The Ritz

It’s impossible to park in Manchester even on a Sunday but I manage it somehow. I’m playing an acoustic gig for Oxjam here and expecting the customary chaos that so often comes of such events. I needn’t have worried. I am meeted and greeted by Lindsey the hairdresser who is wonderful and shows me around and prevents me getting lost. I'd like to dedicate my opening poem to her retrospectively. I meet up with Damian who’s also playing, we're in a third floor dressing room with a trouser press and a walk in wardrobe. We discuss failing health, broken hearts and The Italian Job. I go on at exactly the time I am given and play a short acoustic set to a decent crowd and all seems as it should be. The Ritz is a pedigree venue with a sleazy rock n roll history. I saw The Fall here years ago when they seemed somehow vital. It hasn’t changed in 20 years and hopefully it never will. There are loads of bands on. Bonehead is DJing and we catch up outside the venue with a beer. He gets a parking ticket and moves the car just in time to head off the clampers. I play just the four songs; A Man Afraid, Batman, Confessions of a Sperm Donor and Calm me Down…I had planned on others [as you do] but the stage manager is running like clockwork. I deposit albums on the CD stall and sneak off after catching the tail end of Damian and Mikes set. I quite enjoyed myself, was home for Corry and chips and that was that. Meantime I just picked up a review for the new album from soundsexp as follows…

“Smiths associate” Vinny Peculiar’s 7th album is a curious one: backed by Bonehead (ex-Oasis), Mike Joyce (ex-Smiths) and Ben Knott (ex-Jeep, World of Twist), he kills off his alter ego in the first song ‘Vinny Peculiar is Dead’, sounds like the epitome of melancholy on the caustic ‘Happiest Man in the World’ and concludes with the instrumental, introspective title track, performed on a piano with a terminal illness. A sense of romantic misery is more than palpable! There’s melodic relief in the 70s glam beat of ‘Kiss Me (I’m A Social Worker)’ and the summer Sunday pop of ‘Lazy Bohemians’ but even then his lyrics are tart and cutting. There are times you can hear Nick Cave and Johnny Cash in these powerpop meets kitchen sink drama songs but a better comparison might be Stephen Duffy for the romance-against-the-odds, me-against-the-world, railing-against-the-dying-of-the-light feeling of this record. Most peculiar…

It’s not a bad review and whilst Goodbye is probably the most introspective thing I’ve done lyrically when Tim and I recorded it we were laughing all the way to the bank of guilty pleasures that included Supertramp, Thin Lizzy and [harder to admit to this one] Yes. So for me it was possibly the most light-hearted recording experience I think I’ve had to date. Obviously this didn’t quite transfer what with the songs being what they are. Nice also that the reviewer picked up on Stephen Duffy. I was a big fan of The Lilac Time in times gone by and I guess I still am and not just because he’s Villa fan although naturally that helps. I think he ended up writing for Robbie Williams though I could be wrong. This week the band are out and about again on the second leg of the tour. I’m looking forward to catching the whole of Miles and Erica at some point. Like I said to him the other week; Mission Drive practically saved my life. I must tell you about it sometime. VP

METRO GIG GUIDE

Alan Wilkes, aka Vinny Peculiar, wraps decades of pop culture and decades of personal history in immaculately crafted pop gems. If this sounds daunting, rest assured then a VP album is first and foremost glorious fun. His most recent album, last year’s The Fall And Rise Of VinnyPeculiar, is his most accomplished work yet, as he has the happy knack of getting better and better. Spotting the references in his songs is a pleasant activity. He mentions Billy Fisher – Billy Liar, as portrayed by Tom Courtney in the John Schlesinger film and a character called Travis, as in ‘like Travis lost beneath the desert sky’. The penny drops. This isn’t the band or the Bickle of Taxi Driver but Harry Dean Stanton’s character in Wim Wenders’ Paris, Texas. All this name-dropping makes a direct connection to the listener; we can all remember where we were when we first saw Paris, Texas. But Peculiar’s achievement is to bring universality to his more personal songs too. Peculiar has a great deal in common with Morrissey, but is more ready to admit to the gentle bewilderment of middle age. Imagine if Mozza had stayed at home and hadn’t moved away (living first in LA and then Rome). Imagine if The Smiths hadn’t disbanded. The presence of Smiths drummer Mike Joyce in Peculiar’s band drives home the comparison. Bass duties are handled by Bonehead from Oasis. Manchester’s waifs and strays could do a lot worse than be under his peculiar wing. Mike Butler

