Jagged Edge - Rochdale Transport Club - August 2008

Best laid plans and all that... Seems that Blackpool's Whitefire have called it a day before I got the chance to see them.

Anyway, just a few brief comments because this was simply a thoroughly enjoyable show by a bunch of lads who looked to be ready for the well-deserved break they are now taking.

A considerably bigger crowd for this, our second, visit to Rochdale Transport Club. Bigger crowd and smaller PA (this is becoming a theme this summer) which gave a great sound in the oddly-shaped room.

The first set followed the customary playlist; highlights were Blue Collar Man, Every Rose Has Its Thorn (with local boy Carl guesting again) and Comfortably Numb.

The second set kept the dancefloor rocking, with all the usual G'n'R, Bon Jovi, etc being augmented by Whitesnake (...Love Tonight) and Van Halen. Now, the Transport Club building is probably close to a hundred years old and it was probably built to withstand some serious abuse, but some of those Rochdale lads'n'lasses really shouldn't have been encouraged to Jump.

Big Dave (who'd been even more animated than usual throughout) brought normal proceedings to a close in his own inimitable manner then we were treated to (the always welcome) Girl Can't Help It as a bonus.

Enjoy the sabbatical, guys - you've earned it.











This is the voice of the Mysterons...


Who ya gonna call...?

Jagged Edge - Riffs, Blackpool - August 2008

We didn't know it but, back in the much-maligned eighties, we were spoilt rotten.

In the days before 24 hour music television, the big bands recorded an album a year then toured - really toured - so we unwashed masses could see our gods in the flesh. It was the only way for them to stay in the spotlight; rock fans have always been fickle.

Looking back to calendar year 1984 (end of high school/start of college), I reckon I saw; (deep breath) The Scorpions (with Mama's Boys supporting), Gary Moore, Whitesnake, Thompson Twins, Ultravox, OMD, Iron Maiden (with Waysted), Dio (with Queensryche), Kiss (with Bon Jovi), Big Country (at least twice), Duran Duran, Malmsteen's Rising Force (that might've been '85) and Hanoi Rocks. The most expensive ticket was Kiss at £8; I think Hanoi was a couple of quid on the door.

In and among these big shows, though, were the Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights spent at The Heathery Bar, The Dial Inn, The Mayfair, The Howff, various students' unions and dozens of other pubs and clubs hosting a most vibrant local music scene; The Dolphins (the finest band who never made it), Glasgow (named for their home city because "it's good enough for Chicago or Boston"), Zero Zero (whose least talented member, Andy McCafferty, changed his name to Tantrum and went on to play guitar in the Almighty), Heavy Pettin' (Scotland's Def Leppard, until some muppet promoter talked them into entering Eurovision) or Chasar (a heavily Rush-influenced power trio with the biggest - I'm talking size of individuals here - following I've ever seen; not one of them under 6 foot).

So what if my memories are from Lanarkshire and the west of Scotland? Barrow, Huddersfield and Bradford would have had their equivalent (OK, maybe not Barrow); take a moment to wallow in your own nostalgia...




Feels nice, doesn't it?

OK, there is a point to this (apart from me namedropping all the rather cool bands I got to see, even if OMD were well past their best) and that is that we simply don't have the wealth of places for bands to play these days. The money men tied up acts and venues alike many moons ago, so it feels bad to criticise a new place, especially a rock-friendly one, but...

Naughty, naughty, very naughty. To advertise a support band - on the door, on the night - when you know perfectly well that they're a no-show - is just rude. Especially when they sound as good as Whitefire do on their MySpace page. I was rather looking forward to seeing them; not to an "I'd go to Blackpool specially" extent, but I'll certainly be keeping an eye open for them appearing on this side of t'hill.

Apparently, Riffs don't employ cleaners, either. The boys' last appearance there resulted in numerous complaints about muck being dislodged from the ceiling into glasses, so this performance is an adventure in lo-fi; Jagged Edge on a house PA, no fancy flashing lights, no annoying flashing laser; just The Rock.

Let's smell what it's cookin'...

Without the distractions, I'm immersed in the sound. The mix is fantastic; swirling keys and wailing guitars twist and turn around the solid rhythm; vocals are perfectly blended; DB will hate me for saying it, but this sound is up there with the very best presentations with the full kit. Only a slightly muddy bass and some spurious feedback let it down.

Runaway trips over itself in the closing bars so we get a rather ramshackle improvised ending; ...Miss a Thing has rarely sounded so chilled; Boston, Styx and Thunder are effortless, Comfortably Numb is possibly the best it has ever sounded; all the more surprising, then, when we learn that Dann can't hear a thing onstage.

