New Order #12 1986 02 28 St George's Hall Bradford
Time for another double header, my third. Three of us got a lift to Bradford with a work colleague of mine who'd been to university there and at whose girlfriend's house we would be staying.
We went to Italia Cafe to eat first (my colleague said "It's not Italian, but it is cheap") and it does seem to have some musical history (it's not there any more). A subsequent pub visit and a slip in the icy conditions meant that by the time we arrived at St George's Hall (which *is* still there, unlike some of the other venues where I've seen New Order) we'd already missed Life.
I was at the stage for this gig, which was fairly quiet, but I don't recall much about the show itself.
State of the Nation opened, which seemed to be quite common in this spate of gigs, and was followed by 586 and Broken Promise. Bizarre Love Triangle, Lonesome Tonight, Sooner Than You Think and Love Vigilantes all followed, with good solid renditions of each. Next were Face Up, Temptation and Ceremony, finishing with The Perfect Kiss.
Post gig, we went to Pickwicks, a club on several floors. Unsurprisingly, that's gone now as well!
Set and song timings |
|
| 1 State Of The Nation | 7:03 |
| 2 5 8 6 | 4:41 |
| 3 Broken Promise | 4:19 |
| 4 Bizarre Love Triangle | 4:45 |
| 5 Lonesome Tonight | 5:32 |
| 6 Sooner Than You Think | 5:53 |
| 7 Love Vigilantes | 4:08 |
| 8 Face Up | 5:35 |
| 9 Temptation | 7:02 |
| 10 Ceremony | 5:43 |
| 11 The Perfect Kiss | 9:15 |
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Footnotes
Two concerts between Slough and Bradford. First was the GLC Concert for the Unemployed, held in a tent in Finsbury Park on Saturday 21 December 1985. I believe it was free for the unemployed, and a nominal charge for everyone else.
Imagination's set included the hits (Music and Light, In The Heat Of The Night, Flashback, Body Talk and Just An Illusion). I don't recall what Frank Chickens did, but it probably included We Are Ninja, and I only recognised Pink Shack Blues from Marc Almond's set
(full set was:
Madness I knew much better. Their set was:
From Huffety Puff to House of Fun, Madness were joined by Ian Dury.
The only song I recall from Gregory Isaacs was Love is Overdue.
Melody Maker review:
MELODY MAKER, January 11, 1986 - Page 17
GLC Christmas Party For The Unemployed
The Big Tops, Finsbury Park, London
THE soundest reason for abolishing the GLC had always been to terminate those tedious, all-day mudbaths they chose to inflict upon Battersea Park, Victoria Park or any other stretch of unsuspecting London greenery that could be abused in the name of the elusive youth-vote.
Mistakenly, Kenny and his gang of namby-pamby liberals at County Hall laboured under the delusion that, in order to curry favour with eight million Londoners, they had to fill a field with 5,000 designer haircuts, various forms of pond life in filthy Levis, and others whose very existence is an aesthetic crime. Nobody enjoys it. Nobody can get a beer when they want one. Nobody can find the band they came to see and nobody, other than the pond life, likes being rained on and lying prostrate in largo pools of stagnant water.
Amazingly, The Big Tops in Finsbury Park were different because it was held under a marquee and the floor was covered, because the toilets - though hardly adequate - were at least visible, because there was only one stage and, of course, because someone somewhere had the sense to charge admission, thereby denying entry to the more reptilian elements of our great capital.
Famous Londoner and political bed-mate of Neil Kinnock, Billy Bragg, was first to take the stage. The strange thing about him is that even if you've never been to one of his shows you know exactly what he's going to be like. You know he's not going to move around much. You know he's going to lean, concerned and angry, over the microphone, strumming furiously on his guitar. And you have a sneaking suspicion that much of it is going to be fairly uninteresting. When a singer does what Billy does, he has to have very good songs, an economical set and a lot of nerve. Without doubt he's got the nerve, too much nerve. He doesn't know when to stop. However, the best moments of the set allow you to forget you'd rather be somewhere else. "A New England", 'It Says Here" and "Between The Wars" are the nine minutes for which Billy Bragg is revered. The rest of the material is nothing special, neither awful nor exciting.
Billy, though, is a dedicated individual, earnest in his desire to convert the lost to socialism. Sometimes he was even, dare we say it, quite funny.
This is what we expected and a little more but it still doesn't excuse the length of the set, the (generally) mundane songs or the insensitive, soulless cover of Smokey Robinson's 'Tracks Of My Tears".
Imagination. What a band... what a band of merry men ... Unlike many of the people here, they're not the least bit interested in provoking thought, they just want to stimulate erections and dampen panties, arguably the worthiest of all causes. And they do, they do.