Manchester

It’s the day after the day of the gig that was …and what a gig it was too. There’s nothing like playing at home, in the basement of TV 21 [easily the best club in the city] surrounded by all manner of futuristic paraphernalia and in the company of friends and loved ones we…well...I think the term is ROCKED. The sound was rickety pooh [as someone so eloquently stated] but the vibe was a hyper-max treasure trove good feeling. We played a blinder. I saw loads people I hadn’t seen in awhile who were most forthcoming in their praises and for a few hours everything that ever was made perfect sense. People enjoyed the gig and you can’t ask for more than a full house paying attention and engaging, especially in this town where pretty much everyone has been on Top of the Pops [I exaggerate-you know that- but you get the picture]. This sets us up nicely for the next leg of the tour which recommences on Halloween in Bilston at The Robin [which is in the West Midlands in case you were wondering as several people were when I mentioned it the other night]. This seems a suitable time to thank those without whom none of this would be possible so to Jeff we salute you for the driving and humping [never the right term but it’s the one to use apparently] and to Steve Petrico for putting us on and to Annie for feeding us. To Andy Woods for the label support and to Ben Cooke for being on the ball. To Craig Gannon for keeping it clean. Thank you. Thanks also to Damian Morgan and Mike Doyle for the captivating acoustic support. Alas finally, on a note of sadness, this was the day of all days that Bens dog DINGO died. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a closer more touching relationship between man and beast than was theirs. DINGO featured on the Fall and Rise album cover artwork and was quite the star of shoot. Our thoughts go out to all concerned, VP

Nottingham

I remember playing The Rescue Rooms like it was yesterday. It was in fact 2003 and I was doing a solo tour with Helene the band. I headlined that night [we took it in turns on the tour], the band had gone home early and I recall playing the gig to about 10 people but alas by the time the gig ended [and I really went for it as you do when there’s nothing to lose] the Rescue Rooms were deserted. And I mean deserted. The sound engineer was in the bar and the people who were there when the set started had all gone [to get the train I like to think!]. Of course I had no idea of this exodus as I really couldn’t see a thing what with the lights on stage and my ever failing eyesight. I think this is what they mean by paying your dues. So….these thoughts are with me as we arrive late afternoon at a venue that is notoriously hard to find; still I can remember exactly where it is much to the amusement of the band who don’t expect such confident directional directives form me…we usually reserve the final word on such matters to Ben. We decant and we load in. It hasn’t changed a jot. I remind the sound engineer we are not an EMO band and would he mix us vocal heavy, it’s a very loud stage and the acoustic keeps feeding back. The hotels just down the road and walk-able, which is a bonus. We hang around for food which is Mexican and excellent, check in, walk back and catch the last couple of songs from Miles and Erica who is dressed like a nineteen thirties silent film diva, snow white cotton dress porcelain skin ruby lips. She looks kind of other worldly…you can’t help but be drawn in. They go down a storm. By this time I’m starting to feel a bit out of sorts, I’ve come over a bit, well, faint. I put it down to sleep deprivation…that and old age! The gig happens. I make reference to my impending heart attack and miss the first bars of OPERATION like I wasn’t even there. I’m having a mini concentration crisis. I never quite get it back and I still feel bad about not doing an encore but I really did feel wobbly as hell. I forget all about the CD sales malarkey and disappear into the night in search of bed rest. I hearby apologise for the lack of sparkle and the absence of engagement. Remarkably several people have since commented on the gig positively so all is not lost. It just felt like it was at the time. Later that night at 3am I’m joined in bed by Bonehead who tells me a joke about a psycho path, it takes him a few goes, you have to laugh really. And then we’re out for the count without any help from hotel security. We’re home tomorrow. It’s been a busy week. VP

