As the years have progressed, I find myself enjoying the storytelling variety of comedian more than the joke teller. I prefer Daniel Kitson or Reginald D. Hunter to Jimmy Carr or Peter Kay for example. (Ok, bad example, as I really fucking hate Jimmy Carr and Peter Kay, but you get my drift). But I still have a fondness for the comedy of Emo Philips. He’s a little bit surreal, a little bit crazy, and while not always laugh out loud funny, there’s a joke in pretty much every line.
This was my first visit to the Edinburgh festival, and I wasn’t really sure what to expect. What Denis M and I encountered was a bit chaotic, but pretty entertaining as well. As is standard at the festival, Emo played for an hour, although we saw him outside the venue too, as he walked in past the queue of people waiting to see him.
The only gag I remember from this show was when he asked a young boy in the front row to join him on stage for a bit. The kid was a bit reluctant to go, but was persuaded when he was told, “Go on… it’s ok… I’m not Michael Jackson.” (That joke was current in 1993).
Here’s a clip of Emo from a couple of years earlier…
Was he still called Prince in 1993? Or was he The Artist Formerly Known as Prince by this point? Or was it Victor, or Steve or something else? I can’t actually remember, but the ticket says Prince & the New Power Generation, so I’m gonna assume he was still Prince at this point.
I was a mad Prince fan in the early 90s, and had missed his show at Celtic Park in 1992 cos I was on holiday, so I was desperate to go to this one when I found out about it. I managed to persuade Mark C that he wanted to go too (even though he apparently wanted his first outdoor show to be U2 the following month) and we duly travelled through to Edinburgh.
After queuing for ages to get in, the first support act, a terrible Scottish dance act called TTF (remember them?) came on around 5pm. They then went off again sometime around 5.03pm due to technical difficulties. I’m not saying that them being shite had anything to do with them going off after three minutes, but something was shining on the audience that day, and it wasn’t just the sun. The other support was the one-hit-wonder-tastic 4 Non Blondes, who performed a bunch of forgettable songs then finished with What’s Up? Linda Perry has written some fantastic songs since then, including a bunch for Christina Aguilera, so I reckon it’s a shame that her own band couldn’t have come up with a few more memorable ones.
Then came Prince.
Over the years, I’ve kinda built this gig up in my head as an amazing spectacle, full of amazing moments. The first one was his entrance, when Prince was lowered on to the stage on a swing, wearing a black robe, his face shrouded by gold chains, performing My Name is Prince. There was another at the end of that song, as he drops the robe to reveal that it’s not him at all, but it’s actually his 18 year old girlfriend/dancer, who is now wearing just a pink bikini. (I also remember Mark C’s tongue hanging out at that particular moment as well). There was the stunning version of Little Red Corvette on the piano, and the crowd singing along during the 10 minute Purple Rain.
I managed to find a bootleg recording of this show a couple of years ago, and gave it another listen recently. There were bits I’d completely forgotten about, like the bizarre Arabian section, and there were bits I remembered, like the funked up version of Kiss, and the amazing Purple Rain. But what struck me most of all was that it didn’t seem as incredible as my memory of it. It was still good, but not as blinding as I had thought it was that day, and I wondered why that was. I mean, obviously a bootleg isn’t going to be as good as actually being there, as there’s a disconnect… but there was something else. Am I less of a Prince fan now? Yes. Am I older now, and less easily impressed? Undoubtedly. Or was it purely that it just wasn’t as good as my mind had tricked me into believing over the years? Yeah, that’s probably the one. It was my first proper gig, though, so I suppose that’s understandable.
There are two things about the era of this gig that I really miss. The first is the souvenir ticket. Even where they weren’t printed with a picture of the artist, they would usually have the band logo on there so you immediately knew who the ticket was for. You don’t get that these days with Ticketmaster or similar doing all the ticket selling. The other thing is that we bought our tickets for this gig about a fortnight before it took place. We didn’t have to be on the phones at 9am on the day the tickets went on sale, and they weren’t all snapped up by touts. The internet has brought many great things, but for me these are two things that it’s taken away.
I’ve tried to find some clips of Prince in performance on YouTube, but he’s pretty litigious when it comes to stuff like that, so I had no luck. So instead, here’s a couple of tunes from this bootleg of this gig. Enjoy them while the lawyers don’t know they’re here…
The first music gig I ever went to. I won tickets to this show on Radio Clyde, the Sunday before the gig. Well, I say “won” - it was actually more like “was given” as there was no competition involved. The tickets weren’t exactly selling like hotcakes, so the first 10 people to phone the station got a pair of tickets. (Time hasn’t been kind to the ticket, as you can see below. You can just about make out Eddie Floyd’s name on there, if you squint hard enough.)
John B and I headed along to the Pavilion to see a living legend: the guy who gave us Knock on Wood. To be honest, I can’t actually remember much about the gig, other than the fact that he was pretty good, and the support act were Big Vern & The Shootas. (Think The Blues Brothers, but with technicolour suits).Anyway, here’s a clip of Eddie performing his best known song on Jools Holland’s Hootenany on New Years Eve 2007.
Well, what can I say about Bill Hicks that hasn’t already been said? Was he a genius? Possibly. Was he funny? Absolutely. Is he missed? Yes.
But would he have sold out? Well, who knows…
Bill Hicks made quite an impression on my teenage self when I first saw his Relentless show on Channel 4 in early 1992. I was captivated from start to finish, and when I found out he was playing in Glasgow I had to get myself along to see him. I talked a bunch of people into coming along (Eddie M, Paul D, John B, Mark C, and Ramond K) and picked up some tickets.
I’ve kept most tickets from the gigs/shows I’ve seen over the years (as you’ll discover if you come back to read some more), but the one I regret not keeping is this one. If only to prove to people that I was actually there to see him in person. Although, to be fair, no one has doubted me. The reaction (from Hicks fans anyway) is usually, “Wow… what was it like?” And the answer is that it was pretty much like you see on the videos or hear on the CDs, but with added digs at Rangers fans.
He’d also stopped smoking by this point, which caused some friction with the audience. Someone kept throwing cigarettes on to the stage till he picked one up. He took a long look at it, and said, “Huh… this one has B & H written on it… that’s how much I smoked: they even named some of them after me.”
I’ll leave you with some words from Bill himself (this is from the Revelations show, which was filmed around the same time as the gig at the Pavilion).
Popularly known as the unfunny pair from The Mary Whitehouse Experience, I always preferred Punt & Dennis to their cooler brethren. For a start, they actually performed as a double-act, which Newman & Baddiel only did now and again (for things like the History Today segments). Also, they knew they were the uncool pair, and didn’t try to hide it.
This was a hilarious show… from what I remember, the only time I stopped laughing was at the interval, and even then I kept laughing while watching Paul D try to manoeuvre himself down the exceptionally steep stairs of the Pavilion’s Upper Balcony.
As well as a whole load of material that wasn’t shown on telly, all the hits from TMWE were here, including Mr Strange (the Milky Milky guy), dancing like your dad, and Hugh’s Teddy…
I remember buying the video of this tour when it came out too, and it never got old. For years afterwards, Eddie M and I were repeating random lines of dialogue, like “Pop!”, “Oh p-p-p-pick up a penguin! Oh f-f-f-fuck off!” and “Don’t follow me, or you’ll end up at my house.” to each other.
Incidentally, we also tried to get tickets for Baddiel & Newman (at the same venue a couple of weeks later) but it was sold out. Told you they were cooler. I did manage to see Rob Newman many years later, but have never seen David Baddiel, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, as he’s now been the unfunny one in two different double-acts (with Messrs Newman and Skinner).
