The
2018 gigging year started with a Frank Turner gig, but not the one I was
anticipating… scarcely believable news broke at the end of last November, that
Frank Turner, as part of a (very) low-key series of solo shows as a “thank you”
to promoters who helped him on the way up, was going to play Swindon’s Level 3,
my 80’s and 90’s “spiritual home”! Given that Lev holds 350 at a squeeze, and
the first time I saw Frank was at the 8,000 capacity Cardiff Motorpoint, demand
was going to seriously outstrip
supply, no messin’… I sought permission from my boss to try nonetheless, and
had 4 web pages open for the ticket agency 5 minutes before the appointed hour
of 10 a.m.; one went into the “Buy Tickets” page, then I got the spinning
circle of death for a couple of minutes, followed by a message saying
insufficient tickets were available, thence being unceremoniously turfed out to
the front page, now bearing a “sold out” legend. At 3 minutes past 10… Fuckity
fuck fuck fuckington!
Salt
was rubbed into the wound by news that Level 3 was closing down after the show,
thereby depriving me of a chance to say one final farewell to the old place;
however a small glimmer of hope for some Frank face time came with the news
that he was planning to make a signing appearance at recently-opened Old Town
vinyl emporium RPM Records that afternoon. Hotfoot it up there instead,
methought… however, a hiccup to that came with the announcement that he was
going to play a short set (yay!) but it would only be open to people who’d
already bought Frank’s current “Songbook” compilation record from RPM (boo!).
I’d not done that, intending to do so on the day, but a phone call to immensely
accommodating RPM proprietor Gregg at least got me the record bought and a
“queue jump” promise, which might develop into more if there was room…
Fingers
crossed, Rach dropped Logan and I off at 2.30, an hour before Frank was due to
play his set. Quiet early doors, but we whiled away the time with a nose
through the racks, unearthing some gems which I’ll definitely go back for when
I get a record deck again – hopefully soon! Queued up outside thereafter as
Frank turned up to set up, then, after the lucky few were allowed in, RPM co-owner
Karrie checked the capacity and luckily there was room to squeeze a few more
into the shop – so we were in! Double yay!
“Good
afternoon Swindon… c’mon, a town that can cope with The Magic Roundabout can
make more noise than that!” announced Frank at the appointed 3.30 hour, kicking
his performance off with a melancholy yet pointedly observational newie “Don’t
Worry”, boding well for some barbed and acerbic lyrics about the currently
crappy state of the world on his new album, mayhap? A raucous “Recovery”
followed, and from my front row, stage left spot leaning against the racks (to
keep an eye on Logan, who joined the other kids sitting on the floor right at
the front) I was struck by just how loud Frank sang – a real full-on, lung-bursting,
neck-bulging, lionesque yet completely tuneful roar, and the packed audience
responded in kind, everyone swept up in the all-inclusive mood. Frank then
regaled us with a story of his old hardcore band Million Dead supporting
Pitchshifter at Level 3 (then The Furnace), a disastrous stagedive during said
gig taking a chunk out of his face and prompting him to grow the beard which he
sports to this day! “Love Forty Down” and a brilliantly hushed and poignant “I
Am Disappeared” followed, before Frank then offered to “hang out” afterwards
after playing one more number to ensure this performance met his two criteria
for counting as an official show; one – the audience outnumbers the performers
(“which hasn’t always happened!”) and two – at least 5 numbers are played. So,
this was “show 2129!” the qualifying fifth number being a request from the RPM
Records owners’ daughter, also happily Logan’s favourite “Photosynthesis” which
he sang along lustily to! This was a wonderful way to end a superb strident
set, everyone taking a seat then leaping up at the, “I won’t sit down…!” final
hook. Brilliant!
That
wasn’t it, though, as Frank then made good on his promise to hang out. And I’m
pleased to report that rumours about Frank Turner being one of the nicest guys
in rock were proven to be totally true. After a wait, we got to chat and get
pix with the great man, Frank greeting Logan with a high five and commenting
that his singing along down the front was, “one of the best things about the
gig”! A chat about Gaz Brookfield and Logan’s nascent gigging days ensued,
Frank also commenting in wonder about my gigbook Volume XIV that I’d taken
along for him to sing a couple of set-lists, “wow, I wish I’d done [something
like] that!” Our turn reluctantly ended and we bade farewell, then ran into my
friend (and Frank uber-fan) Rich Carter in The Tuppenny next door for further
confirmation of Frank’s general niceness; after receiving a message, Frank had
earlier popped into the Hospital to hang out with on-call paramedic Rich before
this show. Wow!
Home,
then on the sofa with the missus and a couple of episodes of “Peaky Blinders”
for me tonight while Frank wowed the capacity crowd at Level 3. However, thanks
to the wonderful people at RPM Records, my shining little man and Frank
himself, I wouldn’t have swapped my Frank Turner experience earlier for a Level
3 front row spot!
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