A Cheap Holiday in
Other People's Misery??
HOLIDAYS IN THE SUN
PUNK ROCK FESTIVAL
MORECAMBE UK
JUNE 4TH - 6TH 1999
DAY 1
I hear you say.Well it wasn't that cheap,not collectively anyway,but who gives a fuck about money. And personally, I thought,eventually
that it was such a good laugh that the only misery was for all the people that never went.More fool you with all you're wet excuses and
dribble of other commitments.
Fuck Benidorm for once, this was a better event to use for a summer holiday,(or one of them anyway ha-ha), and judging by some of
the nationalities that I bumped into they must have thought the same. For instance I spoke to more foreigners in one day than I ever
have, when I haven't actually been in another country,in fact they spoke better English than what I did.The countries that were on duty were the likes
such as; America, France, Germany, Holland, Switzerland, Romania!, Wales?, and of course England. And out of all that lot there was not one ounce
of agg.Which just goes to show what we all knew to be true anyhow,and that the bunch of wankers in the media should come to see for
themselves,rather than still living with the myths that exist from the past.
I actually asked one bloke from a burger van if he had any problems with any of the punks. He said that they were all totally sound people and they
never gave him any trouble whatsoever,and that he looked forward to this weekend because it is his best of the year for trade.I spose that sort of
response says it all really.
Well I set off from my house in Bristol at 8.30 am on Friday morning,in the biggest heap of shit imaginable,which was supposedly masquerading as a
hire van and was going to be my home for the next few days.I went and picked my mate and his bird up,and then set off up the motorway to pick Peter
Don't Care up from Wolves [about time someone famous was mentioned - PDC] on the way through.After a brief stop and a tour round the "Wolf's
Lair" we was off.
Back to the M6,and what better way to get a punk festival started than by putting on a "Sex Pistols" gig on the stereo,it was from the Glasgow gig in
1996,that certainly helped me to get into the swing of things.After a few other tapes had played their duration up sprung junction 34, time to get off.
So following the road into Lancaster and driving around for half an hour trying to find the sea front with no avail,we decided to ask some bloke where
Marine Road was, who with a smile on his face gladly informed us that this was Lancaster! So you wanna go down to the end of here,turn right and it
is about three miles down the road!! What a start.
After finding Morecambe,the next obstacle was getting to a cash point. No problem, only 20 minutes to find one.Then onto the sea front and there it
was the polo tower.It said the venue was next to that.But just by looking round you could see that X kind of marked the spot, or in this case the sea of
spiky coloured hair. After driving too far past the Arena, we turned round and headed back into it's direction when it started pissing down, back
outside it had suddenly become empty and dead,all the punks had disappeared.After a couple more times up and down the sea front looking for
some where to park, the rain had stopped and the pavement was full again.
Eventually we found an empty back street,to park up. It was called Albany Road (remember it Peter?). It was now about 3 O'clock,so after a modest
drive of over six hours,our fucking heap of shit mobile had done it's work, for the day and it was now time to get "On It ".
The first boozer that we came to back on the sea front was called "The Ranch" so we went in there.Well not a bad start they were selling cans of Red
Stripe for a quid. So Peter immediately got down to business and started flogging the zine to some of the punks that were already in there, and then
Andy and his bird said that they was off, and so they went in to watch "Sick on the Bus",and then I dont actually remember seeing them again for the
rest of the day.
Then for some reason, maybe because he was flogging them too well perhaps? Peter decided to lose the rest of the zines instead. Fuck knows where
they went because I watched him put them into his pocket,and then when he tried to sell a few more they had gone?So clutching at straws he went
over to the pool table and asked the previous customer if he had seen them,of course fucking not.[When you got holes in your pockets as big as
mine, you'd lose the whole of St. Pauls in there. That'll teach me for sleeping on punks floors next to their hounds and waking up with a fucking dog
chewing my jacket coat! - PDC]
He probably had them and was gonna sell them himself ( ha-ha! ).
We was certainly firing down the Red Stripe at a rate of knots in the Ranch,and I remember seeing the bird behind the ramp bring out a new tray at
some point of the proceedings. Then for a while we got into a discussion with some Skins from Wallsall [later that night i found out the same hard as
nails Walsall skins had to be put to bed at the ungodly hour of 9 0'oclock! ha! - PDC] ,and then it was time to go to the Dome to pick up the admission
wrist bands to get in with.
It was a bit of a fucking trek to this place so we stopped off in a couple more boozers on the way.One of them was the "Sportsmans Bar " and it was
part of the Arena, but next door.
It was just me and Peter by now and fuck knows what the time was but the beer count was approaching double figures.When we got through a couple
more in the Sportsman me and Peter got chatting about our favourite subject the "Sex Pistols" [Hey you at the back stop yawning - PDC]. We was
swapping anecdotes that we both had on the band,then for some reason we got onto the subject of Caerphilly,and after laughing about the idiots who
over reacted from that area, we both started singing really loudly "Sleep in Heavenly Peace", for ages and pissing ourselves with laughter
(for those of you who are familiar with the Sex Pistols you will know what I'm on about, those that aren't don't count) then at this point as luck would
have it a geezer came up to us and started chatting about the same thing, and then said that some cunt had let him down and would we buy his spare
tickets from him ? Well I already had mine, so it was down to Peter to start negotiations, he ended up getting 2 day tickets for 25 quid, so not a bad
deal there.[Who said us Wolverhampton cunts were all dumb bastards!? - PDC]
We left there and started for the Dome but there was another boozer in the way so we had to stop in it.Not for long though,it was to pretentious and to
fucking expensive.
