MORRISSEY
– MANCHESTER ARENA
Vocals:
MORRISSEY
Guitars:
BOZ BOORER
Guitars:
JESSE TOBIAS
Bass: MANDO
LOPEZ
Drums:
MATT WALKER
Keyboards:
GUSTAVO MANZUR
Support:
DAMIEN DEMPSEY
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| Poster for Manchester Arena Gig |
For a myriad of
reasons which I’ll save for sharing with you all on another day, I hadn’t even CONTEMPLATED, yet alone been interested
in, going to a Mozzer gig for a HUGE amount of time! My last one being Drury
Lane Theatre in London way back in February 1995 (over 21 YEARS ago!!). When
Moz declared in 2015 that he wasn’t going to come back to the UK to play, I
have to admit that I was, as well as being a mite bemused, pretty damned
devastated, and a part of me actually died if the truth be known. I was worried that I’d left it too late and
that I’d never lay eyes on my beloved Misery Mozzery again! DISASTER! He’s such a massive Diva! Having said that, I DO like a man who can
have a tantrum-level strop, though! Very
much like my good self! Love it!
So, when Morrissey
announced out of the blue recently that he WOULD be doing a show in the UK this
year, and not only that, but he was coming home to wondrous Mancunia in that
most favoured of months, August, and that it would be the SOLO date he was
going to play in merry old England in 2016, well, that was the wake-up call I
needed! I decided immediately that it
was time to end the longstanding grudge I’d (perhaps unreasonably? I dunno)
held against the boy from St Retford for so very long and rectify the situation
forthwith!
On the morning of
the day that the tickets were due to go on sale (8th July 2016 at 9
am, it is forever etched on my mind!), for the first time in aeons I was a
quivering, nervous wreck! What if I
didn’t manage to get hold of any? I was
at work at the time, and I was multi-tasking like a good ‘un on my office PC
and on my phone, constantly pressing Refresh, Refresh, REFRESH! F5 Key, you legend! Success was mine, happily, as I was thankfully
able to score some tickets for me and my husband Jay, who himself hadn’t seen Moz since 2009. Yay!
Sadly, I could only afford to stretch to the very cheapest of the seated
options which were up in the Gods of the
Manchester Arena,
but just to have the chance to eyeball that beautiful bastard once more after the passing of such a long time was priceless!
The tickets took a
while to arrive which stressed me out no end, and by which time I’d quit my
hated job of 7 and a half years, but they arrived on 1st August
which ensured that it was a superb start to the month. As well as finding a new role which started
on the 8th, it was our 4th wedding anniversary just before on the 4th
which saw us taking in the sights of the gorgeous city of York during a couple
of days away, and my birthday the week after that on the 10th. Going to see Morrissey was the icing on the
cake, you can be sure of that!
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| Tickets! |
Hearing news of
the MPorium Pop up Shop that was going to be held at the utterly wondrous
Salford Lads Club (hereby referred to as the SLC) during the weekend that
Mozzer was in town was as sweet as you like, seeing as I’d missed out on the
one set up at Battersea Dogs Home in London a while back.
Before too long, Saturday 20th August 2016 had arrived. MORRISSEY DAY! The cheeky dimples I've inherited from my darling Pater were well and truly on display, and I would even go as far as to say that the beam emitted from them could have powered the whole of the North West for a MONTH! I was THAT ecstatic! I got up super early that morning, and wore a fetching white Moz T Shirt with a piccie of the great man himself and “MORRISSEY” written vertically next to it in big, bold red letters. Ruddy stunning it is, one of my old skool issues from back in the day. I headed straight over to SLC after performing my charitable deed for the day which involved dropping off some donations at a local Oxfam branch in Manchester City Centre.
As I waited for
the bus, I noticed some young women who both also had Morrissey T Shirts on which
made me smile. I was old enough to be
their mother, mind you! Manchester
really did feel like it was there for the taking that day, a RUSH and a PUSH and the land could
indeed have been OURS! So, I boarded my princely mode of transport
and was able to nip over to SLC before the girls and their companion as they
got off a stop too early. Oops! There was a semblance of a queue when I
skipped over to the club when I’d been dropped off, but I didn’t mind as the
atmosphere was buzzing! The rain was at
that very moment falling hard on a humdrum town, but it was all part of the
fun!
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| Waiting outside SLC |
After about 15
minutes or so, the queue started moving.
They were letting us in on a staggered basis, in waves of about 10
people or so. As I waited, I overheard a
guy in front of me saying that visitors who had bought some of the bundles on
sale the previous day (at £70 a pop, ouch!) had immediately put them on eBay
for in the region of £200-£210! Cheeky
feckers, how outrageous is THAT?!
