Goldblade at Manchester Academy 3

I'm hot, I'm sweaty, I'm wearing three t-shirts and my hair looks like a bush but I'm happy, very happy indeed. The reason for my happiness is that a large proportion of sweat on my arms, on my hands, on my face and in my hair originated in the sweat glands of John Robb, lead singer of Goldblade.

As you may have guessed, I have been to see Goldblade tonight. The evening started well. Although we set off rather late, we got to the venue, Manchester Academy (3), in good time. There, in the foyer, was John Robb himself. He is a real man of the people and is happy to chat to people. Even better, he is happy to admit that he does not remember your last encounter with him, which is admirable honesty on his part.

So I walked in accompanied by my older daughter, Charlie, and she went off to the toilet. John was chatting to a fan/friend (it's hard to tell the difference when it comes to John), so I loitered and waited. Charlie came out of the toilet and started to go upstairs so I went over to John and eventually spoke to him. I mentioned that I had talked to him at Wasted and he said he didn't remember me. I have no problem with that because there were a lot of people at Wasted and loads of them spoke to John.

Then Charlie came back downstairs and I introduced her to him. She was wearing a Towers of London t-shirt so he mentioned the gig and we said we had been there. We talked about the Towers: John appears to have a quite high opinion of them, which I'm glad about because I think they are a badly underrated band.

Then we went upstairs and into Academy 3 and I got drinks in. Vodka and Coke for me and Vodka and Orange for Charlie. The first band, Kamikaze Sperm came on soon after, the lead singer dressed in a rather nice halter neck dress.

They played good, loud, obnoxious punk, so how could I complain. They also had a nice touch, a girl on an alto sax. It would have been very Xray Spex had the lead singer sounded anything like Poly Styrene. He didn't but I loved the sound and bought a CD and t-shirt after the gig.

Next, rather unexpectedly for me, was a comedian, Ted Chippington. I thought he was fabulous and even chipped in (sorry) on a couple of occasions (shouting "Blackpool" when he wanted us to shout names of towns in Lancashire for instance). He also sang strange versions of "She Loves You" by the Beatles, "Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Old Oak Tree" by Tony Orlando and Dawn (I found myself singing along to that) and finally D.I.S.C.O. by Ottawan, accompanied by a lone drummer. Bloody marvellous!


There was then a bit of a wait for the main attraction and we were fooled into believing it would come a little sooner by what must have been a light check. Someone backstage asked me what time it was (I had been right at the front since Kamikaze Sperm had started their first song) and I rather foolishly told him it was five to ten. I should have said five past and Goldblade would have started early.


Minutes before Goldblade came on, I spotted a familiar face from Wasted. The familiar face comes with a Wolverhampton accent and I stated the bleeding obvious to him - something along the lines of "you're from Wolverhampton aren't you?" He confirmed that he was. I then admitted I don't remember his name. He said he didn't remember mine but remembered that I'd been with Dave from the Straps when he first met me. I introduced myself and I'm sure he did the same but I didn't hear him so I still don't know his name. I also introduced Charlie to him.

Then Goldblade came on to a huge roar from the crowd. There was also a huge surge forward and I found myself pinned against the front of the stage. That didn't worry me because John Robb came and shook my hand and they began with probably my favourite of their songs - Fighting in the Dancehall - and I immediately began the jigging, shaking my hair everywhere (an innovation for this gig), pointing my finger at the stage (well, actually at various members of the band in strict rotation) and singing along at the top of my voice that I always do on these occasions. To my bitter disappointment, John did not hold the mic out for me to sing along into but never mind. I got over it.


Charlie took this picture of John and I really, really like it:


It's clearly very early in the gig because he still has his shirt buttoned up and his quiff is still a bit in place.

I really do not know the order in which they played their songs because I didn't nick the set list. I do know they sang Psycho and I'm pretty sure I sang into the mic for that one, also Power of Rock and Roll and I shouted "I believe!" into the mic when John Robb laid his hand on my head and shouted "Do you believe?". They sang Black Sheep Radical, Rebel Songs, ACDC, The Decline and Fall of Ancient Rome. They had girls dancing on stage and then about half the audience. They also had what I can only describe as a mad monk. The band had had placards made to help us with the songs and the monk used one to fan us in the audience.

Not at this stage. By this time he and the band were whipping us into a frenzy. I was certainly frenzied and when they went off after Kiss My Ass (something I will remember at work on Monday, John, I promise), I feverishly chanted Gold-blade, Gold-blade along with everybody else there.

They came out and did the encore, Home Turf. I absolutely love Home Turf but I had t-shirts to buy and a train to catch so we had to go. Charlie got a Goldblade t-shirt, I got a Goldblade t-shirt, a Goldblade badge, a Kamikaze Sperm CD and a Kamikaze Sperm t-shirt. Then we went back to Oxford Road Station and caught the last train back to Preston.

I put the extra t-shirts on along the way for extra warmth and when I got home, I put the kettle on and switched the computer on. That's why I'm hot, I'm sweaty, I'm wearing three t-shirts and my hair looks like a bush but I'm happy, very happy indeed. Oh and for ladies of a certain age, here's a picture of John Robb without his shirt on and I'm sure his sweat has magical properties.