First and foremost

It's ten minutes before showtime and, backstage, Raymond Burns pulls on his his red and black stripy tee shirt together with his trademark beret & shades and, hey presto, goodbye Mr. Burns, hello Captain Sensible. As transformations go it's simple yet very effective. And no more so than when he appears from behind the curtain with his guitar slung over his shoulder, walks up to the microphone and says. ''Good evening, I'm Captain Sensible. You might remember me from Top of the Pops! But you don't want to hear bout that.'' And then, with nothing more than a ''1-2-3-4!,'' they launch into this - the set opener of all set openers:

The Damned - Ignite (1982)

It's hard to imagine a world without the Damned. They were a vital part of my growing up - every bit as essential as that first glug of underage cider or first fumble in the bushes. And the Damned were full of firsts - the first UK punk single, first punk band to appear on the telly, first punk band to tour America. I couldn't get enough of 'em. Damned Damned Damned remains, for me, the defining punk statement and sets out in a little over 30 minutes what punk and the new wave was all about.  

The fact that they are still a thing after nearly 50 years is nothing short of remarkable. Nearly as remarkable as me buying a tour shirt from the cut-price rogues who set up stall outside Rock City and peddle their wares right under the nose of the venue. If you're coming to BlogCon23 you'll probably see me wearing it.

What Have I Done Wrong?

I've lost count of the number of times I've seen Dodgy live. More than 20? Definitely. More than 50? Probably; and when I said here they'd be going round the country to mark the 25th anniversary of Homegrown (their second long player), I knew that I would drop all plans and get myself down the front.

It's hard to comprehend where the last quarter of a century has gone. 1994 seems like another world. Though I'm glad to report that even though a few brain cells have been lost along the way, I still have my original copy of the album. As well as my own teeth. And hair.

Of course Homegrown* had Staying Out For The Summer on there, and Melodies Haunt You, even So Let Me Go Far. But this was the standout song for me last night. Still relevant too, as Nigel Clark pointed out - social media has got a lot to answer for. It really has.

Dodgy - What Have I Done Wrong? (1994)

They were even selling programmes last night. How refreshing, how Dodgy. Five English pounds** secured a permanent reminder of a brilliant album and a brilliant night. And I still haven't ruled out Brighton and/or London yet...

* The song Homegrown, perversely, is not on Homegrown. It can be found on Free Peace Sweet.
** 10% of all profit made from the programme goes to Musicians Against Homelessness. 

Idling

'The biggest misconception people have about me is that I'm stupid'

Billy Idol recently tweeted that he's writing his memoirs. As coffee table books go it bears all the potential hallmarks of an interesting read; depending on how selective his memory is it should be a tad deeper than a copy of, let's say, Hello! magazine. I say should: he'll no doubt want to concentrate on the superstar years but I'm more interested in The Bromley Contingent, Chelsea, Generation X, playing darts with John Walters and whether or not he tuned his own guitar. His publisher, on the other hand, will probably insist that the early days are glossed over in the first chapter with the emphasis on White Wedding, motorbike crashes and his Hollywood Hills nubiles.

Either way, William Albert Broad and his chums in Generation X (Tony James, Derwood Andrews and Mark Laff) provided the back drop to one of the most memorable nights in the life of your humble narrator: on 2 December 1978 they played West Runton Pavilion on my best friend's 18th birthday. We spent the whole gig down the front dodging the gob. And flying beer cans. They were utterly brilliant. Unfortunately, no footage of the gig exists. Unlike the second time I saw Idol in the flesh nearly 30 years later at Nottingham's Rock City. I was covering the gig for the local paper and although I didn't quite do a hatchet job on him, I did receive hate mail from some of his adoring fans. He was quite clearly past his sell by date and, check my video (below) at 31 seconds, his microphone throwing* capabilities were not commensurate with those of a card carrying rock star. In fact, they were pretty sh*t.

I'll be interested to see if either of the above shows gets a mention. I shan't hold my breath.


* Roger, show Billy how it's done. Ah, maybe not.