Don Giovanni, English National Opera, London Coliseum, 10 June 1989

I don’t have great memories of seeing this opera, but I think my memories of it are more closely linked to my general mood that weekend than to any intrinsic issue with the opera/production…

…other than to say that this experience probably helped to kick off the view, which has become a prevailing one, that opera ain’t me.

Bobbie was there for this one, as was Ashley Fletcher – yes, my memory definitely serves me correctly for this one, as the diary makes clear that Ashley was down for the weekend and stayed in the tower – i.e. the annex to my flat in Clanricarde Gardens – so named, by Ashley, as he felt that the place would be suitable for the detention of a mad and/or elderly relative. That annex now serves as my office – renamed the ivory tower – a more liberal purpose and name.

But I digress.

Not much about it on the net, given its antiquity, but here’s some stuff from the translator, Amanda Holden.

While here is a rather cute link to a fan’s piece:

Below is Tom Sutcliffe’s Guardian review:

Sutcliffe on GiovanniSutcliffe on Giovanni Fri, Mar 24, 1989 – 31 · The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) · Newspapers.com

I’ll write more about other aspects of the weekend after I have had a chance to liaise with Ashley on’t matter. Bobbie and I had a rather entertaining conversation about in 28 February 2019…

…a few days before I wrote up this piece, about Don Giovanni.

Postscript after seeing Ashley in April 2019: Ashley has no recollection of that weekend. So we must rely on Bobbie’s memory that I was tripping out on tiredness and rather freaked at the thought of going out to get some additional soap, as there was none for Ashley in the shower of the tower. If I really did say words to the effect:

I did not envisage this weekend as a soap buying weekend…

…that would have to be up there amongst my most autistic utterances ever. I have a dreadful feeling that Bobbie’e memory is going to be bang on regarding that point.

Aida, Earls Court Arena, 29 June 1988

Within a few weeks of Bobbie’s and my first visit to the opera together, to see The Magic Flute…

…we went to see the opera spectacular that everyone was talking about that summer; Harvey Goldsmith’s Aida at the Earls Court Arena.

It was only running for a few nights with massive crowds. It was big news:

We went the night after Chuck & Di attended the Royal Gala evening – by all accounts an iconic event.

In truth, by the time we got there – indeed by the time Chuck and Di got there – the production had been hailed as somewhat disaster-prone:

This clip dated the day we went – 29 June 1988

…Verdi’s Aida at Earls Court, with a cast of some 600 performers was bedevilled by mishap: Miss Grace Bumbry in the title role could only manage one act of her first performance due to a throat infection and a sun god fell through a trap door on stage…

from The Spectator 2 July 1988 – subscribers can click through to the archive and read the whole article.

I don’t recall it seeming like a disaster. I do recall it feeling more like being at a rock concert than at a theatrical production. I think we had good seats but were still at some distance from the action. It was big, bold and in truth not really me.

I don’t think this one was really Bobbie either – she might remember how she felt about it.

Below is Tom Sutcliffe’s Guardian review:

Tom Sutcliffe on AidaTom Sutcliffe on Aida Tue, Jun 28, 1988 – 17 · The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) · Newspapers.com

Here is an entertaining clipping from the Observer Arts Diary a few days later:

Arts Diary AidaArts Diary Aida Sun, Jul 3, 1988 – 39 · The Observer (London, Greater London, England) · Newspapers.com

The Magic Flute, English National Opera, London Coliseum, 7 June 1988

Now I’m not one to point the finger or anything like that, but my guess is that it was primarily Bobbie’s idea to give opera a go, not least because so many of her law reporting pals were into opera.

I’m pretty sure my previous experience of opera would have been Carmen in the early 1970s; a semi-professional production by the Putney Operatic Society who chose to typecast me and several of my primary school mates as urchins.

But I digress.

Roll the clock forward some 15 years and, like buses, it’s not one but two that come along at more or less the same time – i.e. two opera visits during June 1988. That’s quite a lot of opera just a few week’s before my Accountancy finals. The Magic Flute was the first of them.

Jeremy Sams directed it – I have seen a great deal of his work in the theatre of course. Nicholas Hytner produced it – I’ve seen a lot of his theatre stuff too. The production was sort-of revived many years later and the trailer for the revival is embedded below, so that should give you a feel for it.

