15 years to the day since this wonderful gig at Tramway in Glasgow, which gave us The Scottish Play DVD, I thought I'd mark the occasion by trawling the memory, with an edited version of a letter to a friend at the time:
Photo/backstage pass sorted, Paul
Smith has asked me to take a shot of the boys in the gardens of
Tramway before or after soundcheck, so I’m at the venue by 4 as per
the Wire schedule of arrival in Glasgow, though it’s not clear
whether 4 is the time of their arrival in the city or the venue…
Slaking my thirst after the long walk
out of the city centre to the venue, there’s no sign of the lads.
So I make direct inquiries at reception, and am brought round to the
production manager’s office. He doesn’t know when they’re
getting in. I go out to the gardens to get some ideas. Though I’m
excited by the prospect of doing this photo, I’m also terrified. As
time ticks by, the terror mounts. I can’t get any fucking ideas. I
return to the bar and try to read my book. But I can’t concentrate.
I’m on edge.
After what seems like forever, I hear some
unmistakably familiar chords emanating from the stage area. The lads
have landed. I wander in and meet Graham as Bruce is doing his line
check. Refreshments are offered in the dressing room. I’d murder a cup of tea, but there’s a fridge full
of Stella, so I opt for a beer. Try and relax me for the photo shoot
(some chance !).
We’re chatting away and Colin comes
in. ‘Hello !’ he beams. ‘You're looking very well… tanned
as well !’ he says as we shake hands. ‘Yeah.. I’m out on the
bike a lot..’, Then he disappears and I sit down with Graham again.
He had suggested in an email resuming
a previous phone conversation about the collaborative album with John
Duncan, so I’ve come prepared with my Dictaphone. Stories unfold
and people wander back and forth. He nips out for his line check and
Bruce appears. Greetings exchanged, he flops down on the couch. He
seems very tired, and conversation fizzles out after a short while.
Time enlarges. Eventually Graham appears. “You alright Bruce
?” he asks quizzically. “Meditating” comes the reply.
Graham resumes filling in the
background to Presence. Some very interesting stories there. Then
they’re all called to soundcheck. I nip out with them and get a few
shots. Then we’re all back in the dressing room with Paul and
they’ve to do an MTV interview and a radio interview.
The lads are back and Paul decides to
do the photo. I suggest they do the radio interview first. “Nah,
let’s do the photo..” he says with a sweeping hand gesture, as
though to clear us all out to the gardens. We all walk out, with Paul
leading the way. He seems to be going to some specific part of the
gardens. The greenhouses. They been out here already? Fuck ! “Bruce
wants a shot looking down in between the greenhouses… we were
thinking of using it for the cover of the DVD…” Shit Smith, now
you tell me ! As if I didn’t feel terrified enough !
I’ve got the lads lined up in my
sights and they don’t quite fit between the greenhouses, so they
have to rubberneck a bit. It looks shite. I snap away anyway,
changing lenses to get different perspectives. They are smiling back
down the lens at me, being model models. Before the lads go back
inside, I think I should really get something else. So I say it to
Bruce. “Where do you want to go ?” he says. “What about that
seat over there with the tree growing out of it… ” “Yes…
problem is, probably everyone else has used that…” (shite !!)
“OK… em… what about over here in front of this chimney, there’s
a path leading up to it that’ll give us a similar perspective to
the greenhouse”. “OK”. They line up patiently. Mmm. This is a
bit better. Bit more depth. I suggest Rob takes off his wooly hat as
it’s sat lightly atop his head and makes him look 7 foot tall.
Change lenses again for some close-ups. It’s after 7 and I really
don’t want to detain them any more.
Then we notice a whole bunch of
security had assembled at the entrance to the gardens and were
milling about. Penguins on parade. Bruce thinks it could make an
interesting shot if they mingle with them. I think it’s a brilliant
idea. Someone from the venue comes out and Colin asks if it’d be OK
to be photographed with the security. The woman doesn’t exactly say
no, but she seems unsure, but this is enough for Colin. They scrap
the idea. Shite !! It could’ve been great… even if we did a less
posed one with the security more in the background… but the
opportunity has been squandered. I think it could’ve been a
classic. I should’ve pushed it a bit more. As we wander back
inside, Colin remarks that they’ve never appeared on any album
cover (apart from the back cover of Pink Flag & Chairs Missing I
think to myself).
All aboard the tour bus and we’re
off. The driver’s tuned to some dreadful station playing what I
thought was Eddy Grant. Colin corrects me. “It’s Men at Work”.