Opening part two, Big Dave teases us by introducing Asia's Don't Cry but the song (sadly) doesn't get an airing ( I hope the rest of the band are listening to the big man's new song suggestions). The set is, instead, fairly standard with Jo making her usual appearance in front of her home audience, Don't Stop Believing and the Bon Jovi double providing the singalong soundtrack and All Right Now and Rock'n'Roll filling the dancefloor; the audience becoming more animated as the night draws to a close.

Dann's solo highlights just how good the sound is; every single note is crystal clear; watching the slowly encroaching crowd gather around him brings back school memories; fight! fight! fight!

As I noted previously when we visited the Royal Oak, the Blackpool crowd enjoy their music and show their appreciation; it's a shame that Riffs doesn't have the same respect for its punters.

The rather feeble house spotlights didn't make for great photography, either;

Jagged Edge - Rock Cafe - July 2008

I think it's fairly well documented that the Rock Cafe isn't my favourite venue, but our most recent visit started promisingly with a much-reduced PA; maybe it wouldn't be as ear-splittingly loud as usual.

DB's tired, Dann's voice is in doubt; there must be a good case for the band to take a proper break – it's only rock'n'roll, after all.

Our understanding of DB's psyche; as revealed by his iPod; was furthered in an interesting direction. MSG followed by Gary Numan? Kiss by Leif Garrett???

Remembering the 70s disco heart-throb knocked me right off kilter, I must admit, but it turns out he's lived the regular fallen star lifestyle and is a hopeless junkie these days as this mugshot from his bust for heroin possession proves;



He's only forty-something, y'know. Drugs is baaaad, kids.

Anyway, the boys gave a knockout performance on Thursday; the Journey/Jovi/Aerosmith trio sounded fantastic and the first set included REO, Styx and Boston to scratch my AOR itch good and proper. The sound had deteriorated a bit by the time Comfortably Numb came around, but it was still an order of magnitude better than normal for the Cafe.

The sound was sorted out for the start of part two and the second set featured wee Jo on Sweet Child... and an unexpectedly loud guest on ...Bad Name. The highlight of the night, though, was big Dave's encore spot – the big man was rock'n'roll personified; a blistering performance.

Throw in Bed of Roses as a bonus and the night's easily the best we've had at the venue.









Loudest ever crowd participant;



At least one former teen heart-throb has aged a bit better than Leif;

Jagged Edge - Broad Oak - July 2008

Independence day. America is, what, 232 years old this year? And still acting like a spoilt brat playground bully? They need to shift their fat arses along to a Jagged Edge gig or two; learn to relax. Maybe we could get Osama along, too; they could all have a beer together and debate whether Whitesnake counts as "heavy" or not.

I'm wandering again, aren't I?

Over the last few years I've missed a fair number of gigs because of prior commitments -
2005 Styx (away on business), Dio (performing Holy Diver in its entirety, no less - holiday)
2006 Journey (Augeri - holiday)
2007 Journey (JSS - business), Marcus Brigstocke at the LBT (holiday)

Last week takes some beating, though; Def Leppard. Whitesnake. Journey (Pineda).

What a week to fly to the Canaries.

Ah well; if I'd taken the punt on tickets for Saturday's Harewood House show we'd have missed it anyway thanks to flight delay; just need to make do with this outdoor event...

The Jaggies' last attempt at playing Broad Oak fell foul of the weather and it looked - as late as Thursday - like this one might go the same way. Thankfully, the God of Rock smiled upon his chosen ones and Linthwaite partied all night long.

The sound was a bit weedy in the first half with the vocal delay being lost to the slowly-darkening night sky, but that didn't detract from a set chosen to be recognisable to the large contingent of younger attendees. The assorted hoodies, ladettes and other "bangin' tunes" afficianados sang along with the ones they knew (Bon Jovi, Aerosmith, Thunder) and politely ignored the ones they didn't (pretty much everything else, including a fantastic rendition of More Than A Feeling).

Quote of the night came from a skinny, pasty-white, red haired lad in an England trackie top who spoke like Ali G (honestly, you couldn't make this stuff up); "That guitar guy's wicked, man".

The sound came together much better in the second set; Alex Mullen joined the band for a cracking run-through of Bad Company's Can't Get Enough, we had The Sweet, Journey, Guns'n'Roses and Bon Jovi before "that guitar guy" defied the plummeting temperature to deliver a stunning solo spot.