The Magic Flute from English National Opera on Vimeo.

We went midweek – on a Tuesday – which will have been quite a late night. I was on study leave by then I think, so I suppose I felt that I was master of my own time management.

In truth I don’t remember all that much about this production, other than lots going on and rather liking the music because it’s Mozart and I rather like Mozart.

Bobbie might have more profound memories of it than me. I’ll ask her.

Below is Tom Sutcliffe’s Guardian review:

Tom Sutcliffe on Magic FluteTom Sutcliffe on Magic Flute Fri, Apr 1, 1988 – 30 · The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) · Newspapers.com

Below is BOGOF (buy one get one free) review by Nicholas Kenyon – two productions of Flute (including our one) reviewed together:

Nicholas Kenyon reviews two flutesNicholas Kenyon reviews two flutes Sun, Apr 3, 1988 – 39 · The Observer (London, Greater London, England) · Newspapers.com

The Day That Early Music Found Me, 31 October 1987

Sometimes people like me have a pivotal moment in their self-education about music. I discovered this week (writing in February 2018) that mine was on 31 October 1987.

You’ll need to roll with this one, dear reader, it is a somewhat convoluted tale but in the end it is riddled with strange coincidences twixt 2018 and 1987. I hope this piece has some interesting general insights too.

The evening before I went to Christopher Page’s fascinating Gresham lecture this week – click here or the link below…

A Couple Of Gresham Lectures To Enhance My “Tudor Guitar” Knowledge, 17 January and 7 February 2018

…I looked up the programme for the Phantasm concert Janie and I are heading too later in the month at Wigmore Hall

…and spotted that the William Byrd specific concert would include “Though Amaryllis Dance In Green”. I remembered that song fondly as one of the first Tudor period songs I had heard and liked. I could even recall the tune and many of the words. I sought and found a simplified transcription of the music for lute on-line and decided that it would be a good example for me to work on with Ian Pittaway to further transcribe for solo voice and Tudor guitar.

On the day of the Gresham lecture, my mind began to wander (during the journey home after work I hasten to add, not during the lecture or work) about that song. I knew I still had a recording of it and would have kept notes on who was performing it.

It is extraordinary what memory can do. My mind latched on to that late 1980’s period and I was pretty sure I heard the music while I was getting ready for some professional exams.

I enjoyed a Saturday morning Radio 3 programme back then which played new releases and gave some interesting background on the recordings. But I also wanted to get my homework out of the way, so I tended to spool the radio show onto the trusty reel-to-reel and listen to it later in the day.

One week there had been a morning dedicated to early music and I remembered that some of the music had blown me away…

…to such an extent that I had edited that spool and preserved the recordings…

…then digitised it some 20 years or more later.

In fact, the recording that had really blown me away from that morning’s show was Josquin Des Prez and my records tell me that it was the Hilliard Ensemble.

That album is available digitally now – click here or the image of it below:

…and as I am promoting the material so flagrantly for the Hilliards…and have of course now bought a copy of the album for myself, assuaging my guilt for the home taping…I’ll guess they won’t mind that I have uploaded my rather worn-sounding track – the one that blew me away – Ave Maria:

It really is a lovely recording of the piece. I have heard several others since and (perhaps it’s me) but that Hilliard recording of it is something very special.

When I got home to find all this out, there was a really nice message waiting for me (us) on Facebook from Ros Elliot, an old friend of Janie’s who now lives in Turkey.  I recalled that Ros’s brother Paul used to sing with the Hillard Ensemble and of course, it transpired with a little e-digging, is indeed singing on that very album of Josquin music.

Also on that same old tape of mine, as I expected, was Though Amaryllis…which was also a recording by the Hilliard Ensemble. The Byrd was released the same year as the Josquin; 1987. Now available as part of a double-album of Byrd and Dowland…yes of course I procured this one too. Only available in CD form for now – click here or below:

So, given that the Hilliards got a sale and an advert out of me for this album too, I’m going to guess that they’ll be OK with the worn-sounding Though Amaryllis file going up for you to sample:

So then all I needed was my diary and the trusty BBC Genome project to resolve exactly when this introduction to Early Music happened.