Bristol

It’s been awhile since I was in Bristol, city of the arts and home to Cousin Martin. On the way down we stop off for food and luxuriate in a lovely little place on the outskirts of town, located by Boneheads uncanny knack of pub spotting…should you ever need a pub just ask the man. We arrive in Bristol and we’re early which is nice so we load in and loaf around. I spend some considerable time looking for a parking machine that actually works but there isn’t one and leave a sign in the van to this effect. Miles and Erica arrive and we say hello and swan around on the riverbank. It’s a great location. The Thelka is a boat and the gig is in the hold. We are a short drive from the hotel which is nice change from last night where we had a 10 mile trip across town. Sound checks out without a hitch,we check in and get a taxi back to the venue just in time to catch the end of Miles and Ericas set. They’re playing a Wonderstuff song the title of which eludes me. I love the Wonderstuff so having Miles on board for these dates was always going to be a good idea and at some point soon I’ll catch all of Miles and Erica’s set. We make plans with them for a beer at some forthcoming shows but for now they are driving home immediately post gig. Before the gig I stretch guitar strings that I changed earlier. The acoustic guitar looks like it’s been on the road for years and it’s all mucky with sweat and from last nights gig that was so hot [as previously mentioned] that the feedback buster [which is like a rubber stopper that plugs the sound hole to prevent feedback] has in part melted so there are drips of rubber residue all over the sound board/scratch-place. I have to scrape them off with a pen knife; the value of my Taylor diminishes accordingly! I just about get the whole string stretching guitar tech thing together before we go on. Whilst we’re on the subject of GEAR it must be said that despite the Fender Twin meltdown in BURY the Fender Bassman is proving to be a most welcome replacement, borrowed from Bonehead. I’m now running the Bassman through the speakers of my old Fender Twin. So there you go…a rare moment of geekdom. Our gig is a decent affair, the crowd is quieter than some [a southern thing I quip into the void] although they seem to wake up with a start once I start talking football [this always happens to the quieter respectful type audiences]; there’s always someone willing to engage about football. That said one needs to proceed with caution. Did I ever tell you about the Newcastle gaff at the Sunderland gig, well, seriously it was touch and go for minute. After the show I meet up with Mike Hagan who I’ve not seen for 20 years, we were former nursing colleagues in the 1980s so there’s plenty to catch up on and plenty we didn’t have time for. I only hope it’s not another 20 years before we do it all again. It was lovely to see him. The rest of the night was spent drinking strong draft lager on deck with various permeations of Jeff, the band and Cousin Martin. Around midnight Pete Doherty plays an impromptu gig and we sneak in for a peak, The Thelka is now suitably rammed and the kids love it. I found it all strangely amusing but that might just be my olden world approach to credibility as people seemed to be more interested in his sobriety/notoriety than any kind of performance [which wasn’t bad still I’ll leave it there as I fear I’m knotting my ties at this celebrity juncture]. We get taxis back to the hotel and decline the kebab stop off that didn’t seem such a good idea once we actually saw it as to quote Jeff it was all kicking off good-style so we get Chinese food at 3am in a restaurant some fifty yards from the hotel and it’s perfect. VP

Coventry

We only confirmed the Coventry gig a week ago and I’ve no idea really what kind of set up to expect. Ben picks me up after lunch and we collect Jeff before heading out to Bowden for Mike and Bonehead. We arrive early evening, the directions hold up, the venue is on the side of a canal, like the opposite lock in Brum. On arrival we catch the tail end of a recording session, there’s a Harp on a stage, a woman harpist [we think although it's hard to tell in the dark] is checking a lap top and a couple of hippy minstrels are moving gear around. They’ve just finished. We say hello and Rich makes the tea. This venue feels like a proper modern art space. My eyes start to adjust and we load in. It transpires that Rich the venue owner/ manager is producing an album during daytime hours and running a club at night. This would explain the snow white tan and the mellow manners. We immediately warm to the set up. Sound check is over and done with in no time, more ineteresting is tonights support, the incredible Thomas Traux. I say incredible and I mean incredible. This guy builds his own instruments and performs the most attractive alternative song/pieces accompanied by modified drum machines and bellow esque horn adaptions [I’m stuggling to describe them here], but do check out his site. We watch most of his set back at the gig before we’re on. He’s an interactive magician and an engineering wonder. We were all captivated. It’s not often you get to see something quite so original done so well. We grab a photo with him the next day as we’re leaving and do the album swop thing. Our gig is a decent affair, we have no complaints, the sound is great and the energy factor is high, the air conditioning is broken hence this turns into one of the hottest gigs ever know to man. Afterwards we mingle and drink and smoke accordingly. All of us now back on cigarettes after only three days on the road [except jeff who has more sense]. It’s pathetic really. I go without a fag for months at a time and then we’re away for a few days and another culture seems to become me or something like that, a poor excuse I know. Since I’ve been home I’ve not bothered. We say goodbye to Taylor Johns the next day, it’s been an inspiring stay in an inspiring place. There was some talk of it being under threat of closure, lets hope to god it never does. VP

