Watching ancient videos of the Happy Mondays recently reminded me how jawdroppingly brilliant they could be. I'm talking here about 1986 into 1987. I was lucky enough to see them a handful of times then. Firstly at the Rock Garden, just after Freaky Dancin' came out, then Jeff Barrett put them on at Bay 63. On both occasions there were probably less than a dozen people in the audience but everyone knew there was something special. Then I think Jeff put them on Portlands, and I remember Bobby Gillespie being there. Then the Mondays played with the Jasmine Minks when Jeff set up home at the Black Horse in Camden. That was the night some kid got up and did a rap during Little Matchstick Owen, and then when 24 Hour Party People came out the Mondays got to headline at the Black Horse and Shaun was handing out cans of lager to the people at the front. I didn't even drink but took one all the same. It's called courtesy. At the time I wrote rather enthusiastically about the group in a fanzine I called The Same Sky. So in a spirit of sharing (with big thanks to Daniel) here is the whole thing, or you can find it in the library on your left. Very much of its time (early 1987), but at least it had Julie Christie on the cover ...
Utterly utterly brilliant, a monsterous, steam driven funk machine, with fagin and dodger at the helm. I saw many of the early gigs (85-87)and mostly stood slack jawed staring at the marvel that was unfolding in front of me, kuff dam dam gone, what does it mean, who is 'enery anyway. I hopped aboard this merry gang of hash pirates and went along for the ride,impressive for a then 16 yr old to be taken into the heart of the crew, but thats how it was before the days of plasma screened celebrity. The steam ran out for me in 88,the rave may have been on, but the magical fug was gone, a new cast of hangers on was quickly assembling in the wings, keen to exploit the new found fame that Mondays kinship could bring, the drugs got harder and the music softer. Not for me the hallelujah,nor the judge fudge, the flame had gone out, but every now and then the Squirrel is pulled from that clear plastic sleeve and I'm instantly transported back to 1986 corbieres underground bar in Manchester, 20 people stood in a circle, captured by the funk and resin smoke....dont be no taxi, dont get no radio car.....
ReplyDeleteSpot on!
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