When I was 14 year old trainee indie
kid, my favourite thing to do was go to Birmingham to record shop
with my mate Trig. I say record shopping, our paper round money only
stretched as far as the train ticket and a lowly lunch (always, I
seem to remember, a can of fizzy Vimto and a packet of salt and
vinegar Disco's crisps), but we did like to look at the records and
the cute girls in stripy tights and Mega City Four t-shirts. Though
we didn't discuss it, we both hoped to run in to a pop star whilst in
the big city, one of Ned's Atomic Dustbin perhaps, or the holy of
holies Miles Hunt out of the Wonder Stuff.*
One day,
in Birmingham's Virgin Megastore, I was flicking through the 7”
singles while Trig rifled through the CD's downstairs. Across from me,
on the other side of the rack was Norman from Teenage Fanclub. I knew
it was him from reading the NME with religious zeal. He had the
trademark long centre parting and Lennon specs and was wearing a
dufflecoat and singing along loudly to the Neil Young track blaring
out of the PA.**I stood awestruck. It was if George Best or Ghandi
was in your local Co Op. I stood and watched him for a while,
desperately trying to find something to say to him, but my bottle
went so I joined Trig to look at the PWEI shorts upstairs. Later while
drinking pop and eating crisps in Victoria Square, freezing in our
long sleeve t-shirts (much to the chagrin of our mothers but vital to
show off our indie loyalties) I didn't mention the sighting to Trig.
It was a little because I knew he would be annoyed I didn't grab him
immediately (he would have certainly had the courage to say hello), a
little because I thought he wouldn't believe me but mostly because I
wanted the moment, the little bit of magic, to be my own.
At that point the only Teenage Fanclub music I
actually owned was a cassette compilation which included What You Do
To Me. I decided this situation needed rectifying post-haste. I felt
I owed it to my new pal Norman to listen to his records properly. So,
I consulted a lad in the year above called Kev Walder. As well as
being Shropshire's premier expert on Depeche Mode, he was very
friendly and happy to assist and advise aspiring indie kids. He told
my I needed to get a copy of Bandwagonesque, which had a pink cover
and and money bag on the front. I saved my paper round money and
bought the cassette from Rainbow Records. It was love at first
listen.
Cut to a few later, it's a deliciously
hot day at the Phoenix festival. Teenage Fanclub are on-stage and my
pal Sam and me are sat towards the back being gamely chatted up by
two girls from Newcastle. “You know what I do if I'm enjoying a
band?” asks Norman “I like to wave my shoe at them. Can you wave
shoes at me?” With that the view to the stage is blocked by
hundreds of items of footwear being held aloft. Norman lets go a
cheeky grin and tunes up. It's around this time it occurs to me I'm
doing one of my favourite bands an injustice by sitting down at the
back and need to experience them from the front. I make my excuses to
the girls and Sam (who look at me like I've lost leave of my senses)
and slalom my way through the people sat crossed legged, avoiding
knocking paper cupped pints over, to go to the front. As walk, the
sun pops up above the stage and the opening chords of Alcoholiday
ring out. This is, by far, is my favourite Fannies song by a mile at
this stage and it's the only time I've seen them do it live. There's
something magical about it, being young, a little drunk, the mix of
sunshine and those lazy, woozy chords. It's some kind of magic and
remains one of my all time favourite live music moments.
Meanwhile, the Fannies release
increasingly wonderful records and something called 'the internet'
gets invented. I'm quite lucky, my dad is the secretary of his union
and as such is responsible for sending 'emails' and before we know it
we have a brand spanking new computer and a dial up modem. Whilst
having all the information in the world at our finger tips is cool, it's
actually more fun downloading music by the armful. Soon I'm looking
up bands 'websites' and stumble across fans forums or message boards.
Interestingly, Teenage Fanclub have their own message board. I decide
to enquire within.