Outside the Dome was a bit of a queue so that was a shit having to wait,especially as Lee Havoc from One Way System was stood behind me being
a cocky little shit and trying to be funny.Nice try mate but it wasn't working.
Eventually got the tickets,and headed back into the Sportsman, it was nicely filling with punks especially punkettes,and some of them were fucking
gorgeous.I couldn't stop staring at them.After a couple more in there it was starting to get close to the time to go next door and see some of the bands
that were left to play.As I was stood at the bar Charlie Harper walked in,he had some kind of wooly hat on his head,and matched with the other gear
he was wearing, alongside his well lived in facial features,I thought it was a fucking tramp,who had just come in out the cold.Anyhow he was quite
polite when I asked him what time he was playing," about half hour ", so I thought I would be there in time to watch them.So we caned yet another jar
and wandered in.
U.K. Subs had already started,so I carried on and watched them.The only one I can remember was Stranglehold,but that was pretty good,so not a
bad starter.Until I went to the bar that is, I asked someone what the time was and it had gone 11, so next door was shut, and the robbing bastards
were now charging £2.40 for a pint compared with £1.40 all day next door.What a cunt,I eventually got served and the beer was like gnats piss.I
think they over did it with the river water.Then walking round with Pete he bumped into one of the guys from Red Flag '77,who had a stall there, I dont
really know what happened to Pete but after [Me neither? -PDC] that I lost him. So I walked round on my own for a bit,and the next band came on.I
must have read the line up in the programme a thousand times but I still couldn't remember what the fuck it was.
I watched this band for a bit wandering who the fuck it was, and then they suddenly played Boston Babies, I couldn't believe my fucking eyes it was
Slaughter and the Dogs, they didn't look much like I remember from days gone by. It was like watching a bunch of office staff who were doing a gig
in leather jeans etc.. all ready to change back ready for the office on Monday.What a shock, they didn't play to badly though.And then contrary to
further discussions with another bloke later in the weekend,I am fucking sure there is no way they did "Anarchy in the U.K.,"but he was adamant that
they did.The place would have gone up if they had.Maybe I was out for a piss and missed it but that would have been the only way.Even the mess I
was in I would have remembered that.But just in case if anyone out there can tell me otherwise, let the editor know,if I am wrong.
Next up were the Damned who I was quite up for seeing,as they had played in Bristol a month earlier and I thought were pretty good.So I stocked up
again from the bar,and made my way through the hordes towards the front.Fuck knows the time when they eventually staggered on,but from the first
note it set the mood for me for the whole set. What a fucking let down, I dont know what it was but they were a load of bollocks. I thought they
stank,maybe I was expecting to much.I dont see why though they produced it before down here earlier.Then to cap it all off they never played Smash
It Up!
I finished my beer and walked around to see if I could find anyone but I couldn't.There was an after show set so I had a look at that from the
balcony.When I got downstairs,I noticed the guitarist was wearing a "Never Mind The Bollocks " T shirt,so I stayed and gave them a watch and they
were not bad at all,so I investigated a little and found that they were the Pink Torpedoes.
By now I had about as much as my capacity could hold so I went outside,there were a few people about,but I staggered off towards what I thought was
the direction of the van.Only, inevitably it wasn't, I remembered there being a hill but I wasn't sure if this was it,and then my luck changed there was
two people heading towards me,"Fuck me Paul,where have you been?" I heard a shout,it was Andy and he had just come from the van.So to my relief
he took me to where we had parked.There was no sign of Pete, and I said there was not a chance in hell of him ever finding this.Andy and Roser
curled up in the back and I led out in the front,a bit later I woke up and it felt like I had been asleep for hours,but I needed a piss so I went in the
hedge opposite.Still no sign of Pete,so I nodded off again.A bit later still, there was a tapping on the side of the van,and in that ace inimitable accent
of his you could hear Andy! Andy!,So we got up and let him in.I told him that I never thought he would find the van,to which he confessed that he
didn't and that he only remembered the road we was parked on and got a taxi!! [When you've been lost as many times as I have, you soon learn a
few trix! - PDC]
After a discussion of the days proceedings it eventually led to a crescendo of snoring,at fuck knows what time.
DAY 2
When I woke later at least it was light out this time.This was the day for me.The one I was up for, the line up was shit hot for Saturday.After the relief of
still being alive from the day before,I shook my head and looked at the clock it was a little before ten.I was suffering from a fucking elephant of a
headache,probably something to do with the fifteen pints we had got through the day before.
We had all woken by now,and I noticed that Andy's hand was covered in blood.He reckoned that he had been in a scrape during pogoing.
But I later found an empty tampax wrapper under my sleeping bag,so I guess that kind of gave the game away a bit.
So after a wash and brush up in the plush surroundings of the public abolutions on the sea front it was time to get back to the task in hand,surviving
another day of punk rock over indulgence.
