Soundtrack to My Life

The Good, the Bad, and the Magnificent

There comes a point in every young person’s life when they choose a musical tribe. My older brother was a ‘soul boy.’ On Friday nights, while I settled down to watch London Weekend Television, packet of crisps in hand, he was getting ready to go out. The ritual was always the same - dance tunes blasting from his hi-fi, courtesy of Radio 1, loud enough to reach the bathroom upstairs, while he doused himself in aftershave as liberally as a priest flinging holy water during an exorcism.

Whereas conveyor-belt pop was my musical weapon of choice. At that point in time, the idea of seeing a band play live had barely crossed my mind. I was content listening to all the greats on my Sony Walkman - Five Star, Johnny Hates Jazz, The Kids from Fame…

It wasn’t until several years later that I had my first real concert experience, and from that moment on, live music became an important part of my life. Some gigs were incredible, others forgettable. There were those I regret missing - plus a few I wish I had.

The First One

It was the summer of ‘91 when my mate Sam and I went to see Level 42, supported by Squeeze and Gary Clail, at Crystal Palace Bowl. Remember Mark King, the lead singer? His rapid-fire percussive playing style earned him a reputation as one of the best bassists of the time - and even led to a rumour about him insuring his thumbs for an eye-watering £3 million.¹

Sam and I were both 19 - and I had probably just finished my A-levels. Forgive the ambiguity, as this period between leaving school and starting university is forever lost in the dark recesses of my snakebite-fuelled mind.

Girls! Let me be a warning to you - don’t pluck your eyebrows.

I do recall that I was working at The Bakers Oven in Greenwich (which later became Greggs), loosely ‘dating’ a lothario hairdresser from a salon up the road, and spending my nights clubbing and pubbing locally with friends. Heady, wonderful times.

Verdict: If my memory serves me right, Level 42 were excellent, as were Squeeze. One-hit wonder Gary Clail sang Human Nature to rapturous applause.

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The Last One

Kasabian – Tuesday, 18th March 2025 @ The Fortitude Hall, Brisbane

This was my fourth time seeing Kasabian live, having previously caught them on three separate occasions at Brixton Academy, between 2009 and 2012. Those years were a relentless cycle of grief. I had been made redundant, lost my dad to cancer, and supported my mum through her own treatment. I’d also ended a toxic relationship, and - to top it all off - my house flooded, rendering it uninhabitable for a year. I was going through the motions but far from where I’d imagined I’d be in my late 30s - single and childless, struggling to find solid ground.

Fortunately, life changed dramatically, and for the better, ten years on, after reuniting with my now-husband and moving to Australia. One of the many good things to come from that new chapter was sharing my love of Kasabian with my stepson. He was growing up with the same appreciation for the band, and we’d often said that if they ever made it over here, we’d go and see them together.

Years later, they announced a Brisbane date - coinciding perfectly with Johnny’s 18th birthday. So my husband and I took him and his girlfriend, Ava.

There’s something quite special about watching your kid get the same thrill from a song that you do. In that moment, when he looked over at me as we mouthed the words to L.S.F., I wasn’t his 52-year-old step-mum - I was young again, his mate, lost in music, still trying not to spill my drink.

Serge Pizzorno, the lead singer, worked every inch of the stage and, on a couple of occasions, got us crouching down, only to spring up like Zebedee, on his command. Fun in theory, but at my age, the old chips and peas² creaked under the strain. Still, it was a brilliant night, made even better when the band threw in an old-school dance anthem – Insomnia - which had me whooping like a lunatic, quite possibly setting the guy in front, up for a future case of tinnitus.

Verdict: Admittedly, I still prefer original powerhouse front-man Tom Meighan, but Serge did a sterling job of whipping the crowd into a frenzy on a school night. My only complaint is that it was a little on the quiet side - but blame Brisbane City Council, capitulating to grumbling residents who choose to live next-door to a music venue…

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The Best One

Ahhhhh, tricky. Special mention must go to my favourite band, Shed Seven. They’ve never failed to deliver. I’ve seen them numerous times at wonderful venues, many of which are now sadly defunct or turned into flats.

