Every gig I've Ever Seen #34. Bo Diddley.

Bo Diddley. Glasgow Arches. 1984

There was a minibus going to Glasgow. Me and flat-mates Craig and Andrea had gotten involved in the University Music Society. I got voted as President. Not bad out of about, ooh, 7 people. We joined so that we could arrange tickets and transport for ourselves, if truth be told. Nobody ever played Stirling as there was no point: stuck halfway between Glasgow and Edinburgh any touring bands would just play those two before going off to Aberdeen. For that reason the Student Union was pretty useless. So, the best way for us to get to gigs and back was with transport, paid for out of student funding. We’d see a gig we’d like advertised, vote on buying a dozen tickets and book the mini-van. We were supposed to help musicians with facilities but I never got involved in that.

So, Bo Diddley. Again. At the time one of my courses was Popular Music in the 20th Century. Stirling used the 2-semesters-a-year system with a Major subject and add-on units to build up a degree. I also did a term of Fine art in The Twentieth Century. All these courses were later scrapped – useless liberal Arts costing money, who needs ‘em? Thank God, the Tories were there to sort out such nonsense! Anyway, the Music course was great. One of the lecturers was Otto Krayoli, a wonderful man who’d fled Hungary in 1956 when the Russian tanks rolled in and wrote what became a standard text; ”An Introduction To Music”. Others were old Blues fans who saw Big Bill Broonzy in 1956. Occassionally, a student would give a guest talk. I gave mine on Chuck Berry. The night of the gig I had to turn in an essay the next day entitled, I kid ye not; “Can White Men Sing The Blues?”  

 

So, we were up for some Bo. The Arches was literally that. A small vaulted basement. So small that Bo and band had to climb the same spiral staircase to get in as the audience. The band came on first and warmed the crowd up. Suddenly, Bo was on the stairs ready to go on. People were smiling, shaking his hand. Bo Diddley! Standing next to us! The music wasn’t particularly loud so I told him about my essay. “Can they?” “Sure. If they get their shit together” That was the opening quote of my essay. I wrote it overnight when I got back to Stirling. Got an A+. 

 

Bo had a beige, 70s looking suit with wide lapels. In fact it was a beige, 70s suit and looked a bit acrylic. John Lee Hooker once said that white boys didn’t know how to play the blues, “coz they don’t know what it is to wear nylon socks!” It was a really intimate crowd and Glaswegians are great. If they like you. They liked Bo. The set wasn’t as hard-hitting as the Lyceum show I’d seen. A lot more robotics and games with the guitar. It was an act. I knew this because I’d seen it and that seemed to rob the spontaneity from it. Strange feeling. When he played it fast though, it was mesmerising. His hands like pistons, fluid movement, hammering out the timeless beat. A Legend but working hard for it.

Every gig I've Ever Seen #22. Bo Diddley.

Bo Diddley. Lyceum.1983

The Lyceum had been one of London’s bigger concert venues and hosted everyone from the Stones to Captain Beefheart. Lennon played his first post Beatle gig there. Saw an advert for Bo Diddley and told loads of mates that we should go. It was a Sunday, which was unusual, but years later I realised that Sundays are cheaper to hire for promoters. Bo Diddley was legend but the appeal was, ahem, more selective by the early 80s. First rule of Fame: keep doing what you’re famous for and you’ll eventually become fashionable again.

Quite a large group of us went and we spent the afternoon getting ripped at home. Got to the venue and sat in the balcony. Gorgeous old theatre and heaving. Loads of rockabillies with the quiffs, check shirts, jeans-with-turn-ups bought from Flip.

First band on were King Kurt who’d had a small hit and TOTP appearance with the slap-stick rockabilly, “Destination Zululand”. They had enormous quiffs and played it for laughs. The mosh-pit was a blur of flailing limbs due to the fashion for punching your arms out in time to the music. The guitarist had a huge piece of rectangular cardboard stuck over his guitar in a homage to Bo’s guitar of the same shape. They improvised some lyrics which included,  “Bo Diddley, Show Us Your Willy!” Last song saw bags of flour thrown all over the band and front row. And feathers. A real mess. The only time I’ve ever seen a stage swept before the next act.

Next act was The Pirates. Mick Green was the original heavy rock guitar hero. They’d had one massive hit in “Shakin’ All Over” in about 1573 which guaranteed them Rock immortality. Johnny Kidd, who’d originally led the group, was long dead. A power trio, now, dressed in bouncers’ tuxedos. They looked like big burly blokes coz they were. They were great. Really heavy R&B.

Then, Bo Diddley. Now he really did help write the Book! Wow. Chuck, Bo and, er, Little were the holy trinity of black rocknrollers. And here he was! His guitar sound was incredible. Really loud, dirty, then soft. He fiddled with the knobs and made it “talk”. He did some robotics which got the crowd going. The pounding beat was great and it wasn’t prettied up. This was the beat copied by the Stones and all those other bands learning their craft in the distant dawn of the Sixties. The Stones toured the UK with Bo in 1963 and he told them to keep at it, don’t give up. Maybe it was the young, rowdy crowd but all the other times I saw him he was more bluesy and didn’t really play the old hits. If he did they were done softer. This night he rocked.

Cracking stuff and our gang enjoyed it, which pleased me as it had been on my say-so that we went. Vanity? I’d spread the Word. Unlike previous generations we can go back and hear the old recordings and see the archive of Rock. 100 years from now people will be able to get an idea of how Bo Diddley looked and sounded. You can’t do that with Victorian Music Hall or  Shakespearean actors circa 1600. If I’m ever a grand-parent I can speak of how I saw some of the Greats and they’ll be able to click, download and see what I’m talking about. And, yea, the Greats will live on. And Bo Diddley IS one of the Greats. Even if, sadly, he is dead.

The Lyceum closed down for years and re-opened with The Lion King, based on the Disney cartoon film of the same name, with music by Elton John…