Eventually, I was
allowed into the hallowed grounds of SLC, and followed the crowd in front of me
into the gym hall which had been set up not only as the MPorium, but also had a
range of the club’s own delectable range of Smiths and Mozzer related
merchandise. Being the stingy ickle
lickle Yorkshire madam that I am, I’d vowed to not buy anything more than a set
of badges (which they bloody well didn’t have!), but in the end I couldn’t
resist the Autobiography package
which was comprised of a fabulous heavy duty tote bag, a signed (oooh!) copy of the hardback version of the book, a poster,
a pen (with “Penis Mightier Than the
Sword” (nudge nudge, wink wink, fner, fner!) printed on it) and a rather
nice Penguin bookmark. A bit on the steep side at £70 as I’ve said, but worth
every penny! It would have accrued in
value as well before I’d even left the point of sale, going off what I said
earlier!
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| Autobiography bundle |
I also picked up
some of the SLC goodies from the lovely volunteers, namely yet more of their badges
(I think I’m addicted to them!), a couple of postcards, and the book “Reader Meet Author” by N(eil) S Calcutt. I nabbed a poster and flyer to go with this
latter, splendid acquisition which was wonderful stuff. I had a brief natter with Amber and Ross, two
of the top regulars who help out, and it was terrific to catch up with them
both.
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| Reader Meet Author |
I got a brew from
the tea room at this juncture, and had a wander around the breath-taking piece
of architecture that is SLC. In the “Smiths” Room, I was delighted to see
that the photo of me outside the club from April 2015 (complete with “Angie from Huddersfield” caption) was
still on the ceiling on the far right hand side as you enter it, directly
underneath the large “That Joke Isn’t
Funny Anymore” poster (WANT!). Now,
I’ve made no secret of the fact that “That
Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore” is unquestionably my FAVOURITE song of all time
EVER, not just Smiths and Mozzer either, so I consider it an immense honour and
a privilege to have been placed there.
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| Ceiling, Smiths Room, SLC |
I wandered
upstairs, where in the boxing room were some Promo Stands featuring Steven Patrick “Action is My Middle Name” Morrissey
in classic fighter stance. Another of
the volunteers kindly took a piccie of me next to one of them, fist raised in
mock fury. It was an excellent photo which I immediately posted to my Twitter
and Facebook accounts. So extraordinarily
vainglorious! The wonders of modern technology, eh?!
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| Me and Mozzer at SLC |
I went back
outside at this point, where I got talking to a top group of fellow fans by the
names of John, Mari, Paul and Colette. They were admiring my Autobiography bag which was casually
slung over my shoulder. I had a bit of a chinwag with them about why it was
such a drastically long stretch since I’d last been to a Mozzer gig, and they
were all proper excited for me to be seeing Mozzerooni La La again after
literally decades away from the fold. John very considerately took some photos
of me beneath the famous (and VERY recently, newly restored!) sign above the SLC
doorway, and then they went inside to have a ganders at the tasty wares on
sale.
Whilst yakking
away to the gang and going on with myself as is (too?!) often the case, the
familiar yellow and black Manchester
Music Tours van pulled up, driven by the very capable Craig Gill, he being the drummer of Inspiral Carpets distinction.
Now, I’ve been on The Smiths excursion before with Jay and it’s reet grand,
but today was something else as Craig had several chums in tow! Yes, an impressive vintage red double decker
bus, crammed full of numerous eager Mozzheads, parked up next to its bessie
mate. I’d mulled over booking to go once
more and see all of the familiar haunts, but I had much to do before the day
was out so had to give it a miss. Still,
it was cool to briefly see Craig, even if I didn’t get to say hello this time
around!
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| Me outside SLC, yet again! |
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| Manchester Music Tours Minibus and Vintage Red Double Decker |
I hung around
outside for a bit longer, then met the ace Jo
Cooper and her partner Kev. We went inside for a short time, where Jo
picked up the Bona Drag set. As it was Jo and Kev’s first visit to the
club, I gave them a brief guide of what was there to check out. We went back outside where I took some photos
of them both in the SLC doorway on their camera. It was at this time that I bade them farewell
until later on and headed back into town.
I’d lost the day ticket I’d bought earlier, so had to pay TWICE in the
end which as a Yorkshire born and bred lass did NOT please me one bit!
