Showing posts with label Sheffield. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sheffield. Show all posts

Thursday, May 18, 2023

Bewitching . . .

So Blur's forthcoming new album is entitled The Ballad of Darren, and the two Darren's are going head to head at Hillsborough.

Who knew Darren would be making a comeback in 2023?



Tuesday, October 12, 2021

Freak Out the Squares: Life in a band called Pulp by Russell Senior (Aurum Press 2015)


 

I was living in a flat above a sex shop with a girl who had a bit of a BĂ©atrice Dalle thing going on and was the object of much pining amongst local musicians, including Jarvis. In a bid to impress her, he climbed Artery-style out of the window and made his way along the ledge, only to fall twenty feet onto the pavement in front of the sex shop – his broken glasses and splayed limbs serving as a dire warning on the dangers of pornography to several adolescent boys who had been plucking up the courage to go in.

It seemed touch and go for a bit, he’d broken his hip and was in hospital for a while, then moved out into residential care. But he slowly improved and was able to come out in a wheelchair. We had to cancel a couple of shows but he gamely did the rest in his wheelchair.

I shamelessly milked the mishap for all it was worth and took Jarvis down to London to do press, which included a surreal photo shoot pushing him round a skateboard park in the chair.

For the next show at The Clarendon, London, we brought a coach party down from Sheffield. The trip down to London was always filled with expectation. On the way into the metropolis, the excitement mounted: there were famous people just walking down the street, bold as brass. Rover always seemed to spot Oliver Reed just disappearing into a pub and demand that the van stop, but no one else ever saw him. It was probably just wishful thinking on Rover’s part, like the time when he went past Felicity Kendall in the street and she ‘gave him the eye’. Can’t remember the concert, it got some reviews.

Never one to avoid advancing the greater glory of Pulp by resorting to bad taste, I cut out a picture from a Romania Today, 1968 magazine of a forlorn man wired up with electrodes – onto which I drew broken glasses to make it look like Jarvis.

Friday, July 04, 2008

Yesterday Once More

The 5P music blog brings the blogosphere news of why July 3rd, 1982 was the most important day in the history of eighties:

  • Best album of the eighties reached its rightful place.
  • Best number one single of the eighties drove a welcome wedge between Stevie Wonder (with Macca) and Survivor stateside.
  • On the same day, a Norwich band by the name of The Happy Few did a Peel Session - which you can hear here - and I thought I was Eder* when kicking a ball six hours a day . . . and I probably needed my haircut.

    A day late but that don't matter: what the hell ever happens on July 4th anyway?

    Footnote

    *July 3rd 1982 was the day after Brazil had dismantled Argentina 3-1, to put the holders out of the World Cup. July 5th was still to come.