It was gone 2.30am and we found ourselves in a club, somewhere in the West End of London. There were some amps, a keyboard, a drum kit and some Mic stands on the stage that an hour ago had been party to a handful of people dancing to Prince songs being mixed up by the DJ.
Roll back 7 hours, where you would find me, my brother and a friend talking to a lady about possibly getting into one of The Short Arse Purple One's infamous after show parties. We met up again after the Wembley Gig was over and true to her word, she slipped me 3 after-show invites. What followed was frantic driving around, mostly in a circular fashion, trying to find the damn club. After asking a few people walking on the pavement, a guy in a petrol station, a Copper and a taxi driver, we were close enough and finally parked up down a Long And Winding Road.
Go forward about 5 hours and we somehow found ourselves in the club. Not only that, but we also appeared to be drinking in the VIP bar. It wasn't the celebs hanging in there that gave me this conclusion, it was the fact that 3 bottles of beer didn't give me anything more than a handful of shrapnel as change out of a 20. Needless to say we made that drink last and it was only when his Bass Player stood next to me at the bar and struck up a brief conversation that I pathetically thought it would be cool to offer her a drink. Luckily she declined, but by that time I'd already ordered mine. Bollocks!
Back to just after 2.30am and one by one, his band members took to the stage, tuned up and started jamming. After many years and a huge number of gigs, it's still the best band entrance I've ever seen.
We managed to get right up to the front and there were times, I swear, The Vertically Challenged One dripped some sweat on me. The whole place was jumping, he got into his normally unseen 'relaxed' mode and had many casual conversations with the crowd. Unfortunately, I wasn't one of them, but I did get to fumble about his person. Oh yes! Mid way through his set, he put down his bass, turned around and took a backward stage dive onto us. The whole crowd surged forward and I'm sorry to say that I'm guilty of having a bit of a fumble and a stroke as we collectively pushed him back towards the stage.
And if that doesn't qualify me for passing this task because I didn't actually meet him, then perhaps instead I should have told the tale of when I met Nick Berry over a counter in a music store. He had to borrow the money from Sophie Lawrence (I think they were seeing each other?) to buy a copy of Viz and we had a brief discussion about our favourite characters, his being Buster Gonad.
Or maybe I should have told the one about when Robert Plant pushed aside a queue of people (in the shop I was working in at the time), threw two £50 notes at me over the counter, mumbled something about getting his dad something for Father's Day and then buggered off for an hour. He must have seen the error of his ways because when he returned, he apologised for being so abrupt and explained he didn't like hanging around in crowds because he gets hassled. I bagged up the CD's for his Dad's present, smiled while I accepted his apology and short-changed the fucker.
If we're doing being sweated on by slebs, or in my case minor slebs, Roddy Frame and Miles Hunt have both dripped warm bodily fluids around my person...
Posted by: Cat | Wednesday, 20 June 2007 at 21:02
Urgh....
Miles Hunt! I met him too. Well, he came into our shop and acted like a right....well, let's just say it's a naughty word that I don't say but rhymes with his surname.
Posted by: bedshaped | Wednesday, 20 June 2007 at 21:23
runt?
Posted by: ordinary girl | Wednesday, 20 June 2007 at 21:45
That's close enough o.g.
Posted by: bedshaped | Wednesday, 20 June 2007 at 22:02
Who ARE these people?
I'm lost.
Posted by: Delboys Daughter | Wednesday, 20 June 2007 at 22:27
Well Delboys Daughter, I tried to help with links on the lesser known ones in my post. I'm presuming here that you've picked up on who the Short Arsed Talented One is!
If you Google Roddy and Miles you will probably go "Who?"
Oh and Robert Plant is some arrogant tosser who used to sing in a small time band in the 70's called Fred Zeppelin, or something similar.
Posted by: bedshaped | Wednesday, 20 June 2007 at 22:38
Speaking of slebs.. has anyone else noticed by the way that Penfolds picture over yonder looks a little like Peter Andre?
Posted by: Delboys Daughter | Wednesday, 20 June 2007 at 22:43
I tried to click the linky Beddy but alas it wouldn't work.
Oh the humanity.
Posted by: Delboys Daughter | Wednesday, 20 June 2007 at 22:45
The links work fine DD. Not wanting to sound harsh or anything but you may have a little trouble considering you're probably running on Windows 95!
Posted by: bedshaped | Wednesday, 20 June 2007 at 22:48
Blimey, you all lead such glamorous lives. A small intimate Prince gig? And you got to grope him? Blimey.
Posted by: Clare | Monday, 25 June 2007 at 15:08