Actually (warning - reviewer going off on a tangent - awooga - awooga - this is not a daffodil) it happens quite regularly. The Office, for example. Pile of pants. I was the only person in the country who dared say it in 2001; now they're queueing up behind me. Likewise Little Britain and Catherine Tate; alright for a single sketch, but you can't - scratch that - you shouldn't build a whole series on the back of a single joke. Castles made of sand slip into the sea, to quote a certain dead guitarist (a pint for the first person to come up with the tenuous link to Jagged Edge. No Googling!)
Oh yeah, Jagged Edge. That's what we're here for, not my deconstruction of the British comedy scene (that Chris Morris - thinks he's clever. He's not. He's not funny either.)
Where was I? A small minority, that's right, because I rather liked the Rochdale Transport place; liked the cosiness and the rather laid-back ambience. It was a bit like a low-budget cruise. I know I'd rather listen to Dann than Celine bloody Dion if my ship was going down. Hell, I'd rather listen to Monty than Celine Dion.
Focus, Tommy.
This week it's another place we've heard about but never visited, the Barnsley Trades Club. This is more likely to appeal to you big venue lovers because it's a big space with a big stage and a bloody big crowd. Biggest I've seen in a long time, in fact. Maybe Rochdale needs to reconsider its pricing policy - it was a pound to get in here and, although there might not have been seven times as many people (though I wouldn't be surprised if there were), I'm sure the bar takings more than made up for that.
One other thing that's "big" is the sound - no geometry problems this week and the guys on the desk do a cracking job to get a really good balance which isn't ruined by the odd strange snap, crackle and pop.
This is a fun show. Right from the start Big Dave is bouncing about like he's forgotten to take his ritalin; he's back and forth across the stage all night.
Oh, best performance of Blue Collar Man to date.
I'm sweating buckets by the end of Uncomfortable Bum - Dann's coda is that good.
The interval music features 747 by Barnsley's own Saxon, the mighty UFO doing Only You Can Rock Me and Rainbow's Stargazer, any of which would be a welcome addition to the Jaggie playlist. We also get an apology from the club chairman for his behaviour and language last week (remember this, it's important later).
The second half is another Journey-laden set, this time with added Faithfully (cheers, DB!) during which I get an unaccustomed view of proceedings as Linda drags me onto the dance floor. Now, I've filled a column inch or forty on here with my judgement of others' (lack of) dancing ability, so if anyone wishes to critique my two left feet, then feel free.
Both Whitesnake tracks get an airing (another back catalogue ripe for picking; Fool for Your Loving is a bit obvious, what about Guilty of Love or Slow and Easy? I'm sure Big Dave would deliver an awesome Still of the Night)
The dancefloor bounces throughout the closing Jovi fest then Dann makes his Axis sing - fantastic Adagio.
Big Dave finally gets to burn off some of that energy (though being careful with the voice) and the show's in the can.
Oh no it isn't.
They're a demanding audience in Barnsley; not one but two encores, the latter of which is accompanied by the first recorded waltz headbang in history as one couple manage to somehow combine smooching and moshing. Later, as they're leaving, the chairman (told you he was important) launches into a stream of obscenities which would make Gordon Ramsay blush. I've no idea what the poor lass did to deserve it, but I trust he'll be making another apology next week.
Barnsley - odd place, great show. We'll be back.
Of course, the night was just too exciting for some…
