Since I was a teenager, the only thing I wanted to do was to be in a rock’n’roll band or watch one. Over the decades, that’s expanded to include every style of music from every continent.
I’ve watched and interviewed Saharan griots, Brazilian revolutionaries and Celtic rebels. I’ve played in Mississippi juke joints and on remote Hebridean islands. I’ve watched some of the greatest musicians in popular music history and had a very good time doing all of it.
Here, I pick 19 of the most memorable nights – including one that didn’t even happen – all for very different but special reasons.
1. Siouxsie & the Banshees, Cornwall Coliseum, 1988
This was my first big gig. I’d been to some local shows where I grew up, in Barnstaple, mainly put on by an enterprising local punk, who would convince groups like Subhumans to make their slow way west. For this outing, she had booked a coach to take her regulars to see punk royalty, Siouxsie & the Banshees down in Cornwall.
As a 15-year-old, my mind was blown by the spiked haircuts, piercings and attitude of their loyal punk following, and I spent as much time watching the audience pogo, spit, sweat and shout as I did gazing on the stage at the super-cool Steve Severin, all silk polka dots and sunglasses, attacking his bass.
The smells, the sounds, the sights – even the illicit pint of cider – everything made me feel like I had found my place, my people, my world. That was the night I was hooked.
2. Citizen Fish, Torrington, Devon, 1990
This one is included for purely selfish personal reasons: at the bottom of a bill of punk bands in a mid-Devon arts centre, a last-minute replacement for The Levellers, was unknown local band Ag (with a circle round the A, natch), with yours truly on bass.
This was my first gig as a musician, the first of hundreds. I still play today, only a handful of shows a year now, but I include this night as it holds a special place in my heart. And we got paid – £7.50 each.
If you’ve ever wondered what the crowd looks like from the stage, it’s both terrifying and otherworldly.
The thrill of playing with other musicians is impossible to put into words, it’s pure communication (or a pit of despair, depending on how it’s going).
For somebody like me, for whom every element of the gig is sacred, to be one of the people making the noise is something I’ll never tire of.
3. The Cure, De La Soul, Sinead O'Connor, Glastonbury Festival 1990
Glastonbury Festival didn’t used to be how it is today, with mega-fences and exclusive zones. Back in 1990, you just walked into your local independent record shop and handed over your £38 in exchange for a ticket, and stuck your thumb out on the side of the road. At least, that was how I did it.
The line up felt a lot more vital and varied to me then, but maybe that was just because, as it was smaller with fewer stages, the Pyramid Stage boasted every style of music going. Or maybe it was just because I was younger and everything looked better then.
Take the Saturday night in 1990. Sinead O’Connor kicked things off with an angry and emotional tour through her brilliant recent album, ‘I Do Not Want What I Have Not Got’ (1990), finishing with a breathtaking Nothing Compares 2 U.
Next up were De La Soul, who brought joy to a crowd full of goths awaiting their heroes. I still smile at the memory of thousands of backcombed heads bouncing up and down to The Magic Number.
And then came The Cure, perhaps the biggest band in the world at that time, off the back of their career-high Disintegration (1989). A glorious set of hits was dotted with deeper cuts – Lament, Dressing Up, The Same Deep Water As You.
It was hot and rammed. Water was sprayed on those of us crammed in at the front, and Fascination Street was interrupted by a helicopter landing stage right to help some injured fans caught in the crush just in front of where I was stood, oblivious.
Once the crowd had been entreated to retreat, the pressure eased, and the set continued into the night.
I’ve seen The Cure maybe 10 times down the years, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a better live act. But along with so many great memories of that night, I also remember how scary being in a massive crowd surging forwards into crush barriers could be.
4. Paul McCartney, Cornwall Coliseum, St Austell, 1991
Growing up on the edge of Exmoor, I spent much of my teenage years complaining that bands never came anywhere near me. And then it happened – the big one.
For a Beatles obsessive, to have Paul McCartney come to the west country to play a warm-up show for his appearance on MTV Unplugged was too good to be true. But with the venue housing only around 3,000 standing, getting tickets would be impossible, surely?
Only, back then, it wasn’t. With no bots or touts spamming online booking sites, it was simply luck of the draw. Dial and redial the phone number and hope to get lucky – which I did.
Being a teenager in leather jacket, spiky hair and eye liner, it wasn’t hard to get close to the front of a crowd largely made up of what I then described as ‘Mums and Dads. So there I was, within shouting distance of a Beatle. An actual Beatle.
McCartney played two sets that night – one on acoustic instruments, which was very informal, and included a new and exclusive airing of the first song he ever wrote (I Lost My Litle Girl; it wasn’t great) followed by a rocking second set rammed with Beatles classics.
