It was 24 February 1984 and The Smiths were playing Bristol University Students Union. I was living opposite the building at the time and this was the hottest gig in town and I couldn’t get a ticket for love nor indeed money. I think they had made their debut on TOTP that week with WDDIM and there was huge anticipation. Rumour had it tickets were selling outside for five times their face value.
So I thought I’d chance my arm and see if I could bargain an affordable price. I wandered across the road and indeed touts were selling tickets at extortionate prices. I kind of gave up and walked into the building. The gig was on the third floor and the rest of the Anson Rooms were open for business as usual.
Then I noticed someone come out of the lift. Surely it wasn’t still stopping in the hall on floor 3. In for a penny … I pressed 3 and the next thing I knew I was getting out of the lift inside the venue.
Have you ever got into a gig through less than normal means?
I can’t beat that, but I did once go and see Ride at the Old Trout in Windsor in about 1991 or 2 and didn’t realise it was sold out, with touts outside offerring spares at way out of my range. Hanging around by the side entrance when it opened, I realised that there was a bit of a sudden build up of people around me. The doors opened, there was a bit of forward momentum, and I was suddenly forced through the doors and inside. Looking around I quickly ascertained that no one was chasing after me for not having shown a ticket, headed into the busy bar, and enjoyed the gig. Not as much of a victory as seeing The Smiths in their pomp then, but a little victory nonetheless.
I went to see Ron Sexsmith at the National Arts Centre in Ottawa last minute decision , got there and show was sold out. Was about to walk out and a worker there said to hang on a minute, disappeared and came back and handed me a ticket for free. Someone on the guest list had not showed up.
At another show in Ottawa (Steve Earle), I had bought a ticket in advance and entered the venue. My gig going friend showed up later and found the show was sold out. I realized that my ticket with a bar code had not been scanned on entry, so I emailed it to him and it was re-used to get him in for free.
1982: The university had some big gig going on – some work colleagues and I wondered if we could forge tickets (the company having just bought a clanky old printer). Copying the artwork was easy, problem was matching the coloured card stock.
I went down the street to a print shop that had done work for us before and (holding the ticket upsidedown) asked “You got anything like this?”
“Oh yeah, we’ve just done a job printing tickets for some Uni show – help yourself.”
Mission accomplished and a merry time was had by all.
Not a gig but a football match.
In, I think, 1981 Everton had a midweek League Cup replay against Southampton at Goodison.
I was entering the Gwladys Street via a turnstile on the corner with Bullens Road.
The crowd was massive. The queue for this turnstile was doubled back on itself.
A mounted policeman rode along, telling us to keep order while deliberately guiding his horse into us fans in the queue. There was mayhem as two queues were forced to merge into one.
The result was I went from wondering if I might be locked out to being very close to the turnstile and was in the ground in a minute or two.
I found my mate at our usual spot and enjoyed an Everton win.
One summer evening after work – at about 5.30pm I got off the train at Vauxhall and thought I’d spend a couple of hours watching cricket at the Oval. I wandered to the turnstile and asked how much to get in. An easy going attendant said “In theory, it’s a tenner but…”. He just waved me in. I think they were just pleased to see anyone, really.
Saw Sinead O’Connor supporting The Chieftans at a place called Humphrey’s in San Diego. A hotel/resort that puts on concerts, that if you book the right room, you can sit on your balcony watching the show. We weren’t staying there but managed to find ourselves in the pool area which gave us a side view of the stage for nothing. We got as far as the end of the second last song (Fire on Babylon) when we were approached by a security guard asking to see our room keys. I pretended I didn’t speak English with a confused look on my face (Que?) and my friend, who we were visiting, persuaded him to let us stay for the last song. I looked up to see Paddy Moloney observing what was going on.
Sometime in the mid 80’s, my sister suggested we crash the St Thomas’s Hospital Summer Ball, held a few miles away from where she and her husband lived. Given I had paid and been to many as a student, 75-80, this seemed a naughty but nice idea, so we did. We arrived just in time for Bad manners, who were playing to the drunk medics. I was only familiar from their halcyon TOTP days of Special Brew and Lip Up Fatty, surprised to see just what a tight unit they were, especially the horns.
(It turned out my sister had been attending for years, using my name, if challenged.)
Not a gig but a bar mitzvah – several in fact. When I first moved to that London one of my flatmates in West Hampstead was a Jewish medical student. What he liked to do on Saturday afternoons was pop down to the synagogue just off Abbey Rd, not far from the studio, and gatecrash bar mitzvahs.
Always loads to eat and drink, he said, and nobody cares, we just walk in.
But I’m not Jewish, I protested, I won’t know what to do.
You know how to eat and drink, don’t you? came the reply. Anyway, you could pass for Jewish. This was news to me.
So off we went, and it turned out he was right. Everybody was cheery and friendly, and nobody asked us what our connection to the lad of the hour was. We would totter home royally stuffed and royally pissed in time for a Saturday night in the pub.