It was 31 October 1987 – click here for BBC Genome listing…

…which yielded the next coincidence. The same broadcast had included Christopher Page with Gothic Voices singing, amongst other things, Ian Pittaway’s favorites Westron wynde and Hey nony nonyno. Clearly those didn’t make the cut on my edited tape. Perhaps I missed the start of the show…or perhaps those songs were too alien for my ears at that time.

It was a tumultuous time for many people, that month. We had the great storms a couple of weeks before (a “westron wynde” to remember)

...and then the markets upheaval a few days after that – not that markets affected poor apprentices like me and humbly retired folk like my parents.

My diary for 31 October 1987 simply says that I studied during the day and relaxed at home during the evening – much as I remembered it.

I also remember my dad not much caring for Ave Maria…on principle sort-of…going beyond the Ian Pittaway theory – click here for that – dad struggled with Christian sacred music generally…probably all sacred music really…

Oy vay, Maria?

…but dad did like the secular Josquin tracks very much; and the Byrd. Mum didn’t get early music at all. Chopin, Strauss (the waltz ones) and Tchaikovsky for her.

Momentous stuff in late 1987 – it really was the day that early music found me – and some wonderful coincidences in early 2018 while I found that momentous day again.

Rodgers & Hammerstein, For One Half Only, With Bobbie Scully, Theatre Royal Hanley, 2 September 1984

Richard and Oscar, unaware of how their work might be abused 40 years later

Sunday 2 September 1984 – a memorable evening at the theatre for all the wrong reasons. And let me be honest about this; it was my own darned fault.

Got up late -did nothing much all day – then went to dreadful show in Hanley. Walked out & had an Indian meal.

This debacle of an evening was at the Theatre Royal Hanley.

It happened like this.

The Theatre Royal Hanley wanted to encourage Keele University students to attend their theatre. They offered me a pair of free tickets to see any show I fancied over the summer. I was a new Student Union sabbatical and it was a new (or I should say revived) venue. I suppose they thought people like me might have some influence over the “yoof” audience.

I spotted what looked like quite an interesting play – with Tom Conti in it if I’m not mistaken, which I thought Bobbie and I would both enjoy when she was up for a long weekend at the end of August/start of September.

Problem was, I chose the Sunday evening (probably because we were otherwise engaged on both the Friday and Saturday evenings) and failed to check whether the Sunday evening show was the same show as the Monday to Saturday show.

It wasn’t.

You cannot blame the box office – they had been instructed to issue me with comps for whatever evening I chose…and I chose the Sunday evening.

The Life And Music Of Rodgers And Hammerstein. I am 95% sure that the show we saw was Hella Toros and her ensemble. A grande dame by 1984, widow of John McLaren, who had been in the original cast productions of Rodgers and Hammerstein shows in the 1950s…

…here’s how she looked and sounded in 1940, before sadness and illness struck her life for some while:

Correction: it wasn’t Helen Toros’s ensemble, it was the Newcastle Amateur Operatic Chorus. The following clipping from the Evening Sentinel confirms why/how I got the “They’re Playing Our Song” offer (Peta Toppano and Barry Quinn, not Tom Conti) confused with Rodgers and Hammerstein, plus confirms exactly who performed:

Rodgers & Hammerstein Evening SentinelRodgers & Hammerstein Evening Sentinel 01 Sep 1984, Sat Evening Sentinel (Stoke-on-Trent, Staffordshire, England) Newspapers.com

The Evening Sentinel doesn’t seem to have reviewed the show, but I found the following clip in the Lichfield Mercury – click here and see “Life Story In Song” article – which describes Toros’s half-a-dozen shows of similar type.

It was the most stilted show imaginable. Imagine a heavy European accent dramatically stating

Rodgers and Hammerstein, the most wonderful musicals in the whole world…

…I bet she said that about all the composers of such works in all of her shows…

…Ivor Novello – the most wonderful writer of musical shows in history…Sigmund Romberg, the most exquisite operettas ever written…

Between numbers, Hella gave us bits of her life story tentatively connected to Rodgers and Hammerstein. Her late husband’s involvement in the original stage productions of the musicals was bigged up to the extent that one might have imagined that John and Hella were round Oscar and Richard’s places all the time back in the 1950s.

