Archive for November 4th, 2006

Spookey – Gaz’s Rockin’ Blues Club (02 November 2006)

This is a weird place. Some basement club made up like the inside of a wedding cake hidden in the heart of Soho. It is the type of warren of anterooms and chambers that would have my mother apoplectic abut the fire exit provision. Even by the standards of central London the staff aren’t even downright ignorant, just out-and-out nasty. (Except for the honourable exception of the bouncer who was a completely lovely and bang-on chap.) So, one more place that looked like a good idea for new ‘regular’ hang-out on my trips down the smoke scrubbed off the list nearly quicker than it took to write there in the first place. (Every time I’m down, yet another is usually shut down. The premier division – Goldsmith’s Tavern, The King’s head, The Lyric – are all gone. Now, I’m beginning to watch the lesser ones closing. This trip it was the Intrepid Fox. Admittedly, a place that was crap and over-priced, but the clientele often made me wet myself laughing.)

Anyway, this diversion from the point at hand is purely because I don’t really know what else I can add about Spookey. Completely serendipitously I find that I can be in London the night they play (edit – this proves extra fortunate as the Glasgow gig goes tits up the day before). And, they are completely awesome. If anything, the fairly constant touring is making them a sleaker tighter unit. For a change (as sloppy amateurism was never part of their schtick) this is a good thing.

Possibly one of the greatest lyrics of all time* is from The Modern LoversRoadrunner:

I’m in love with rock ‘n’ roll
And, I’ll be out all night

I’ve been offered a couch to kip on. Folk know not to expect me until late. But, tonight there’s no need for sleep. I wander the late night streets of the city, just looking for something – anything. I find it in numerous bunches of bus-missed folk happy to natter or go for a coffee with a huge hairy Glaswegian stranger (can’t work out which of us was the most foolhardy). I find it in just standing watching the sun rise over the skyline from the bouncy bridge. In the hip-hop dance off outside Liverpool St station. Spookey play the kind of rock ‘n’ roll Mr Richman was referring to. The proper stuff that makes life worth all the crap. This is not unique, just sadly more rare these days than ever.

Of course, later on when the lack of sleep hits me…

*You can tell this is a great lyric, because it looks like nothing on paper (or, in this instance, screen) but once heard in situ, never forgotten.


Written by Tony Kiernan

04 November 2006 at 12:57 pm

Posted in Gigs