After 3 or 4 of these adventures I started to feel uneasy about it. Was it not morally wrong to steal food and drink from people I didn’t know, even though they were loaded, according to my flatmate? I was pretty sure it was, so I stopped going.
I’ve actually been invited to a couple of bar mitzvahs in later life. They were thoroughly jolly affairs, but I found myself wondering if any of the people I encountered were gatecrashers. Apart from the rabbi – I was pretty sure he’d been invited.
The now Mrs Wells won my heart when we were talking about a small club in Collingwood an inner Melbourne suburb. Turns out she and her fellow under age girlfriends and the blokes hip to the lurk would get into the club by getting onto the roof of the adjoining bank, and onto the upstairs fire escape of the venue.
I went with my flatmate to see if we could get in to the London Palladium to see The Smiths. He was a right wide boy so he sidled up to the guy guarding a stage door down an alley and asked him if we could get in for a tenner. We could, and a spiffing night was had by all.
I went to that and paid for my ticket, which I’m pretty sure wasn’t that much more than a tenner, but still, well played!
On 13th July 1976, The Crusaders were to play a gig in the Kelvin Hall Arena in the West End of Glasgow. The gig was being promoted by the local radio station, Radio Clyde. At that time, my then wife was working with Radio Clyde. I decided to attend the gig. We lived within walking distance of the venue and I thought my wife might like to accompany me on a lovely sunny Tuesday. She declined as she thought the music I listened to was ‘weird’. So, I headed off by myself hoping I could pay the £2.50 at the door. When I arrived at the main door, I noticed a Radio Clyde van parked nearby. The guy in the van was John McCalman who was basically the behind the scenes powerhouse of RC. I kinda knew John having been around the station a few times. He spotted me and called me over. He asked if I had a ticket and I told him I hadn’t. He then produced about 20 tickets and handed them to me. He asked me to take a walk around the block and dish out as many tickets as I could. I gave away a couple and then went into the gig. It transpired that the ticket sales had failed to reach expected levels. It was a fantastic gig with Joe Sample, Wilton Felder, Larry Carlton etc on top form and featuring recently issued Those Southern Knights LP.
I was meeting some friends at a 3 Bonzos and a Piano concert at the Klink in Oxford with the stage in the grounds. I’d just driven up from Cornwall and due to traffic holdups I’d arrived with 5 minutes to spare and no ticket. I followed a couple walking in up the side of the building and found myself at the side of the scaffolded stage.
Walked up to the seating area met my chums who’d saved me a seat and enjoyed the show.
Myself and my girlfriend at the time hitched to Cropredy (though actually it was the time it was held at Broughton Castle) and got a lift from the head cooper of Theakstons who were doing the bar. He dropped us off in the arena which was also the campsite no tickets and no need now.
Falsified a few wristbands or wet someone’s inked wrist and transferred the ink to a naked wrist.
As it was his 30th birthday, my mate bought 2 tickets to see Simple Minds in Athens ( He`s a big fan) and we arranged a long weekend away. On arrival we decided to check out where the venue was as per the tickets which turned out to be tiny! This couldnt be the right place, not for Ver Minds!
We decided that on the night we would just follow the crowds to the presumably upscaled venue but when we headed for the possible new location could`nt see any hoards of fans. Passing the road where the tiny venue was we spotted some black clad figures sporting lanyards and bunches of keys. These look like roadie types so we asked them where the gig was and they said to come with them.
Chatting to a tall friendly guy, he asked us why we were there and we explained it was a birthday treat. “Brilliant ” he said, ” My names Eddie and I`m the bass player ” We got ushered in via the backstage area, had a quick hello with the rest of the band and then had to jump offstage into an audience of amused Athenians.
The gig as you may have guessed, was quite brilliant.
Nice one
Must have been about 89/90 and me and a couple of pals were having a few pints of a Saturday afternoon in the Cardiff Arms pub on the Strand in Swansea. About 5 o’clock a few fellas ambled in with their gear and started to soundcheck and it was incredible, turned out to be The Groundhogs. We chatted a bit to Tony and the others and hung around for the gig. As we were already in there we didn’t have to pay the £5 to get in and they were fantastic.
Saw Bad Manners at the same venue a couple of weeks later and was genuinely amazed how tight a band they were. The horn section were very impressive.
Queuing outside Ronnie Scott’s with some student mates (who got in cheap as they were MU members) when a black cab pulled up. Out stepped Dave Holland with a double bass. He paid the cabbie, then reached in for an elegant wooden stool. ‘You couldn’t bring this inside for me, could you?’, he said to me. I could, followed him in and just like that, I was in.
When I was a teenager, one of my mates worked in a local travel agency, which was also a ticketing agent for Newcastle City Hall, about 40 miles away. Usually this only meant getting tickets at face value without any postage or booking fees, but we did once get Stones tickets without having to go and queue at the venue, which was the official route for that gig.