So meanwhile back at the "Ranch" a tasty Red Stripe was the order of the day,yet again!! The first couple went down as if they had lumps in them.But
after a sluggish start things soon picked up.Well I did anyhow.The Wolves contingent of the marathon was floundering badly in this particular leg of
the race.And I seemed to be pulling away from the field with relative ease.Especially in the Sportsman where I departed to watch Beerzone leaving
the flagging Black Countryman stooped over a table staring at his pint. [bubbles in a pint glass are fascinating sometimes y'know - PDC]
I joined Beerzone as they had just come on.They were doing their tribute to Jerry Springer song.They flew through a few more with such speed and
power that I was wondering why the fuck they weren't on a bit later when there could be more than the 50 or so people watching to appreciate
them.Then came their tribute to a certain over indulgent Middlesbrough footballer,with the tune ripped from Jimmy,Jimmy,called instead
Gazza,Gazza.After a couple more was their version of Alternative Ulster which was better than SLF actually play it and faster with a bit more heart and
bollocks.Not a bad start to the day.
So I made my way back next door where some guy was chatting to Peter Dont Care,but he was still taking up the stoop position and not seeming to be
taking much notice.From this point I tried to up the tempo a bit,to which I got minimal response but it was working gradually.
I had decided to concentrate on the Football in the afternoon,England were playing Sweden at Wembley and they had a big screen in this gaff to
watch it on.As kick off approached the place started to fill with spiked tops all interested in the game.Peter had livened up a bit by now and was
chatting to the people sat next to us,one of which was the punk version of Reg Holdsworth.He even sounded like him,with the glasses et al..The only
visible difference being the multi coloured hair and 45 face piercings.He didn't mind being referred to in this vein though.In fact, proved to be a better
source of entertainment than the total load of bollocks that England were dishing up.
As we've come to expect from England the footy was so shit we decided to move back to the Ranch for cheaper beer.Where the music on the stereo
was getting better with a decent punk compilation being played.In fact when Anarchy started playing Peter got up and pogoed with a skin that had
joined in.At this point Peter spotted a Sid look a like called Kev from Bradford who we got chatting to about the weekend so far.Things seemed to be
livening up a bit with the Sex Pistols coming on at regular intervals and by now the table was full of empty R.S.. cans.
Then as a kind of auto-cue when God Save The Queen came on Alan Parker the guy currently working on the finishing touches of a new Pistols book
and a couple of his mates walked in,talk about spontaniety.What a fucking sesh it was turning out to be.Any questions that we had about the new
Sex Pistols film were answered, seeing as Alan has already seen it.There was no end of chat going between all of us,it was good to find some other
people that were interested in the same subject as us, and who we could have proper discussions with about the band.They also didn't seem to mind
buying us beers in their rounds either which was a bonus.Although,saying that, the cost of some of Alan's books in the past, it was only fucking right
that he bought a few extra rounds!!He reckons that I am in the new book as part of the Filthy Lucre section on the Paris gig that I went to,or was he
just saying that to get me to buy a copy (Ha-Ha) ??? Never mind I'll go to WHSmiths and read through it first just to make sure.He was telling us that
him and his mate have got the best Pistols collection that anyone knows of.To which I took great delight in gloating , about owning a certain item that
they do not!! Also Peter had one up on them aswell because he saw the Pistols in '77 and shook Johnny's hand [thats why i wear gloves - PDC] ,and
they never saw them first time round..
I guess this could have gone on all night but it was time to head off,so they gave us a demo C.D. each, of the band that they were promoting ( both of
which Peter Dont Care somehow managed to lose) [Those god damn holes again!!!! - PDC] and went in to watch Vice Squad, although One Way
System were still playing when we got in there and Lee looked a bit silly with his mohecan tied in a pony tail?? [Sacrilege!!! - PDC]
All I can remember about Vice Squad was how sexy Beki was looking and that I wanted to shag her.And I think they played City Rockers, maybe, my
head was in a spin? Then back to the queue at the bar of about 30 people at any one time and only 2 barstaff,typical.The next band is usually on by
the time you get served.
On this occasion it was Anti-Nowhere League,they were fucking brilliant.Kicking off with their signature " We are the League " and flying through
songs new and old.I recognised mostly the old stuff with such greats as Lets Break the Law,Cant Stand Rock 'N' Roll, Woman,I Hate People,Streets of
London and for their last number the perfect end to the set was " So What "....
As per usual I had lost Peter by now, but by the time The Dickies came on about midnight I was starting to get a bit wobbly on my feet.And I only
remembered a couple of songs from their set.They played fucking well though.Especially Paranoid,and Leonard as usual singing with one finger
wedged into his left ear, and there was no forgetting their finish either as they blasted out the anthemic classic the "Banana Splits "!!!
After they had finished I had lost every other fucker,and after over 13 hours on the piss I was feeling the pace slightly [bullshitter...you were wrecked -
PDC]. I had a walk round upstairs and found a gap on the railing of the balcony on which I lean't over waiting for the next band..It must have been
about 1 a.m. by now, and then Sham 69 came on.This for me was the best band of the whole weekend, none of them were that bad but for some
reason Sham did the bizzo and I thought they were fucking superb.They have been going since 1975 and this was the first time that I have managed
to catch them ( better later than never,I spose ), the highlights for me were Hersham Boys, Hurry up Harry,If the Kids are United,and Borstal Breakout.
For the encore they did a couple of tracks from the new album and the last number was Borstal Breakout again which certainly livened me up for a
finale............
As luck would have it I bumped into Peter and Andy on the way out, so on the way back to the van,we were all in agreement that I had out drunk Peter
for the day as he had been struggling for the first part.[My time would come tomorrow - PDC]
And then just as everything else that I had given to him to look after, he informed me that he had lost all the different flyers that I had given him aswell,
ohh well what the fuck.
