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