This was the
period when message boards were at their absolute pomp. The TFC board was
crammed with knowledgeable, friendly, funny people from all across
the world. It's impossible to gauge how many bands and records I got
into through the recommendations of this little on-line gang,
everyone of them just as childishly daft about music as me. What I
really loved was the sense of community, discussions went outside
music and about everything from the mighty to the mundane. It seems
daft now but I really felt amongst friends. When one of my favourite
posters, a guy called TomTom died it really did effect me. I felt
like I had lost a pal and in many ways I had. He was a great man, a
total hardcore TFC fan who was funny and daft and lovely. I knew more
about him, his loves, his politics, who he and his wife supported in
the football and sometimes what he was having for his tea. The shock
of has passing was real, as real as it could be for someone you had
never met, and the place never really felt the same again.
Sadly, the
place went a bit Lord of the Flies. The was (probably still is) Guest
setting where people could post anonymously which started off fine,
some of the funniest posts were by 'Guesty' but soon it started
getting a bit nasty and went out of control. Arguments would rage
about football and, being Celtic and Rangers fans, religion and
things started to get pretty horrible, with bullying and long ranting drunk abusive
arguments being the norm. After a young man we shall call Milla took
his own life due to on-line bullying*** is seemed prudent to join the
real world again. I'd still pop in occasionally. There was a new LP
called Man-Made out and I joined the discussion about how great it
was. Someone had asked why the CD came with a card slip case.
“Simple” replied Siobhan's Dad “It's for taking to the gig and
getting signed”
When the Man-Made tour hit Birmingham I
knew I was going to get the card signed. There was that kind of magic
in the air. The train was full of excited people off to different
shows. My gig was at the Academy 2, and almost comically small venue
for such a great band. They didn't let us down though. The gig was
incredible, all the favourites off all the albums (no Alcoholiday
mind) and the crowd was small (Birmingham can be funny like that) but
loyal and everyone had a great time. Afterwards I spotted Norman and
marched up with my slip case and Sharpie and even managed a quick
conversation while he signed, some gibberish about loving how 'dry'
the new record sounded. “Oh” he said raising an eyebrow “thanks”
and at that moment Gerry Love walked past and despite clearly wanting
to be somewhere else was a darling and signed it too. I practically
floated back to New Street Station.
The are bands we listen to when we are
happy, those we listen to when we are sad and those we reach out for
when something in life goes horribly wrong. There are bands we listen
to that make us feel young, bands we miss and bands we hope make
another record. To me, Teenage Fanclub are unique in so much they are
band I've grown up and grown old with. Whatever has happened in my
life, good and bad, big and small, they have been quietly in the back
ground sound tracking it all. When it was announced Gerry Love was
leaving the group I was quite saddened. Teenage Fanclub are like the
sun and the lamp posts outside your front door. They are something
you take for granted will always be there.
Happily, the bands aren’t
splitting entirely and Gerry did leave us with some wonderful goodbye
gifts in the form of the Creation era records being lavishly and
wonderfully remastered. When I went to buy the first two (I could
only afford to buy two a month , not because I was on paper round
money but because I'm a dad now) it was at the end of the first
proper summer in decades. I was still deciding which two to get on
the way to the record shop when I bump into Kev Walder, demob happy
from being let off work early and heading for the nearest beer
garden. I tell him I'm off into town to get the new Teenage Fanclub
record. “bloody hell” he says shaking his head with grin “nothing
changes does it?” And he's right. It really doesn't.
*We
never did meet Miles Hunt Birmingham but bizarrely bumped into him
Shrewsbury when I was old enough to know better. In a weird twist,
Mile's brother (the guy doing the Spinal Tap story in the Welcome to
the Cheap Seats video) owns a local record shop.
**Baring
in mind I didn't know Neil Young from Neil from the Young Ones at the
time, I may have embellished that bit. But it was definitely
something male and late 60's/early70's
***It
should be pointed out that it was mainly bullying on another site
though it a) certainly didn't help and b) makes it no less tragic
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