That night I certainly got off to sleep better than the previous one, I was fucked by the time I got in to the van, and it must have been about 3a.m......
DAY 3
Everything was ready and in place by 11 a.m. on Sunday.Just enough time to go into town to the cash point and have a fry up before opening time.
So back to the Ranch, and after a small deliberation,guess what we ordered a can of ? You guessed it, Red Stripe.The mood was a bit sombre for a
while as yet again the ale seemed to have lumps in it.[In the Bristol corner it may have been but I was up and rarrin to go after a Trad. British overhaul
- PDC]. After forcing down the first couple, things were gradually beginning to kick start.It seemed like every time I went to cough that my insides were
gonna fall out.The Wallsall skins turned up,and they were in the same mood as I had been in, the day before as the line up today was suited to
them,and they were all up for it.After discussing the merits or not of wearing white laces,it was time to move on.
In the Sportsmans bar Peter had heard a rumour that for a small donation the geezer behind the ramp would let people through to the Arena round
the back.So after a small investigation,he was sent away with a flea in his ear.After being told by the spotty little cunt,that it was more than his job was
worth ?? Anyone would have thought that he was asking him to commit murder or summit. Although,junior barman in a small seaside resort must have
some clout??(Ha-Ha).. So resigned to shelling out another 20 quid for the day Pete fucked off to the Dome for a ticket.
In walked Andy and said they had just watched the Warriors, who had played pretty well.He asked where Pete had gone,I told him that he had fucked
off again.What again?He's always doing that.He then walked back in.And told Andy that he couldn't scab his way in round the back,and had to buy a
ticket.We had a few in the Sportsmans and when Pete was at the bar, Andy said a classic line to me;"I tell you what mate,for somebody who is
skint,old Pete doesn't seem to do to badly.Everytime I see him, he's at the fucking bar buying the drinks". What can you do?? I said. Holding my hands
up with a smile on my face.........[All I can say to that is when your dragged up in Wolves you soon learn to make the most of your resources - PDC]
We went next door to see Oxymoron.It was quite easy to tell what day it was.There was more skins now than punks unlike the last couple of
days,when it was the reverse.Everyone was mixing quite well though,and there wasn't any sign of bother.Why should there be,we were all there for
the same reason, to have a good laugh.Oxymoron were fucking brilliant,they were fast and powerful,you could see the aggression in the singer 's
face as he fired out the lyrics.At times aswell he would jump down off the stage and pass the mike to the crowd to sing for him.[Best band of the 3
whole days for me - PDC] There was a decent crowd of pogoers by now and the Arena was fully charged,especially by the set this band had played.
Someone at the bar was telling us of a decent boozer down the road so we decided to check it out.It was called the Bath Arms,and had a quality punk
jukebox.When we got there it wasn't quite as I had pictured it would be, but it was full of punks so that was alright.The blokes out of Contempt were in
there and looking a bit jaded [what do ya expect from Brummies! - PDC] (knew the feeling,by then),we ended up chatting to a couple of blokes from
Grimsby,about punk in general.I guess we stayed in there longer than we should have.But what the fuck, the juker was alright and we had a
laugh,although I still never found a gaff that played "Bodies".
Got back to the Arena just in time to see the last one or two by Peter A.T.T.T.Babies,I think one of them was Maniac.All four of us were back in the
lobby chatting by now.So when the Dropkick Murphys came on it wasn't far to see them.We had been listening to them in the van earlier,so I was
well up for seeing them.They were fucking superb and definately will be well worth another look in the future,they are on the up,and by this
performance it was easy to see why.The crowd was going ape shit all through out the set, and the singer was going all along the front rows handing
out the mike for a bit of guest vocalising.Superb.......
Back out in the lobby and the bar prices had stemmed the pace a bit but it was still happening.I wasn't to bothered about watching The Business,so
Andy sent his bird in to watch them on her own while we stayed at the bar discussing what a shit hot time we had,had. After the finish I saw Danny the
stage crew bloke from Bristol who confirmed that The Dickies were playing in Bristol, that night. Fucking typical I said,Well what would you prefer, that
or this he said, pointing at the stage.Well I would have liked to have seen them again but there was no contest really.
Outside,we chatted to a couple of people that we had met over the weekend,and asked them to write their accounts of events,for the zine.Then it was
time to find the van again,piece of piss by now.Me and Pete both agreed [No we fucking didn't! - PDC] that the day had been an evenly matched
session,unlike the day before, and that he had redeemed himself after a crap previous display.
There was plenty of wake up powder on offer back at the van but I decided to abstain,knowing what a cunt of a drive I had ahead of me.
The next morning seemed a bit weird,everything was ready for the off,by about half eleven.We drove along the sea front and past the Arena,it was
dead with not a punk or skin in sight,the Ranch was quiet and empty,and probably how it was gonna stay,with not much going to be able to beat the
racket that we had made in there. With a six fucking hour drive home ahead of me,I couldn't give a fuck.What a fucking weekend it had been and
here's to the next one.
Morecambe 2000? Someone has since asked ,try fucking stopping me!!!!..
As a Punk stalwart once said........" Everyone keeps saying Punks dead. You all here know Punks Not Dead."....
Well that was in 1981,and events like this prove that punk, Has been, Is and Probably always will be, in the minority,for those that understand it
properly......................But it is far from being Dead !!!!..............................
PAUL K.
This review was first published in the Spunk! Newsletter 1999.