An electrifying Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band had the intimate venue bouncing. Seeing such a legend in a small venue easily made up for the times the South West was missed off tours.
But I couldn’t stay in the west country any longer. I had to head for the bright lights of the big city, so I moved to London.
5. Jesus & Mary Chain, My Bloody Valentine, Dinosaur Jr, Blur, Brixton Academy, London, 1992
Back in the 1950s and 60s, package tours were standard. I have a poster with one bill boasting Eddie Cochrane, Chuck Berry, Bill Haley, The Everly Brothers, Jerry Lee Lewis, Little Richard, Fats Domino, LaVern Baker and Bo Diddley. What a night that must have been, both on and off stage!
But by the early 1990s, the concept was unheard of. So when the Jesus & Mary Chain announced their Rollercoaster package show, I knew I had to go.
First up were newcomers Blur, whose backdrop included a bizarre movie showing the backwards journey of a beefburger from bottom to field. In truth, they weren’t that good. I saw them another 10 times at least down the years, and every other time, they were fabulous. I wonder how much they learned from this tour.
Next up was the violent noise of Dinosaur Jr, trashing guitars and leaping around, before My Bloody Valentine filled the night with the greatest volley of guitars and drums I have heard before or since, building into a seemingly endless sonic assault as they did their trick of playing a single chord from You Made Me Realise for as long as they could bear – on this occasion, I think it was about 15 minutes.
After all this came one of my all-time favourite bands, the Jesus & Mary Chain themselves. Backlit through smoke as they delivered a swaggering set that seemed at once classic and timeless, I thought then as I do now that this was a band that had studied cool, and made it their own.
6. Johnny Cash, Glastonbury Festival, 1994
Back before the legend slot was core to the Glastonbury experience, I found myself sat on the hill in front of the main stage (the famous pyramid stage having burnt down a few weeks before the festival) watching an old country singer whose latest album was getting unexpectedly rave reviews.
I knew the hits and my Dad’s worn-out copy of ‘Orange Blossom Special’ (1965) was a childhood staple (it now sits among my own records, where I bring it out for special occasions), but nothing prepared me for the wonder that was a Johnny Cash show.
Folsom Prison Blues, Ring of Fire, Jackson and A Boy Named Sue, as well as a selection from his new ‘American Recordings’ (1994) album, saw this veteran own the Sunday afternoon at Glastonbury.
I still pinch myself that I saw the Man In Black – it feels like something I’ll tell my grandchildren, probably repeatedly, like the time I saw George Best play at Barnstaple Town in a charity game. The real stuff of legend.
7. Oasis, Sheffield Arena, Sheffield, 1995
I’d first seen Oasis the year before, and it was obvious they were something special. So I couldn’t miss this one, and drove across the country in driving rain (getting lost somewhere outside of Stoke) for their first stadium show. Having toured the clubs and theatres, this was the big one, with a sell-out 12,000 going mad for it – and then some.
It was an exhilarating night – the fans on the sides and back overran the security and forced their way down onto the floor, whipped into mania by the sheer excitement – it was palpable. Everyone knew this was only going to go one way and it felt like this was the moment they went stratospheric.
Support was supposed to be from The Verve, but injury ruled them out, so a local band that I’d also seen the year before stepped in at the last minute: Pulp.
Towards the climax of the show, the band walked off, leaving Noel alone with his acoustic guitar to give the first public outing of his newest song, Don’t Look Back In Anger.
I may have created this memory in the intervening years, but I swear he waved to his mother in the crowd and said “Look at me, Mam”.
The band returned for a blistering encore of Whatever, Slide Away and Supersonic before a blistering cover of I Am The Walrus sent us out into the Yorkshire night woozy with excitement.
I would see them many more times at arenas, headlining festivals, and their record-breaking Knebworth extravaganza, but nothing would ever beat that moment when they just exploded.
8. Pulp, Glastonbury Festival, 1995
It was disappointing at the time to be told that The Stone Roses had been forced to cancel their Glastonbury headline slot after John Squires broke his collarbone in a mountain biking accident – it wasn’t even a rock’n’roll excuse.
But, having seen Pulp the year before on the NME stage mid-afternoon, I was happy enough with the replacement. That had been such a good show, I was itching to see the Sheffield band again.
Their stand-in set went down in Glastonbury history as one of the great headline shows, climaxing with a sensational take on their latest single, Common People. A couple of months later, they released ‘Different Class’ (1995), and were soon one of the biggest bands going.
But it was that Glastonbury show that made Jarvis Cocker a star. I still have the smile on my face.