Liverpool

We are playing the Cavern and I don’t want to get too hung up on it but the legendary venues all round reputation for promotion is to be frank piss poor. I know this both from personal experience and from talking to any number of Liverpool musicians over the years. We could just as easily have booked the Barfly which is a proper venue in comparison all be it minus the legendary connotations. The Cavern is basically an underground fun pub and the theme of the pub is the Beatles. I have good friends who make a decent living on the back of it all. We arrive around 5pm and I’ve already called the promoter and left messages but now they tell me he's on holiday. Nobody knows whats going on, nobody meets us, greets us, no one advises on parking and there’s no drinks, no food and no hospitality. There’s also been no promotion. No wonder it’s reputation is so dire. Here is a venue dining out on it’s name alone and it’s not even the original building. I try not to let it get to me. Steve Roberts, who’s an old friend of mine and playing with us here tonight takes a more balanced pragmatic view [he’s played here even more times than I have]; but we both agree it could be so much better. At least Jay the sound engineer is here, apologising for the lack of organisation and after the three flight load we sound check and drift off for food. Still there’s no sign of anyone who might know anything about the gig, the guest list, the stage times takes and I can feel my anxiety levels rising. We get Pizza Expressed. On return to the venue we are met by the manager who finally sorts the guest list, which is something I suppose. Then I’m off to the Grapes with some health service friends. Back at the gig things kick off with Maudlin Rich who play to an almost empty room which is a great shame as they are a great band. It doesn’t get that much better for the rest of us. Steve Roberts set is sharp and sweet, ‘Photie Man’ captivates and conjures up the freak shows of New Brighton in the 1970’s. I had asked Steve if he’d play Unsteady from the olden days ; he didn’t but I forget the reasoning why. We are onstage at 10 and we have a small crowd…I mean really small [54 people someone counted!]but a crowd none the less and despite some dressing room consternation as to what the feck we are doing here we manage to hit the full on collective show time button and deliver. I mean sound wise and performance I felt we really raised our game. Everyone enjoyed it, reaction was overwhelmingly positive and you cant ask for more than that. Several old mates attended from bands I played in way back. Jenny the Confessor also put in an rare and welcome appearance so it had to be good and despite the venues inadequacies it was BLOODY TOP, as Jeff would say, VP

York

We’re playing Fibbers; last time I was there in 1998 I was playing guitar in a Liverpool trip hop band called Goldwire who recorded copiously in some of longest sessions I can ever recall at Pearl Studios in a vain attempt to woo the likes of Sony and V2 who attended showcases in rehearsal rooms where plots were hatched but alas it all come to nothing. We didn’t do many gigs and when we did the gear kept breaking down, samplers would spontaneously trigger themselves and the DAT machines time code was never its own; I suppose we were at war with the technical limitations of the times. Nowadays we’d have just got a decent lap top. Here in the present we are playing the first of five band shows is succession. James, who’s filming the show arrives early, it’s the first time we’ve actually met although it doesn’t feel like it as he has helped me out of many a technical web design scrape. It’s nice to meet at last. He sets us a couple of cameras and we sound check with relative ease. There’s a book I remember reading about a David Bowie impersonator set in York a few years ago called ‘Slow Down Arthur, Stick to 30’ [I think...]. I just can’t remember the name of the author but it was truly inspiring. He was working as a ghost at one point as there are a lot of them here. I’ll have to Google it later. We check into the hotel, mess around a bit, get ready and are back on the streets eating chips and beans from one of those city centre kebab vans an hour later. It’s a lovely mild evening and somehow we’ve missed the support bands as we’ve loitered too long in the hotel. Whenever this happens I feel like I’ve missed out somehow but I realise this is not exactly a rational thought, still, for all I know they could be the next Wishbone Ash! That was a joke only I got sorry. The gig is good, reactions are positive, and the improvisational sales man in me manages to off load CDs in exchange for hard cash which is a cut above the I owe you’s I have been known to accept in past moments of weakness. Later on we are drinking hard liquor shots in a late night town centre bar and I’m catching up on life and death with an old friend and Bonehead is threatening to play the legendary major minor song back at the hotel. I can't wait. Now where did I pack those paracetamol? VP

