Wednesday 5 March 2014

Rubble n Shit #3 (part one)

It's early 2001. I've just turned 18. While everyone else is gearing up to finish sixth form and making plans for uni, I'm locked away in my bedroom frantically cutting n pasting about the bands I love, the gigs I've been to and the music I'm hooked on. I work full-time in a factory packing toys for minimum wage - £3.50 for 18 - 21 year-olds at that time - which gives me enough money to stalk the bands I love and put a zine together.

It's strange re-reading this as a (mostly) sensible 30-something. I miss the days when I could just drop everything to head off to a gig in Bath, Manchester, London or wherever else I fancied. I still do go to gigs in other cities from time to time, but these have to be strategically planned due to work commitments and limited finances.

Also, I can't believe how many gigs I've forgotten about. I've been to so many over the years that I have no recollection of some of them. Last year I was convinced I'd never seen Jimmy Eat World live, so I was pretty chuffed when I saw they'd been added to the Download festival line-up at Donington Park. Halfway through their first song it dawned on me that I'd seen them before, supporting Weezer at the Shepherd's Bush Empire in 2001. Later, when I was going through my ticket stubs, I discovered I'd seen them again at Rock City, Nottingham, around 2002. Idiot.

While I can remember going to the Dog Toffee, Feeder and Manic Street Preachers gigs that feature in this issue, I couldn't actually remember anything about them. It's been good fun looking back at what I'd forgotten, I just wish I had a zine review of all the gigs I've been to over the years.










Until I read this gig review of the Manics at the Apollo the only memory I had of that trip was the appalling b&b we stayed in across the road from the venue. It was freezing, we had a broken window in our room and there was a shared bathroom. On the plus side, it was full of Manics fans, who left a trail of multi-coloured feathers on the stairs and along the corridors as their feather boas malted everywhere. I think my feather boa of choice was black for that gig.










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