Preston Venues 13 to 14

At the bottom end of Friargate lies the Lamb and Packet which has been in situ since the early 1800’s. I remember it having a main room and a very small vault before it morphed into a one room pub. It is a traditional Thwaites house and for 20 odd years I thought it was a fine boozer and I frequented regularly before it started to go downhill about 10 years ago.

It was not a pub that ever embraced any musical content apart from a jukebox in the corner. However, when a Half Man Half Biscuit gig was cancelled at 53 Degrees at short notice on 02/10/10 we wandered past the pub and there was a racket emanating from the establishment.

We wandered in and the place was packed and what I surmised to be a local band were on a makeshift stage on the small elevated area by the door. I think they were called Section 7 Spell 7 and they were highly energetic with a rather drunk crowd in attendance. I can only think the gig was a one-off event as I never heard of any other bands playing there. The last I heard was that the pub had now closed.

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Lamb and Packet. Image Credit Prestonblog.co.uk

Nearby on Marsh Lane was the Fighting Cock pub (previously the Boatman Arms). I never saw a band, but I witnessed a local landmark sporting event there. In 1991 for their first time in their history PNE were chosen for a live game on Sky away at Mansfield in the FA Cup, our first national live TV game since the 1964 Cup Final.

The slightly wide boy landlord in residence at that point set up the function room for about 30 of us upstairs for the Saturday evening kick off. An exciting start had the game locked at 1-1 after 22 minutes before unprecedented fog caused an early postponement. Sky, to their credit honoured their arrangement and we all gathered again to watch the replayed game 11 days later. It was a double celebration as we won 1-0 with a last-minute John Thomas goal and I also had him in the sweepstake!

The pub closed its doors for the last time in 2004 and turned into student accommodation and then into the International Hotel.

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The Fighting Cock Pub. Image Credit Whatpub.com

Located a couple of hundred yards away on Heatley Street is the New Britannia. Before my time, there used to be an Old Britannia on Friargate but that was demolished in the mid 60’s to build the Ring Road.

I used to love the New Brit and had many lively nights in there, they had a lounge on the right and a games room on the left with a fine noisy jukebox in the middle. They had an arcade driving machine we used to play regularly, and they had some of the best beer in town with Castle Eden and my favourite Hartley’s on tap, the latter brewed in Ulverston at that stage.

We used to catch the 6.50 No 180 bus from Woodplumpton and land at the pub door for 7pm opening on a Friday. One night when I was about 18 my brother and I wanted to achieve a jolly status prior to a meet up with another group at 8pm. A personal best of 6 pints in 57 minutes were supped and a jolly status was summarily achieved!

There were very rare gigs there and I only attended one catching local band Mog Stanley on 04/02/12.

Preston Venue 12 – Polytechnic Part 2

Attached to the venue was a bar/nightclub called 42nd Street which we smuggled into a few times despite being non-students.

On 31/05/92 I went to see the Cornish band the Family Cat. It was a hot summer which at that point of my life was nosebleed season for me. It was a late decision to go with a couple of friends. We met in the Continental and then got distracted walking into town by Jools Holland playing a set on Avenham Park.

In the pub before the gig, some punters were watching a Nigel Benn title fight on a little TV in a corner. We went in about 11pm and caught an unnamed support act who had one song titled ‘Kenneth Clarke is a Sad Man’.

The place was about half full and I saw a pal of mine called Warren Beasley in the audience. A couple of years after Warren tragically died from cancer at the age of 26.    

Family Cat came on about 12.15. It never ceases to astound me looking back how late the sets were in those days, it would never or very rarely happen now. It was a nondescript gig and they played for about an hour.

In 1997 John Dewhurst, Uncle George, Gill and I went to see Billy Bragg.  It was 6 days before the General Election, and it was patently obvious that after 18 years of Tory rule we were finally going to see a Labour government. As a result, he was on fire that night literally preaching to the converted   and that enthusiasm created an anticipatory buzz in the crowd.  

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Billy Bragg. Image Credit The Salt Lake Tribune

The charged atmosphere added to the lustre of ‘Ideaology’ and ‘New England’. A thoroughly enjoyable set.

The following week the expected landslide came to pass. I recall on the Friday morning Dominik Diamond opened his show on 5 Live by stating ‘he was proud of the British public’ earning him a reprimand for breaching the legendary BBC impartiality rules.

That evening George and I headed into town where I could partake in my first legal drink under Labour power at the sprightly age of 29 and we took full advantage ending the night in the legendary Raiders nightclub!

It was an enervating time and on a personal level it coincided with major life events of buying our first house and getting married before the 90’s were out. The time period was the Yin to the current Yang of the post Brexit Covid Britain we currently reside in.

My final gig there was to see Electric Six on 29/11/03.  It was on a Friday night and the place was almost full. They were a six-piece band from Michigan and had just released their fine debut album ‘Fire’. They had shot to fame on the back of their two hit singles ‘Danger! High Voltage’ and especially ‘Gay Bar’ accompanied by a startlingly original video which resulted in me never looking at Abraham Lincoln in the same way!

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Electric Six. Image Credit brightonandhovenews.org

I think they remain the band that I was most surprised by in relation to how unexpectedly good they were, they were as tight as a drum live. Dick Valentine was an utterly engaging lead singer complete with a French stick as a prop.

Little did I know when I started attending gigs that in my mid 30’s I would be joyously bopping round a moshpit with a hundred others bellowing ‘I have got something to put in you’!