From the moment we saw them do "Body Talk" on 'Top Of The Pops", the moment we saw them sliding up and down against white pianos we knew no-one could do it better. Tonight Leee does it all and more. Outrageously endowed in his well-hung, baggy gold lame suit he slowly gyrates his hips then savagely thrusts his crotch at the audience. With the sort of soft, velvet voice you'd like to hear panting anonymously down the phone at you (that's 379 3581, okay Leee?) he goads you from tingling pleasure to orgasmic delight.
He is backed perfectly by the strong yet gentle tones of Ashley, the ebony apollo, proud owner of what appeared to be a slinky pink satin dressing-gown and one of 1985's most effeminate haircuts. And Errol, Imagination's most sensible member, a man that, when frustrated by his drumkit, takes to cartwheeling across the stage.
They of course played a juicy, musky, extra-long version of "Just An Illusion", an extended, pulsating "Flashback" and a rhythmic, throbbing "Heart And Soul”. At this point we feel the two girls deserve a mention, not merely for their backing harmonies but also and more especially for their lips.
But let us not dwell on their lips though we may never get another chance. . let us talk to you of Frank Chickens. There is very little we can say. They are .. very little. Very little Japanese people with silly pyjamas and Teflon baking trays on their heads. They squeak and yap over a semi-oriental disco beat, parodying tango and the martial arts. Neither of them are in the least bit sexy though we seem to remember a time when they were. They are, however, very, very bizarre. And very, very silly. The best moments of Frank Chickens are the incomprehensible broken English intros to their songs - they sound really funny but you don't know what the fuck they're on about.
THE STUDS
IT'S difficult to deny a certain liking for Marc Almond. Who isn't occasionally partial to a little of that British eccentricity so well-represented by Marc's jovial campness and intermittent self-parody? Obviously there comes a time when extraordinary behaviour becomes pure showmanship, but where a has-been of Bowie's infinite idiocy appears more concerned with manufacturing an outlandish image for himself, Almond is the genuine article - alarmingly honest, and steadfastly uncompromising in his desire to be nothing more, or less, than himself.
Punching the air, holding his arms aloft, doing a twirl or two, and generally relishing in the delight of a fanatical legion of Gutter Hearts gathered at his feet, Marc was probably just a little too overbearing for the neutral punter tonight, though his show was one of great character and charisma.
What can one possibly say about a band who have everything and gave it all in a criminally curtailed set of relentless, unadulterated perfection? Madness are pop's ultimate in family entertainment, and consequently, better suited to a festival of today's all-embracing proportions than anyone. Rather than suffering for their age, they have learned from it, and now exhibit a maturity and sense of grace and style exclusive to themselves - quite probably the most complete pop band in the world. The 12-piece Madness we were treated to carried no excess baggage whatsoever - every department united in the purpose of re-creating every little intricacy that has become their strength on record.
The consummate sophistication of "Mad Not Mad" was captured with splendidly incisive versions of "I'll Compete", "Burning The Boats", and the two singles. The timeless pop supremacy of "Embarrassment", "My Girl" and "Our House" and the indisposable family faves — "House Of Fun" and "One Step Beyond" - provided ample opportunity for onlookers, young and old, to shake a frivolous leg. And just for good measure, everyone's loveable rogue Ian Dury was drafted for colourful covers of Kilburn And The High Roads' "Huffety Puff' and "Rough Kids". Like I said. Madness were everything - a heart-warming spectacle everyone wanted to last forever.
What were we left with as the witching hour approached? Nothing to get worked up about. Gregory Isaacs and his Rhythm Rulers. As with all reggae, proficiency and self-assurance is the name of the game. In Greg's case, so laid back and tacking lust as to induce disinterest. Hat tilted to the back of his bonce, customarily dressed in snappy grey suit, Isaacs prowled confidently back and forth surging with a natural ease the rest of us only experience when engaged in boiling a kettle.
There you have it then - the most fulfilling festival staged by the GLC since that particularly glorious mid-summer's day in Battersea Park last year, and quite possibly the end of an era in promotional party politics. In terms of gleaning support for Livingstone and cohorts, Finsbury Park's extravaganza generally seemed rather insignificant, but how would anyone with a bit of grey matter dispense with 80 trillion sovs in six months? Hence our approval of this little wing-ding. Something for everyone, and in the case of the unemployed, six sets for two quid.
WILL SMITH
The second show I went to was on 29th December 1985 at the Hammersmith Odeon - Terry and Gerry, Frank Chickens (again), Hank Wangford and Billy Bragg, preceded by Porky The Pig (an early incarnation of Phill Jupitus) who performed Swilly Swagg's "A New Farmyard"
Billy Bragg's set was
Final song performed by Billy Bragg joined by his sidekick Wiggy, Terry and Gerry, Frank Chickens, Hank Wangford, Porky and Dave "Hotlips" Woodhead.
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