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...and some came from abroad! Well, Inverness anyway. Operation Minibus was on yesterday, a folly consisting of trying to get 16 Cribs fans from the North West to Coventry for a 'warm up' gig at a nightclub called the Kasbah.
A guy calling himself KnackeredConverseBen posted on the Cribs forum back in March to say that there would be an 'intimate' gig at the nightclub where he was the booker, and told us that we could have £200 towards a minibus if we got one down. How I got involved I don't quite remember but it could be something to do with the fact that I'm a busybody Queen of Entropy. So, three months later, after cancellations, swapping about and a last minute double booking by a complete fool from Advance Travel Leeds, I was stood at Oxford Road station in Manchester waiting for two people I'd never met before to get on this 16 seater to oblivion. Luckily neither of them were murderers, one had come all the way from Inverness on a coach to be here, and the other had come from Sainsburys, rather less impressively.
Most people were getting on at Leeds, a random assortment of forumers and their assorted friends, all of them thoroughly nice people. 'The Cribs' went on the CD player, and after a stop for birthday cake at the service station (more of that later) we were outside the Kasbah looking like weirdos as we had an impromptu buffet served from the minibus step.
Moving to the more traditional picnicking arena of a grass verge we sat eating sausage rolls, pringles and scotch eggs, being eyed cautiously by the scenesters making their way into the venue. Kelly Cherrypicks was due to turn 24 at midnight so we sang to her and after a few lethally strong vodka and lemonades in plassy cups we went inside, amazingly getting past 'security' with a pro digital SLR camera and a digital voice recorder!
The Kasbah is pleasing to the eye but the queues at the bar were ridiculous, the bar staff stretched to their limits and the beer was so expensive that it formed the only topic of conversation for the assembled crowds. There was a chorus of "How much?!" every time someone got served which must have been fun for the barman. The venue is absolutely rammed and we've already been split up into two splinter groups so some of us start off upstairs where there's a bit more room and you can actually still see the stage if you don't mind it being slightly blurry through some tinted glass. After Kelly hassles some bouncers they open up the balcony doors and we havethe best view in the house from stage right.
Shrag are excellent, full of bounce and madness and the front row are responding to it. Later me and Kelly saw the girls in the toilet and let out a girly cry of 'Hi Shrag!' to which they replied "Hi!" in unison and we all collapsed into giggles like a missing scene from Sex and the City.
When The Cribs finally make the stage Ryan whacks his head on the doorway before they launch into Bovine. By now there are many more people on the balcony and we're having to do a stupid balancing act with two half pints of lager because the bar has run out of plastic pint glasses. I've never seen the pit at a Cribs gig from above before but it looked like a swarm of crazy, sweating bees and I was glad I wasn't down there getting bounced around like Ms Pacman. As Danny Glover once said, I'm getting too old for this shit.
The setlist is awesome, dropping in bsides and storming through most of MNWNW and The New Fellas. I hear the familiar chugging of one of my favourites, North of England, and Ryan announces 'This is for the cool people'. I translate this into 'This is for the minibus people' and it sounds twice as good. Everything's going brilliantly until Gary says "I can't do this anymore, I'm just being honest. It's nothing to do with this band but just me personally. I can't do this anymore.' Donna and I stare at each other with that 'Did I just hear right?' look, and the crowd boos. As the guys start playing again there's a real buzz of confusion which doesn't subside until Be Safe calms everyone down with the dulcit tones of Mr Ranaldo and his funny pipe. Be Safe is such a great song that it should inspire great works of art, symphonies and architectural wonders but for lack of brushes, instruments and blueprints everyone just points and jabs the air.
As the boys wander off stage everyone is cheering extra hard in the wake of Gary's comments (or Gary-gate as it came to be known on the forum today), in case this is the last we see of them. Then the DJ comes on and tells us all he'll be playing songs until we all drop dead so we bag a nice booth on the balcony and submit to the ultra-priced bar. We've been told there's an aftershow but it seems to consist of what we in the real world would call a club night. Just around the time this kicks off I go looking for Ben the promoter because he owes me the £200 I have paid for the minibus. Strangely he's nowhere to be found and no-one knows where he is. I wonder if he's some kind of mythical figure and then I notice that one of Team Jarman is outside, having been thrown out for being too young. Now, we were never made aware of the fact that under 18s weren't allowed in the venue after the gig, what are they supposed to do, round them up and do DNA testing? Anyway I have an altercation with the bouncer, who I would describe as a neanderthal except for the fact that neanderthals had the brain power to use simple stone tools and this bloke would struggle with a twig and some berries.
Eventually Ben appears and it's a Wizard of Oz moment as I realise he's about 19 and incredibly affable. We sort out our bit of business (Ben = ace bloke) and I am escorted off the premises by another security guard, seemingly for the crime of talking back to a knuckle dragging simpleton in a bomber jacket. After a last minute sweep for stray Team Jarman members me and Melissa head out looking for cheap booze houses who don't much care about ID. We find a dodgy looking 'student wine bar' and settle in with two hammered regulars, the rastafarian landlord and four Cribs fans from Manchester who've been chucked out for smoking in the beer garden. The Kasbah's a nice place but they need to sort out their security, it comes to something when even the band on stage have to interrupt the gig to tell them to leave their fans alone.
Back on the minibus we're heading for home and Kelly's distributing birthday cake (actually it was chocolate logs but that was all I could get from the service station). After a while everyone's napping on each others shoulders even though some of them have only met a few hours ago. We drop most of the busers off at Leeds station and by 4.30 I'm back at my hotel and Rob and Mikey are off to Oxford Rd and hopefully then Inverness.
Some of them came from the North of England and some came from abroad
A guy calling himself KnackeredConverseBen posted on the Cribs forum back in March to say that there would be an 'intimate' gig at the nightclub where he was the booker, and told us that we could have £200 towards a minibus if we got one down. How I got involved I don't quite remember but it could be something to do with the fact that I'm a busybody Queen of Entropy. So, three months later, after cancellations, swapping about and a last minute double booking by a complete fool from Advance Travel Leeds, I was stood at Oxford Road station in Manchester waiting for two people I'd never met before to get on this 16 seater to oblivion. Luckily neither of them were murderers, one had come all the way from Inverness on a coach to be here, and the other had come from Sainsburys, rather less impressively.
Most people were getting on at Leeds, a random assortment of forumers and their assorted friends, all of them thoroughly nice people. 'The Cribs' went on the CD player, and after a stop for birthday cake at the service station (more of that later) we were outside the Kasbah looking like weirdos as we had an impromptu buffet served from the minibus step.
Moving to the more traditional picnicking arena of a grass verge we sat eating sausage rolls, pringles and scotch eggs, being eyed cautiously by the scenesters making their way into the venue. Kelly Cherrypicks was due to turn 24 at midnight so we sang to her and after a few lethally strong vodka and lemonades in plassy cups we went inside, amazingly getting past 'security' with a pro digital SLR camera and a digital voice recorder!
The Kasbah is pleasing to the eye but the queues at the bar were ridiculous, the bar staff stretched to their limits and the beer was so expensive that it formed the only topic of conversation for the assembled crowds. There was a chorus of "How much?!" every time someone got served which must have been fun for the barman. The venue is absolutely rammed and we've already been split up into two splinter groups so some of us start off upstairs where there's a bit more room and you can actually still see the stage if you don't mind it being slightly blurry through some tinted glass. After Kelly hassles some bouncers they open up the balcony doors and we havethe best view in the house from stage right.
Shrag are excellent, full of bounce and madness and the front row are responding to it. Later me and Kelly saw the girls in the toilet and let out a girly cry of 'Hi Shrag!' to which they replied "Hi!" in unison and we all collapsed into giggles like a missing scene from Sex and the City.
When The Cribs finally make the stage Ryan whacks his head on the doorway before they launch into Bovine. By now there are many more people on the balcony and we're having to do a stupid balancing act with two half pints of lager because the bar has run out of plastic pint glasses. I've never seen the pit at a Cribs gig from above before but it looked like a swarm of crazy, sweating bees and I was glad I wasn't down there getting bounced around like Ms Pacman. As Danny Glover once said, I'm getting too old for this shit.
The setlist is awesome, dropping in bsides and storming through most of MNWNW and The New Fellas. I hear the familiar chugging of one of my favourites, North of England, and Ryan announces 'This is for the cool people'. I translate this into 'This is for the minibus people' and it sounds twice as good. Everything's going brilliantly until Gary says "I can't do this anymore, I'm just being honest. It's nothing to do with this band but just me personally. I can't do this anymore.' Donna and I stare at each other with that 'Did I just hear right?' look, and the crowd boos. As the guys start playing again there's a real buzz of confusion which doesn't subside until Be Safe calms everyone down with the dulcit tones of Mr Ranaldo and his funny pipe. Be Safe is such a great song that it should inspire great works of art, symphonies and architectural wonders but for lack of brushes, instruments and blueprints everyone just points and jabs the air.
As the boys wander off stage everyone is cheering extra hard in the wake of Gary's comments (or Gary-gate as it came to be known on the forum today), in case this is the last we see of them. Then the DJ comes on and tells us all he'll be playing songs until we all drop dead so we bag a nice booth on the balcony and submit to the ultra-priced bar. We've been told there's an aftershow but it seems to consist of what we in the real world would call a club night. Just around the time this kicks off I go looking for Ben the promoter because he owes me the £200 I have paid for the minibus. Strangely he's nowhere to be found and no-one knows where he is. I wonder if he's some kind of mythical figure and then I notice that one of Team Jarman is outside, having been thrown out for being too young. Now, we were never made aware of the fact that under 18s weren't allowed in the venue after the gig, what are they supposed to do, round them up and do DNA testing? Anyway I have an altercation with the bouncer, who I would describe as a neanderthal except for the fact that neanderthals had the brain power to use simple stone tools and this bloke would struggle with a twig and some berries.
Eventually Ben appears and it's a Wizard of Oz moment as I realise he's about 19 and incredibly affable. We sort out our bit of business (Ben = ace bloke) and I am escorted off the premises by another security guard, seemingly for the crime of talking back to a knuckle dragging simpleton in a bomber jacket. After a last minute sweep for stray Team Jarman members me and Melissa head out looking for cheap booze houses who don't much care about ID. We find a dodgy looking 'student wine bar' and settle in with two hammered regulars, the rastafarian landlord and four Cribs fans from Manchester who've been chucked out for smoking in the beer garden. The Kasbah's a nice place but they need to sort out their security, it comes to something when even the band on stage have to interrupt the gig to tell them to leave their fans alone.
Back on the minibus we're heading for home and Kelly's distributing birthday cake (actually it was chocolate logs but that was all I could get from the service station). After a while everyone's napping on each others shoulders even though some of them have only met a few hours ago. We drop most of the busers off at Leeds station and by 4.30 I'm back at my hotel and Rob and Mikey are off to Oxford Rd and hopefully then Inverness.
Some of them came from the North of England and some came from abroad
