At Last! After 16 years of waiting, I was going to get the
chance to see my all-time favourite band play live. Within hours of
receiving the news of the show via "Holding Together", my cheque was
in the post, having decided that, no matter what, I was going to go to
the show. How would I get down to London? Where would I stay
overnight? How could I, a university student, afford the cost of two
days in London? Who cared! Having missed the '94 show when I only
found out about it the day before, there was no way I was going to
miss this one too.
A few weeks later, there I was on a coach from Manchester to
London, having skipped two days worth of lectures to make the trip.
Not having found anywhere to stay overnight, I decided that I would
spend the night on the coach station before catching an early coach
back to Manchester. I thought about all my class-mates, sitting there
in stuffy lecture rooms for hours while I sat in air-conditioned
comfort with my walkman blasting out "The Light" as loud as I dared
have it. Where would I rather have been? The lecture rooms of course!
(Just kidding!!!!!)
Arriving in London with about six hours spare before the show, I
decided to do the "tourist thing" and see some sights before catching
the tube out to Shepherds Bush for the show. After about ten minutes,
I got bored with that (seen one big old building, seen them all!), and
decided to go check out the scene outside the venue. I arrived
expecting crowds of people hanging around chatting and doing other
things (legal and otherwise!), but found I was the only one there! Ah
well, I guess I should have known better given the track record for UK
shows. OK, what could I do on my own for four hours? You're right, go
to the pub!
Two hours later, out I staggered in search of food. Trust me to
pick the pub used by the staff from the BBC TV centre just up the road
(those guys can drink!). Only one thing for it in this situation, a
nice greasy all-day breakfast. An hour before doors-open time,
suitably fortified by a large plate of eggs, bacon, sausage and
tomato, I arrived outside the "Bottom Line", which turned out to be a
converted cinema. Over the next hour, more people drifted up, and
everyone stood around chatting while we waited to get in. Spotting my
Jefferson Airplane T-shirt, someone asked if I'd seen them before. As
I explained to them that I'd actually got it from a record shop in
Nottingham years ago, it suddenly dawned on me that, at 26, I was one
of the youngest there! As we waited, we all compared past experiences,
and stood in awe of a couple of guys who recounted the tale of how
they had caught every UK show back in 1968. Hell, I thought, I hadn't
even been born then!
8pm, they finally opened the doors and the first priority was,
BEER! Second priority? T-shirts. Unfortunately, someone had got the
exchange rate the wrong way round, and priced them up at £40 each.
Immediately, a large group of us started trying to explain the error
to the poor guy (one of the road crew) on the stall. After a few
minutes, we succeded and at £20, everyone was happy, so proving that
people power isn't dead!
During the support set, The Cosmic Charlies, I noticed that
everyone was hanging round the bar at the back of the venue, and
no-one was actually by the stage. This was too good a chance to miss!
The only dilemma was, stage centre by Marty, or by Paul? It was a
close thing, but I eventually decided on the centre, hoping that Paul
would wander about a little. As the Charlies' finished, everyone began
to gravitate towards the stage, and I found myself standing next to
one of the guys I'd been talking too outside. As we waited patiently
for the road-crew to finish clearing away the Charlies' gear, a figure
with a long white pony-tail sticking out from under a baseball cap
wandered on stage and began checking Marty's mic and guitar.
"Who's that?", a voice behind me asked.
"Marty's dad", someone else replied.
"You're kiddin'? How old is he?"
"Dunno, but he don't look like he's ready to croak yet!"
"Hmmm", I thought, smiling to myself, "Very subtle!"
Suddenly, "One, two, one, two." a deep voice boomed out of one
of the other mics.
"Is that Paul?" the guy next to me asked.
"Damn right it is!" I replied, suddenly becoming aware of the
fact that the whole place had gone very quiet.
Satisfied with his mic, Paul wandered off, and I turned to those
around me and said, grinning,
"Well, thats it, we may as well go home now!"
"I bloody well hope not!" someone else joked.
Finally, at ten past ten, the house lights dimmed, and out
wandered Jack to a huge roar (well, huge for 200 people), and he was
soon joined by the others. A short delay while they got their
instruments sorted out, then, with a restrained "Here we go" from
Paul, they launched into "Crown Of Creation", the first of eight
Airplane numbers that night. The first thing everyone noticed was how
well Diana Mangano fitted into the overall sound.
"Who the hell's that?"
"Dunno, but she's good."
"Too right!", were just some of the comments I overheard
concerning Diana, who looked absolutely fantastic in a short silver
skirt and dark top.
Also noticeable was how active Jack was. In the past he has
always stood quietly in the background, but here he was prancing
around the stage like a cross between Chuck Berry and AC/DC's Angus
Young.
"Looks like Jack's been at the vitamins again!" I joked to the
guy next to me.
Then came "Somebody to love", where Diana showed just how well
she can fill Grace's shoes. This was followed by a lengthy pause due
to a SERIOUS sound problem.
This was followed (eventually), by "Count On Me", and yet
another pause. Marty began berrating the sound engineer, saying,
"Gimme some volume....Volume......V.........V..O..L!"
To which Paul added
"Another five minutes and we're sending you to work with Neil
Young!"
And then
"Are there any sound mixers out there?"
"Get a monkey, it'd do a better job!" I added LOUDLY.
At one point, the gaps between the songs were longer than the
songs themselves, which were plagued by extreme feedback. Every time
the feedback manifested itself, Marty's face would twist into a pained
expression, and you could see him flinch.