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| Me and Jo Cooper |
Anyhoo, I got the
bus to Levenshulme once I hit the city centre, to find the Moz for Every Occasion stall set up especially for that day only on
the market. They were a charming young
couple, who sell unique greetings cards with lyrics from Smiths and Morrissey
songs. I bought a few of these from them
and we had a nice chat, before I got a bus home to get ready for the evening’s
festivities.
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| Moz for Every Occasion Cards |
I took shots of
all my brilliant purchases when I got back, then carefully put them all
away. Before too long had passed, our good
friend Neil (Smith!) arrived, who
was also going to the show later. We
were all three of us getting a wee bit giddy by now! We cracked open the wine, vigorously belted
out a few ditties on SingStar (including some by our eminent figurehead!), put
on a bit of the old Hulmerist on DVD, and had some scran to keep us going (I’d
only had a bag of ready salted crisps all day, such was the level of
excitement!). I changed into my second T
Shirt of the day, another white one but with a different Moz pic from the one I
had sported earlier, surrounded by “SMITHS” repeatedly in huge
pink horizontal letters. I also put on
my Johnny Marr type purple velvet blazer which I LOVE!
We got the bus
into Manchester, and walked across to Victoria Station. We headed for the bar there, which I’d been
told in advance would be playing non-stop Smiths and Mozzer tunage. This turned out to be spot on. Get in! We met a stand-up comedy friend of Jay and
Neil’s called Adam Bowman and his girlfriend Anna who were both also going to
the concert. We had one round of drinks
which was extortionately expensive (£7.20 for a large glass of white wine! Fackin’
‘Ell! They saw us coming, all right!),
then after talking tattoos (I have “Oh
Manchester, so much to answer for” inked on my left forearm which I flashed
to the guys!) wandered over to the arena to get ready for His Very Mozzerness
to bestow his esteemed presence upon his devoted disciples.
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| Meat Is Murder |
We sauntered over
to the merchandise stall, and amongst the faberooni T Shirts for sale was one
that caught my eye in a heartbeat. It was a limited edition one produced
especially for the gig, featuring the photo of a young Albert Finney also used
in the posters to promote the event. It HAD to be bought (so much for being
frugal!), so I got one each for me and Jay as a nice souvenir of the night.
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| Limited Edition T-Shirt Front |
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| Limited Edition T-Shirt Back |
We headed over to
one of the many bars just before going to find our seats (Neil had got his
ticket separately as a surprise from his wife Cat, so would be in a different
part of the venue from us although not too far away), when some nasty wreck of
a bitch ass Nazi buffoon decided to jump the queue. The “gentleman” concerned was wretchedly
thin, balding, toothless and as drunk as a skunk. At first, we thought he’d tried to push in
the queue next to us which was bad enough, but when it became apparent that it
was in fact ours, Jay tried in vain to have a quiet word. The dude wasn’t having any of it, however, so
I furiously pushed ahead in front of him (as was suggested by an indignant lady
behind me in the queue who was extremely annoyed by the lack of manners
displayed by the accursed oik of a ruffian), to make it clear that his
behaviour was not acceptable.
This fuckwit of a
dickhead had kept his back to Jay and refused to even look him in the eye when my
husband had done his best to reason with him, but the second I attempted to shove
this muppet out of the way in order to recover our places in the queue and told
him to get to the back of it, he swung around like a man possessed, and waved
around a bunch of fives, his face contorted in a snarl of seething (misguided!)
rage. He threatened to strike me and
constantly referred to me as a “Black
Bitch” and a “Black Bastard”! The absolute nerve of him! Jay was beyond incensed and told the geezer
in no uncertain terms to stop talking to his wife like that! I challenged the prick to “Hit a girl, go on, then!”. Talk about the adrenalin flowing!
This living
example of a subhuman species, clearly sans company (who on earth would want to
be associated with such an epic Cuntlord, I have to wonder?!), had the cheek to
claim that he had returned to join a “friend” (yeah, right!) in the queue, but
when I asked the unfortunate chap he was referring to if this was the case and
they were in fact together, his exact response was “Is he FUCK!”, which told me all I needed to know!
By this stage, the
rest of the queue was appalled by the Neanderthal’s disgusting, repellent and
repugnant behaviour, as were the staff manning the bar who point blank refused
to serve him! He racially abused me further
as he sloped off from the scene of his hate
crime with
a flea in his ear and his tail between his legs like the cowardly piece of shit
that he was! See that IDIOT walk? Yes, we certainly did! I yelled “Nazi
Bastard” at him at the top of my voice for good measure as he ran off like
a motherfucking pussy! My Leonine fire
and ire had come to the fore, and I think he was genuinely alarmed by the
seriously deranged look in my eyes. What
a twat of a wanker! He was obviously
exceedingly jealous of my MAHOOSIVE “Afro Quiff” (© Master Jason Edward Cooke Esq., to give my better
half his full title!) which, combined
with my boss (thanks, Dickie
Felton!)
glasses, made me look FEARSOME! “People”
(if you can call him that!) of such ill-bred ilk ought to just do one, jog on
and GET GONE!