Other People's Misery??
HOLIDAYS IN THE SUN
PUNK ROCK FESTIVAL
MORECAMBE UK
JUNE 4TH - 6TH 1999
DAY 1
I hear you say.Well it wasn't that cheap,not collectively anyway,but who gives a fuck about money. And personally, I thought,eventually
that it was such a good laugh that the only misery was for all the people that never went.More fool you with all you're wet excuses and
dribble of other commitments.
Fuck Benidorm for once, this was a better event to use for a summer holiday,(or one of them anyway ha-ha), and judging by some of
the nationalities that I bumped into they must have thought the same. For instance I spoke to more foreigners in one day than I ever
have, when I haven't actually been in another country,in fact they spoke better English than what I did.The countries that were on duty were the likes
such as; America, France, Germany, Holland, Switzerland, Romania!, Wales?, and of course England. And out of all that lot there was not one ounce
of agg.Which just goes to show what we all knew to be true anyhow,and that the bunch of wankers in the media should come to see for
themselves,rather than still living with the myths that exist from the past.
I actually asked one bloke from a burger van if he had any problems with any of the punks. He said that they were all totally sound people and they
never gave him any trouble whatsoever,and that he looked forward to this weekend because it is his best of the year for trade.I spose that sort of
response says it all really.
Well I set off from my house in Bristol at 8.30 am on Friday morning,in the biggest heap of shit imaginable,which was supposedly masquerading as a
hire van and was going to be my home for the next few days.I went and picked my mate and his bird up,and then set off up the motorway to pick Peter
Don't Care up from Wolves [about time someone famous was mentioned - PDC] on the way through.After a brief stop and a tour round the "Wolf's
Lair" we was off.
Back to the M6,and what better way to get a punk festival started than by putting on a "Sex Pistols" gig on the stereo,it was from the Glasgow gig in
1996,that certainly helped me to get into the swing of things.After a few other tapes had played their duration up sprung junction 34, time to get off.
So following the road into Lancaster and driving around for half an hour trying to find the sea front with no avail,we decided to ask some bloke where
Marine Road was, who with a smile on his face gladly informed us that this was Lancaster! So you wanna go down to the end of here,turn right and it
is about three miles down the road!! What a start.
After finding Morecambe,the next obstacle was getting to a cash point. No problem, only 20 minutes to find one.Then onto the sea front and there it
was the polo tower.It said the venue was next to that.But just by looking round you could see that X kind of marked the spot, or in this case the sea of
spiky coloured hair. After driving too far past the Arena, we turned round and headed back into it's direction when it started pissing down, back
outside it had suddenly become empty and dead,all the punks had disappeared.After a couple more times up and down the sea front looking for
some where to park, the rain had stopped and the pavement was full again.
Eventually we found an empty back street,to park up. It was called Albany Road (remember it Peter?). It was now about 3 O'clock,so after a modest
drive of over six hours,our fucking heap of shit mobile had done it's work, for the day and it was now time to get "On It ".
The first boozer that we came to back on the sea front was called "The Ranch" so we went in there.Well not a bad start they were selling cans of Red
Stripe for a quid. So Peter immediately got down to business and started flogging the zine to some of the punks that were already in there, and then
Andy and his bird said that they was off, and so they went in to watch "Sick on the Bus",and then I dont actually remember seeing them again for the
rest of the day.
Then for some reason, maybe because he was flogging them too well perhaps? Peter decided to lose the rest of the zines instead. Fuck knows where
they went because I watched him put them into his pocket,and then when he tried to sell a few more they had gone?So clutching at straws he went
over to the pool table and asked the previous customer if he had seen them,of course fucking not.[When you got holes in your pockets as big as
mine, you'd lose the whole of St. Pauls in there. That'll teach me for sleeping on punks floors next to their hounds and waking up with a fucking dog
chewing my jacket coat! - PDC]
He probably had them and was gonna sell them himself ( ha-ha! ).
We was certainly firing down the Red Stripe at a rate of knots in the Ranch,and I remember seeing the bird behind the ramp bring out a new tray at
some point of the proceedings. Then for a while we got into a discussion with some Skins from Wallsall [later that night i found out the same hard as
nails Walsall skins had to be put to bed at the ungodly hour of 9 0'oclock! ha! - PDC] ,and then it was time to go to the Dome to pick up the admission
wrist bands to get in with.
It was a bit of a fucking trek to this place so we stopped off in a couple more boozers on the way.One of them was the "Sportsmans Bar " and it was
part of the Arena, but next door.
It was just me and Peter by now and fuck knows what the time was but the beer count was approaching double figures.When we got through a couple
more in the Sportsman me and Peter got chatting about our favourite subject the "Sex Pistols" [Hey you at the back stop yawning - PDC]. We was
swapping anecdotes that we both had on the band,then for some reason we got onto the subject of Caerphilly,and after laughing about the idiots who
over reacted from that area, we both started singing really loudly "Sleep in Heavenly Peace", for ages and pissing ourselves with laughter
(for those of you who are familiar with the Sex Pistols you will know what I'm on about, those that aren't don't count) then at this point as luck would
have it a geezer came up to us and started chatting about the same thing, and then said that some cunt had let him down and would we buy his spare
tickets from him ? Well I already had mine, so it was down to Peter to start negotiations, he ended up getting 2 day tickets for 25 quid, so not a bad
deal there.[Who said us Wolverhampton cunts were all dumb bastards!? - PDC]
We left there and started for the Dome but there was another boozer in the way so we had to stop in it.Not for long though,it was to pretentious and to
fucking expensive.