But when I moved to Australia, my husband warned me that British bands didn’t often play around our neck of the woods. So when the mighty sheds announced a date in Brisbane on 19th April 2018, we set our alarms to ensure we didn’t miss out. It’s still a source of bemusement that our ticket numbers were 0001 and 0002, also the kids found it utterly hilarious that their dad had t-shirts made for the occasion, BUT WE DIDN’T CARE. Being front row together at The Triffid, watching Rick Witter sing our favourite songs, was a fabulous experience.

Other notable gigs:

• Stone Roses comeback show – 29th June 2012 @ Heaton Park, Manchester. Look, I know Ian Brown isn’t the strongest of singers, but THEY’RE THE STONE ROSES!

• Stone Roses - 12th December 2016 @ Sydney Opera House.

• Blur – 13^th December 1997 @ Brixton Academy, London. Phil Daniels joined the band on stage for Parklife. These were the days when you’d often find yourself rubbing shoulders with celebs, when out and about. In amongst the throng that night was TV presenter Jamie Theakston who, we observed, was wearing the same jumper he had on presenting Live & Kicking³ that morning. Rock & Roll.

• The Cure - 31st May 1996 @ Earls Court, London

• Pet Shop Boys - 6th July 2002 @ Brixton Academy, London

• Chas & Dave - 15th May 2011 @ The 100 Club, London

• Supergrass – May 1, 2004 @ Astoria, London

• The Smyths – February 2020 @ The Zoo, Brisbane The best thing about a decent tribute band is that they always deliver what the crowd want to hear. No hissy fits, no artistic strops, none of your, “These are tracks from our new album” nonsense. Just hits.

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The Worst One

I was SO excited to be going to see Prince at Wembley Arena in the summer of 1993. Accompanying me was a girl called Roxanne, one of those transitory friends - a fellow colleague cast member from the Disney Store (For those of you unfamiliar with my time working under Mickey Mouse, read more of those crazy days, here…).

Prince’s late arrival didn’t bode well. Some people remain reverent of an artist, regardless of how they’re treated. Me? I hold no truck with that. It’s why, even though I like her music, I’ve had no interest in seeing Madonna play live. Hugely successful singers who show no respect for their fans get my goat. As a drunk Scotsman once snarled at me after I rebuffed his advances on a dance floor in Edinburgh… “You’re not THAT beautiful, darlin’.”

When Prince finally took the stage, his face was obscured, and he performed as if he were on the clock - rattling through Diamonds & Pearls with a sense of disinterest. This was during his well-publicised dispute with Warner Music over artistic control, a battle that loomed over the entire show. When he eventually removed the covering from his face, the screens revealed the word SLAVE scrawled across his chops - a defiant statement that spoke volumes.

Trouble is, it’s hard to sympathise with any artist when they bring their troubles to the dinner table, or in this case, concert venue. It was when he began repeating the question, “WHAT’S MY NAME? WHAT’S MY NAME?” over and over for ten minutes, that Roxanne and I finally gave up and went to the nearest pub.

Verdict: Hugely disappointing. To this day, I’m envious of others who saw this otherwise brilliant artist at his best.

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The Ones I Nearly Missed

Oasis & The Verve – 5th November 1995 @ Earls Court, London

You ever have one of those nights when the pre-fun is so good, you don’t want to disrupt the magic? At the time I was studying Media & Communications at Goldsmiths, (yes, it is a real degree.) My pals (Sarah, Gav, Jenny) and I were getting merry at my local, The Rosemary Branch in New Cross. I should point out that it’s bloody miles away from Earls Court. Cue a last-minute "Oh, I suppose we better get a move on," followed by a very expensive dash across London. You’ll be pleased to hear that we made it without breaking the spell, courtesy of smuggling a bottle of gin into the cab.

Verdict: Marvellous. When the Gallaghers were at their best.

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The Charlatans – Dalston, East London, circa 2012

This one was entirely my fault. I had the paper tickets for the four of us, but somewhere between work and those pesky pre-fun drinks, it slowly dawned on me that I’d left them at home. Cue a frantic, surreptitious search through my phone for confirmation.

Microsoft Outlook, being what it is, threw up emails from before the Stone Age but nothing from the previous month, when I had purchased the tickets. Sheepishly, I admitted my mistake, but insisted I could sort it out - by finding an internet café and printing out proof of purchase.

For those too young to remember, in the late ’90s/early 2000s, (before smartphones) internet cafés were public spaces where you could access the world wide web for a fee.

