Tag: Mogwai

Other British Gigs 5 – Ayr

I always readily jump at every opportunity available to head North of the border and one of my favourite places to visit is the town of Ayr. The town is situated on the southwest coast of Scotland and lies just south of Prestwick Airport.

The main musical claim to fame of the airport occurred on the date of 3rd March 1960 when a certain Sergeant Elvis Presley had a stopover as he was just finishing up his national service. Upon alighting from the plane, he reputedly asked ‘Where Am I?’. Due to the astonishingly unhealthy control his ‘manager’ Colonel Tom Parker held over him this was rather mournfully the only two hours he ever spent on British land!

Elvis has left the plane! Image Credit pinterest.com

Ayr is a popular tourist destination due to its railway links and the fact that it has a fabulous beach slap bang in the centre of town. Robert Burns was born nearby and there is also a considerable musical heritage with Stuart Murdoch (Belle and Sebastian), Simon Neil (Biffy Clyro) and Mike Scott (Waterboys) having been born there.  It was also obscurely recognised as the second healthiest town centre in the UK in 2014 by the Royal Society of Public Health.

I missed an opportunity to visit in the late 90’s when John and Tony Dewhurst and Uncle George had a very merry night in the many hostelries before the following day heading to catch the ferry at Wemyss Bay over to the Isle of Bute.

The reason for them visiting this unusual location was to witness a famous Mogwai gig in Rothesay on the island. I was always then under the impression that the band headed back on a chartered boat with fans to the Port of Glasgow whilst undertaking a DJ set, but Stuart Braithwaite corrects me on that take of events in his recent autobiography where they actually stayed on Bute that evening and had their own private party.    

A random fact for you now, Rothesay Castle is one of a very small list of castles in Scotland that still has a remaining moat. The source of this information was from a line in an Iain Banks book Raw Spirit, purchased in a charity shop in Settle, that I am currently reading where he went in search of the perfect Whiskey dram. Iain remains my favourite ever author and his early untimely death in 2013 still stings alongside the corresponding loss of the delightful anticipation of waiting for his latest novel to be released.

Gill and I have visited Ayr a couple of times to attend the Gold Cup and the Scottish Grand National meetings at the nearby racecourse where they have been held since 1965. On the second occasion I recall it being absolute carnage on the packed shuttle bus back into town, but in a Scottish high jink’s fun kind of way!

On our initial visit in 2011 we stayed the night before the races due to the long commute journey involved getting there. There were some fantastic restaurants located in the town including a superb ‘cheap as chips’ Chinese place next to the Wetherspoons and Gill still contends she sampled the best ever Lasagne in one of the Italian restaurants.   

On the Wednesday night, I was corresponding with my pal Tony Dewhurst who was down in Somerset to potentially witness Lancashire Cricket Club win their first County Championship title for 77 years, but it was looking very unlikely at that stage. On the Thursday morning, we took a life-affirming walk along the beach trying to pick some winners for the day and the sunshine was thankfully cracking the flags.

Ayr ‘Riviera’ Beach at night. Image Credit Pinterest.

After the meeting had finished, we headed into the Ayr Racecourse Horseshoe Bar to allow the crowds to clear before heading back into town.  As we were chatting to another couple a local band called Sistrum booted up and played a set in the corner of the room.

In the taxi back into Ayr I got a text from Tony informing me that Lancashire had just sealed the title, so a glass was thus raised to their historic achievement in an Irish bar near to the station, prior to having a superb curry to finish the trip in style.  

Gateshead Gigs – Part 2

My first ever foray to Newcastle was in 1987 when my local Preston North End team went on an impressive FA Cup run. Despite being in the bottom division at that stage, we had a famous win at Middlesbrough in the Third round before drawing Newcastle away in the Fourth round. About 6000 fans headed up and I remember a convoy of coaches crossing the impressive Tyne Bridge, but unfortunately we lost the match 2-0.

The Tyne Bridge with the Sage in the background. Image Credit Evening Chronicle.

On Mogwai’s 2023 tour, and almost twelve years to the day from the previous 2011 Gateshead date, Uncle George and I decided to make a return visit. I had already undertaken a double header aural battering in Manchester on the Thursday and the Friday before a day off on the Saturday and then headed up to the Northeast on the Sunday.

Due to train constraints, it was a logistical challenge initially involving my first ever Uber journey. Now, I must say I am somewhat conflicted about Uber’s and the working conditions they abide to, but to salve my conscience somewhat the driver who took me into town stated he preferred his job to his previous role as a Black cab driver, albeit the smallest possible sample size to draw these findings from!

My route incorporated trains from Manchester to Wigan, Wigan to Carlisle, a 45-minute wait and then onto the bone rattler Northern train into ‘Heidi’ territory over the mountain pass into Newcastle, a small matter of over 5 hours since I left home. I simply would not have undertaken this journey for any other band!  

We were staying again at the Quayside and then navigated our way back up the very steep steps to the welcoming Bridge Inn at the apex, where we encountered a fine ale, a roaring fire, and Six Nations on the TV. We then scouted around the corner for a quality pint of Porter in an excellent Taps bar called Split Chimp.

After grabbing some tea in a Turkish restaurant, we headed over the High-Level Bridge to a terrific little bar owned by my pal Gary Moore and his partner. Gary is also a keen muso and a huge Eels fan, he retired a few years ago and bought a pub, which sounds like a fine career change to me!

The venue is called Microbus and is ensconced within the arches on Wellington Street and they have created the bar from the front of a campervan and there is an old bus stop inside and a live-time bus timetable display so you have no excuses as to when to finish off your pint!

Inside the inimitable Gateshead Microbus bar. Image Credit microbus.pub

They have also just been awarded the Tyneside and Northumberland CAMRA’s pub of the year and this is all within the first year of its launch. They do stage music but unfortunately not on the night of my attendance. The site used to be a café back in the 1960’s and the story goes that a chap called Alan Hull was stuck on a bus outside in pea souper smog and allegedly wrote the famous song ‘Fog on the Tyne’ whilst he was sat there.        

A quick five-minute walk brought us to the venue and we swiftly released we were in the larger Gateshead Sage Stage 1, an unexpected bonus new venue. The larger room is apparently modelled on the Musikverein in Vienna and the acoustics were compellingly impressive.

It was my favourite performance of the three as there was room to breathe in comparison to the Friday Manchester gig, a very respectful audience and the venue created a very lush sound.  ‘Summer’ and ‘Mogwai Fear Satan’ were particularly epic.

Post-gig we headed to the Tiger Hornsby and got chatting to a couple of lads from Galashiels who had also attended the gig. We were informed on entry that they would be closing in 20 minutes but then must have taken a likeness to us as they very generously served us for another hour.

Back at the hotel, we watched the Superbowl until they reached half time. The following day, thankfully the trains behaved themselves and I enjoyed total musical silence on the way home to rest my jaded ears!