Adagio just sounds better in the open air, somehow.

The encores pushed the show right up to the midnight curfew. Great show.

For trailer trash.


Trailer trash.


Where's my crowd?


We're over heee-eere!


It's all gone a bit Eye of the Tiger


Listen closely and you can hear this photo


Alex'n'Dave


Tubthumpin'


Psychedelic


What does this button do?


Michael Bolton moment


Plugging the website. This guy's a closet Big Brother viewer, y'know...

Blue Oyster Cult - Holmfirth - June 2008

The Picturedrome's a bit busier than for a Jaggies show which makes sense when we discover that there are people here from as far afield as Oxford.

One thing's for sure, they're not here to see support act Richard R Black - a three-piece who have been listening to too much Ufucking2; all single-note guitar solos and over-emoted vocals. Actually, that's not fair - RRB got a good reception from the crowd, I just can't imagine anyone travelling further than, say, next door to see them headline.

Change-over is quick and Holmfirth welcomes, well, the smallest band in the world. First onstage is a short, tubby bloke - a bit scruffy and carrying a rucksack. He doesn't really look like a suicide bomber, but this is Holmfirth so it's a relief when he sets himself up at the keyboards and we realise it's Richie Castellano.

He's joined by guest bassist Danny Miranda, drummer Jules Radino and the two "main men", Buck Dharma and Eric Bloom. Only Miranda seems to be taller than Monty (who's doing the lights). To be brutally honest, this doesn't look like a 14-million-selling rock band - it looks like their roadies.

Opener This Ain't the Summer of Love gets the crowd up and going and is followed by Cities on Flame With Rock and Roll, Stairway to the Stars, Career of Evil and a handful of tracks I'm not familiar with (actually, I was surprised at how many I did recognise, not being a "fan" per se).

I'm just getting into the groove and mentally filing Dharma away as the second best guitarist I've seen this year when he breaks out what is possibly the worst solo I've ever heard. I'm sure it's very clever, but making his guitar bleat like a lamb does nothing but excite the Marsden crowd for all the wrong reasons. Poor Buck, not only is his solo spot a bit shite, but he is then blown off stage by Castellano's performance of Buck's own song, Last Days of May.


Ain't camera phones rubbish?

Miranda is introduced to the crowd and we're told that he's off to play with Paul Rodgers and Queen later in the year. The resounding boos should really have tipped the band off that playing a quick Queen medley wasn't going to go down particularly well. "I can't believe you boo-ed me" whines Danny. Welcome to Holmfirth, mate.

Highlight of the set is, for me, Burning For You which is followed by the (as silly as I'd expected) Godzilla. Sadly, this hosts the rhythm section's solos which they don't even have the decency to play in the right order for my joke to work*. The queue for the Gents is huge.

I'm caught slightly off-guard as cowbells chime (well, clink) and (Don't Fear) The Reaper makes an appearance earlier than I'd anticipated.

The night drifts to an end with a few more songs I don't know; it's a gentle landing rather than going out on a high.

I have seen much, much worse, but it could've used more cowbell.

___oOo___


*This would have been so much funnier if Jules had played his solo first...

A scientific expedition disembarks from its plane at the final outpost of civilization in the deepest Amazon rain forest. They immediately notice the ceaseless thrumming of native drums. As they venture further into the bush, the drums never stop, day or night, for weeks.

The lead scientist asks one of the natives about this, and the native's only reply is "Drums good. Drums never stop. Very BAD if drums stop."

The drumming continues, night and day, until one night, six weeks into the trip, when the jungle is suddenly silent. Immediately the natives run screaming from their huts, covering their ears. The scientists grab one boy and demand "What is it? The drums have stopped!"

The terror-stricken youth replies "Yes! Drums stop! VERY BAD!"

The scientists ask "Why? Why? What will happen?"

Wild-eyed, the boy responds,

"...BASS SOLO!!!"

Jagged Edge - Old Tramshed, Shipley - May 2008

doof - doof - doof - doof - doof - doof - doof - doof - doof - doof

The Tramshed is packed to the rafters on Bank Holiday Monday. The boys are playing their third show in as many nights (the Barrow posse having clocked up over 600 miles so far) and Alan's drumkit is very, VERY LOUD!

doof - doof - doof - doof - doof - doof - doof - doof - doof - doof

Seriously, I went to the loo during Faithfully and thought the place was coming down; the walls start shakin', the earth was quakin', my mind was achin'...

Well, the plumbing was rattling in sympathy anyway...