By the mid-to-late 2000s, home broadband, smartphones, and free Wi-Fi had all but wiped them out. So even as I suggested it, I doubted I’d find a place. But lo and behold - there it was – a relic from the past offering internet services - plus the option to wire money across to Nigeria. I briefly considered the latter before opting for the former, and, after relaying our plight to the bored-looking man at the counter, paid for access, printed the tickets, and made it to the gig. Just.

Verdict: A decent set, but by this point I was starting to suffer from Charlatans fatigue, after seeing them countless times over the years. Much as I love them, there were later occasions - here in Brisbane, for example - where I felt they didn’t really put their backs into it.

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The One That Got Me Hot Under the Collar

INXS – 28th October 1994 @Brixton Academy, London

I have no idea who I went with. Could’ve been surrounded by two-headed aliens for all I know. Other people were irrelevant that night - the only face worth looking at was the late, great Michael Hutchence. Never before or since has a frontman oozed so much sex appeal.

I’m probably making a show of myself somewhere near the front row here.

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The Ones That Didn’t Show

In the late ’90s, I was lucky enough to land work experience at Warner Music and was given the choice between a placement in A&R or the Finance Department. That’s what’s known in the trade as a no-brainer (rubbish Excel skills, see...) So for a while, I had the surreal privilege of watching unsigned bands - not that I had any sway in getting them signed, but I did report back on their performances. I also got to see bands that were on the up.

At the time, Electrasy had a song out called Morning Afterglow. My mate Lowri and I would play it repeatedly on the pub jukebox where we worked in Greenwich. So I was looking forward to seeing them.

That night I double checked - their name was clearly printed on my ticket. I was at the right venue - Camden Dingwalls. Right date - 24th February 1999. Wee Mark Owen was at the bar (Take That had broken up by then, granting him a level of anonymity in a venue unlikely to attract his typical fan.)

But the band didn’t show.

Verdict: There was no explanation as to why Electrasy didn’t play that night. It might’ve been my first experience of gaslighting, cos no-one else seemed to care or even acknowledge that they hadn’t made it on stage.

See also, Oasis - who were supposed to be headlining at the Virgin Festival, Weston Park in August 2009, but decided to have a band-splitting argument instead. Not big or clever, and resulted in me drunkenly declaring that “I won’t cross the road to see those arsehole brothers ever again.”

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The Ones I Regret Missing (In My Lifetime)

Although we had both seen them separately in their heyday, my husband still bemoans the fact that he had tickets but didn’t go to watch The Prodigy play in Brisbane, February 2019, especially as Keith Flint sadly passed away soon after.

As for me? I regret not being part of the excitable throng of young girls who experienced Wham! - The Final at Wembley Stadium in June ’86. I adored them, still do, and believe George Michael was one of the true musical greats.

See also: Live Aid in ’85 – where Freddie Mercury stole the show.

And in May 1994, prior to the release of Definitely Maybe, a little-known band called Oasis played my local (much frequented) nightclub, The Venue, in New Cross, London. They were supported by Shed Seven and Cast. My reason for not walking 500 yards down the road to see them that night? Who knows…But our friend Jason, who did attend, often reminds us of the brilliant time he had (and how he shook Liam’s hand.)

I could go on - really, I could. So many bands, so hazy my memories. The paper tickets, once treasured reminders, are no more. But I was lucky - so lucky - to come of age in a time when live music pulsed through London like a second heartbeat. Venues were everywhere - big, small, sticky-floored, smoke-filled - all offering the chance to catch legends at their peak or witness the rise of the next big thing. This was before gentrification swept through, before skyrocketing rents, corporate takeovers, and algorithms deciding our playlists. Before beloved venues started vanishing. Back then, live music wasn’t just entertainment - it was raw, accessible, and woven into the city’s fabric. I may have missed a few along the way (in fact I know I did…) But I was there for so many, right in the thick of it - when London truly sounded like London.

Thanks if you read and enjoyed my previous piece, Appointment With a Cyclone, below. Especially those of you who kept in touch during that testing time!

Appointment With a Cyclone

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1. https://www.guitarworld.com/features/level-42s-mark-king-the-man-with-the-3-million-dollar-thumb

2. Cockney rhyming slang - chips & peas = knees

3. https://www.tvmaze.com/episodes/1379964/live-kicking-5x12-episode-12