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Continuing the live music theme, and totally ignoring the original intent of this blog, I felt compelled to post today after witnessing another sublime musical miracle at the hands of rising star and demi-god of modern folk music, the awesome Frank Turner (myspace).

In preparation for his support slot for The Holloways (myspace) last night at Leeds University Union, Mr Turner Esq wowed a largely impromptu audience with a short but oh so sweet set on the grass outside the venue during a fire alarm incident.

Belting out three numbers from his albums, with a much appreciated and spine-tingling (but hardly necessary given his vocal talents) helping hand from his devoted Leeds following, he finished up with an acoustic rendition of Abba’s Dancing Queen; much to the delight of all.

Considering an extremely large, very busy Student Union building had emptied in a matter of minutes, many of the audience had no idea what the hell was going on. Of course, everyone sang along to Dancing Queen. Just as the sun went down on a crisp and sunny Yorkshire evening. So I’d like to take this opportunity to doff my cap to Mr Frank Turner and Co; moments like these are gold dust.

Once the all clear was given, Frank and the rest of the band finished the set indoors, ripping the roof off as they finished a cracking set, such great songs, such a great band. However, personally, I’d have paid just to see the grassy knoll incident! Video footage after the jump (thanks LadyLou1985 for capturing the event! Hope you don’t mind the link).

If you were there, please leave a comment below!

I should also mention that the Holloways were also pretty damn good, and props to them as headliners and gracious hosts for giving due credit to Frank as the hero of the evening. Also, they introduced the audience to an 11 year old crowd surfer! You may be shocked, but I can assure ‘Health and Safety’ that this was surely the most gingerly handled crowd surfer in rock history, passed like a precious stone from hand to hand and set down on two feet with all limbs intact; while the band watched over affairs intently… another smile raised on my face; and no doubt a young mans birthday dreams made!

Who are these others I speak of?

So while I’m on the music subject, I thought I’d throw in a few other links to some perhaps less well known but equally impressive artists that have rocked my world over the last few weeks while frequenting the regions smaller live music venues in search of good ale, pub food and good tunes.

First up would be Rory McVicar (myspace), who I saw at the Angel Share in a small Leeds suburb called Chapel Allerton a few weeks ago. I haven’t had his CD off my iPod since, awesome stuff. Shades of all sorts in here, fantastic song-writing, a captivating and distinctive voice and great production on the CD.

Second (and, I hasten to add; in no particular order) would be a two-piece from Manchester who I caught at the Grapes in Sheffield last week, Stereo Horizon are a brother and sister combo with obvious comparisons to the White Stripes in that she plays drums (apparently self taught and mentored by her brother to amazing effect!) and he plays everything else (Piano on this occasion). However that’s pretty much where the Stripes comparisons stop. I could hear Radiohead, The Smiths, Muse in their songwriting and compositional influence and with serious skills seemingly pouring out of these two I’d be willing to wager a fiver on this being a duo to keep your eye on.

Lastly, and of course by no means least would be a lady I’ve rather luckily caught twice now, at both of the above events. On a solo adventure from Monkey Swallows the Universe (a band on hiatus apparently). Nat Johnson always seems to charm the pants off her audiences! Great songs. With at times; a smidgen dark lyrics that bely the sweet and often surprising melodies conjured up on-stage with her guitar, glockenspiel, loop machine and beautiful voice; not unlike Beth Orton’s - a long time favourite of mine. Creating her own samples, loops, backings and harmonies as she goes. I’ve never seen anything quite like it; on both occasions I’ve been utterly stunned by how simple and effective it is. For me and my trusty gig companion, Nat Johnson and all of the artists mentioned here come highly recommended.

Your first gig. When, Who, Where? Mine was a band from Leeds called the Bridewell Taxis. A band that although never quite reaching its full potential - their support slots for Happy Mondays, the Inspirals and the Stone Roses were probably the peak of their awareness; had a strong local following. They split in 1993. This particular gig at Bradford St. Georges Hall in the winter of 199o was (by all accounts) a blinder and holds a special place in my heart for a number of reasons.

