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The Man in the White Shirt
Remember last Friday’s gig, when I described the Atomic Superman as ‘bonkers’? Well, they were just the warm-up for last night’s craziness. In fact, I’d go as far as to describe the whole event as ‘totally Upminster’. If you’re familiar with the Tube map, you’ll know that Upminster is the end of the District line – some way beyond Barking. Well, we were there – and then some.
To start our Mod/Ska/Punk weekend special, Connor and Mitch had managed to pull off their best Aberdare Blowout to date. Somehow they’d booked the legendary two-hit wonder John Otway. With a support line-up of Cool Beans and Head Noise, it was a recipe for chaos from the word go. Needless to say, I snapped up my ticket as soon as they went on sale. Then I embarked on a mission across South Wales to help the lads spread the word. Previous Blowout events have been aimed at the younger end of the market (as I’ve noted before), but John Otway’s core audience is in my age bracket or older again. I think it’s fair to say that social media is a necessary evil for a lot of them. Even on Thursday afternoon I was pointing my friends towards the Blowout booking website, as I didn’t have any physical tickets left. Word of mouth remains the best form of advertising.
And it worked.
A bank holiday gig was always going to be a hit-and-miss affair, because a lot of people had already made plans. But having something to actually do in Aberdare on a Friday night is a novelty anyway. And for a man who’s only troubled the charts twice in his forty-odd year career, it was surprising how many people have heard of John Otway. The chance to see ‘rock and roll’s greatest failure’ for a mere fiver was too good to pass up. When punters started piling into the bar before the doors even opened, I knew the lads were on a winning streak.
I was joined by my pals Rhian, Steve, Phillip, Rebecca. Lee, Liam, and our resident photographers Clint and Ros. Tim and Huw came in soon after us; Bernie and one of his biker mates rocked up; Matt, Sian, Martyn, Darren and Jayne came in a little while later. Chris and Rhuddian sneaked in undercover, as I bumped into them at the bar. There were plenty of people I know by sight, too. It was great to see old friends like Simon and Belinda – who rarely, if ever, come out for a pint. I think we’ll be seeing them more often, as they were highly impressed with the place.
John Otway himself was manning the merchandise table, and we had a brief chat while he was signing my copy of his autobiography, Cor Baby, That’s Really Me. I mentioned that I’d seen him at the Cropredy festival, when he was reunited with his old sparring partner Wild Willy Barrett. (It was longer ago than either of us thought. I’ve just checked, and it was August1997.) I also asked him if we could have a brief chat after the gig, so that I had some material for this very blog. He was happy to oblige. Nice guy.
Then the fun really started.
Cool Beans arose from the Thursday Night Music Club. While we non-musicians were plodding through our karaoke sets in the Lighthouse, a group of my pals were getting together above Chris Davies’s shop in town and writing songs. I’ve known the guys for years – in fact, I’ve known James since he joined Defcon, back in 1987 or so. Anything that James is involved with is going to be totally off the wall to begin with. Chris sings and plays the keyboard in Cripplecreek and Spirit of Boogie; Nick plays guitar in at least one other band; Simon, their drummer, is married to an old friend of mine. I’ve heard some of their crazy songs online, but last night was the first time I’d seen them live.
How do you describe Cool Beans to the uninitiated? How do you even go about describing a band whose frontman plays panpipes and ukelele (at the same time)? A band who sample the legendary ‘angry woman outside Aberdare Tesco’ YouTube clip. A band who’d roped in Geraint Benney to interpret their lyrics – in real time – via drawings executed on large pieces of paper taped to the back wall. Mere words don’t do them justice. Mitch has described their gig as an ‘brilliant arty set of alternative folk music’, so I’ll let that stand for now. If you haven’t managed to catch Cool Beans in the flesh, you’ve really missed an extraordinary phenomenon.
Head Noise had billed their set as an acoustic performance, which is only one third correct. Wayne was plugged in as usual; Mitch had his keytar (found in a charity shop for a couple of quid), which probably wouldn’t sound great without batteries; Brill, at least, was playing an acoustic guitar. As with James, anything Mitch is involved with is sure to be weird from the get-go.