When we FINALLY got
to the bar after all the commotion, a few people in the queue asked me if I was
okay which was really kind of them. I
had my faith restored in humanity, for sure!
The young girl who got our drinks order gave us some of them (possibly
ALL them, as I’m not certain I was charged at all!) for free, and said the guy
was “A Jerk”. She wasn’t wrong!
We left the bar to
enjoy our hard fought and won refreshments, feeling elated that we’d seen off
such an unpleasant dickwand and “Handed
him his arse on a plate without employing the use of fisticuffs” as Jay so
succinctly put it, then Neil went off to find his seat and Jay and I headed off
up into the Gods, also known as the Upper Tiers, to find ours (Block 208, Row
M, Seats 26 and 27, if you really want to know!). Despite the vast distance of the stage from
where we were located in the arena, we were slap bang opposite and could adoringly
gaze at the Moz directly. He wouldn’t have been able to see us which was fine,
but WE could see HIM which was what mattered.
We’d regrettably
missed the support act Damien Dempsey and the pre-show video due to the “jolly”
shenanigans that had reluctantly claimed our attention earlier, but about 5
minutes after we’d sat down, the moment we’d been waiting for arrived. MORRISSEY was in the house, and I was
seeing him before my very eyes IN THE
FLESH for the first time in 21 long,
long YEARS!! The crowd went mad as
you would rightfully expect, and Morrissey broke into song as the familiar
chords of “Suedehead” rang out
across the stadium. Morrissey had greeted
the crowd with something like “Basta,
Basta, Basta” (I think!) as he strolled casually onto the stage, and he
seemed to be on unusually (as far as I’m concerned, anyway!) good form (“You had to sneak into my room, just to
see the Stretford gloom!” being a joyful example).
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| Me enjoying the show |
The next track was
“Alma Matters”, which Adam had said
earlier he’d really like to hear live, so Jay and I were most pleased about
this. There were, to my shame, a few
songs I didn’t know at all well due to the self-imposed boycott I’d observed
for such a lengthy spell, but there were a few undoubted highlights which
delighted me and fair reduced Jay to tears on more than one occasion. “Suedehead”
as mentioned before, “What She Said”, “Ouija
Board, Ouija Board”, “Everyday Is Like Sunday” and “Jack The Ripper” were all well received by me and Jay naturally,
and, at the risk of sounding like *affects American accent* cheese on a stick,
there was a LOT of love in the room for Sir Steven Patrick of Morrissey which
was spectacular not only to see but to FEEL, too!
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| Jam packed Manchester Arena Take 1 |
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| Jam packed Manchester Arena Take 2 |
When “Ganglord” was performed, it was accompanied by an incredibly graphic video showing way too many examples of police brutality which was terrible to watch. “Meat is Murder” was, as to be expected, played with such passion, fury and incredulity at the sheer audacity that people in this day and age still choose to consume animal products. Being a carnivore myself (I'm a lapsed vegetarian – I know, the lowest of the low according to the maverick that is Sean Hughes! Soz!), I can completely understand this, and my conscience pricks at me constantly.
Some horrifically violent footage (the young man next to me couldn’t bear it, and he had his head in his hands for the entire thing, the poor kid) was played to the wary audience while “Meat is Murder” was performed, which just added to my already growing sense of guilt. I think it may be TIME… At the end, Morrissey sang “You’re too FAT to care”, and “You’re too LAZY to care” which dumbfounded me as the vitriol was so tangible. I can’t blame him, though, he has a point after all.
The backdrops
changed constantly during the set, and I didn’t know most of the people
featured on them apart from Bruce Lee
(looking super cool in a white suit and shades) and Marc Bolan. The one that I remember above all of the others,
however, was a picture I’d previously seen shared on social media by
Morrissey’s nephew, the Photographer Sam
“Esty” Rayner (the small lad in the original “Suedehead” video, so sweet!) featuring a young black boy with his
palms held out on display and the words “Rise”
and “Up” written on each one. I couldn’t help but feel proud that I’d not
taken any shit from the fascist piece of work Jay and I had clashed with earlier
on, and I drew much inspiration from the magnificent image before me.
