PINK CIGAR

Bedford Esquires 10-9-11

Why, gadzooks, shiver me timbers & stap me vitals!
 'Twas indeed a double bonus for your genial host & the breadknife this fair eve. 2 of the finest bands on the planet were appearing in the same room on the same night for the 2nd time this year. Oh lucky us!
Afore I go any further my dears, please feel free to download & use any of the shots on here (if they're considered any good). Just give me a namecheck hither & thither.
 Once again the fannerific Pink Cigar were on the same bill as the Heavy Metal Kids. Heaven!
 As these fine fellas were supporting the kids, their set was cut considerably shorter than normal, but boy did they make it count.

Kicking off with out & out rocker 'Ladykiller', the boys went forward with relentless pace. Ignoring the fact that the venue was so sparsely populated (& then some) such is their degree of professionalism; they played it like they were playing to a packed auditorium.
 2nd up was the newie that I'd been banging on about 'Blues to bed', such fantastic songwriting from such a young band. The future can only be rosy!
The atmospheric 'Strange' was followed by 'King of the world'. Awesome! 'This girl', 'Gypsy', 'Gen Nxt' & 'Throat' closed the set. Please excuse the abbreviation, but I'm reading from a snaffled setlist & the last  4 tunes are not songs I'm over familiar with, but it doesn't take Albert Einstein to work out that everyone's a classic in the making.

Now Sid the drummer was sporting a rather fetching Pink Cigar t-shirt (Flash Tightpocket enters ultra green with envy mode). Apparently it was a one-off, aaarrrrghh! I did offer him sufficient funding for said item but was politely declined. Hey your loss Sid, I was packing a whole twenty seven new pence & a weasels egg.
 Seriously though boys, when do we get to lay our hands on some serious Pink Cigar merchandise? Madame Tightpocket & me are positively salivating at the prospect.

My dears, please take heed, for here is knowledge. We have here 4 individual, talented characters: Sam, the dynamic, athletic bass player, Ed, distinctive guitar hero in the making, (I'm sure I saw him finger plucking) he also has the frayed good looks of every great rock star who ever existed, Sid, solid dependable powerhouse of a drummer; the backbone. Last but by no means least is Sharkie, vocalist with a husky, smoky voicebox par-excellence. This cat has bags of attitude a'la Jagger a'la Rotten & dare I say it, perhaps a touch of the great Andrew Matheson. Put together all these attributes & you have the makings of a very heady & intoxicating brew indeed.

 What I'm trying to say my dears, is this band are destined to be bloody huge. Bands as good as this come around once every blue moon, so listen to the ramblings of an old coffin dodger & get yourself along to witness them firsthand, you will not be disappointed. 
 They're already megastars it's just that a few million people don't know it YET!

Chin Chin.

THE VAYNES/DEAD VAYNES

Ahh, there you are my sweet little cherubims. Come hither & tarry awhile. Indulge thou goodselves for a moment or two with thine old friend & dodgy snapper; Herr Tightpocket. For inside the dark walls of this sacred blog lurks many a secret & a story untold, of deeds debauched like none other. 

 By the time this tale has unfolded, you will feel unclean, unkempt & it will appear to you, that you have the aura & stench of a rancid polecat. 
Inspired from previous posts by top blogger, 'Nuzz prowling wolf'. It came to my attention that in all the times I saw this band, (for they were bountiful) I never once took a camera to record the event. What a damn fool.

  These fine fellows first came to my attention at the Leeds Warehouse sometime in 84, when, in one of their earliest shows, they supported a Waldo-less, Johnny Thunders & the Heartbreakers.
 'Twas indeed an epiphany for your genial host, for they were raw beyond belief, they had a stage presence like none other & a certain 'je ne sais quoi'; that indefinable quality which set them apart from the other unworthy pretenders. With their eyes as wide as the finest bone china dinner plates, they were indeed, wired beyond belief. A heady brew & righteous stuff indeed.

