In totality, I have attended Manchester Academy 3 nineteen times thereby placing it in 6th place on my most populated venues list.
Early in 2001, I began to become aware of the Strokes who released their terrific first album ‘Is This It’ later that year. I adore the way that record is recorded, sounding like they are in a New York basement, in a good way. I read in the NME they were playing Manchester and was fortunate to obtain four tickets from Piccadilly Records to a much-touted band for a sold-out gig.
John, Uncle George and Gill were in attendance on a filthy Thursday night in June. Walking up the steps to the top floor we passed Damon Gough (aka Badly Drawn Boy). He was later ensconced adjacent to us at the bar where a cliched fanboy approached him with the snappy refrain ‘love your album dude…’
The support band was Moldy Peaches followed by the main act who looked nervous initially, but they were excellent and had such admirable poise beyond the tender years.
I was perfectly content in the mosh pit when out of the blue somebody unseen threw a haymaker catapulting me halfway across the pit. Even the band looked taken aback. The assailant must have had a ring on as I had a proper bruise the next day.
Now I am a very chilled chap, but I was incandescent with rage at the sheer injustice of this unwarranted attack. There are unwritten rules for mosh pit etiquette and they were emphatically breached by this muppet!
In April 2005 John Peel faves 65 Days of Static were in town. They had a couple of entries in the previous year’s Festive fifty and were supported by Sons of Slaughter. They were decent live but a tad Mogwai lite.
A couple of years later we headed over to see Goldblade supported by the punk poet Ted Chippington. Everything about that gig was loud including John Cooper Clarke booming out of the speakers in between acts.
Goldblade were thunderous with John Robb vamping it up in his inimitable style. I had imbibed a few sherbets, so when they offered ‘Iggy Pop’ style for punters to enter the fray I grabbed a rare opportunity and leapt on stage with many other like minded folk.
Implausibly, it was even louder up there, and I found myself next to the drummer so proceeded to assist him by slapping away at the drums for one track which was very exhilarating! Another new nickname was christened – ‘Jimmy the Sticks’.
On 22/11/07 an exceedingly rare event happened, namely me driving to a gig! The reason for this unusual anomaly was that we were driving to Centreparcs at Penrith the following day for the weekend.
We landed in the venue just to catch the last two songs of a rather poor support act Son of Albion and somewhat cringingly for the band you could hear a pin drop when they finished, not even a polite smattering of applause!
The main band was the Raveonettes, a duo from Copenhagen with their fabulous names of Sune Rose Wagner on guitar and Sharon Foo on bass with the assistance of a drum machine. They excel in fuzzed up Mary Chainesque (made up word but describes it perfectly!) sound with gorgeous harmonies but with the additional bite of razor-sharp lyrics.
To exemplify those contrast shades, they have in their cannon a sugary sounding track in the vein of Strawberry Switchblade, but it then contains contextually the understandingly brutal title ‘Boys Who Rape Should Be Destroyed’. They have produced a suite of excellent albums across their lineage.
They were a captivating experience in the live setting and were immensely enjoyable.
When approaching my 42nd birthday I fancied attending a gig on the day so instigated a search and found that Against Me, a Florida punk band, were playing that night. Uncle George, Dave Keane and I sallied over on the quick train.
This remains one of the four gigs I have attended on my actual birthday, Neil Young on my 19th and I saw a band in Liverpool and Manchester respectively on my 43rd and 51st birthdays.
They were one of those bands that seem to instil intense loyalty from their fans and that was evident in the fervent atmosphere at the gig. They had an individual sound and it was a fun night.