Outside the Dome was a bit of a queue so that was a shit having to wait,especially as Lee Havoc from One Way System was stood behind me being
a cocky little shit and trying to be funny.Nice try mate but it wasn't working.
Eventually got the tickets,and headed back into the Sportsman, it was nicely filling with punks especially punkettes,and some of them were fucking
gorgeous.I couldn't stop staring at them.After a couple more in there it was starting to get close to the time to go next door and see some of the bands
that were left to play.As I was stood at the bar Charlie Harper walked in,he had some kind of wooly hat on his head,and matched with the other gear
he was wearing, alongside his well lived in facial features,I thought it was a fucking tramp,who had just come in out the cold.Anyhow he was quite
polite when I asked him what time he was playing," about half hour ", so I thought I would be there in time to watch them.So we caned yet another jar
and wandered in.
U.K. Subs had already started,so I carried on and watched them.The only one I can remember was Stranglehold,but that was pretty good,so not a
bad starter.Until I went to the bar that is, I asked someone what the time was and it had gone 11, so next door was shut, and the robbing bastards
were now charging £2.40 for a pint compared with £1.40 all day next door.What a cunt,I eventually got served and the beer was like gnats piss.I
think they over did it with the river water.Then walking round with Pete he bumped into one of the guys from Red Flag '77,who had a stall there, I dont
really know what happened to Pete but after [Me neither? -PDC] that I lost him. So I walked round on my own for a bit,and the next band came on.I
must have read the line up in the programme a thousand times but I still couldn't remember what the fuck it was.
I watched this band for a bit wandering who the fuck it was, and then they suddenly played Boston Babies, I couldn't believe my fucking eyes it was
Slaughter and the Dogs, they didn't look much like I remember from days gone by. It was like watching a bunch of office staff who were doing a gig
in leather jeans etc.. all ready to change back ready for the office on Monday.What a shock, they didn't play to badly though.And then contrary to
further discussions with another bloke later in the weekend,I am fucking sure there is no way they did "Anarchy in the U.K.,"but he was adamant that
they did.The place would have gone up if they had.Maybe I was out for a piss and missed it but that would have been the only way.Even the mess I
was in I would have remembered that.But just in case if anyone out there can tell me otherwise, let the editor know,if I am wrong.
Next up were the Damned who I was quite up for seeing,as they had played in Bristol a month earlier and I thought were pretty good.So I stocked up
again from the bar,and made my way through the hordes towards the front.Fuck knows the time when they eventually staggered on,but from the first
note it set the mood for me for the whole set. What a fucking let down, I dont know what it was but they were a load of bollocks. I thought they
stank,maybe I was expecting to much.I dont see why though they produced it before down here earlier.Then to cap it all off they never played Smash
It Up!
I finished my beer and walked around to see if I could find anyone but I couldn't.There was an after show set so I had a look at that from the
balcony.When I got downstairs,I noticed the guitarist was wearing a "Never Mind The Bollocks " T shirt,so I stayed and gave them a watch and they
were not bad at all,so I investigated a little and found that they were the Pink Torpedoes.
By now I had about as much as my capacity could hold so I went outside,there were a few people about,but I staggered off towards what I thought was
the direction of the van.Only, inevitably it wasn't, I remembered there being a hill but I wasn't sure if this was it,and then my luck changed there was
two people heading towards me,"Fuck me Paul,where have you been?" I heard a shout,it was Andy and he had just come from the van.So to my relief
he took me to where we had parked.There was no sign of Pete, and I said there was not a chance in hell of him ever finding this.Andy and Roser
curled up in the back and I led out in the front,a bit later I woke up and it felt like I had been asleep for hours,but I needed a piss so I went in the
hedge opposite.Still no sign of Pete,so I nodded off again.A bit later still, there was a tapping on the side of the van,and in that ace inimitable accent
of his you could hear Andy! Andy!,So we got up and let him in.I told him that I never thought he would find the van,to which he confessed that he
didn't and that he only remembered the road we was parked on and got a taxi!! [When you've been lost as many times as I have, you soon learn a
few trix! - PDC]
After a discussion of the days proceedings it eventually led to a crescendo of snoring,at fuck knows what time.
DAY 2
When I woke later at least it was light out this time.This was the day for me.The one I was up for, the line up was shit hot for Saturday.After the relief of
still being alive from the day before,I shook my head and looked at the clock it was a little before ten.I was suffering from a fucking elephant of a
headache,probably something to do with the fifteen pints we had got through the day before.
We had all woken by now,and I noticed that Andy's hand was covered in blood.He reckoned that he had been in a scrape during pogoing.
But I later found an empty tampax wrapper under my sleeping bag,so I guess that kind of gave the game away a bit.
So after a wash and brush up in the plush surroundings of the public abolutions on the sea front it was time to get back to the task in hand,surviving
another day of punk rock over indulgence.
