Second-hand vinyl shopping always brings back memories of earth-stopping gigs for music lover Donna McLean.
Trying to choose the best gigs you’ve ever attended over a lifetime is virtually impossible, but I thought I’d give it a go. It’s Christmas, after all.
I’ve been out buying second-hand records this week, and every time a familiar vinyl pops up from a dusty pile, my heart skips a little beat.
So, let’s start with my very first concert. Ibrox stadium, as a 14-year-old, dressed in cropped jeans and new, snazzy black and white gutties from Schuh. The inimitable Simple Minds, supported by The Waterboys, The Cult, Hipsway and In Tua Nua. Not bad for a first gig, and for a musically curious teen!
I would happily go and see them all again, and I still listen to them regularly – keep your eyes peeled for a second-hand copy of Fisherman’s Blues for me, please.
Next up, Nine Inch Nails at Brixton Academy. I was in my early-20s, and I didn’t want to go. My ex-boyfriend’s older brother had bought the tickets, and I, quite frankly, couldn’t be bothered. The Ex listened to NIN far too loud while he was painting, and it did my head in.
Standing in the queue outside the Academy, snaked around the venue, as it always was, I was still huffing and puffing. Then I heard them play. I was spellbound. It was majestic. It was like a drug.
For some reason, I listened to them a lot, years later, when I was pregnant. Maybe it was the incessant beat of their music. I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive.
Memories of people and places, all wrapped up in music
My gig-going started early, but I was just too young for the punk scene, which was apparently huge in Ayrshire, where I grew up.
I was the right age for the conception of the rave scene, and I went to the very first all-nighter at Ayr Pavilion, which successfully ran for years, until Hangar 13 was closed down after several young people died from drug-related deaths. (The club was exonerated from any blame, but licensing shut it down anyway.)
As I write this, more musical memories are coming back; so many in Edinburgh, my home for much of the 1990s. The temporarily reformed Velvet Underground, with John Cale; Paul Brady playing a whole gig in the dark; my first Dick Gaughan gig, on the top of Calton Hill, while still a teenager. I missed the last connecting train back to Ayrshire and spent the night in Glasgow Central station.
Crosby, Stills and Nash. Dick Gaughan again, with my journalist friend, Daniel Pearl, in 1996, who was killed after being captured by Al-Qaeda in Pakistan in 2002. Danny absolutely loved Scotland and folk music. Billy Connolly was sitting beside us.
In Glasgow, Tom Petty, on one of those few trips to the UK, as he had a genuine fear of flying. In London, Marlena Shaw and Richie Havens, both at the Jazz Cafe. Warren Zevon, not long before he died. You could hear the longing in his voice. That was a poignant one.
And what of those magical gigs you never made it to at all? The best gigs you’ve never seen?
And, of course, David Bowie. Twice, David Bowie. Meltdown 2002, a year of personal meltdowns and catastrophes, but one of the highlights of my gig-going life. Two full sets back to back, playing the whole of the Low album after most of Heathen, and lots of the old favourites. With the Dandy Warhols.
At one point, I was crying in the toilets (due to the Ex, not due to Bowie). Tracey Emin gave me a hankie.
From the King in Prestwick to Queen Nina
And what of those magical gigs you never made it to at all? The best gigs you’ve never seen?
Since I’m from Prestwick, I’ll say Elvis in Vegas. Everyone was there at Prestwick Airport on the day he landed when returning to the States from Germany. Allegedly. Local women and men were in tears when he died.
We went on to have massive Elvis conventions at the airport, when it was more or less defunct. I went along one night, and it was surreal, to say the least. Prestwick always had a lot of impersonators, but that weekend, the entire town was full of them.
Or, staying with that spirit of punk, how about witnessing the Sex Pistols playing on a boat on the Thames? Imagine being there. Mayhem.
Above all, I wish I had seen The Pogues and Kirsty MacColl at that legendary Glasgow Barrowlands gig in 1987, the first time they sang Fairytale of New York live. The Barras is one of my favourite venues in the world.
And, then, Nina Simone, at Meltdown in London, 1999. Why, oh, why didn’t I go? I was even living in London at the time! She was rude and difficult and sat on the edge of the stage, picking her feet. She was explosive; she was Queen Nina.
Donna McLean is originally from Ayrshire and is a mum of twins, writer and activist
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