In short, Bobbie and I had turned up at the theatre expecting to see “our sort of play” and found ourselves instead watching a static recital of songs from musicals, delivered in an exceptionally old-fashioned style.

The audience was almost as stilted as the performances. Not that everyone in the audience was about three times our age. Dear me no. Some of them were at least four times our age.

Bobbie and I didn’t know where to look. Actually we did…not at each other, lest the giggles get the better of us.

To be fair, we mostly won the struggle to keep straight faces for most of the first half of the recital…

…until the rather elderly and minimally mobile grande dame of the show, Hella Toros, attempted to sing Happy Talk with appropriate movements…lifted from the movie…

…our struggle with retaining our composure was lost. For good.

We felt we owed it to the audience, who were, after all, our elders and betters, to withdraw during the interval, ahead of the second half of the show, rather than inflict the inevitable giggly disturbances on the audience throughout the second half.

The exact nature of the Hanley-based Indian meal we devoured in place of the second half of the show is lost in the mists of time. It was probably quite good food and reasonably priced – there were some decent Indian restaurants in the Potteries by then.

This show was almost certainly not the only blot on the Theatre Royal Hanley’s choice of billing at that time. This link provides an excellent summary of the Theatre Royal Hanley’s less than special recent history. If anything ever happens to that history blog – and goodness knows the history it is recording is chequered enough – click here for a scrape thereof.

Is it possible that, but for my choice of night/wrong show error, I might have been able to influence the student body to frequent the Theatre Royal Hanley and helped turn around the disaster-prone institution? Unlikely.

On reflection, Bobbie & I probably shouldn’t go to any theatre with “Theatre Royal” in its name…I recall a peculiarly incident-rich visit to the Theatre Royal Haymarket with Bobbie to see Long Day’s Journey Into the Night. There’ll be a link here once I have written that one up.

A Top Notch Eclectic Compilation Tape From Forty Years Ago: Paul Deacon’s April 1984 Playlist

I absolutely loved this tape back in 1984. I ported most of it onto a couple of cassettes and it really was the sound track of my last few weeks as an undergraduate and graduand at Keele…and then the early part of my time there as a students’ union sabbatical.

Paul’s tapes were always an eclectic mix – this one is uber-eclectic, with new wave, ska, funk, soul-jazz and a heap of psychedelia all mixed in. I have really been enjoying revisiting it and racking up a high quality version of the old tape in digital form.

The playlist is on YouTube Music – click the picture above and enjoy.

I’m new to YouTube Music and the ability to save and share playlists through my premium YouTube subscription. I’d be interested to learn how friends experience it. I’m assuming that those of you who have YouTube Premium will simply be able to click through the image and enjoy the playlist in peace, whereas those of you who do not will receive constant reminders that YouTube Premium is a good idea and possibly be pestered with other ads too. I’d like to know.

I’m hoping this YouTube service is good enough for me to collate other such tapes into playlists and share them with those who like this sort of thing.

For those who like researching old manuscripts, here is the document from which I retrieved the full list. I have made the typed list also a clickable link to the playlist itself, just in case you missed the picture link above.

Dive down that rabbit hole and have a listen – you know you want to.

Thanks again for the tape, Paul. A gift that is still giving 40 years later.

Hitsville USA: The Story Of Motown, An Appointment To Listen At Keele January to March 1984

I had been taking an interest in Motown, Stax & Northern Soul music for a few years by the time the iconic BBC Radio series, Hitsville USA: The Story Of Motown, presented by Stuart Grundy, started in January 1984.

The diary is silent on’t, but the cassette recorder was not

I recorded the show every week, all but one on my trusty Grundig RR720, see image below and on this link, from Reverb, where you can try to buy such items.

The story of how this audio-beauty came into my possession is worthy of a piece in its own right. But in short, Ashley wanted to buy an Amstrad “all in one” thingie and offered me his Grundig RR720 for a ludicrously low price in order to raise the last few quid he needed to secure his purchase. I negotiated the price up for him as I couldn’t in all conscience buy the item for the price he quoted. I think the offer price was £12 and the strike price £20.

