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Gigs you have been far too smashed to remember being at


Bjornebye
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Got a list as long as my arm but the stand out one is Oasis Wembley 2000. 16 years old , coach down with a load of fellas, thinking I could handle it. One of them had to stand at the back with me for the whole gig while I was on a different planet off my face. He reminds me everytime I see him the old bastard. 

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I've honestly never been drunk at a gig. In fact I'm that bastard who gets there when the doors open so I can be right at the front. 

 

Did that when I was 18 before a Motorhead gig at mountford hall. Accidentally waited at the wrong side of the stage so I was in front of Phil Campbell all night instead of Lemmy. Served me right 

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Underworld at the Royal Court off my tits on acid and speed. Strange mix. Tripping your bollocks off but still running around wanting to talk absolute shite to anybody. 

 

Also see Hawkwind at Royal Court. Similar but on guest list. Too wrecked to risk going backstage as I couldn't have told the difference between Hawkwind, their roadies or their plates of sarnies and beer. 

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Got chucked out of a Noel Gallagher gig at the Echo. Apparently I got caught smoking in the toilets. I went with my Uncle Knobhead and the next day he came round and showed me some videos of the gig on his phone. All I had on mine was a blurry picture taken from about fifty yards away of two coppers stood outside the entrance. 

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31 minutes ago, TK421 said:

I saw the Foo Fighters' first gig on UK soil at the Melody Maker tent, Reading '95.  Unfortunately I can remember it. 

Missed that. Did see Nirvana's first gig on European soil at Newcastle Riverside though. 

 

I've probably mentioned this before. 

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The Orb at Glastonbury in 1993- I'd been drinking and smoking all day, and decided to do my first trip. Came up ridiculously strong during the Ozric Tentacles set, freaked out a bit as all these crusties were turning into vampires and had to go the side of the stage to try and calm down. I spent the entirety of the Orb set semi-comatose near some ditch, desperately trying to straighten out a bit. I also think I threw up on a tent at some point.

 

Not a single gig, but I lost an hour and a half during the Stag and Dagger festival in Glasgow last year. We started drinking early, and I stupidly couldn't be arsed to eat and ended up just staggering around various venues. I also took a header on the way back to the station when I tried to vault over a safety barrier- twatted my head and scratched the fuck out of my glasses. About the only vivid memory I have is someone asking me if I was OK, and me replying, 'no, I've got cancer'.

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I have indeed, some of my own in fact.

 

I even have a dvd of a gig where I fell off the drum stool mid set.

 

Fun times in my 20’s. 

 

Thankfully stayed sober at the Oasis Wembley Stadium 2000 gig on the Friday night and remember it vividly. Great sets from Oasis, Doves and Happy Monday’s.

 

Great day out.

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37 minutes ago, Captain Turdseye said:

Got chucked out of a Noel Gallagher gig at the Echo. Apparently I got caught smoking in the toilets. I went with my Uncle Knobhead and the next day he came round and showed me some videos of the gig on his phone. All I had on mine was a blurry picture taken from about fifty yards away of two coppers stood outside the entrance. 

I was there that night Turds. Didn’t see you though. 

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48 minutes ago, Captain Turdseye said:

Got chucked out of a Noel Gallagher gig at the Echo. Apparently I got caught smoking in the toilets. I went with my Uncle Knobhead and the next day he came round and showed me some videos of the gig on his phone. All I had on mine was a blurry picture taken from about fifty yards away of two coppers stood outside the entrance. 

I was thrown out of the Cavern for smoking in the bogs, whilst watching a Beatles tribute act. Rock ‘n’ roll!

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Modest Mouse at The Ritz in Manchester.

 

The day was doomed before it’d even began. Biggest fuck head mate and I went for a couple ‘quiet’ ones the night before. Well, you know how this plays out...full on shitfest and a bed time around 4/5am.

 

We are woken by other fuck head mate at ten(ish) in the morning because, genuinely no idea, he was lonely perhaps. We stand in the kitchen recanting tales of last night debauchary when fuckhead one reaches in to his pocket to find about two grams of dickhead dust, the origin of this is one of several mysteries about the day.

 

We have breakfast bumps.

 

Emboldened by Columbia’s second best export we decide that Pinot Grigio is the best mouthwash we’re likely to find. 

 

15 hours, two cities, a Gary or two in Lancaster and a fist fight later we’re awoken by a taxi driver in Huddersfield demanding £150 as we quite clearly stated ‘take me to that fucking tree in Huddersfield, near the town centre, fuck the cost’ 

 

Only memory I have of the gig is speaking to a hot woman, genuinely no idea if she was or not, and the realisation on her face that this was fucking pointless as I came back from the bar with eight pints, for two people.

 

Glorious days.

 

 

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Dirty Pretty Things in Glasgow. Spent about six hours drinking 8% Belgian beer in some nearby bar. Apparently I paid more than a tout wanted for the ticket because I could no longer count or understand the concept of money. Vague recollection of getting in a beef with some kids inside who said my hair looked like Paul Hardcastle's. (It didn't). Found out the next day that I'd rang home to cancel all my bank cards, which I couldn't find, despite them being in my arse pocket where they always were. 

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