So meanwhile back at the "Ranch" a tasty Red Stripe was the order of the day,yet again!! The first couple went down as if they had lumps in them.But
after a sluggish start things soon picked up.Well I did anyhow.The Wolves contingent of the marathon was floundering badly in this particular leg of
the race.And I seemed to be pulling away from the field with relative ease.Especially in the Sportsman where I departed to watch Beerzone leaving
the flagging Black Countryman stooped over a table staring at his pint. [bubbles in a pint glass are fascinating sometimes y'know - PDC]
I joined Beerzone as they had just come on.They were doing their tribute to Jerry Springer song.They flew through a few more with such speed and
power that I was wondering why the fuck they weren't on a bit later when there could be more than the 50 or so people watching to appreciate
them.Then came their tribute to a certain over indulgent Middlesbrough footballer,with the tune ripped from Jimmy,Jimmy,called instead
Gazza,Gazza.After a couple more was their version of Alternative Ulster which was better than SLF actually play it and faster with a bit more heart and
bollocks.Not a bad start to the day.
So I made my way back next door where some guy was chatting to Peter Dont Care,but he was still taking up the stoop position and not seeming to be
taking much notice.From this point I tried to up the tempo a bit,to which I got minimal response but it was working gradually.
I had decided to concentrate on the Football in the afternoon,England were playing Sweden at Wembley and they had a big screen in this gaff to
watch it on.As kick off approached the place started to fill with spiked tops all interested in the game.Peter had livened up a bit by now and was
chatting to the people sat next to us,one of which was the punk version of Reg Holdsworth.He even sounded like him,with the glasses et al..The only
visible difference being the multi coloured hair and 45 face piercings.He didn't mind being referred to in this vein though.In fact, proved to be a better
source of entertainment than the total load of bollocks that England were dishing up.
As we've come to expect from England the footy was so shit we decided to move back to the Ranch for cheaper beer.Where the music on the stereo
was getting better with a decent punk compilation being played.In fact when Anarchy started playing Peter got up and pogoed with a skin that had
joined in.At this point Peter spotted a Sid look a like called Kev from Bradford who we got chatting to about the weekend so far.Things seemed to be
livening up a bit with the Sex Pistols coming on at regular intervals and by now the table was full of empty R.S.. cans.
Then as a kind of auto-cue when God Save The Queen came on Alan Parker the guy currently working on the finishing touches of a new Pistols book
and a couple of his mates walked in,talk about spontaniety.What a fucking sesh it was turning out to be.Any questions that we had about the new
Sex Pistols film were answered, seeing as Alan has already seen it.There was no end of chat going between all of us,it was good to find some other
people that were interested in the same subject as us, and who we could have proper discussions with about the band.They also didn't seem to mind
buying us beers in their rounds either which was a bonus.Although,saying that, the cost of some of Alan's books in the past, it was only fucking right
that he bought a few extra rounds!!He reckons that I am in the new book as part of the Filthy Lucre section on the Paris gig that I went to,or was he
just saying that to get me to buy a copy (Ha-Ha) ??? Never mind I'll go to WHSmiths and read through it first just to make sure.He was telling us that
him and his mate have got the best Pistols collection that anyone knows of.To which I took great delight in gloating , about owning a certain item that
they do not!! Also Peter had one up on them aswell because he saw the Pistols in '77 and shook Johnny's hand [thats why i wear gloves - PDC] ,and
they never saw them first time round..
I guess this could have gone on all night but it was time to head off,so they gave us a demo C.D. each, of the band that they were promoting ( both of
which Peter Dont Care somehow managed to lose) [Those god damn holes again!!!! - PDC] and went in to watch Vice Squad, although One Way
System were still playing when we got in there and Lee looked a bit silly with his mohecan tied in a pony tail?? [Sacrilege!!! - PDC]
All I can remember about Vice Squad was how sexy Beki was looking and that I wanted to shag her.And I think they played City Rockers, maybe, my
head was in a spin? Then back to the queue at the bar of about 30 people at any one time and only 2 barstaff,typical.The next band is usually on by
the time you get served.
On this occasion it was Anti-Nowhere League,they were fucking brilliant.Kicking off with their signature " We are the League " and flying through
songs new and old.I recognised mostly the old stuff with such greats as Lets Break the Law,Cant Stand Rock 'N' Roll, Woman,I Hate People,Streets of
London and for their last number the perfect end to the set was " So What "....
As per usual I had lost Peter by now, but by the time The Dickies came on about midnight I was starting to get a bit wobbly on my feet.And I only
remembered a couple of songs from their set.They played fucking well though.Especially Paranoid,and Leonard as usual singing with one finger
wedged into his left ear, and there was no forgetting their finish either as they blasted out the anthemic classic the "Banana Splits "!!!
After they had finished I had lost every other fucker,and after over 13 hours on the piss I was feeling the pace slightly [bullshitter...you were wrecked -
PDC]. I had a walk round upstairs and found a gap on the railing of the balcony on which I lean't over waiting for the next band..It must have been
about 1 a.m. by now, and then Sham 69 came on.This for me was the best band of the whole weekend, none of them were that bad but for some
reason Sham did the bizzo and I thought they were fucking superb.They have been going since 1975 and this was the first time that I have managed
to catch them ( better later than never,I spose ), the highlights for me were Hersham Boys, Hurry up Harry,If the Kids are United,and Borstal Breakout.
For the encore they did a couple of tracks from the new album and the last number was Borstal Breakout again which certainly livened me up for a
finale............
As luck would have it I bumped into Peter and Andy on the way out, so on the way back to the van,we were all in agreement that I had out drunk Peter
for the day as he had been struggling for the first part.[My time would come tomorrow - PDC]
And then just as everything else that I had given to him to look after, he informed me that he had lost all the different flyers that I had given him aswell,
ohh well what the fuck.
