Gigs in Wales. Don't they say something similar about London buses? You wait months for one, and then two come along in quick succession. Then three thugs mug you for your pension.
We had one show to add to the "other gigs" list. We went to see John Shuttleworth at City Varieties in Leeds. You know, the place where they used to record The Good Old Days on telly. Shuttleworth was magnificent with tales about friends and family, and songs such as The Ballad of Dangly Man (about the unfortunate punter who needed rescuing from The Devil's Arse entrance) and Can't Go Back To Savoury Now. In another world, that would have been written and recorded by HMHB.
Stop! We also had an evening with (Mark) Radcliffe and (Marc) Riley in York. Radcliffe presents on 6 Music on weekend mornings. His usual partner for those shows is Stuart Maconie. But on this occasion, it was Riley, aka Lard, with whom he presented the Radio 1 weekday breakfast show in a previous life way back when. Carry on...
Niall's note on Chris's site is worth a mention here... "I inexplicably find myself watching The 2 Johnnies -an Irish TV institution featuring 2 lads called Johnny who are supposedly comical but are about as funny as a toddlers obituary. Their "late night lock in" Saturday night show is a bit Lidl-brand Ant and Dec, a bit TGIF and a whole heap of shite. Anyway, showcasing hidden talents of the audience, they just featured Caoimhe (keeva ...or qweeva depending on your locale) from Armagh who can lick her elbow. She's undeniably the most talented individual in this entire ....whateverTheFuckItIs." Niall's comments meant that our HMHB revision took in Surging Out Of Convalescence, so we could remind ourselves about the licking of elbows.
The BBC website picked up a story relating to the condition mentioned by HMHB... "Medication for Restless Leg Syndrome gave me a gambling addiction" according to their interviewee. I hope they did well with their investment in the Grand National.
Steve Morris of New Order (and previously, of course, Joy Division) was interviewed in a podcast on the same website. He said he has a pair of Joy Division oven gloves. If you have a pair, then you're in good company.
A few reviews back, I mentioned that The Searchers were claiming to be the country's longest standing band. It now seems that they are planning their final gig at Glastonbury later in the year. Not sure who will take over that claim about trading longevity, but I expect that HMHB are tucked in somewhere in the chasing pack.
As always, there is increasing demand for these shows. It's likely that one or more of those in the diary (Ulverston, Castleton, Glasgow, Wolverhampton and Manchester) will sell out, so now could be the time to press the button for tickets.
Time for some findings on Wikipedia about Bethesda... The town grew around the slate quarrying industries. At its peak, it exported purple slate all over the world. Penrhyn Quarry suffered a three-year strike led by the North Wales Quarrymen's Union between 1900 and 1903 - the longest industrial dispute in British history. This lockout was mentioned by Nigel during the gig
And a note from the venue's website... Half Man Half Biscuit are a rock band, formed in 1984 in Birkenhead. Known for their satirical, sardonic, and sometimes surreal songs, the band comprises lead singer and guitarist Nigel Blackwell, bassist and singer Neil Crossley, drummer Carl Henry, and guitarist Karl Benson. Support from the fantastic Merched Lloerig, which are Pat Morgan (Datblygu) and Alan Holmes.
On the Friday morning, we caught the train from Leeds (calling at Bramley, New Pudsey, Bradford Interchange, Low Moor, Halifax, Sowerby Bridge, Mytholmroyd, Hebden Bridge, Todmorden, Rochdale, Manchester Victoria, Newton Le Willows, Earlestown, Warrington Bank Quay and terminating at Chester). And from there we called at Flint, Prestatyn, Rhyl, Colwyn Bay and Llandudno Junction, before disembarking at Bangor (Gwynedd). Of course, we bowed our heads when we passed through Hebden Bridge, in acknowledgement of one of the other great bands, Bogshed.
On that second leg, there were many HMHB references on display. We passed the Dee estuary, The Great Orme, the west end of Rhyl and saw what we took to be Chirk airfield. (Or maybe not. Chirk is a bit further away from Chester). Howie, Gomez, Doddy and Jez briefly appeared, doing one of those pub-hopping trips. Get on the train, get off at the next station, go for a jar and get on the next train when it comes round in an hour. That makes perfect sense to me. When we arrived in Bangor, Phill and Andrew were waiting at the station, and took us to the out-of-town Travelodge where we were booked in. It was one of those places that has a Burger King, Asda and Starbucks all piled into the estate. Not everyone's dreamland, but it worked for us on a gig day. There was time for a bit of ligging and taking in an episode of Countdown. And then we were out to Phill's car. He drove Karen, Andrew and me the couple of miles to Bethesda. We got one of the last spaces in the car park and went for a wander round the village. And well done to Phill for narrowly avoiding running Nigel and Denise over. Neil and Carl were also knocking about. Looked like they were scoffing chips, the traditional pop star tea.
I went to the paper shop and secured copies of The Daily Post and Llais Ogwan. On closer inspection, it was March's edition of the latter, so that explains the silence regarding the gig. But there was also nothing in The Daily Post. You get used to that, with the band's promotional machinery.
We saw Steve, Andy, Niall and Postman Tony, and inevitably ended up in the Tafarn Y Fic. It was conveniently next door to the venue. We met Graham Le Taxi and Julie in there. Our group left the pub and formed the beginning of a queue outside the door. At the entrance, I got talking to John and Kim, HMHB veterans going back to the eighties. Alex and Lynn were also part of the surge when the doors were opened.