9. Bootleg Beatles, Cardiff city centre, 00:01 1 January 2000
At school, we used to talk about the year 2000 – how old we’d be, where we would be, what we would do. For years, it was built up as being the most important party in human history. Or certainly for the last thousand years anyway.
Long before it became christened the Millennium and we worried that the millennium bug would see planes fall from the skies, we partied like it was 1999 and promised to meet up in the year 2000. But when it came, I had no special plans other than to go for drinks with old friends, who happened to live in Cardiff.
So as the night wore on, we made our way with the crowds and some champagne to where a free concert was being held and where we’d decided to enjoy the bongs.
We missed Shakin Stevens by minutes, and I remain unsure how I feel about that, but as one millennium shifted to the next, the most perfect band for the occasion hit the stage. The greatest musical event of the previous century not being an option, Cardiff had been very wise and plumped for the next best thing: the Bootleg Beatles.
It was pure joy, the whole city (it seemed) singing and dancing along to Can’t Buy Me Love and Hey Jude. All we needed was love, and there was plenty of that (as well as champagne) to go around.
10. Radiohead, South Park, Oxford, 2001
I could easily have picked any of the times I’ve Radiohead, as the experience is so complete, total and immersive, but I plumped for this homecoming show as it was the one that saw them triumph against all the odds.
After blinding sets from Sigur Ros, Supergrass and Beck, Radiohead took to the stage. Throughout a distinctly un-summers day, we’d been asking each other how would their more avant garde recent offerings ‘Kid A’ (2000) and ‘Amnesiac’ (2001) translate to the live arena?
In the end, very bloody well was the answer, and even a biblical downpour that threatened to wash the entire park away couldn’t dampen the spirits. Over the next two hours, despite the crowd getting colder and wetter by the song, the band had us in the palm of their hands.
A third and final encore concluded with an abandoned attempt at How To Disappear Completely (organ failure apparently), which was switched for the rarest of rare outings – Creep.
As their drenched hometown crowd roared along with this explosive early outing, everything felt very much in its right place.
11. David Honeyboy Edwards, Bristol, 2003
Down the years, I’ve experienced many ‘pinch me’ moments, but to see Honeyboy Edwards, the last of the Delta blues men, playing in a small bar in Bristol was genuine eye-rubbing wonder.
As well as having performed alongside Big Joe Williams, Charlie Patton and Robert Johnson, Honeyboy was a storyteller par excellence.
And between spellbinding song after spellbinding song, he told us the story of his life. Most notable, was the tale of when he had been with Robert Johnson the night he drank the poisoned whisky that killed him.
After the show we queued in awed silence to meet the great man, feeling very much like we were shaking hands with history itself. I still get shivers.
12. Bob Dylan, Brixton Academy, London, 2005
There’s seeing great artists in intimate settings, and then there’s seeing Bob Dylan at the Brixton Academy. For me, it felt like a home game – I’d been to the Brixton Academy more than pretty much any venue over the previous 20 years and knew the best places to stand, and the best routes for a toilet or bar visit.
For this show, I wasn’t budging an inch.
Dylan had a reputation for being very much a hit and miss performer in the 80s and 90s, a tag that lingered undeserved into the 21st century. I’ve had the displeasure of seeing one of his poor shows (so, so bad), but haven’t seen it rear its head in 30 years.
Over the last few decades, he’s been an older version of the very artist that made him so vital in his youth. To see him is a privilege.
This was a special night with a setlist to match – Maggie’s Farm, Visions of Johana (every verse followed by a rousing ovation), It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding) (ditto), Boots of Spanish Leather, Highway 61 and an encore that kicked off with a verse of The Clash’s London Calling, before closing with Like A Rolling Stone and All Along The Watchtower.
13. Lightnin' Malcolm & Cedric Burnside, Memphis, TN, USA, 2005
There’s a reason I don’t know the name of the venue for this one: I didn’t have a clue where we were. In Tennessee to cover the annual Blues Awards, I’d booked onto a pink Cadillac tour of Memphis juke joints, with local tour guide Tad Pierson of American Dream Safari, and it didn’t disappoint.
We went to a few clubs, and saw some great musicians, but the fourth and final location was the best.
Grandson of blues legend RL Burnside, tub thumper Cedric Burnside had teamed up with guitar slinger Lightnin’ Malcolm to deliver an authentic, relentless blues show that drilled deep into my soul, in a sweltering corrugated iron and wood shack in the middle of nowhere, playing to a house of 8 or 9 drooling punters for tips in a jug.
Nobody else seemed to have realised just how great this was – after all, for the other punters, this was just a normal night at their local. For me, it was like going to Jupiter for the night. I emptied my wallet into that jug.