“Jesus ! You’re right… what a godawful band…” “One of
the most loathsome of the 80s” Colin says. The flute on the track
reminds him of the fact that Mike Thorne used to play flute. And wear
glittery trousers. Well… whaddya know !
The bus pulls in to the hotel and
we’re only a few yards from where I’m staying, as it happens. I
repair to the hotel bar with Graham and Bruce. About 40 minutes later
we’re sat in the hotel’s Thai restaurant awaiting our orders. I’m
introduced to Susan Stenger. Bruce is sat opposite me, and he’s
gone quite again. For a minute or two at a time he just closes his
eyes. (Maybe he is just very tired. Or listening.) Graham, to my
right, is, by contrast, always the lively conversationalist. When we
leave, I thank Paul, and he just says “EMI”. Well I suppose it is
a Mute night… and Mute are now owned by EMI…
The bus gets us back to the venue
shortly after 10, and Pan Sonic are melting the concrete. The new
material is stunning. Bruce had said earlier that they were going to
‘drop the bomb’. Well it was a pretty explosive set. I met Ilpo
afterwards and told him how much I enjoyed the set, and the time they
played Dublin, with Bruce, FM Einheit and Caspar Brotzmann. He’s
grinning happily.
Back in the dressing room I say to
Graham how outstanding the new Pan Sonic stuff is. He tells me he has a
CDR of the new album (not out for a few weeks), sounding very pleased
with himself. “Well you’re a cunt, aren’t you ?” I say. He
smiles broadly. Paul says “feel free to help yourself to beer…
we’ve plenty of it…” he says motioning to the extra boxes under
the table, “..it doesn’t always get drunk…” So I start as I
mean to go on, and bring a bottle out to the public area, which is
now rammed with people. I wander about to see if I can spot any Ideal
Copyists. Then I notice Mark, Paul and Chris. It’s great to see
them, and we chat away until the start of the Liars set. They’ve
reduced to guitar, drums and electronics, and most definitely shed
the Gang Of Four influence. It’s an enjoyable, if somewhat
shambolic set. I spot Graeme Rowland in the crowd, and I suggest he
joins me backstage for a beer with the lads, but he disappears.
Grab another beer, and back out to
the public area. I spot Irmin Schmidt, shake his hand and thank him
for years of listening pleasure with Can. Time’s moving on now, and it’ll be Wire’s turn
to make some noise soon. I disappear backstage. Things are running
about 20 minutes late. Wire have left the dressing room now and are
waiting to get on stage. I grab my camera gear and head out to take
up my position with the film crew, between crash barrier and stage.
It’s the most surreal sensation as I walk out from backstage, as,
for a few seconds as I walk across, the whole audience looks
expectantly at me…
“Nice one chaps” I say as the
lads collapse exhausted onto the couches after a storming set. Paul
is cracking open the champagne, and hands me a glass. The
atmosphere’s really good now, everyone’s relaxing. People are
snapping with their digital cameras. Bruce hands me a G&T. Cheers
! Some more champagne and beers and it’s getting on for 3. I have
just been informed that the hotel has a 24 hour bar. Holy shit, this
party never ends !
Back on the bus, back at the bar,
downing the beers, here we go. I meet Project Dark’s Kirsten
Reynolds, and chat with her for a while. She very kindly gives me a
copy of their Gramophone Deluxe CD. Bruce comes over and we’re
chatting for a while, but it’s here I start to find significant
gaps in my memory of what was said. It’s nearing 5. Upon needing
the assistance of the architecture to guide my safe passage to the
toilet, I realize I’m quite pissed, and decide to make a quick
exit. “Let us know what you’re up to…” Bruce calls after me
as I struggle out the door. “YeahshurrBrucceseeyelater”
I wake up next morning and notice
I’ve slept in my clothes. Jesus ! At least I had the good sense to
take me boots off ! It’s 9.30. But my watch has stopped. Shit !
What time is it – I’ve a plane to catch !! Lash on the boots and
race downstairs. Ten past ten. OK. I’ve missed the breakfast. I
approach the receptionist.
“Any chance of some breakfast ?”
I croak.
“Breakfast finishes at 9” she
responds chirpily, with a sadistic smile.
“I got in very late last night”
“Noo”
“I slept in”
“Noo”
“Ah go on…”
“Noo”
“Please…”
“Noo”
Jesus. She’s not giving me an inch.
Well fuck you missus. Fuck you very much.
