The Wedding Present + more across Manchester Academy.
Mike Garry and John Cooper Clarke
Lee’s Palace, Toronto, Canada
6th September 2023
The world’s rapid information glut can starve you for meaning and make you forget that, at times, words can be fun and nourishing. A lyrical respite happened in Toronto recently when Manchester’s sons, poets John Cooper Clarke (JCC) and Mike Garry, landed at Lee’s Palace. Both holding honorary degrees, the doctors were in and ready to practice their respective lexicology. They are perfectly paired: deeply doused in the underbelly of life and the beauty of the world.
In what was a pleasant start to both shows, Johnny Green (author and road manager for The Clash) introduced the poets. This helped focus and prime the capacity audience sweating and melting under extreme heat and weighing their exit options; it was almost 40C outside with no air conditioning inside the venue. An auspicious opening night on their North American tour.
Mike Garry took the stage and started singing, “And the sea is deep baby, and the sea is cold, cold, cold…” like a Gaelic lament, then moved to perform his poem “Spring Crossing” with feeling. It’s about the perils migrants face crammed into unsafe boats by human smugglers. He wove between the intense “Mancunian Meander” and “Penny for a Guy” ending his verbal zigzag with the repeating phrase, “Think about it!” before adding a bespoke and humorous touch with, “Mike, you’re at Lee’s Palace. Relax!” After his first few poems, all with serious messages, he told the crowd, “Thought I’d start with the cheery ones.”
Garry dramatically performs his compositions like soliloquies and conversations to pack an emotional punch. He does it innately while injecting humour in his commentary and even imitations. On this night, he gave people a taste of gruff Bernard Manning, owner of The World Famous Embassy Club. Initially a librarian, Garry still teaches and at times preaches. He works for the BBC, at schools and in prisons, where he’s first scorned, then warmed up to. He admonished, “Don’t be a nonce!” explaining this word comes from the prison term “not on normal courtyard exercise.” He declared the most important thing you can do for anyone, especially young people, is instill in them a love of literature, and challenged the audience to inspire a young person to read. He shared memories of a gifted teacher who inspired him. It was the segue into “Signify.”
Art forms are rendered more accessible when you understand the artist or the influence behind the work. Garry talked about his parents. His mother jumped out of a convent window as a teenager and ran away with his father to be married in Scotland. He grew up in an alcoholic family. His mother died of cancer. He performed “Things Me Mam Taught Me,” which was her eulogy. He’s also been divorced and the insights he shared about marriage counselling in “Blink Game” were poignant. It felt raw. In it, he emphatically referred repeatedly to white lies and “that thing you belittled and accused… left a bruise.”
Manchester colours some of his work. One such opus is “St Anthony: An Ode to Anthony H Wilson” about the Mancunian tour de force. After an impassioned proclamation of Wilson’s importance, Garry performed the poem like a combination of town crier and minstrel. The work was turned into a video with a long list of celebrities mouthing the words as Garry’s voice recites the verses in his Manc lilt. Anyone not familiar with his work will get a sense of the musicality, rhythm, and dynamism of his poetry from this video. His performance on this hyperthermic night was entertaining and interactive. It alleviated the volcanic conditions in the club.
After an introduction by Mr. Green, the “Dragnet Theme” blasted through the speakers and Dr. John Cooper Clarke sauntered onto the stage in all his signature skinny-chic glory. The audience welcomed him with cheers. His super-slim build is due to his having tuberculosis as a child, not drugs, but he leverages it in his work. He told the audience now that he’s no longer taking drugs, those who know him see he’s gained weight. It’s a criminal offence in Manchester to be overweight. Due to packing on the pounds, he’d have to be put in a jail cell with bars that are five feet apart. It was the prologue to “Get Back on Drugs, You Fat Fuck,” something that induced hilarity in the crowd. He delivered it in his kinetic, rapid-fire manner. His verbal gymnastics were impressive throughout the show.
Clarke’s poetry and conversation are peppered by F-bombs and other swear words. His colourful language, extensive vocabulary, wit, and vast cultural knowledge are in keeping with psychology studies showing swearing fluency is tied to intelligence and creativity. Dr. Clarke is a Renaissance man. The audience came to hear a poet. They got that, a stand-up comedian who rivals Dave Chappelle or Ricky Gervais, a Phil Leotardo (“The Sopranos”) impressionist, a gifted actor, and a jazz singer. His 2016 music collaboration with Hugh Cornwell seems to have unlocked—or unleashed—his inner crooner. He serenaded the assembly with Vernon Duke’s “I Can’t Get Started” and Jerome Kern and Buddy DeSylva’s “Look for the Silver Lining.” His baritone did them justice.
JCC doesn’t dabble in comedy, it’s an integral part of his identity. He donned his mafioso persona with relish. He joked about having to buy his wife a prosthetic leg for Christmas. It was a stocking stuffer. He observed that marriage starts with a heart and diamond, but two weeks later, you’re looking for a club and spade. These sentiments don’t apply to his relationship. He’s been happily married to his wife, Evie, for over 30 years. She was present with both legs intact. He expressed his regard for her with his poem, “I’ve Fallen in Love with My Wife.”
His enduring popularity decades after first performing at the Embassy Club, is a product of his keen observation, gritty honesty, and comedic delivery. These were all apparent as he recited long and short poems, such as, “Hire Car,” the wretched “Beasley Street,” the gentrified “Beasley Boulevard,” “Home Honey, I’m High,” and “Necrophilia.” He spoke about naming a work “Lydia,” which unfortunately was the title of a song by Dean Friedman, the most litigious AOR artist. He observed necessity is the mother of invention—not Frank Zappa—and renamed his micro poem, “Lydia, the Girl with an Itch.” Litigation avoided.
A problem with the health care system is its attempts to clear hospital beds of the elderly, especially if they have dementia, to make room for younger or more exotic patients. JCC joked about nurses wanting to see patients swiftly off (this mortal coil) and recited “Bed Blocker Blues.” The poem condemns the system: Hail seizure, hello stroke / So many pills a bloke could choke / I can’t decide from what to croak / Things are gonna get worse.
Clarke has been labelled a punk poet because he started performing in the late 70s. His talents defy that definition. In person, he’s a thoughtful, humble, dapper, erudite man concerned about mortality and determined to enjoy the present. He made the time spent in his presence laugh-out-loud funny and memorable for the audience. Creating emotional feel-good memories is the acme of performance and the stuff of legends.
~
John Cooper Clarke online; Home | Facebook
Words and photos by Maria Meli you can find her author profile here: –
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