Friday, 27 September 2019

1,153 THE CHESTERFIELDS, Rodney Allen, Dai Nichi, Bristol Louisiana, Sunday 22nd September 2019



Hmmm, where to start with this one, on a night where old ghosts – sometimes literally! – seemed to crawl out of the walls…

The Chesterfields for me epitomised the mid-eighties C86 movement, their fresh-faced, buoyant and effervescent ramshackle pop making them the archetypal zeitgeist-catching DIY/fanzine band du jour. I’d seen them 9 ace, mainly alcohol-fuelled times between 1987 and 89, usually with the not-so-big-back-then Big Man by my side – or at the bar getting the round in…! Fluid of line-up, a split between founder members and co-singer-songwriters Simon Barber and Dave Goldsworthy heralded a slow demise for the band, and the tragic death of Goldsworthy in 2003 – victim of an apparent hit-and-run – seemed to put paid to there ever being a 10th time “live” for me. However, news of an ersatz Chesterfields line-up, put together by Barber and featuring Andy Strickland of 80’s contemporaries the Caretaker Race, playing the 2016 International Pop Overthrow Festival, put them back on my watchlist, then finally a proper tour brought them home to Bristol – well, fairly close to their actual home of Yeovil – so I was there, again with The Big Man by my side!

Jason joined us too, so I picked the boys up after a Brixham weekend, getting the drinks in at The Louisiana’s downstairs pub on arrival. We largely decided against checking out openers Dai Nichi, which worked well for us, as the couple of numbers we did see were horribly amateurish. One time the diminutive vocalist apologised for a mid-song ricket, and I thought, which one… From the ridiculous to the sublime, however, with main support Rodney Allen. The “one man-cub and his guitar” of the Tropic support, waaaay back in 1987 (gig 83!), he now sports Reed Richards greying temples but still had the enthusiasm, charm and Weller/Bragg-esque delivery of yore. The achingly yearning kitchen sink drama of “Tell Me On Saturday”, the bolshy “That’s Entertainment”-alike observational “HappySad” and the fun flourish of “The Moped Song”; all familiar numbers from those 80’s days, that he apparently wrote, “when I was 16, and I’m now a man of 50-something!” Some fun, flippant chat too, but the most memorable moment was a bouncy yet poignant reading of The Chesterfields’ “Love Mountain”, for “the one person who couldn’t be here – Davey”. Nuff said.

Great stuff, so I stopped back after a loo break for a brief chat with Rodney, who was downstairs chatting to a young man with naggingly familiar features… I complimented him on his Davey tribute, and he then knocked me sideways by introducing his friend with, “this is Joseph!” Davey’s son, subject of Davey’s “Hopes For Lauren Or Joseph” song, and a man whom we actually toasted the birth of, at the Kentish Town Forum gig (no.100) back in May 1988! No wonder those features seemed familiar… Thankfully, he took my surprise, and subsequent tributes to his dad, with great equanimity. Chip off the old block, indeed…!

Back upstairs and in a spot near the front for The Chesterfields, tuning up onstage. Simon Barber, sole remaining original member, now bald, bearded and be-suited, led his charges gently into opener “Shame About The Rain”, the version slower and almost textural in comparison to the plaintive jangle-pop version of yore. Indeed, early doors this seemed the norm, the band slowly feeling their way into the material, the gig vibe feeling slow-burn and understated despite its’ near-hometown status. “We’re The Chesterfields,” announced Andy Strickland, “we have to say that as we played in Birmingham and Spear Of Destiny [our Tuesday hosts, ironically enough!] were next door – we had some strange people in the house!”

“We’ve had a wonderful week [this being the last date of a 7-date tour] and a wonderful way to remember Davey,” commented Simon before “Girl On A Boat”, the first number they wrote together. Andy then took lead for a Caretaker Race number, before “Fool Is A Man” really saw The Chesterfields step up a gear, with added toughness and conviction finally aligned to their Byrdsian jangle and upbeat bounce. The sharp descending riffery of “Last Train To Yeovil” saw Simon reference the “Milk Train” (caught that myself a few times, back in the day!); “Johnny Dee” was an absorbing slow burner, really taking flight into the final chorus, and an almost mature-sounding “Completely And Utterly”, more melodic and less brash than the original, ended the “set”, although the band ploughed onwards, through to final encore “Sweet Revenge”, sung by Simon’s brother Mark Barber, who also saw time with The Chesterfields. By that time I was bopping down the front, and, rather surreally, shoulder to shoulder with Joseph and signing lustily along to his dad’s songs. I hope Davey was looking down on us and grinning…



Hung fire afterwards for chats with Mark and Simon, who remembered us from those 80’s days, which was nice, then home after a fine way to finally get to my 10th with The Chesterfields. Although, am I wrong to think that my enduring memory of this one will be meeting Joseph and seeing his dad’s features staring back at me? RIP Davey Chesterfield; you’re missed, but thank you for an excellent musical legacy.

No comments:

Post a Comment