With the audience now well and truly warmed up, the band began
mixing the older material with songs off "Deep Space/Virgin Sky". One
of the first was "Shadowlands", which included Paul's usual female
serial killer of politicians intro (tailored to the UK audience by
replacing "Republican" with "Conservative".) During one long pause,
while the sound engineer grappled with the sound problem, Marty asked
if anyone had a certain kind of smoke. This was answered almost
instantly as a small white object was thrown up onto the stage, which
he quickly gave to "Slick" Aguilar.
It was about this point when someone just behind me shouted
"Play something SHE doesn't know!"
Diana obviously heard this and replied with a big grin before
playfully sticking her tongue out at us. This was probably the only
time during the evening where she looked anywhere near happy, as she
was suffering from very bad voice problems. On the soundboard tapes of
the show, she can be heard telling Paul after "Dark Ages",
"I can't f*cking sing!"
After this, Paul asked her before almost every song if she thought she
could do it, and if she needed any help. Despite the problems, she
still managed to put on a good performance, although she did have
problems with some songs.
The loudest cheer of the night greeted Marty's intro to "Comin'
Back To Me", which he explained they were dedicating to Jerry Garcia,
as he had played guitar on the studio version.
Later, an unfamiliar introduction had everyone puzzled, until we
recognised it as "Sally Go 'Round The Roses". Everybody though that
this was a very bold move, and was very impressed by Diana's
performance. As it ended, I turned to the guy next to me and said,
"Looks like she's been at the Great Society albums!"
"Yeah, but will they do 'Father Bruce'?!!"
At times the band showed how, even though Kantner, Balin and
Casady are in their mid-50s, they can still rock. During a driving
"3/5s Of A Mile..." I turned to see a couple of lads next to me, who
weren't even born when "Dragonfly" was released, head-banging!
"Now", I thought to myself, "I've seen it all!"
After an energetic version of "Volunteers", which saw Marty
standing on the monitors exhorting us (as usual) to "Fight
back!..Fight back!", the band left the stage. They soon returned,
however, for an encore (There's no way we were going to let them go
without a good length show). First came "Ganja Of Love", the intro of
which included all the obligatory drugs jokes. They finally closed the
show with a storming "Other Side Of This Life", complete with Marty's
ad-lib;
"Well, I think I'm gonna go back to England, Back to the Bottom
Line. The 10-cent sound system they got there don't make for a very
good time!"
When they finally left the stage at five to midnight, they all
looked absolutely exhausted, but very happy.
"Well, that looks like that." I said to the guy next to me when
it became apparent that they were not coming back out.
"Looks like it, see you at the next one?"
"Yeah, whenever that is!" I replied, and with that he wandered
off, never to be seen again. I've no idea who he was, or where he was
from, But then again, that's all part of the JS experience. Everyone's
there for the same reason, and for the duration of the show, the
barriers fall and we're all one big happy family.
Out on the street, even an hour after the end of the show, there
were still about twenty or thirty people standing around talking and
admiring the two huge white limo's waiting for the band. A sudden
flurry of activity at the door caught everyones attention.
"Who's that?"
"The drummer and guitarist. What're their names again?"
"Can't remember. They're good though."
was just one conversation I overheard.
A second commotion, and the lowest common denominator came into
play as about a dozen guys surrounded a slightly surprised Diana. (I
have to admit that I was one of them!) Despite all she had been
through during the show with her voice, she was perfectly happy to
sign anything offered before retreating to the safety of a limo.
Despite the problems, she said that she looked forward to a return
visit in the future.
Much larger gatherings greeted Jack and Marty, who stayed for
ages chatting happily to everyone, and telling us all about the
planned visits of Tuna and Wolfpack at the beginning of 1996.
For me, the biggest kick of the night came when I was talking to
Paul, the last out of the venue, who was almost ignored by most people
still around. (They were all talking to Jack!) As he has always been
my second favourite Airplane member (no prizes for guessing who's
first), I was not going to miss a chance to talk to him.
"Great show, well worth all the years of waiting" I told him.
"Thanks a lot, We're coming back next summer for some more
shows" he replied with a big grin.
Hearing that, my face lit up and, as he walked past me to get into the
limo, he squeezed my arm, grinning again, and asked
"See you there?"
"You bet" I grinned back, adding "Any idea when?"
"No, but we'll let you know" he shouted over his shoulder as he
got into the limo.
By this time, I was absolutely flying, having seen the best live
show I'd ever been to, and then getting it from Paul himself that they
wanted to come back for more shows!
As the limos departed, everyone decided that it was time to go.
For me, that meant catching a bus back into the city centre to get to
the coach station. On the journey, I got talking to someone else who
had been at the show and taped it on a DAT, but like an idiot, I
forgot to get his address. Arriving at the coach station, guess what!
It was closed!!!!! Luckily, there were two very helpful security
guards on duty, who told me where there was a 24-hour coffee shop. As
a result, I ended up spending the night on the streets of London, kept
warm by my memories of the show and occasional mugs of coffee. It
wasn't the warmest of nights, but what the hell, a little discomfort
never did anybody any harm, and after the show I'd just seen, it could
have been 50 below and I wouldn't have cared. I know that I'll
remember that show for a long time to come.
My enduring memory of the night has to be just as the bands
limos were driving away, when I thought I felt a drop of rain. I
glanced upwards, expecting to see heavy clouds, but instead saw a
completely clear sky filled with hundreds of stars. As an amateur
astronomer, the night sky has always been a thing of beauty to me, and
as I gazed upwards I thought to myself, "Yes, I want to go to the
stars!"
©: Adrian Brown, 1995.Return to the Jefferson Airplane Homepage.