage banter.
PS: Every since we formed Kiss we wanted to come to Donington and kick your ass!
Me: Bollocks Stanley, Kiss formed in 1972 and this event didn't start until 1980!
The woman in front turns around to me.
Woman: Look I've driven up all the way from Cornwall for this and you are pissing me off. Will you shut the fuck up!
Me: And who's gonna make me?
Woman: Him!
She nods towards her boyfriend. He is about seven feet tall with muscles on his teeth. I agree to shut up. Cue Duckworth standing next to me to throw in as many interjections as possible. Safe to say he and I never went to a gig together again.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
MONSTERS OF ROCK Castle Donington, August 16th 1986
Ozzy Osbourne, Scorpions, Def Leppard, Motörhead, Bad News & Warlock
And so my cherry was popped! We won the tickets in a competition in our local paper, they had three pairs of tickets, we entered over 30 times and won twice. Castle Donington is a short drive away from my home, so my Dad is roped in to drop us off: I'm not sure what he makes of the hordes of denim, leather and grease that make up the crowd trudging into the race track though. Armed with two litre PET bottles of Trent Bitter (cheap, nasty but gets you there) we make our way into the arena. Anyone going to a festival today will expect multiple stages, a fun fair, stalls shelling hippy shit, that type of thing, back in 1986 there was just the one stage, you either listened to the band on offer or drank.
We stand stage right for a while, amazed at the number of people there and recognised Xavier Russell from Kerrang! doing the same. It was then that Trent Bitter hit bladder.
Festival toilets are stuff of legend. Without sounding like a grumpy old git, the kids today don't know they're born. It was an unwritten rule that any sanitary facilities should be rendered useless after three uses, so we headed off to the woods to find a quiet spot for a piss. A tree was found and I'm half way through splashing second hand bitter at it when a lass walks by, drops her jeans revealing a mega hairy muff and relives herself. I jokingly tell her that this is the gents, she curses me in German (explaining her hirsute condition) and carries on regardless.
First band is Warlock, fronted by the delightful (pre-cocaine) Doro Pesch, we decide to go down the front and find ourselves next to a bunch of Hells Angels who happen to be passing a strange smelling pipe around, drugs! another first! One of them then decides he's not walking to the woods for a piss, shouts something like “Excuse me fellow concert goers, I am about to void my bladder, you may wish to evacuate the area” and pisses on a few legs in front of him. No one argues, he has bike parts in his beard and sick.
Now as far as spoof heavy metal bands go I'd take Bad News over Spinal Tap any day, but taking up a slot at the most prestigious metal event on the calender? This is being filmed for the show “More Bad News” and having been there, what appeared in the show wasn't really what happened. They got bottled of course, with makeshift toilets flying through the air like brown plastic rain, I even cop one on the head, but musically they were okay. Alan (sorry, Vim) got the crowd chanting “Fuck off Bad News” before announcing the song “Fuck Off Castle Donington” and the rather wonderful “Devil's Spunk Merchants From Hell” is rolled out. We even sang along to their theme song.
A trip to the woods later and it's Motörhead time, touring the new line-up. Someone throws a firework on stage and Lemmy threatens to walk unless the culprit is found. It is assumed he gets a good kicking for his trouble.
Def Leppard make their debut as a nine-arm band and play lots of stuff from “Pyromania” and a couple of new tracks from “Hysteria” which at that point was looking like it would never come out. Very entertaining for a band who went downhill from that moment.
The slot of the day fell to Scorpions, the sun sets behind the stage as they play, and it was an almost note for note version of their “World Wide Live” album. Then it was Ozzy time. We moved further back for this one, the crowd had become increasingly drunker, with cheap beer making way for cheap vodka. I'd like to say I remember a lot about his set, but it's very vague indeed. Ozzy remembers about the same, so I guess that makes it okay then.
And so my cherry was popped! We won the tickets in a competition in our local paper, they had three pairs of tickets, we entered over 30 times and won twice. Castle Donington is a short drive away from my home, so my Dad is roped in to drop us off: I'm not sure what he makes of the hordes of denim, leather and grease that make up the crowd trudging into the race track though. Armed with two litre PET bottles of Trent Bitter (cheap, nasty but gets you there) we make our way into the arena. Anyone going to a festival today will expect multiple stages, a fun fair, stalls shelling hippy shit, that type of thing, back in 1986 there was just the one stage, you either listened to the band on offer or drank.
We stand stage right for a while, amazed at the number of people there and recognised Xavier Russell from Kerrang! doing the same. It was then that Trent Bitter hit bladder.
Festival toilets are stuff of legend. Without sounding like a grumpy old git, the kids today don't know they're born. It was an unwritten rule that any sanitary facilities should be rendered useless after three uses, so we headed off to the woods to find a quiet spot for a piss. A tree was found and I'm half way through splashing second hand bitter at it when a lass walks by, drops her jeans revealing a mega hairy muff and relives herself. I jokingly tell her that this is the gents, she curses me in German (explaining her hirsute condition) and carries on regardless.
First band is Warlock, fronted by the delightful (pre-cocaine) Doro Pesch, we decide to go down the front and find ourselves next to a bunch of Hells Angels who happen to be passing a strange smelling pipe around, drugs! another first! One of them then decides he's not walking to the woods for a piss, shouts something like “Excuse me fellow concert goers, I am about to void my bladder, you may wish to evacuate the area” and pisses on a few legs in front of him. No one argues, he has bike parts in his beard and sick.