So, brief (sorry, I'm busy!) highlights of the night;

(i) BLUE COLLAR HEADBANGERS! During Blue Collar Man, there were a dozen or so people lining the staircase, heads nodding merrily. I've never seen anyone headbang to Styx; maybe time to add some Quo to the Tramshed set?

(ii) NEW SONG! No, not the Howard Jones track (though that was good - hey, I'm an eighties kinda guy!) - Whitesnake's Fool For You Loving. You'd guess Big Dave would take the vocal and you'd be right - bloody good it was too (I still want to hear him sing Still of the Night, though). Good choice, good interpretation; a future set fixture is born, I'm betting.

(iii) EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED! Y'know that pillar in the middle of the stage? It was fairly inevitable that someone, someday, would indulge in a bit of pole dancing, wasn't it? How come it was a BLOKE? And a bloke in a HAWAIIAN SHIRT at that? Only at a Jaggie show...

Oh yeah, the Blackpool squad were in town and wee Jo did her usual cracking job on Sweet Child...

On the whole, another good night out.

Did I mention that Alan's drums were very, VERY LOUD?

doof - doof - doof - doof - doof - doof - doof - doof - doof - doof


Mr Tambourine Man



Lonely Boy, Lonely Guitar



Hey Jo(e)



Prince Charming (Ridicule is nothing to be scared of)



Invoking the Spirit of Jim Morrison

Jagged Edge - Eastwood View, Rotherham - May 2008

Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass on a summer day listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is hardly a waste of time. - Sir John Lubbock

It's been a long time since they rocked and rolled and the boys look unusually keen to get on stage. Rain stopped play at Linthwaite (a fairly common occurrence, to be honest) so they've had their feet up for the best part of a month and, it has to be said, they look the better for it.

The venue (once we finally figure out how to get into the place) looks for all the world like someone's wallpapered over the wooden panelling in my old school assembly hall. There's a big, high stage and, OK, the bar's a bit incongruous, but the hall's big and boxy - the ideal layout for a great sound; so no pressure on the crew!

The setlist is a joy for the Journey lovers with the full repertoire (Higher Place, Faithfully, Any Way You Want It, Don't Stop Believing, Separate Ways, Be Good To Yourself and Girl Can't Help It) being aired between the usual Jovi, Aerosmith, Styx, Floyd, GnR, Free etc. Poison and Thunder fill the "sometimes" spots.

All is well in the world - DB's in fine voice for the ballads, Dann's pulling all sorts of foot-on-the-monitor poses, big Dave's sporting a grin the width of Rosie's celebrated rear, DS is boogie-ing away and Alan, even though we can't see him, sounds like he's having a ball.

Comfortably Numb illustrates just how good the sound is - the vocals (which can be a bit cluttered and muddy on occasion) are crystal clear and Dann's solo is a veritable wall of sound. Linda and Tracie claim there's a bum note in there somewhere but I reckon that means his hit rate is still something like seventeen-trillion-to-one.

Best moments? With a show like this there are so many to choose from. Blue Collar Man has, as predicted, become a show highlight; Faithfully (another song which can lose its impact when the sound isn't right) just rocks; Sweet Child… gets the dancefloor swinging; the three drunk guys channelling Freddie Mercury with the campest dancing ever seen in a WMC; even the half-time bingo provides entertainment as we debate just what language the caller is speaking ("South Yorkshire" might be a bit more of a challenge for big Dave's translation software than French or German).

Oh, and the encores. Remember I hinted at a theory a couple of dates back?

Just because my position on imaginary sky pixies makes Richard Dawkins look like the Archbishop of Canterbury doesn't mean I didn't pay attention in RI class, y'know. According to Judges, God bestowed a child upon an infertile couple on condition that he never have his hair cut or drink alcohol (OK, that might be a weakness in my analogy but, come on, some people believe the biblical stuff). The deal was that God would stay with the child - Samson (he was part of the Tribe of Dan, don'tcha know) - for as long as these conditions were met.

It's some nine months since big Dave had his locks shorn and, though not (yet) back to the Coverdale/Plant proportions of yore, his curls are at least bothering his collar again. Now, it might just be me, but I reckon his performances are getting better and better as his hair returns. Both ...Rosie and Rock & Roll are blistering tonight; the voice is restored and he really looks like he's enjoying himself.

So, great show; the guys are refreshed following their little break and head into a busy period firing on all cylinders - a good time to catch them if you can.







Someone's having fun;


To complete the oil painting collection;