That night I certainly got off to sleep better than the previous one, I was fucked by the time I got in to the van, and it must have been about 3a.m......
DAY 3
Everything was ready and in place by 11 a.m. on Sunday.Just enough time to go into town to the cash point and have a fry up before opening time.
So back to the Ranch, and after a small deliberation,guess what we ordered a can of ? You guessed it, Red Stripe.The mood was a bit sombre for a
while as yet again the ale seemed to have lumps in it.[In the Bristol corner it may have been but I was up and rarrin to go after a Trad. British overhaul
- PDC]. After forcing down the first couple, things were gradually beginning to kick start.It seemed like every time I went to cough that my insides were
gonna fall out.The Wallsall skins turned up,and they were in the same mood as I had been in, the day before as the line up today was suited to
them,and they were all up for it.After discussing the merits or not of wearing white laces,it was time to move on.
In the Sportsmans bar Peter had heard a rumour that for a small donation the geezer behind the ramp would let people through to the Arena round
the back.So after a small investigation,he was sent away with a flea in his ear.After being told by the spotty little cunt,that it was more than his job was
worth ?? Anyone would have thought that he was asking him to commit murder or summit. Although,junior barman in a small seaside resort must have
some clout??(Ha-Ha).. So resigned to shelling out another 20 quid for the day Pete fucked off to the Dome for a ticket.
In walked Andy and said they had just watched the Warriors, who had played pretty well.He asked where Pete had gone,I told him that he had fucked
off again.What again?He's always doing that.He then walked back in.And told Andy that he couldn't scab his way in round the back,and had to buy a
ticket.We had a few in the Sportsmans and when Pete was at the bar, Andy said a classic line to me;"I tell you what mate,for somebody who is
skint,old Pete doesn't seem to do to badly.Everytime I see him, he's at the fucking bar buying the drinks". What can you do?? I said. Holding my hands
up with a smile on my face.........[All I can say to that is when your dragged up in Wolves you soon learn to make the most of your resources - PDC]
We went next door to see Oxymoron.It was quite easy to tell what day it was.There was more skins now than punks unlike the last couple of
days,when it was the reverse.Everyone was mixing quite well though,and there wasn't any sign of bother.Why should there be,we were all there for
the same reason, to have a good laugh.Oxymoron were fucking brilliant,they were fast and powerful,you could see the aggression in the singer 's
face as he fired out the lyrics.At times aswell he would jump down off the stage and pass the mike to the crowd to sing for him.[Best band of the 3
whole days for me - PDC] There was a decent crowd of pogoers by now and the Arena was fully charged,especially by the set this band had played.
Someone at the bar was telling us of a decent boozer down the road so we decided to check it out.It was called the Bath Arms,and had a quality punk
jukebox.When we got there it wasn't quite as I had pictured it would be, but it was full of punks so that was alright.The blokes out of Contempt were in
there and looking a bit jaded [what do ya expect from Brummies! - PDC] (knew the feeling,by then),we ended up chatting to a couple of blokes from
Grimsby,about punk in general.I guess we stayed in there longer than we should have.But what the fuck, the juker was alright and we had a
laugh,although I still never found a gaff that played "Bodies".
Got back to the Arena just in time to see the last one or two by Peter A.T.T.T.Babies,I think one of them was Maniac.All four of us were back in the
lobby chatting by now.So when the Dropkick Murphys came on it wasn't far to see them.We had been listening to them in the van earlier,so I was
well up for seeing them.They were fucking superb and definately will be well worth another look in the future,they are on the up,and by this
performance it was easy to see why.The crowd was going ape shit all through out the set, and the singer was going all along the front rows handing
out the mike for a bit of guest vocalising.Superb.......
Back out in the lobby and the bar prices had stemmed the pace a bit but it was still happening.I wasn't to bothered about watching The Business,so
Andy sent his bird in to watch them on her own while we stayed at the bar discussing what a shit hot time we had,had. After the finish I saw Danny the
stage crew bloke from Bristol who confirmed that The Dickies were playing in Bristol, that night. Fucking typical I said,Well what would you prefer, that
or this he said, pointing at the stage.Well I would have liked to have seen them again but there was no contest really.
Outside,we chatted to a couple of people that we had met over the weekend,and asked them to write their accounts of events,for the zine.Then it was
time to find the van again,piece of piss by now.Me and Pete both agreed [No we fucking didn't! - PDC] that the day had been an evenly matched
session,unlike the day before, and that he had redeemed himself after a crap previous display.
There was plenty of wake up powder on offer back at the van but I decided to abstain,knowing what a cunt of a drive I had ahead of me.
The next morning seemed a bit weird,everything was ready for the off,by about half eleven.We drove along the sea front and past the Arena,it was
dead with not a punk or skin in sight,the Ranch was quiet and empty,and probably how it was gonna stay,with not much going to be able to beat the
racket that we had made in there. With a six fucking hour drive home ahead of me,I couldn't give a fuck.What a fucking weekend it had been and
here's to the next one.
Morecambe 2000? Someone has since asked ,try fucking stopping me!!!!..
As a Punk stalwart once said........" Everyone keeps saying Punks dead. You all here know Punks Not Dead."....
Well that was in 1981,and events like this prove that punk, Has been, Is and Probably always will be, in the minority,for those that understand it
properly......................But it is far from being Dead !!!!..............................
PAUL K.
This review was first published in the Spunk! Newsletter 1999.