I continued to use and get pleasure from the RR720 for some 25 years, until its increasing hiss-noise and obsolete look condemned it around 2007 or 2008.

Anyway…

…my habit, most weeks, was to go into Newcastle shopping after listening to and taping this programme on a Saturday. I think it very unlikely that I got much if any work done before the lunchtime broadcast. I probably ate lunch (or some might argue brunch) while listening.

I note that Episode 5 was when Jilly was visiting at the end of an action-packed week:

I recall “making” Jilly listen to that episode, arranging our tour of Keele around the Motown programme time. Jilly became quite engaged with the subject after 30 minutes in the masterful hands of Stuart Grundy’s documentary and clips. I’m pretty sure that is where the idea of “The Lesson Tapes” that I made for Jilly started, as she confessed knowing next to nothing about that sort of music, classical music student that she was.

I recorded Week 10 at my parents house while decompressing and getting a little bit of work done there late March:

I remember discussing the series with Paul Deacon when I saw him that evening. Were you already working for the BBC Music Library at that time, Paul, or did that come later?

One or two of the cassettes that I made back then didn’t make it through the decades. I did scrape them all onto reel-to-reel at the time and those spools might still work…although they will be decaying (or already decayed) in storage. But none of that sort of thing matters any more, because a few clicks in the direction of the Internet Archive finds the very thing – all episodes neatly digitised and set out, Items 4 to 14 inclusive, through this link or the picture link below:

There are far worse things that you could do than listen to them all “in a podcast stylee”, as I think it is as good an audio documentary about Motown has yet to be made.

For me it brings back memories of when I should have been finishing my assignments and revising, but was still fiddling around with music and socialising and grub instead. A process I continued for many weeks after this series ended:

A Kitcheware-Oriented Week At Keele: From Prefab Sprout To Beansprouts, Late November to Early December 1983

The wok and rice cooker depicted are 21st century, but the booklets are 1983

My self-education in the matter of producing decent-quality Chinese food in my own (or should I say Barnes L54) kitchen took great strides forward as 1983 progressed.

I bought the Sharwoods leaflets depicted above at some point that year. I cannot remember which shop “took on” Sharwoods displays with these booklets sold cheap but the Sharwoods ingredients depicted within them sold dear. Was it Sainsbury’s in Newcastle-Under-Lyme? Or was it Kermase, the sort-of wholefood store, sort-of rice-and-spice deli? Or was it some other shop with delusions of grandeur that popped up and then disappeared, because grandeur and Newcastle-Under-Lyme don’t really go together?

Anyway, I treasured those little booklets and the techniques/ideas I gleaned from them. I still delve into them occasionally. But I soon tired of the high prices and small bottles of the Sharwoods range – for me the occasional trip to Chinatown in London to gather large bottles of the requisite sauces and packets of dried noodles at sensible student prices. Fresh won-ton wrappers too, once I’d worked out what to put inside them, as described last time…

The other staple substitute which I used in most of my recipes – certainly the stir-fry ones, was beansprouts. These were available in large packets at a very low price in Sainsbury’s. If you knew what you were doing (i.e. just blanch them or toss them into a stir fry right at the end of cooking) they were tasty, nutritious, went a long way and seemed quintessentially Chinese to us at the time, because Chinese restaurants used them.

I shall write up some of my “Keele Barnes L54” recipes in the fullness of time. This week there’s plenty else to write about.

Here’s the diary for the week:

My pattern well set, I love the radical candour of my Tuesday diary entry:

Tried to do loads today – failed.

Forty years on, despite me being older and allegedly wiser now, I can assure readers that I still often have days like that.

I have previously written up the wonderful evening of music that was the Kitchenware Package, which included Hurrah! The Daintees and to top it all Prefab Sprout. I wrote that concert up several years ago, for reasons explained in the following piece, so some readers following “Forty Years On” might have missed the write up – linked here and below:

One element of the Thursday diary entry is baffling me:

Thursday 1 December 1983: Busy day – union stuff etc. Cooked a meal for Viv [Robinson] – went to {Scarves?…Barnes??} with Kate – to Bobbie’s after.

