The Boss is not the first musician to be cut off mid set…
“My Heart Just Bled for the Boss”Â
The injustice of it all, eh? I know how it feels when my creative juices are flowing, the crowd are moshing to your set but suddenly everything is thwarted by ‘the man’. But rest assured; life’s too short for solos, indulgence or overstaying your welcome.
Picture Coventry Polytechnic on March 1st 1989, St. David’s Day. The three pronged sensual assault of Fflapps, Dandielion Adventure and Stretchheads on UK tour staggers into a modern students union. 100 rabid, intoxicated Welsh boyos frenzy at the bar waving giant leeks and daffodils in honor of the Patron Saint. The scene for confrontation is set.
First on, we Stretchies are 5 and a half minutes into our typical 20 minute set of around 15 numbers. I dig deep for gutwrenching howls for the end of ‘Rex Perplexed’ and suddenly I’m bellowing solo over a blistering drum roll. My scream echoes out across the room but I’m not amplified! I feel exposed, castrated and confused. The drumbeat stalls while I stare down the sound engineer, standing with a massive ‘Ant Music’ sized plug in his hand, smug look on his face.
No protest, no rebellion…just a dignified retreat, then further humiliated by the blood chilling cry from the bar…”Oggy Oggy Oggy!!!!”. We’ve experienced our first and only ‘plug pull’.
In a perverse way, it felt like victory. We had interrupted rugby-jocks in full national song with our vile, frantic hardcore, but so much for Celtic solidarity. Dandelion Adventure fared better, the soundman perhaps confused by their psychedelic hypno-core. Fflaps of course went down WAY better as headline act, singing their churning Welsh-language punk anthems, but it was bitter-sweet. Not one of the swaying rugger-morons understood them.
I still beam with pride however, Stretchheads got several songs down those lager-lubed throats and we still got paid.