Inside the place, first port of call was Miles at the merch desk, ready for an evening's trading. And then I took up my place at the front. Good to see Alison again. And Sue. And most of Indignation Meeting. And anybody else whose name I didn't write down. There were some tidy tunes coming out of the PA. White Mice by The Modettes. Procession by New Order. Dark Entries by Bauhaus. Public Image by Public Image Limited. And Karen heard Sleaford Mods at the end of the evening.
The support band was Merched LLoerig. All very deep stuff. "The next one is about death..." I don't think they are aiming for the Top Ten, but good luck to them on their journey. The duo was playing over a backing track from their band from years ago. Cheating? Well, not really, compared with the standards of other folk. They are worth following if you like your stuff to be away from the beaten track. Just don't expect Peters And Lee. They're not for you if you like to wave your arms in the air and sing along. "It's a broad church," noted Brian at the end of their set.
More Hellos in the interval. Mike, Mr and Mrs Exxo and Mo. And then HMHB arrived. The walk-on music was Festival/Mirie It Is/Sumer Is A-Cumen In from the soundtrack of The Wicker Man. Nigel had a King Kong Company t-shirt, and Karl was wearing a Biteback one (which reminds me, there was no sign tonight of Hocky from that band). "Dylan Ebenezer, ladies and gentlemen!" was the first celebrity spot of the evening. Nigel pointed out that where they lived when he was younger, they could get Harlech TV. "We saw Happy Days before anyone else in the country," he added. And that's where he saw Breaking Bod, long before they made Breaking Bad.
There was a technical issue where Nigel's plectrum seemed to get stuck behind the fret on his guitar. Karl came to the rescue. "This is a new song about that fellow from Weybridge," was said, before playing the one about Fred Titmus. And "Anyone in from Rochester? This is about a bloke from Rochester. Rochester in New York," ahead of I'm Getting Buried In The Morning.
In reply to a shout for Mileage Chart, Nigel said he would love to play it, but he can not remember the chords. And he turned to Neil, "Thank God I haven't got dementia. Thank God I haven't got dementia."
I wasn't sure whether or not a verse was missed from Sealclubbing. Whatever. Nigel made reference to a very good chip shop "outside on the left" on the main street. Sorry, couldn't tell what he said when he told us the name.
I asked Nigel if he had a tip for The Grand National, taking place the day after this gig. The answer was the same as usual. "Dusty Carpet, it's never been beaten." He hoped that the race would be disrupted, before recalling that his dad had a bet in 1976 at 20-1. It came in at half past two.
Quite often I can't hear what Nigel is talking about. You may have noticed. But there was something about taking an alternative route to Capel Curig, to avoid the crowds and view the Snowdon horseshoe. There was a break in proceedings for a bit of guitar-tuning. "Talk among yourselves," he said, "in Welsh." One other technical issue concerned the lead to Nigel's guitar which kept disconnecting.
He told a joke that he (correctly) said I wouldn't get. About a guy who is rescued from a desert island. A "Ray Mears-type", he has survived very well. The rescuers ask the castaway about the buildings that he has constructed on the island. "One is the chapel where I go.", he replies "And the other is the chapel where I DON'T go.".
"Anyone in from Rhyl?" asked Nigel. "My Mum lives there," he added. "Well, when I say "lives"... No one actually LIVES there. You can go round for a cup of tea, but don't have a biscuit. They're two years out of date."
Postman Tony shouted for Hair Like Brian May Blues. Nigel replied, "I wish I had." He sang a few lines from it, and then Postman Tony made a further request for "Crossroads". Nigel answered, "The Robert Johnson version, or the Tony Hatch one?" Karl obliged with the Hatch version, and Nigel pointed to him, saying "the human jukebox!".
There was a slightly extended version of the Monk's Gate tune, being the intro to The Trumpton Riots. Nigel and Karl did the Status Quo Rossi/Parfitt thing during We Built This Village. In Time Flies By, the word "Chigley" was replaced in the line about every Saturday getting the skins. But I didn't catch what it was. And there was something about writing a Dr Who script, I think, where Daleks take on Millwall fans.
Arfon Haines Davies and Margaret Pritchard were spotted in the crowd. As was Julia Bradbury... "Any time this year with those step ladders, Julia." Black Night was played as an introduction to National Shite Day.
The songs heard this evening were...
Bob Wilson AnchormanAnd three songs in the encore:
Everything's AORNot quite sure how Karl's set list got into my possession before the end of the gig, but Brian might have some questions to answer. Having checked the list, there was quite a bit of shifting songs backwards and forwards, but that is usually the case.
Checking the school register, there were a few notable absences. Not least, Dr John who is currently on a tour of New Zealand, and Tony, who is well on the way to recovery after his recent surgery. See you next time.
Big thanks to Phill for driving to and from the gig, and also for getting us to Bangor station the morning after. At the station we got talking to Niall who was making his way back to Holyhead and thereafter to the boat back to Ireland. We also bumped into Steve H, who was on his way to see Chester play at Hereford. And then we were onto the train back to Yorkshire, to begin making plans for the visit to Ulverston in May.