14. Stax Revue, The Barbican, London, 2005
Bobby Gillespie was next to me in the queue at the gents, Jason Pierce from Spiritualized sat behind me. It was the place to be. The word ‘legend’ is used a lot (even just in this article!), but for one night, the Barbican, that most arty of venues, was home to the stars of the greatest thing ever to come out of Memphis: Stax.
It was like being in a living museum – Eddie Floyd, Mable John, William Bell… William Bell!! And all backed by Booker T & the MGs. It may have been over 40 years late, but at last, I could say I was there when William Bell sang You Don’t Miss Your Water. And that felt legendary to me.
15. Deboson, Havana, Cuba, 2011
In a place so synonymous with its music, it stands to reason that to get a regular booking at one of Havana’s hacienda bars, you have to be pretty good.
So it was that every day of my week in Havana, I pulled up a seat, ordered a rum and coke and watched a virtuoso performance that would rival even the celebrated Buena Vista Social Club.
The fact that the place was full of locals dancing their lunchtime away was proof that this was the real deal.
16. The Beach Boys, Royal Albert Hall, London, 2012
There was a point two or three numbers into the Beach Boys’ 50th anniversary show when frontman Mike Love announced something like “We’re just going to crack on with this as we have over 60 songs to play for you tonight” Like a lot of the crowd that joyful night, I assumed he was joking. He wasn’t.
This was a special night for many reasons – for starters, it featured for the first time in countless years the full line up of Beach Boys – Brian Wilson, Mike Love, Al Jardine, David Marks, Bruce Johnston, Blondie Chaplin, as well as Carl and Dennis Wilson’s vocals being played from concert footage on the big screen for God Only Knows and Forever respectively.
Seeing Brian gazing up at the screen to sing with his deceased brothers was one of many emotionally charged moments.
The standing ovation Brian received for I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times lasted longer than the song itself and the set left nobody wanting. My own highlight? Don’t Worry Baby. The most perfect pop song. Rarely has a band been so loved.
17. Kraftwerk, Tate Modern, London, 2013
“Good evening, Sir, and welcome to Kraftwerk. Help yourself to cushions.” It was a far cry from the rough handling I was familiar with from some venues, but then this wasn’t the usual sort of evening.
Housed in the great turbine hall of London’s iconic Tate Modern gallery (formerly the Bankside power station) , Kraftwerk’s 3D show was both a visual and audio masterclass.
As well as dishing our 3D glasses, speakers were suspended from a framework all around, to create a fully interactive 3D sonic environment for them to deliver a career-spanning set that reminded me why they were surely the greatest electronic group of all time.
The band had insisted the venue not be full, so as to make the experience more enjoyable for those lucky few to have secured tickets (eternal thanks to my friend Richard for offering me his spare!), so I moved around easily, experiencing each song from a difference perspective.
I’ve never experienced anything quite like it.
18. Bo Diddley, The Cheese & Grain, Frome, Somerset, 2008
I was in Frome to watch Half Man Half Biscuit (in itself a good enough reason to be anywhere). Support came in the unlikely but entertaining shape of a local Wurzels tribute act, and between sets, I made use of the facilities.
And that’s when I saw it: “Bo Diddley live in Frome, tickets on sale now at the box office £12 each”. Checking there was no 1st April date on the poster, I quickly washed my hands and hot-footed it to the box office, expecting a queue around the block. But there was nobody. I checked, “Is this actual Bo Diddley? The real one? The American blues man? Here? In concert? £12?” It was.
I bought two tickets and, still shaking, took them to give one to my friend who, with similar disbelief, spoke the immortal words: “He’d better not die before this happens!” and we laughed.
You can probably guess the end of this story. Suffice to say, we never saw Bo Diddley.
19. Paul McCartney, O2, London, 16 December 2018
I’d seen him before (as you know), on more than one occasion, but in the 25 years since I’d last been to a McCartney show, something unexpected happened: he’d got better. A lot better, in fact. Despite his clearly advancing years, Paul had refined the show until it was non-stop thrills.
Love Me Do, Here Today, Blackbird, Live & Let Die (with full pyrotechnics) and, as it was Christmas, a children’s choir came out of the (ahem) wings to deliver Wonderful Christmastime.
But like all good showmen, he kept the best until (almost last). There to review the show for a magazine, I had been given a seat among the stars (Paul’s children were in the same block as me so I knew I was doing all right), and I’d seen Ringo Starr being shown to his seat just before showtime.
But that didn’t prepare me for when he got up to join his former bandmate on stage, alongside Ronnie Wood. So there it was –half of the Beatles, playing Get Back, with a Rolling Stone thrown in for good measure. The Beatles and the Stones, live, right before my eyes. It was beyond my wildest dreams.
All pics Getty Images
Top image Paul McCartney performing on stage in Germany in 1991