 I attended the aforementioned show with a good friend of mine & we must have looked like Beavis & Butthead as we stood like statues, eyes & mouths agog & salivating as we absorbed this delightful, aural & visual onslaught. Later in the evening my pal plucked up the courage to attempt a chat with one of them. (I can't remember which one). ''Hey fellas, great show, where do you come from?'' quoth he, ''FUCK KNOWS'' came his response. Your host was on his neck with hysterical laughter. 

 For here indeed was a band truly worthy of our affections.
  I was truly hooked & went to see 'em on countless occasions after this. Every show gave a full on intense performance, irrespective of what & how many chemicals they had ingested. 
 1985 saw the release of their first album, with Mick Vayne playing James Williamson to Stevies Iggy Stooge.
 Oh baby, we were smitten. Never before had the urgency & belligerence of a bands live performance been transferred so well onto vinyl. The sleaze & grime just oozes, throbs & pounds from the speakers.
 At this particular period in time, the mainstay of British rock'n'roll was regarded to be the Marquee club in London, but we in the North did beg to differ. For we had the 'Duchess of York' in Leeds & moreover we had the 'Dead Vaynes'.  Never before had I seen a band exude so much danger on stage.
 Over the next couple of years they hit upon what I call their golden period. With a change of name to the 'Vaynes' & a  steady line-up of Stevie Vayne on vocals, Mick Vayne-guitar, Jessica James-bass, Nev-drums & Gerry Famous on guitar, they released a string of 12" eps' which began to show great versatility in their songwriting.

The self explanatory MR FIXIT.

They also started picking up high ranking support slots with the likes of Rose of avalanche et-al. The moment I knew these cats were no longer a small fish in a big pond was when they supported Gaye bikers on acid & the bomb party at the old Leeds poly & completely blew away the opposition. Commanding the stage like battle hardened veterans.
This is for ''Anonyme'' who claimed on 'Sons of the Dolls' how he didn't care how many live shows were ruined by the bands drug habits. Well let me tell you my dear fellow, never once did I see a live show ruined by this band, it just merely added to the spectacle. It's funny how you remember the smaller, less significant things. Like the time Stevie came on stage dressed in nothing but a see through body stocking,or the time he tried to get the whole band to do impromptu solos on their respective instruments. When Jessica the bass player refused, I'll always remember him telling their manager 'it's either her or me', immediately after the show. However by, the next gig the usual harmony had been restored.
Prior to the release of their 12" ep, Rock'n'roll crime, it was originally titled 'Rock'n'roll christ'. I'll never forget the look of shock on the other punters faces when the band came on to the intro tape of Jesus christ superstar, Stevie stood centre stage amid the spotlight glow with his arms outstretched a'la J.C.
 Jerry Famous was a mild mannered unasuming quiet fellow & I guess he needed all his energy to support that wild looking behemoth of an instrument of his. (Ooooh matron!). For he had a home made guitar, made of STEEL!. Yup, that's right my dears, STEEL. You could see the spot weld marks. It weighed in at around a stonne in weight. The feedback problems from that beastie must have been horrendous.

I'll never forget bunking off work one thursday afternoon & going into Leeds for a steady pint or two & then bumping into Stevie. We had a drink in nearly every pub. I don't remember leaving Leeds, the first thing I do recall was waking up at my parents house the following day having missed another shift & shaking like a shitting dog. Great days.
 1988 saw the release of the Big Cities ep. Another true pop classic, it has a middle 8 which sees our hero Stevie summing matters up; (meanwhile, down some, sleazy nightclub, the Vaynes were, doing the business, y'know .. .. .. ROCK'N'ROOOOll !!)  Never before have you heard those words bellowed forth with such passion, venom & anger. Only Stevie Vayne & the late great Gary Holton have managed to move me in such a way. 
1989 gave us the album Vayneglorious, full to the brim of punk, pop, rock'n'roll classics. God this album deserved to sell by the wagonload. If ever a band deserved to be mammoth, here they were, but by god it wasn't for the want of effort, they must have been one of the most hard working bands on the planet. which only adds fuel to the theory that there really is no justice in this world.

