Manchester Venue 59 Sound Control – Part 3

There was an understandable backlash when the closure of Sound Control was announced, and a petition launched by one Preston punter (not me!), but they obviously do have damn fine tastes in that city! However as is often the way against commercial organisations, it was all in the end ultimately futile.

The next gig in the Sound Control Music Room in May 2013 was an interesting one. As we exited the station around 6pm we witnessed some activity outside the venue and grabbed the opportunity to check on stage times as the gig that evening was a dual headlining tour. As we enquired, a transit van rolled up and an intrigued observer jumped out and joined in the chat for us to then discover it was Patrick Stickles, the lead singer of Titus Andronicus.

See the source image
Titus Andronicus on stage. Image Credit buffablog.com

I first picked up on this unique band in 2008 via their remarkable but somewhat demented debut album Airing of Grievances, which was favourably reviewed at the time as the sound of a ‘violent, overblown and irreverent’ indie band, I have read many lesser appraisals. The band themselves were once in a Shakespeare musical question clue on University Challenge, unsurprisingly unrecognised by the University team. Titus was also the name chosen for the lead character in the remarkable Gormenghast Trilogy.

They were formed in New Jersey in 2005 and have cited Neutral Milk Hotel as an influence and you can hear that very band pervading through their musical output. They were strange but enjoyable and to exemplify this, their bassist in the middle of the set proceeded to impart a rambling surreal tasteless gag and without any preamble after it launched straight into the next thunderous tune.

In the gap between bands, we retired to the bar and whilst endeavouring to get served we were assailed by a random but regular holler of Hold Steady, the shouts emanated from a chap called Nigel who had recognised us from a recent gig, and we proceeded to see him sporadically at further gigs and chatted about music and his allegiance to Charlton FC. It was rapidly turning into a slightly odd evening.

Now I was once referenced in the NME review as one of a ‘couple of dodgy individuals pogoing at the front’ at a Snuff gig at Preston Caribbean Club in 1990, a quote I will be eternally proud of! However, I had never yet been featured in an NME photo, just missing out at a Screaming Blue Messiahs gig at Manchester International as I must have stepped back from stage as the camera clicked.

The main band this night was again F##ked Up who were in good nick with their lead singer Pink Eyes who has a habit of marauding the moshpit. There was a panoramic picture of him in the crowd in the famous music magazine next week. I hungrily scoured the hundred people pictured but would you credit it I was a yard to the left off camera; it was obviously never destined to be!

Three years later in 2016 I went to see the Connecticut post rock band The World is a Beautiful Place and I Am No Longer Afraid to Die. They were in the mould of luminaries such as Maybe She Will and Explosions in the Sky. They had entered my galaxy via their debut album ‘Whenever, if Ever’. They were an enjoyable interesting proposition live.

See the source image
The World is a Beautiful Place and I Am No Longer Afraid to Die. Image Credit godisinthetvzine.co.uk

My final gig was my own sabbatical to the venue as it took place 15 days before its closure on 01/12/17. I had only been resident in Manchester for three months so was still somewhat in a bit of a haze, so it was good to have a merry band of six over from Preston to see the legendary Rocket from the Crypt. We made the obligatory visit to the Noodle Bar down Oxford Road before discovering Refuge bar for the first time as it always thought previously it was part of the hotel!

Rocket were understandably a step down from the level of their astounding gigs in the mid-late 90’s but as ever were good value and my pal Paul Wilson obtained a selfie with the frontman Speedo post-gig. The boys headed back on the Preston train whilst I was still encountering the strangeness of a 10-minute commute back to the rental, though there was a detour to the midnight Tesco that evening for much needed unhealthy snacks!  

Preston Venue 5 – Caribbean Club Part 1

Located on the corner of Kent and Canute St buried in the back streets of Deepdale, near a couple of old battered boozers you would have found the Caribbean Club (formerly the Twang Club). It was basically an old social club and had one side for members and the other for functions and gigs. It had excellent bar staff and the capacity was probably around 400. I frequented it four times between 1985 and 1992. The venue closed in 2009.

One of those visits was my first gig of a new decade on 05/01/90 to see Snuff, a South London Ska/Punk band. I had been bought their debut album for Christmas. I would contend that the album title is the longest one in history, namely –‘Snuffsaidgorblimeyguysstonemeifhedidn’tthrowawobblerchachachachachachachachachachachayou’regoinghomeinacosmicambience’.

John, Uncle George and I were in attendance and we met in the Moorbrook pub. John had the night before interviewed the then PNE chairman Keith Leeming for the club fanzine ’53 Miles West of Venus’.

I cannot recall the name of the first band, but they did covers of Prong songs. Blammo were the main support and were fronted by a Mark E Smith lookalike. I bought a 50p flexi disc afterwards and I may still have it somewhere.

Snuff came on about 11.15 and they did a combination of original tracks and astutely chosen cover versions. ‘Somehow’ and ‘I Think We’re Alone Now’ were standout tracks. They were and remain a great live act and were very crowd interactive. They also played Bran Flakes (They’re tasty!) and Shake N Vac jingles at 100mph. They played to 12.15 and I remember a chap approached them afterwards with a computer printout of every venue they had played – obviously a kindred spirit!

See the source image
Snuff, pictured in 1990. Image Credit blogspot.com

Now at a couple of other gigs I have just been out of the frame on crowd pictures on NME gig reviews, namely Screaming Blue Messiahs and F—-d Up. However, my moment of fame had arrived as the NME review afterwards outlined it as a great gig despite a couple of slightly dodgy individuals pogoing away in front of the stage, I am so proud of that reference etched forever in black and white print!

My last attendance was on 08/02/91 to see the Membranes. I was living in various grotty rented rooms from 1989-1993 and didn’t attend many gigs in that period due to lack of funds. This state of play was exemplified by this being my first gig for 5 months. On the Friday afternoon of the gig I bought my first car from a friend of mine – a classy Beige Allegro!

See the source image
A not dissimilar looking motor, but not me driving! Image Credit flickr

Quick car tale – I recall once being on the motorway and encountering two other Allegro’s following each in the inside lane so I joined on the back to create a convoy of three Allegro’s for a few miles – hopefully providing a quirky sighting for motorists speeding past.

Prior to the Membranes gig, there was a works outing I joined up with in the Exchange pub at 5pm. Later that evening there was a split in the fellowship as a good portion heading off to another do at Grasshoppers Rugby Club. Myself, George and a couple of other lads via Pickwicks Tavern landed at the gig about 9.30, with admission fee of £2.50.

Support was an anarchist band called Archbishop Kebab, whose name was the best thing about them as their lead singer was pretty woeful. Between bands the DJ spun one of the Husker Du’s finest tunes, their bracing cover of Byrds ‘Eight Miles High. Big Al and Gordon from Action Records wandered in to the venue at this stage.

Membranes are a post punk band from Blackpool formed in 1977 fronted by John Robb and were at that stage a three-piece. They broke up shortly after this gig and reformed in 2009 and are still on the circuit.  They were very loud and decent and played to 12.15. They were maybe a tad too industrial for my tastes, but a good time was had in the moshpit.

We had been out for a fair spell so were all flagging so wended our way home. Woke up next morning, no hangover and buzzing, got outside, car wouldn’t start…………  

To complete the Allegro tale, it finally gave up the ghost about three years later and was towed unceremoniously to the scrap yard which happened to be about 200 yards from the location of the Caribbean Club!