“LEEDS, LEEDS, LEEDS” chanted the crowd (Football and The Bridewell’s seemed to go hand in hand). Pints in plastic cups were sunk and discarded in preparation of the ensuing melee. The lights went down, the signature Brass section began to play and yes you guessed it, the crowd went wild. Meanwhile, the stage hand, one ‘hard as nails’, shaven headed, tie-dyed young lady used her obviously well practiced and extremely well placed 10-eye Doc Marten’s spider boots to launch interlopers from the stage in a most direct fashion. I’d never seen anything like it.

Mark Suckling, wherever you are; I belatedly salute you. Your kind invitation changed my brain forever. It opened my eyes to live music, to the thrill of a heaving crowd. Mass hysteria, a thousand people bouncing in unison. Beer, sweat and hair akimbo. One guy relieving himself openly on the dance floor (not the best part of the evening but memorable never the less). Hearing the music I’d coveted on 12″ played just for me, at least that’s how it felt.

Then came the magical part…

“Just Good Friends” is my favourite of the Bridewell Taxi’s songs. It has a bass-line like no other I’ve heard; pacey, sporadic, a ‘Smiths inspired’ jangly, melodic guitar part and a rip-roaring brass section that kicks in after the first few bars raising the hairs on the back of my neck every time I play it. Lyrically it’s very simple, unrequited love.

There is a line in ‘Just Good Friends’ that titularly, and in essence; this post is all about. Why is this line so special? It’s perhaps not on a par with the greatest songwriters efforts, but it’s not a bad line either. I’m sure you’ll agree it has some depth, is somewhat emotionally evocative.

“You start to laugh, down comes the rain”.

Up until that night, this line had been my favourite part of my favourite song. I really wasn’t prepared for what came next.

I never have been particularly adept at approaching girls. At that time; aged 17 and only having been in a pub once or twice before, I hadn’t had much practice either. So, when the pretty girl with the floppy indie hair-cut, dressed in baggy jeans and purple Kickers that had been dancing next to me for the first few numbers grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight at precisely the moment Mick Roberts the lead singer dropped this bombshell of a lyric. Well, you can imagine. I’ll be honest and admit that I’m getting kind of emotional even typing this!

I don’t know if this was a moment of shared exuberance, an innocent need for human contact in a particularly emotive moment, or whether in fact this lovely young lady thought I was someone else; I never got around to asking. In that moment we simply danced; joyous, care-free, on top of the world. And then the song finished, she kissed me, I asked her name (Rachel, I think) and that was it; I turned to my friends, turned back to her, and she was gone.

After the gig I caught a brief glimpse of her as we spilled out into the cold Bradford night, she was crossing her arms, pulling a Berghaus fleece tight to keep warm as she hurried through the crowd, into a taxi and off. I didn’t see who else was in the car and I never saw her again.

I’ve never really thought of the experience as romantic, even then her kiss felt like an act of freedom not desire, which kind of makes it even more special. I still cannot play that record without thinking about that gig, that girl, holding hands and dancing. Things that these days, I still enjoy doing a lot… I wonder how much of that I owe to the Bridewells and the floppy haired indie kid in purple Kickers?

There is actually another reason for this post, other than the joy of reminiscence. I recently searched wikipedia to see if the Bridewell’s had made the leap from relative obscurity into the present day. Finding out much to my glee that prompted by the re-formed Happy Mondays, The Bridewell Taxis reformed in 2005, and began playing live again.

I feel a gig coming on and the likelihood of a familiar chant rising. I simply cannot begin to describe the feeling that the anticipation of once more hearing that Brass section is bringing as I sit listening to the only album the band ever committed to compact disc.

If you’d like to hear what all the fuss is about, pop on over to The Bridewell Taxis MySpace, or their official website (currently not working). Hopefully I’ll see you at the next gig, I’ll be the guy looking like the cat that got the cream, although something tells me that there may be quite a few of us.

Where was your first gig? Was it good, bad or indifferent? I’d like to hear from you, leave a comment.