The Met

The Met is quite posh really and it’s the first date on the UK tour. We’re sat outside the Lads club listening to the football; Bens a little off colour, United have won and the Villa are winning. A gang of youths are loitering opposite us and tormenting their dog. It’s one of those rot viler types. They deserve to be bitten and no it’s not clever and it’s not funny. We are on the cusp of saying something but somehow we don’t. Filing past us they ask for money. I decline and they call me a Gay German which amuses me no end although I try not to show it. They swagger off out of view as the tension eases and we’re back to the football, talking about de escalation technique and the non confrontational approach to street hoodlumery; then the others arrive. We load the gear and set off. I’m driving, Boneheads driving, Bens driving, Mike and Jeff are spared. Like I said it’s only just down the road. Tony the promoter meets us out front and it’s nice to catch up with him again. It was Tony who put me on earlier this year in Norwich, I’d also played The Met Bar a while back at a kind wine and dine cabaret event which was brilliant as it happens. The crew help us load in [always a bonus], the sound check is a pleasure and the food is just wonderful. We’re all eating in the restaurant downstairs and like I said it’s kind of posh really. Sean Redmund is supporting us and he’s really good, a truly talented left beat singer songwriter; check out his site www.myspace.com/seanredmund . He has a load of classy songs, one in particular is about taking acid. I discuss with him the chord progressions and just about understand the technical explanation, harmonically all wrong but somehow right at the same time. I talk to him after the gig about taking acid and the myths of madness and the creatively possessed and as I do I feel like a dad lecturing a son on the perils of hedonism. It’s not that I’m a radical anti drugs campaigner, just that having worked in the mental health care system I’ve seen a lot of drug induced schizophrenia and you wouldn’t wish that on anyone believe me. Our gig passes away like a gentle old man in his sleep. It’s a smallish crowd and a deafening silence rings out between songs, people are stood and sat in the back of the hall. An air of respectful appreciation prevails and despite my anecdotes which, lets face it, manage to, on a good night, get what you might call a reaction there is little real engagement. Partly this is down to the fact that the venue holds 300 and we are playing to no more than 40. In short it’s an odd but pleasurable show despite the disappointing turn out. On the bright side Mark from Bitterapple is here taking photos and it’s good to meet him properly at last…it must be at least two years since we were last in his viewfinder. I look forward to seeing the results. Wednesdays gig at Fibbers in York is being filmed by a crew of web designers from Harrogate and thanks to Dave Hardman for the pictures. Forward the buff. VP

Sore Throat

I have a cold. I’ve been sat here all morning, moping and feeling sorry for myself. I’ve answered a few emails and wrote a rubbish poem called recycle bin which is where it has ended up; a mere click away from oblivion. Mike is still in the US, Bonehead, like me, smitten by cold and in bed with the night nurse. Ben, who hasn’t been ill since 1993, is cutting long grass in Oldham and wearing the hat he’s been threatening to wear onstage. It’ll happen one day when we least expect it. I’m sure we’ll all pick up health wise in time for the weekend when we play Bury Met [on Sat 6th Oct] which incidentally is a really nice gig and only just down the road. Sean Redmund is doing the support; it wont be so long before he's a household name [ridiculous term that really], but Sean is a great writer and you should really come see him [even if you just stay for him it'll be worth it...I promise]. The food is also wonderful at The Met and Bury boasts the largest TK Max in the country so why not make a day of it. Ignore that bit about TK Max…I hate the place. It's like the Tesco of clothing retail and since we got TKMaximied the retro specialist shops seem to have all withered and died and I miss them. I know…this is going nowhere and I know..I've been to The Max on many an occasion..I just dont like them. I was also in PRIMARK in Liverpool the other day buying black jeans and penguin shoes. I don't know why I'm telling you this. Lets blame it on an attack of grumpy old man thinking. It happens. On the VP PR front, [OK, so we're back to that old chest nut] -I just sent off some pictures off to the METRO, the free paper people, who are running a feature on all the shows on the tour. The METRO is now distributed all over the place…and most often found in my experience on the train, comforting the commuters. OK... like I said I’m not really 100%. That Salford Lads Club Bike Ride passed off into history. You might have caught a three second clip of it on the local TV. The usual suspects were present and correct and they played Every Day is Like Sunday to send them on their way. I think Craig played on that he was telling me awhile ago. Craig and I are due a big night out at some point, we just seem incapable of actually planning it. When all the bikes were off I did a little chin wigging with Hazel Blears our local MP bigging up the club as you do, she was very nice and of course she too thought I was in the Smiths, I thought to myself...not another one please...before gently reminding her of the facts. I was also lucky enough to meet some inspiring representatives of the future generation in the shape of three young women DJs pictured here from www.myspace.com/sameteensmanchester who I’d last seen when I gigged at the Koffee pot. They were very sweet. They also love Morrisey and asked me for my oppinion on him. I said something nice I think, yes I have heard of him, sure I have. He's the guy who's always miserable now isn't he?? Or perhaps I just imagined it. Check out their myspace if you a minute. More last minute gig news…we are playing in COVENTRY next Friday night, a very late addition to the tour, confirmed today, details on tour dates page. If you’re from those parts do come along. I used to be in the Smiths you now...here we go again, I'm starting to wonder, like I say, I'm not 100%...VP x