Now as far as spoof heavy metal bands go I'd take Bad News over Spinal Tap any day, but taking up a slot at the most prestigious metal event on the calender? This is being filmed for the show “More Bad News” and having been there, what appeared in the show wasn't really what happened. They got bottled of course, with makeshift toilets flying through the air like brown plastic rain, I even cop one on the head, but musically they were okay. Alan (sorry, Vim) got the crowd chanting “Fuck off Bad News” before announcing the song “Fuck Off Castle Donington” and the rather wonderful “Devil's Spunk Merchants From Hell” is rolled out. We even sang along to their theme song.
A trip to the woods later and it's Motörhead time, touring the new line-up. Someone throws a firework on stage and Lemmy threatens to walk unless the culprit is found. It is assumed he gets a good kicking for his trouble.
Def Leppard make their debut as a nine-arm band and play lots of stuff from “Pyromania” and a couple of new tracks from “Hysteria” which at that point was looking like it would never come out. Very entertaining for a band who went downhill from that moment.
The slot of the day fell to Scorpions, the sun sets behind the stage as they play, and it was an almost note for note version of their “World Wide Live” album. Then it was Ozzy time. We moved further back for this one, the crowd had become increasingly drunker, with cheap beer making way for cheap vodka. I'd like to say I remember a lot about his set, but it's very vague indeed. Ozzy remembers about the same, so I guess that makes it okay then.
BOYZONE NEC, Birmingham 6th October 1998
It seems fitting to write about my oddest gig, this being the day that Boyzone's Stephen Gately avoided the biggest hangover of his life.
My excuse is four words: Claire wanted to go.
Did I enjoy myself? Well they put on an entertaining show, decent lights, set and costume changes and I did know most of the songs, but I couldn't take the screaming. In particular the two young ladies in the seats in front, who if there is any justice in the world, permanently damaged their vocal chords and now have to communicate via notes scribbled on paper. Gately's version of “Bright Eyes” will stay with me forever: camper than a pink camper van. Here's to your memory fella, cheers!
My excuse is four words: Claire wanted to go.
Did I enjoy myself? Well they put on an entertaining show, decent lights, set and costume changes and I did know most of the songs, but I couldn't take the screaming. In particular the two young ladies in the seats in front, who if there is any justice in the world, permanently damaged their vocal chords and now have to communicate via notes scribbled on paper. Gately's version of “Bright Eyes” will stay with me forever: camper than a pink camper van. Here's to your memory fella, cheers!
Why?
My first gig was the Monsters Of Rock at Castle Donington on 16th August 1986: a delightful mix of cheap beer, piss and heavy fucking metal. Since then I've been to, well, a hell of lot, more than I can remember, which is the point of doing this blog. I tried to write a list of every band I've seen and failed miserably, perhaps this will help jog my memory? I plan to write about gigs I've just seen and those from many years ago. And yes I did see Cliff!
MASTERS OF REALITY Rescue Rooms, Nottingham 10th October 2009
Rather than buy Andy a bunch of flowers for his birthday, I decided to take him to see a legend instead: Chris Goss. We were lucky enough to see Masters at the Wulfrun Hall in 2002 when Josh Homme and Nick Oliveri were part of the touring band. That night was magical, tonight wasn't.
We're both tired: I was at work the previous night and Andy was partying 'til the small hours, but our spirits are lifted when we see Matt from Reading Festival who pops over for a chat whilst Andy is having a smoke.
The band is slightly delayed going on, which we find is due to them waiting until Mark has got here. A nice touch! Mark has just got back from Grimsby, from seeing the Albion bag three points and he's tired as well. Three 40 somethings painting the town, not so much red, more a light shade of pink.
The band come on to rapturous applause and the man next to me does the “we're not worthy” thing, and they launch rather predictably in to two songs of the new album “Pine Cross/Dover” which is not looking to be their best. To be fair the crowd is here for the classics and when they play these the gig is good, when they don't, which appears to be for about half of the time, things go really flat. During “Third Man On The Moon” I am visited by the Official Gig Cunt, who insists on dancing right in front of me, his girly blond hair hitting my face. He gets a few shoves in the back and leaves to ply his trade elsewhere.
The strict 10pm curfew is flouted with a “fuck it” from Chris and we're treated to “She Got Me (When She Got Her Dress On)”, Mark sings along in delight as he used to cover this in one of his past bands. Then it's over, there is no time for “Blue Garden” which people have been shouting for all night, and it's only then I realise how much the crowd has thinned out. Perhaps they have really early last buses in Nottingham?
We're both tired: I was at work the previous night and Andy was partying 'til the small hours, but our spirits are lifted when we see Matt from Reading Festival who pops over for a chat whilst Andy is having a smoke.
The band is slightly delayed going on, which we find is due to them waiting until Mark has got here. A nice touch! Mark has just got back from Grimsby, from seeing the Albion bag three points and he's tired as well. Three 40 somethings painting the town, not so much red, more a light shade of pink.
The band come on to rapturous applause and the man next to me does the “we're not worthy” thing, and they launch rather predictably in to two songs of the new album “Pine Cross/Dover” which is not looking to be their best. To be fair the crowd is here for the classics and when they play these the gig is good, when they don't, which appears to be for about half of the time, things go really flat. During “Third Man On The Moon” I am visited by the Official Gig Cunt, who insists on dancing right in front of me, his girly blond hair hitting my face. He gets a few shoves in the back and leaves to ply his trade elsewhere.
The strict 10pm curfew is flouted with a “fuck it” from Chris and we're treated to “She Got Me (When She Got Her Dress On)”, Mark sings along in delight as he used to cover this in one of his past bands. Then it's over, there is no time for “Blue Garden” which people have been shouting for all night, and it's only then I realise how much the crowd has thinned out. Perhaps they have really early last buses in Nottingham?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