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| Marc Bolan Backdrop |
Morrissey was
particularly vocal during the night, and some of the following gems came about
as he conversed with his doting public:
On Politics: “Sportswomen don’t start wars. Sportsmen don’t start wars. Hairdressers don’t start wars. Cows don’t start wars. Badgers don’t start wars. Politicians START WARS,
and they LOVE IT!”.
On Agriculture: “FUCK the Farmer!” after a monologue
covering how a tiny lamb trusts its “master” to look after it but is inevitably
betrayed when it is sent to slaughter, just before “Meat is Murder” was played.
On Bullfighting: “The Shame of Spain”.
On Local
Government: Morrissey gleefully decreed that he was “The Lord Mayor of Manchester”. Mozzer mistakenly stated that the
Mayor of Manchester had been elected and that he was from Liverpool. He was of course referring to Andy Burnham, who has merely been
nominated as the Labour Candidate for Greater Manchester and is in fact from
Lancashire. The post has NOT yet been
filled! Moz said that Andy was very
nice, but that someone from Manchester should have been elected before asking
where “Alf Roberts” (of Corrie fame)
was! Funny man! Such a comedy genius!
On his appearance: “I would like to apologise to all the
people who are watching me on the big screens.
Because I don’t usually look this bad.
I usually look much WORSE, so count yourselves lucky, this is a GOOD
night!”.
On his setlist: “So many songs, so little time!”. Truer words never were spoketh!
On the passing of
friends: “In this year of the Reaper, we
would like to remember Victoria Wood, Caroline Aherne, Muhammad Ali,
Prince. Too soon, too soon, too soon”. There was no reference to his former hero Mr
Bowie though, curiously, which didn’t go down well with everybody present in
the auditorium.
There were a few
costume changes throughout the set, the ultimate of which saw Mozzer in a resplendent
ruby red shirt (my favourite colour!) during the one and only encore of the
night, “Irish Blood, English Heart”.
Said item was duly thrown into the crowd at the end of the song, did you even
doubt it?! Prior to starting this
number, Morrissey said “When I talked
about how you’re all sick to death of Labour and Tories, well it’s now 2016 and
you ARE!”. He’s right, as well! At
the very end of the night, when the boys had finished the last song of the
evening, Morrissey’s farewell utterance was “Whatever Happens, I Love You” as he left the stage for the final
time, which I thought was an apt parting.
After the show had
ended and the house lights went up, Jay and I trudged slowly back downstairs to
meet up with Neil and make our weary way home.
We espied the ignorant FOOL of a TOOL of infamous queue-dodging fame who
we’d taken down, and at first I was really angry and wanted to confront
him. But then, as I watched him stagger
along (it was a miracle he was still awake by then, he must have downed that
much alcohol!), I realised he was on his own and muttering away to himself which
was when I felt a tad sorry for him actually, as he struck me as being a
somewhat pitiful character.
So then, what did
I make of my 1st Mozzer gig in over 2 DECADES? Rip roaring good
entertainment, as it happens. I had a FANTASTIC
night and met some awesome people too throughout the whole of the day which
proved to be so very special from start to finish. As for the man himself, you
ask? Well, let it be known that I STILL
love him despite the MAJOR exasperation of yore I have demonstrated towards him,
I ALWAYS have done and I ALWAYS will, FOREVERMORE! I can’t it make any clearer
than that….
ANGIE J COOKE nee LEWIS
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| This here review! Soz for getting Boorer wrong, Boz! Damn Spellchecker! |
MORRISSEY
– MANCHESTER ARENA
SATURDAY,
20 AUGUST 2016
The full setlist
for the concert is as follows:
ENTRANCE: Drumbeat
from “The Operation”
1) Suedehead
2) Alma Matters
3) All You Need
Is Me
4) You Have
Killed Me
5) Ganglord
6) Speedway
7) Istanbul
8) World Peace
Is None of Your Business
9) Kiss Me A
Lot
10) I’m
Throwing My Arms Around Paris
11) Ouija
Board, Ouija Board
12) Everyday Is
Like Sunday
13) The
Bullfighter Dies
14) Meat Is
Murder
15) It’s Hard
to Walk Tall When You’re Small
16) Jack The
Ripper
17) One Of Our
Own
18) The World Is Full of Crashing Bores
19) I Will See
You In Far Off Places
20) What She
Said (Rubber Ring Outro)
21) Oboe
Concerto
ENCORE:
22) Irish Blood,
English Heart
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| Signed Moz Setlist, photo from T'Internet |
Enjoyed reading this. Great photos too.
ReplyDeleteThanks, TRB! :-)
ReplyDelete