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R.I.P My Local Music Scene
by Ian King
About
5 minutes walk from my house used to stand a tiny, tiny piece
of music history. Just a very small footnote to the tales
and legends of some bands, but the footnote was there all
the same. It was the ONLY place in our town devoted to and
designed for live music, the ONE place that regularly showcased
and encouraged local talent. And now it's gone. I'd like to
say it had died a noble death but the Army & Navy Pub was
just another victim of big business, another casualty in the
losing battle between individual character and conformity.
It wasn't
the prettiest of places granted and certainly not everyone's
venue of choice but it had a personality and character that
is so lacking in most of our local watering holes. Before
I carry on I'd like to give you a bit of background. I live
in Chelmsford, England, a largish town about 30 miles east
of London. It's what they call an "up & coming" town with
its population increasing almost as fast as the bloody house
prices. I've lived here for 5 years and I've got no intention
of going anywhere, as I really like the place. But there's
always got to be some fly shit in the sugar hasn't there?
Over the
past couple of years Chelmsford has seen a regrettable explosion
in "Corporate Chain" pubs and clubs. They're like the McDonalds
of the entertainment world, possessing a bland uniformity
that I imagine is supposed to be reassuring in some way. One
example is a place called "The Rat & Parrot" (yes they all
have shit names like that). I was visiting some friends of
mine in Bristol, which lies about 200 miles west of me, and
we ended up visiting the Bristol "Rat & Parrot". It was like
I'd never left Chelmsford, in fact it was so similar that
I actually experienced a momentary disorientation as I entered
the place. Admittedly this was helped somewhat by the Tequila
we'd been drinking all night, but for a second I really thought
I was back at home.
This sort
of place is what the "Army & Navy" has fallen prey to, a faceless,
spiritless carbon copy of a hundred other pubs across England.
Ok I'd be lying if I said the place had class, what with it's
scarred and pitted bar and the black wooden floor that almost
always stuck to your shoes, but that's one of the reasons
we liked it! The place had no delusions of grandeur and nor
did its patrons, they weren't there to look good, well not
specifically anyway, they were there to see whatever band
was on that night and enjoy the show.
When I
say it was a tiny piece of music history I mean that it was
one of those places where bands seemed to play before they
made it big. Oasis and Blur are probably the most notable
but we had all sorts playing there from Headswim to Sigue
Sigue Sputnik to The Damned and, yes, even when he was Captain
sensible and wearing his red beret he came back to the "Army'"
for another gig. Granted some of these bands are dubious accolades
at best but it was still something unique to my town and seeing
something unique pass away is always a sad thing.
The guy
who ran the place, Sean, was a music lover plain and simple.
He didn't mince his words and if a band were shit then he
told them straight but local bands knew that, unless their
demo tape they gave him really, really sucked, that he'd give
them a chance. He didn't care that it was their first gig
or they didn't have a following garunteed to bring a score
or so of customers in to pour their money behind the bar.
He gave them the chance and, perhaps more importantly, maybe
he gave some of those struggling, "never played a gig before"
bands the push to carry on going. We've got some great bands
in Chelmsford but now they've got nowhere in town to play.
Of course they've always gigged in other towns, and continue
to do so, but playing in your hometown to your home crowd
is a great feeling and it's a shame they can't do that anymore.
The first
band I was asked to review by the local magazine I sporadically
write for were a Chelmsford band called "Paolo" and they were
playing at the "Army'" so it's always gonna be a bit of a
special place for me and sparked a few hazy daydreams of becoming
the Spider Jerusalem of the music journalism world. Now of
course the "Army'" (it's retained the name) doesn't have bands.
It has karaoke and a DJ, pastel coloured furniture and spotlights.
The DJ's in these places are one of my main problems with
them, as they seem to want to treat every night like a Saturday.
You're sitting there quietly having a drink when the clock
strikes 8pm and the DJ comes on: "Alright every body it's
Tuesday night here at the Army & Navy!!!!"
1: Who
gives a shit that it's Tuesday night?
2: I know
where I am you fuck-wit I don't need you bellowing it at me
every 5 minutes.
There
was a bit of a hoo-ha when it became known that the "Army'"
was closing its doors and re-opening them again as part of
a Pub chain but not enough. The sad thing is it seemed to
be what the majority of people round here wanted, or at least
they didn't want it staying open bad enough to do anything
about it. We're not short of these spiritless, plastic and
chrome bars around here and, unfortunately, we're not short
of little plastic people whose pastel shirts match the furniture
either.
So now
people like me are squeezed into an ever-decreasing circle
of pubs and bars that aren't full of teenage wideboys flashing
gold rings and science fiction sized egos and displaying a
shockingly low tolerance for alcohol. Tonight I'll go out
and raise my glass to the memory of the "Army & Navy" and
shed a quiet tear at the loss of something special to our
town.
Well actually
I'll probably get drunk and talk rubbish with my mates but
that's a different story.
Ian King
Ian can
be found crying into his beer like the broken shell of a man
he is at: JJ_Oneway@hotmail.com
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