The meal might well have been one of those Chinese meals at that time. It is also quite possible that my flatmate, Alan Gorman, would have participated in that meal. Alan, Bobbie Scully and (to a lesser extent) Viv were guinea-pigs for my Chinese cooking. More on that anon.

But where did we go with Kate and which Kate was this? My first thought was that the word is Barnes, but it makes no sense to go to Barnes after eating in Barnes, unless I meant to write a more specific address within Barnes and missed out a detail. Was there even a place called Scarves or similar for that word to be. Let’s zoom in on that entry:

Perhaps the hive mind of Keele alums can do better with that appalling scribble than my own addled mind is managing.

But a further mystery – which Kate is this? I don’t recall getting to know Kate Fricker as early as that in the 83/84 year, but maybe I did. She might have been friendly with Viv already by then and Viv might have been grooming her for greater things in the Union by early December. Kate might have been Catherine Emerson (now Cathy Butcher), of course whom we called Kate at that time. Cathy will remember I’m sure…not. I can only ask.

Friday 2 December – …Bobbie’s – saw film in Square – stayed there.

I’m trying to recall what “Square” was. I remember a place known as the Hexagon in Lindsay? Did it shed a couple sides and become “Square” in 1983? Or was Square some other place. The fact that I say “stayed there” and Bobbie was very much a Lindsay person (K Block unless I am much mistaken) makes The Square a Lindsay place. I don’t recall seeing films there but the diary says so. Again others might recall these places and events better than me.

Saturday 3 December – …shopped etc – went Asian do in early eve -> union with Bobbie – stayed there for some time.

“Asian do” was probably Chinese Cultural Society although it might have combined forces with some other cultural groups for a pan-Asian do. I recall that Bobbie had a good friend, May Lamb if I remember her name correctly, who went out with Tony Wong, who was a doyen of the Chinese Cultural Society. May’s family ran a Chinese Restaurant in, I think, Hartlepool.

I wonder what those two would have thought of my Chinese cooking? I don’t think I ever had the courage to try it out on them.

Hope sprouts eternal. Photo by Hyeon-Jeong Suk, CC BY 2.0

Postscript

Dave Masten Rosen chimed in on Facebook, riffing with me about “Lee Ho Fooks” and Werewolves Of London. In fact I had mentioned Lee Ho Fook No 2 only a few months earlier:

…but without the associated reference to that amazing song, which is presumably about the then main Lee Ho Fook in Gerard Street.

It then occurred to me that “beef chow mein” was one of my regular dishes to cook in the Keele days, although I often substituted chicken. Of course, the recipe is in that little Sharwoods booklet. Here’s the relevant page, as a closing image. You should be able to read the recipe if you look closely enough.

Kitchenware Package: Prefab Sprout, The Daintees & Hurrah!, University of Keele Students Union, 30 November 1983

Image borrowed from this Discogs entry

I recall being very excited when I learned that Bev Howarth had arranged for a Kitchenware Package gig at Keele that autumn.

In the autumn of 1983, all I knew about Kitchenware Records was:

  • The New Musical Express (NME) was getting very excited about that label…and the NME was the Bible;
  • I had two Kitchenware tracks on an NME sampler cassette, Mad Mix II, namely Small Town Creed by The Kane Gang and Lions In My Own Garden by Prefab Sprout.

My diary entry for 30 November is brief but precise:

Busyish day – union and work – went to see Kitchenware package in eve – B came back

B is Bobbie – we’d been seeing each other for a few weeks by then. My guess is that I dragged her to this gig on a “you’ve got to see…” basis. I’ll ask her if she remembers anything about it.

I remember that the package had been billed as “The Kane Gang plus Prefab Sprout plus…[either The Daintees or Hurrah!]”. But on the day it was Prefab Sprout plus The Daintees plus Hurrah! I was very disappointed not to see The Kane Gang.

I remember all three bands being very good, but Prefab Sprout was the standout for me, not least because of the variety in their material.

The Daintees have a full setlist up for this gig – click here.

Hurrah! lists the gig but not the set.

Prefab Sprout’s gigography doesn’t list this gig at the time of writing (September 2019) – I’ll send them a heads up on it – there are several Kitchenware gigs listed around that time and I guess this one was missed.

