I have been very fortunate to visit many foreign climes and witnessed many bands abroad but many of them have been of the on the hoof low quality holiday threshold. In that regard, my first gig abroad was at Majorca Santa Ponsa Square in 1997. In a rather quaint environment of a bandstand in the centre of a tourist square we saw a rather inferior Beatles tribute, but as with many of these gigs the compensation was the glorious sun and a beer in an ice-cold frosted tankard!
However, the second gig is in stark contrast to the first and at a completely different level. In September 1998, I married my ever supportive long-standing girlfriend Gill and we headed off for a few days to Dublin for our honeymoon.
It was a place we had always yearned to visit, and we thoroughly enjoyed our sojourn and we caught the city at a good time as we were in advance of it becoming a stag do destination and subsequent stratospheric prices. It is a very walkable destination and we embraced that approach dually soaking up the culture and visiting many hostelries and rather proudly we did not visit the same venue twice. We also found some fine restaurants dotted around the metropolis.
We headed out on the Dart (the local train) to visit interesting areas on the outskirts either side of the city, passing Ireland’s rugby mecca Lansdowne Road and walking on the pristine sands of Killiney Beach. I really found an affinity with this vibrant cosmopolitan city.
When I had booked the vacation, I thought it would be worthwhile identifying if there were any likely looking gigs that week and identified one at the Dublin Mean Fiddler. Fortuitously the venue was near the hotel and I recall in a pub next door to the venue on Wexford Road they were having a tribute night to Gene Clark, the founding member of the Byrds, who penned timeless tunes such as ‘Eight Miles High’ and ‘I’ll Feel a Whole Lot Better’.
I had previously visited the sister venue Harlesden Mean Fiddler in 1987 watching the troubadour Townes Van Zandt. The Dublin branch opened in 1995, subsequently closing in 1999 to reboot itself as a new venue called the Village which is still going strong.
It was a small cosy venue with a downstairs bar and an upstairs venue. We arrived quite early allowing us to grab a seat at a table on a gantry overlooking the stage. At that point, it was the first gig I had observed purely in a seated position. The venue capacity is 550 and it was probably about half full that night. The support band was the Nottingham band Six by Seven who were touring on the back of their debut album ‘The Things We Make’, they created a fine racket with the standout track being ‘Something Wild’ and I would badge their performance in the ‘earnest’ category!
The headline act was the underrated Delgado’s from Motherwell who were uniquely named after Tour de France winner Pedro Delgado. They set up their own record label Chemical Underground which initially signed up a very young Mogwai and Arab Strap. They were fronted by the enigmatic Emma Pollard and they cut an engaging entertaining presence.
After the gig, we headed out to the downstairs late bar and gained entry despite my comedy fall at the bottom of the steps due in part to imbibing several bottles of Becks!
This maybe the one where I out do you Jimmy, being a massive New Model Army fan I follow them around Europe, gigs include Hungary,Slovenia,Slovakia,France,Eire,,Belgium,Luxembourg,Poland,Netherlands,Austria,Switzerland and at least 40 German cities
No doubt about it Jez – you smash me out of the park when it comes to gigs abroad. You could have your own single blog on that subject!
Not much of a foreign gig attender but I did see Wilco in Palermo in 2005.
They played a free show in one of the piazzas of the La Kalsa district which is part of the historic centre of the city near the port.
It was part of an arts festival and was obviously a hurriedly arranged affair. The catering consisted of a local shopkeeper with a mobile cooler containing cans and bottles. The audience was mainly made up of slightly bemused looking local youths and a smattering of tourists.
Adding to the surreal atmosphere were a series of giant prints by art photographer David La Chapelle which were attached to the walls of the ancient square.
The support band were one of the most bizarre acts I’ve ever seen. I think they were called Velma and they may have been from Switzerland. They were more like a conceptual art piece than a band. The singer was probably about 30 but presented himself more like a middle aged man (dyed grey hair, tank top). One of their number consisted of a vaguely motorik beat with him saying « Thank you. No, thank you very much. No, really, thank you… » over and over again for about 10 minutes.
It was a great night.