To paraphrase Mr. J. Caesar: “I Cambridge, I saw-bridge, They conquered-bridge”
In typical Monty Python manner, I got up half an hour before I went to bed, as once again it was an unearthly early start for my next adventure-in-black. With my alarm still ringing in my ears, it was a quick shift before the taxi arrived in order to transport me to the airport – for the first flight out to Stanstead. No problems through security (they must recognise me by now!!) and time for a smoke and a couple of hands on the poker machine (no luck), before the tannoy announces the gate number for my flight.
Landing in Stanstead (at my normal wake-up time) I mooch around the shops until my train pulls into Platform 3C. A couple of stops and I have arrived in sunny Cambridge – the sun may be out but it’s cool – at least it is dry though. So, what do you do when you find yourself in a centre of learning? I walked around and got my bearings – this is only my second visit to Cambridge – but it is surprising how my legs’ muscle memory transports me to where I want to go – The Archeology and Anthropology Museum. I spend a while seated in the secluded, enclosed gardens outside the museum – having a smoke and daydreaming about fuck knows what – when I am approached by a young Asian lady, asking if I was here for the Archeology Conference?
ME: “I didn’t know there was one”
HER: “Are you going?”
ME: “Ummmmm….NAH”
After looking at my former ancestors’ various bones, skeletons and ape-like good looks, I exited and mossey-ed around to the venue, but it was still too early for soundchecks and unloading of equipment, so I was off to try and book in early to my hotel – I was even willing to pay the extra for an early check-in. FAIL!! Oh well, back on Shank’s pony and roaming around Cambridge until three o’clock.
Dandering around the town, gawking at stunning architecture, I am amazed how slowly everyone appears to walk – I know I’m no Speedy Gonzales when it comes to perambulation – but Jesus H. Christ, get a fuckin’ move on!! Cambridgonians (or whatever they are called) are on a different level of slow. And they take up the entire fuckin’ footpath!! Pavement Rage!! Anyway, having managed to remain calm – I’m not in any rush – I hear my name being shouted from across the street. Only the dulcet tones of Alastair (the peerless prequel punter) as we catch up before going our separate ways.
Having circumnavigated Cambridge, I return to the hotel and manage to check in an hour early (not too bad) and as I’m unpacking and sorting my shit out, I receive an unexpected call from Billy Barr – and shock, horror – he is only 5 minutes away!! COOL. He wasn’t supposed to be here tonight. As he parks up outside the hotel, and before I can even ask WTF!!, he presents me with a long promised gift – a signed Ian Rush Corinthian football figure (still sealed and boxed) NICE. Explanation given as to why he is here tonight and he’s off again – away to get eats and parked. I needed some kip before tonight’s gig, so we agreed to rendez-vous again at 18:00 hrs and take it from there.
TICK-TOCK….TICK-TOCK…..
When Billy returns, it’s a quick freshen up, anti-BO sprayed under-arm, change of T-shirt and we are off. Billy decides to drive to the venue (and I for one ain’t arguing) and after parking up, we head to The Regal (not The Eagle) for the pre-gig social. Upon entering we are immediately confronted by John, Paul and (the fifth Beatle) Campbell, and also unexpectedly – and a nice surprise) Elaine and Moz. As we catch up on sons and daughters (in-law) and new arrivals, the bar is slowly but surely filling up with further friends and familyinblack. Dave the Red (a.k.a.Sunderland Dave or Mr Colling to his pupils), Pat and Dave, Adrian and Gunta (Mo-less, but she is in attendance) to name but a few. Main topic of conversation is the upcoming Japanese Tour – the ultimate bucket list tick-off for many – and costs, culture and Tokyo tales from previous trip go-er John are regaled – never mind the borrocks, here’s rhe real shit. The more I hear, the more I’m intrigued and equally put off. 15 Steps too far?? As the drink flows and the after a couple of smoke room visits, it is soon time to make our move.
A quick walk (very quick if you are trying to keep up pace with Chopper!!) and we have arrived. I exchange my corn at the door (three maize and one wheat in change – RESULT!!) and after having my ticket taken off me (to much consternation – you’ll get it back later) I receive my UV(F) stamp for entry to this evening’s portal into the world of Stranglerdom. Unlike my legs, my brain couldn’t remember what this venue was like – but it all hits home as I walk through the doors to the inner sanctum – a shit-hole LOL – especially in comparison to some other recent halls played. No wonder it was non-memorable!! As we move through the packed crowd it seems too much hassle to fight further and just at that point the lights dim, WIB echoes around the high ceilinged metal roof and I stop where I am.
The usual platter of starters prepare us nicely for the main course – tonight supplemented with an extra side of ‘Time To Die’ – another ‘mix-up’ to the set as promised by JJ and another ‘new’ tune for me this tour. TTD is a satisfying and enjoyable addition to the menu. ‘Water’ has somehow seaped it’s way back into the set – allowing an early smoke break. It says a lot when this overtakes GB as the preferred choice for a fag!! and therefore allowing me a rare opportunity to witness the self-congratulatory Baz solo effort an hear ‘Always The Sun’ with added wooden-block cheering (ain’t heard that for a while). A few tweeks to the list saw WOB return to first encore spot before the roof is lifted off with the bass plunder of ‘Heroes’. Baz was a bit more interactive with the crowd this evening – nice shout out to Charlie “STRANGLERS” Braddock (the new haircut not having the Samson effect on his vocal chords) – and the balcony (flask and pickled onion sandwiches) versus the stalls (real people) joke went down well again. Lights up, bows and waves to the audience – plicks and sticks duly distributed to the baying vultures at the front – exit stage. Goodnight.
Making my way to the stage front, I managed to catch up with the folks I knew were in attendance but had not yet seen – a Kat-less Bill, Lou and Rebus, Pidge, Karen, Dave, Mr T. and Shazzer – a quick but enjoyable mustering.
Billy was driving back up home tonight but still returned to The Regal post-gig, however there was no-one in attendance. As I was feeling a bit rough (long day, post-lurgey) and not feeling 100% and the offer of a lift back to my hotel over-ruled any notion I might have had been harbouring of another late night boozing session. Dropped off outside, we said our farewells and I even managed (unbelieveably) to work the key-card operation to gain automatic entry to the hotel. Soon as, I was lying in bed watching the big hat/small hat dilemma on Hypothetical before nodding off. Next morning, a call from Billy to check I was OK preceded my alarm by 30 seconds and allowed me another early-ish start needed to catch my flight home.
In my humble opinion ( and converse to many other reports) not the best of gigs tonight – but that may have been more down to my disposition rather than that of the band. It sits low down the league of the gigs I have thus far attended, even though pretty flawless tonight (Dave only fluffing a few lines). The re-introduction of ‘WOB’ (for me personally) meant points dropped – not in relegation danger but may not make it into the Champions League spot.
Roll on Manchester…. what further set changes will appear?
ALTERNATIVE MULLSTER 