Please, dear reader, don't just take my word for it. Have a listen for yourself. For top blogger 'Nuzz prowling wolf ' has made all these recordings available for your delectation. So go & check 'em out at  http://nuzzprowlinwolf.blogspot.com/search/label/The%20Vaynes
They're all vinyl rips & sound all the better for it. It's akin to listening to really old blues recordings for you can hear the vinyl crackle. Just like listening to ghosts baby.
Go on my fluffy little cherubs, you know it makes sense.

 The last time I bumped into Stevie was at a Leeds United pre-season friendly at Huddersfield, probably sometime around the year 2000. As fate would have it, he was sat directly in front of me. He looked fit, well, healthy & was living happily in New York. Good for you matey! I haven't a clue as to his whereabouts or what he's doing these days. All I can say is live long & prosper Stevie, you deserve it.
 If anyone out there has any decent live shots of this band, which they wouldn't mind sharing on this blog, I would be eternally grateful. Please e-mail me at   shogs1815@live.co.uk  for I was far too drunk & foolish to have taken a camera to any of their shows. 

Boys & girls, I give you; THE VAYNES. 
 Whatever path they have chosen & wherever they may be; God love 'em all.
Chin chin.

HEAVY METAL KIDS.

Bedford Esquires: 10-9-11

 Greetings my dears & welcome to yet another post on the Heavy metal kids. Hey, you can't have too much of a good thing. 
 Alas, I'm going to have to keep the write up of this show very brief indeed (some may say this is a good thing) as Madame Tightpocket & myself are readying ourselves to jet off to sunnier climes with my 13 year old, wallet draining skateboarder, so time is of the essence.

 'Twas a sin & a shame that this show was so sparseley populated. Maybe this was due to the fact that Adam Ant was playing a show just up the road. (There's no accounting for some folks taste). Shame on you my dears, for you did indeed miss one of the finest shows I've seen yet, from this incarnation of the H.M.K.

The sound out front was pretty damn flawless & I have to say Justins voice goes from strength to strength. Tonights show was the best I've heard him yet. Everyone of the Kids delivered tonight. Ronnie especially delivered with interest, as we were treated to some of his bad jokes & tales of serial killers. Keith & Cosmo, masters of their craft & true technicians. The only blip of the evening, coming when Justins severed head landed in Keiths lap. What I'd like to know is, where does he hide all the bodies?

Aaah yes, the severed head, the silent member of the band. During 'the cops are coming' our Justin did indeed indulge himself in some serious abuse of this poor fella. By the way, does the head have a name? We have a right to know.

Glad this guy's not dating my mum.

Boys & girls, we live in an age where money is scarce & we're supposed to be in the middle of a recession. Yet people can find the hundreds of pounds to see bloated self indulgent acts in massive stadia where all they can really see is their heroes on a big screen. Do yourselves a favour my little cherubs. Next time the H.M.K are playing a town near you, pay the paltry few quid it costs to get in & witness a real close quarters rock'n'roll show with the emphasis on F.U.N. they're all absolute gentlemen & are completely approachable with a wealth of stories to tell. If the drummer can fly from Toulouse for every gig, I'm sure the most of us can make it through our front door & down the road to see 'em. If you're feeling flush, buy 'em a pint. Go on, you know it makes sense.

Should you happen to see a real salad dodger taking photographs, with a stunning wife at these shows, then please remember that he drinks lager.
The Heavy Metal Kids. We Bloody Love 'em!

As ever me old shipmates, please feel free to download, use & abuse any of these shots. 
 Me? I must be off. I've got a plane to catch.

Chin chin my dears. See you in a little while.