Almost certainly the Prefab Sprout set was the same or very similar to one a week later in Liverpool – click here.

Parenthetically, I remember Truda Smith Immediate past president) at that gig irritatingly referring to Prefab Sprout as “The Brussel Sprouts” repeatedly, which she seemed to think was very funny…it wasn’t.

I’m hoping this Ogblog piece willbe bulked up with other people’s recollections, so I shall be shouting out to the Keele alums and Kitcheware aficionados. We’ll see.

I was motivated to write this concert up as a result of one of King Cricket’s conversation pieces with his mate, Prince Prefab, who turns out to be a massive Prefab Sprout fan – click here or below:

When I informed Prince Prefab that I had seen Prefab Sprout “back in the day”, he said:

I would have given a portion of a left testicle to have seen them live. Also love that you saw a Kitchenware records bill.

Interestingly, Prince Prefab doesn’t say whose left testicle he would be prepared to sacrifice for Prefab Sprout.

Doing Stuff In The Keele Students’ Union, An Anarchist Bonfire, The Fall Supported By The Stockholm Monsters and Partying In A High-Falutin’ Place, Mid November 1983

Ticket image borrowed from The Fall Gigography

It’s hard to imagine a week getting more exciting after the “Truda Smith incident” on the Monday, reported last time…

…and indeed the rest of that week has little worthy of report in it.

Union Stuff

The diary suggests a fairly settled pattern of work, spending time with Bobbie and spending time in the Union, mostly around elections and such matters. The Chair of Constitutional Committee also chaired Election Appeals Committee and it seems there were elections that week.

I found a stray voting slip some years ago, when rummaging through a file for something else – it might well have been for the election that week.

The other thing that is clear from my diary that week is that I became good friends with Vivian Robinson around that time. She was SU Secretary (and therefore also returning officer) that year – so we were thrown together ex officio in terms of running elections.

Fortunately we got on well and I think the elections that year ran smoothly – even the one that I ran in…just about. Viv and I remained friends after Keele, not least when she lived on Bedford Hill in the late 1980s, about 10 minutes walk from my parents house. Watch this space for future tales.

Anyway, that week, it seems, Viv cooked me dinner one night and I made her lunch a couple of days later.

Anarchist Bonfire Party, 11 November 1983

I like the reference to going to an “anarchist bonfire party” after dinner with Viv on 11 November. Ashley and/or Sally Hyman might remember some details about that event, but I must admit I don’t remember much about it.

Perhaps it was part of a trend at that time to perceive Guy Fawkes as a radical hero, which, frankly, he wasn’t. Or perhaps it was more an excuse to have a bonfire party a week or so after the conventional Guy-effigy-burning occasion and avoid the unpleasant connotations of all that, by simply having a lively bonfire party, which I’m sure it was.

The Anarchist Bonfire Party won’t have looked like this

The Fall Supported By the Stockholm Monsters, 16 November 1983

This was a pretty memorable Keele gig in my book, as much for the buzz there was around The Fall at that time as the sound itself, which was only sort-of to my taste.

The Stockholm Monsters were a more than half-decent support act, well suited to support The Fall. In 1983 they sounded like this:

The Fall appeared on The Tube just over a week after our Keele gig. Their set on The Tube looked like this:

Andrea’s Party At Bushy House, 19/20 November 1983

By the end of that week I was writing in red ink, reporting on a trip to London. I love the fact that I note that I had a haircut on the Saturday morning. I’m guessing that my mum would have strongly suggested I needed a haircut, probably because of the location of the party I was going to that night.

My friend Andrea Dean was living in Bushy House, Teddington at that time. Her father had become Director of the National Physical Laboratory and a rather sprauncy apartment came with that job.

Andrea c1979

Bushy House is a former residence of King William IV, although I suspect he made use of the whole house.

I remember more than one entertaining party/gathering at Bushy House when it was Andrea’s place. This November 1983 one was especially memorable.

…And Forty Years On?

I rather like the juxtaposition of an anarchist bonfire party one weekend and a party in a formerly royal residence the next in November 1983.

Forty years on, both of those parties were good training for the week that I have just been through: