by Twizzle » Mon Apr 01, 2013 12:18 am
My first big concert was to see Bowie when he first brought Ziggy Stardust to the Green’s Playhouse in 1972. Either he still wasn’t well known in Glasgow, or I was quick off the mark in buying my ticket, but I ended up with a front row seat. I went on my own as I hadn’t admitted to any of my friends that I liked him or his music, but at the concert half my school was there.
On stage there was a moog synthesiser, and the amp stacks seemed to reach up to the ceiling. They played the theme to “A Clockwork Orange” as the band came onstage. The lights distorted the colours on his jumpsuit, but there was no mistaking his spiky red hair. Bowie started messing about with the moog for a few moments then they romped into “Hang on to yourself”.
In the first break between songs he looked over the front row. “Are any of you at school?” We all roared back. He swanked like an early version of Kenny Everett’s Cupid Stunt “Do you believe in education? - Then educate me!” At one stage during a song he climbed right up to the top of one of the amp stacks. They wobbled menacingly, towering above us. The familiar songs played live by the band sounded raw but somehow more vital than on the album. Bowie moved like a confident reptile, stalking us all. In the front, he sought us out with piercing eye contact and aimed his lyrics directly at our souls. It was like a religious experience. A rock version of Billy Graham. He used all his Lyndsay Kemp mime routines and melted the hardest Glasgow heart.
The lighting was clever for its time – during the long guitar break during “The Width of a Circle” they strobed the stage from either side alternatively. As Ronson and Boulder strutted and posed, taking great strides, they were caught in exaggerated three dimensions, their costumes glittering wildly. On hearing my excited account of the experience, a cynical friend suggested that as it had been my first rock concert, I was bound to have been impressed. In truth, of the subsequent concerts I have been to, this one made the most profound and lasting memories.
In 1973 Bowie came back to what was now called the Apollo with his Alladin Sane tour. I sauntered down to Cutherbertsons on the corner of Cambridge Street and Sauchiehall Street to buy my ticket. To my annoyance, his fame had caused what looked like a queue for tickets out the door, which I joined. Shortly afterwards, I heard a commotion on the other side of Cambridge Street behind me. To my horror I saw that the queue continued there and stretched right up Sauchiehall Street as far as the eye could see. Someone had tried to jump the queue and was being pulled out with police with dogs. How I managed to also jump this queue without the same happening to me is a mystery. Maybe because I was on my own, they thought I was joining a group of friends.
There couldn’t have been that many in front of me, as I got a seat in the second row this time. The Alladin Sane production was much bigger, with a themed set, more musicians and dancers. Although the music, costumes and performance were more polished and stage-managed, for me they lacked the vitality of the Ziggy gig.
If I am allowed a “runner up”, I would choose a Hollies concert in the unlikely setting of the Pavilion Theatre in the 1980s. They played solidly for over two hours and every song had been a hit. Some of the original records had seemed a bit thin and tinny, perhaps due to the sound recording facilities of the day not being as good as some of the bigger groups, but live they sounded vibrant and as good as they could be. They were all still in good voice, and their harmonies soared. I hadn’t realised Tony Hicks was such an accomplished guitarist. A memorable concert.