Head Noise also defy description if you haven’t experienced them before. They describe their stuff as ‘low-fi art rock’, which is pretty fair. I’ve seen them several times, and they keep getting stranger. It was a fairly frantic set, with Mitch throwing his usual shapes up front and the others criss-crossing the stage behind him. There was a bit of audience participation, plenty of fun and games, and even the old Bankupt Pug favourite ‘Nasty Pasty’. It’s a great celebration of the now-defunct Ferrari’s bakery chain, where Rhian used to work. (She was convinced she hadn’t heard it before, which tells you how drunk she was last time Mitch sang it.) You need to see Head Noise to get the full story. They’ll definitely be here again in a few months’ time.
Finally our headliner took to the stage. The first thing John Otway did was to take off his jumper, revealing his trademark white shirt. Armed only with his electric guitar, he ran through his classic ‘Cor Baby, That’s Really Free’ with everyone singing the refrain. Straight after that was ‘Beware of the Flowers’, and it was great to hear everyone singing along. John has been a fixture of the festival circuit for years, and regular gig-goers are probably familiar with his act. He certainly didn’t disappoint his fans, but newcomers to his particular brand of craziness (like Rhian and Rebecca) were taken completely unawares.
There was the obligatory question-and-answer take on ‘House of the Rising Sun’. There was a song about poor mobile phone reception, with the mic cutting out at intervals. There was the sheer insanity of ‘Body Talk’, with drum pads in his pockets and a theremin to provide the musical backing. There was a mic support fashioned from a coat hanger, apparently inspired by Bob Dylan’s harmonica. I’ve never seen a guitar made of two bodies hinged together, with the necks pointing in opposite directions. It was, John explained, a twelve-string guitar. Lunacy on stilts!
Between songs he kept us amused with his daft stories, self-deprecating humour (‘I’m ambidextrous, you know. I play guitar equally badly with both hands.’) and silly antics. There was a good deal of banter with his ‘roadie’, a young lad who didn’t utter a word throughout. There were the forward rolls, launched from a keyboard stand. I returned to the music room just in time to hear ‘Bunsen Burner’, his second (and final) hit based on the classic ‘Disco Inferno’. And, needless to say, he finished with ‘Headbutts’. It was an absolute riot from start to finish, and definitely the best gig we’ve had here since I started coming in regularly.
Before the dust had settled, as we’d arranged, I bought John Otway a pint and we sat down for five minutes. Based on our meandering chat, here’s an exclusive interview with the man himself.
S: Welcome to Aberdare – possibly the most bonkers town in South Wales.
J: It’s interesting!
S: What do you think of the place?
J: It’s lovely. What a lovely night, really, really good.
S: I was late on the coat-tails of Punk. You were there, right on the cutting edge. Good to know the spirit is still alive and well, isn’t it?
J: Yeah. Not only that, but people are still prepared to come out and see it, which is wonderful. This is obviously quite a new venue? A lot of people have said that live music venues are going, but there is a resurgence of really, really good new venues.
S: Aberdare’s needed a place like this for as long as I’ve been going to gigs, and I’m 52 now. What do you reckon to this place, then?
J: I think this is a lovely venue. It’s delightful. Good sound, good lights … I mean, it’s perfect. I love the way it’s laid out … everything. Brilliant venue! And delightful to play.
S: Would you come back?
J: Oh, absolutely, yeah.
S: When I saw you up at Cropredy … Man! I was quite disappointed tonight that you didn’t come away from “Headbutts” with blood pouring from your head. Is it an age thing? Are you kinda toning it down …?
J: There are some things that look pathetic if you keep doing it. I’m not doing too badly, though – I was still doing somersaults at 65.
S: I was lucky to do a somersault at 15. I have to say, all credit to Mitch and Connor for putting this on tonight.
J: Yeah!
S: And our kind of age group as well, if you know what I mean. Look at the cross-section of the audience, we’ve got everyone from teenagers up to …
J: Yeah, it’s great, wonderful crowd. (Shouts) Thank you, Aberdare!
S: It’s been an absolute honour to have you here tonight. John, you’re a real star. Thank you very much, and come back soon.
