Heart of a Punk Soul of a Rasta

Morrissey & the Arthounds
/All the Young
Victoria Hall, Hanley
5th July 2011

In these unenlightened times when communal singing has largely been excreted into the dustbin of history, when the football supporter would much rather shove a tiger prawn bap into his fat gob than spit lyrical abuse at the opposition; when jubelatums are only bashed out in church by a congregation of one; and when Karaoke machines lie silent beneath dust sheets and a fine sticky coating of snakebite inside a boarded up pub. In these dark times almost totally bereft of the chance of a sing-a-long with your fellow disaffected, disenfranchised, mentally displaced comrades, we must all cling affectionately and whole heartedly to Stephen Patrick Morrissey, like a poor soul clinging to a life raft in a force 10 gale off Rockall.

And what better place is there to indulge in some evangelic communal singing than the Victoria Hall in Stoke. This place is wonderful; the last time I came here it was to see Elvis Costello & the Attractions in 1982. Nearly thirty years have passed in the turning of a single page - you can see I've been itching to come back. In those days, even though the venue hasn't moved one inch since, Victoria Hall was in Hanley. Today they reckon it's in Stoke, I wish they'd make their f**kin minds up.

Also back in the day if you went into through the conjoined Hanley Council Buildings in the mid afternoon (looking straight), and if you walked around a bit and found a good place to hide you could sneak in the gig for nowt. Tonight you'd be hard pressed to smuggle in your own bodily odour. No cameras, no drinks, no fags, no bags! "No sex, no drugs, no wine, no women. No fun, no sin, no you, no wonder it's dark. Everyone around me is a total stranger. Everyone avoids me like a Cyclone Ranger. Everyone" Reet Stokie boys I'm in.

Worse than the fascistic health & safety bullshit (the individual searches of people and property led to a ridiculous delay in just getting through the modern bleedin' portals) was the absence of high intensity caffeine drinks at the bar! Oh yes Victoria Hall you can cater for the piss head - but do you care about the recovering alcoholic? Do you bollocks! Without any caffeine in my bloodstream I had to spend most of the evening sucking the dye out of my shirt. Made in China, 100% cotton. It gave me black lips, but its not the first time and let's face it there's no such thing as a drug without beneficial side effects.

Support came by way of [All the Young] who are local band of lads from Stoke, or Hanley, or Burslem or somewhere near. They seem to have started off with all the right intentions. Which is good, coz the sad truth nowadays is that most local bands who get support slots shouldn't be supporting. They're invariably not fully formed. Thankfully this wasn't the case with All the Young. They'd got a fully coherent sound, the right hair cuts, the correct level of black attire and good dollop of bollocks behind the thrash - and they had a tad of swagger too. Hyperbole expunged then - they'd got the melodic pretensions of The Courteeners cut with Oasis from the Definitely Maybe era. Their 30 minute slot motored by with a batch of songs that seemed to be in constant pursuit of either pinning down or conjuring up a "Slide Away" moment. It nearly happened.

They could be contenders, ALL THE YOUNG - who knows? - And frankly Mr Shankly it's not up to me. I'll probably be dead by the time their debut single hit the stands. That said though, in my eyes All the Young are lacking just one thing - DANGER! With an infusion of danger, threat, menace and unhinged intent maybe they'll get to roll of the dice.

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