The Cribs - Wolverhampton Wulfrun Hall - June 7th 2007

Hi.

I went to see a young new-beat combo called The Cribs at Wolverhampton the other day, with my young friends Dan and Chris. I say young, 30 somethings. Didn’t want to give you the impression I hang around with ‘young’ men. Phew. Anyhow. On the way to the music hall, we stopped off at a friends house, Roy, to pick up some money that Roy owed Chris for a memory card. Discussion turned towards that Paris Hilton. It seems Chris doesn’t like her at all. Me neither. Back in my day a woman like that, and I use the term woman lightly, wouldn’t have found fame as them were pre-camcorder days. If she appeared onstage at a burlesque, or a soho strip joint club* she may have found small fame, but not the monolithic levels that you see nowadays.
Anyway, I digress…

We got to the music hall, and were greeted by some youths who were chanting and drunk. It was a far cry from when I saw Morton Feldman at Uttoxeter’s Barrenhall.
The band took to the stage and played a variety of numbers, jaunty, poppy, but quite loud.
They did a song about Bovine’s. That one was good. I don’t know if it’s my age though, but I was getting a bit bored by the end. Chris ensures me that the album is great, but maybe it was an off day. I didn’t sleep all night prior, due to my dodgy back. I hurt it in the infamous ‘tap’ war of 1975, when I got into a fistfight with Gareth Hunt’s manager ‘crispy’ chris joneston, over a parking space at the ‘eccleston tap dance specatacular tap-off’ competition.
So we left after the destructive finale of the gig. That baffled me. Why were they jumping into the audience.

The only thing that marred the night was when young Chris was asked to move away from the entrance to the ladies toilets by a security guard. He was about 1metre away having a glass of cola, not in anyone’s way, when this security guard came along and asked, “are you waiting to go to the ladies toilets?”. Because Chris wasn’t asked “Do you mind if we clear this area a bit please”, and instead was talked to in a somewhat snotty manner, this riled young Chris who had a wee row with the security guard, who claimed he ‘knew what women like’. He may know what his mother liked, as looking at him it’s the only woman he’s ever had real contact with. Anyway, I’ll let Chris fight his battles, Cribbins stepped back and enjoyed a pint of the black stuff. Gin.

Chris and Dan listened to Gogol Bordello on the way home, and I realized this must be the band their friend Roy mentioned when he said ‘the peg selling band’.

As for the act we saw tonight, I’d say they were okay for this generation, but the crazy world of Arthur brown they are not.

Goodnight.


*I say this hypothetically, I didn’t do strip joints, despite the reputation I gained on the set of ‘The world of Suzie Wong’