“Yeah we should get a website, that’ll be cool”, someone said after a number of beers in a pub somewhere.
Remarkably some 12 months later and despite looking like the literary version of the Death Star in The Return of the Jedi, this website is indeed “fully operational”.
“So what do we do with it?” said someone else after yet more beers in a pub somewhere else. “I think you’re supposed to put it up her arse”, said Phil misunderstanding the question, “oh, right, yeah the website, er well, you know we put stuff on it don’t we? You know, we can blog.”
“Oooh”, said the rest of us nodding with a drunken enthusiasm only possible when thinking that none of us would in fact actually have to do any work for this.
Which pretty much takes us to yesterday, a rainy Wednesday afternoon in north Leeds, with me looking at my desk and trying to justify stopping working for the day at 5.10pm in order to try and write the first entry for the blog.
I’ve literally got no fucking idea what to write. I’m quite a simple chap really, I like music, I like booze, women are cool, quite like fast cars too but I’ve never worked out this writing thing really. My ex, she could write. She still does in fact. I frequently read the articles she has published by various different magazines.
They all seem quite good really but the thing I take from them (and this isn’t a pop at her) and articles by other authors is that basically most pieces seem to be a long-winded ways of saying something really simple. It’s just the author (no, not my ex, stop fucking stirring) seems to want to put their own personal stamp on it as if the reader gives a fuck what their opinion is. That just seems a bit odd to me (and yes I acknowledge the hypocrisy of that last comment).
I mean it’s all well and good if you are world expert in something and someone has asked you to do a lecture, but who gives a fuck what your opinion is in relation to the prevalence of duffel bags on the Manchester High Street? No-one gives a fuck, and it’s not my fault that you can’t deal with your own utter irrelevance in the cosmos, so stop wasting my fucking time.
So … with all that in mind, I suppose I should kick this off then.
Red Light Revival started many years ago after Paul, the band’s original bass player, put together a band for a work party. Matt, Charlie and I were all in that band, we played two gigs in two years (both work parties) and it was a reet laff, as the affected Yorkshireman might say.
After the second gig, which I’m sure was December 2007 at the Metropole Hotel in Leeds (I put this information in now on the off chance that we get signed and become massive so that the people who organise the tours can have it as easy as possible. As an aside, I used to live in Liverpool when I was a student at halls on the bottom of Penny Lane. The Magical Mystery Tour stopped there frequently to allow tourists to take photographs. They were often disappointed however as the council had replaced the metal sign with a painted on version as the local student population were always robbing the metal ones. Their way of retaliation to this was to paint over the sign and rename the road “Penis Lane”. Fucking hilarious, especially if you’ve just paid a couple of grand to come from Japan to view some prick’s idea of graffiti. Anyway I digress.), Matt and I decided, once again over a number of beers, that we should start writing songs. We used to do this at the house he lived in in Chapel Allerton in north Leeds.
Matt lived with a two blokes who had clubbed together to buy the house as an investment (one was a prick, the other a nice guy) and one of them had a wee Yamaha keyboard so I’d sit there plonking away on that while Matt played guitar and we would write songs. The first two that we wrote we called “Sunshine” a dreadful fucking song so saccharine that it likely induces diabetes, and the second “Jo-Jo” which actually, looking back, was quite good. I understand that Matt has already reserved “Sunshine” to be on his solo album in the event that we make it big.
Once we had finished these “sessions” we would take the short walk to the centre of Chapel Allerton where we would drink heavily, Matt would tell anyone that would listen that we were “in a band” and I would simply make a dick out of myself. The song writing process is more or less exactly the same today, the venues have changed and I typically don’t really bother playing a great deal during the writing process but simply shout a lot instead.
So, what have we learnt? Basically, Matt and I write the songs and Red Light Revival has been around since December 2007.
And this is my point, I’ve explained that in two lines. Yet for some reason to “blog” about it requires a page of drivel beforehand.
I’m bored of this now, piss off and next time I’ll enlighten you as to more of the history (seriously does anyone really give a fuck?) of the band.
In the interim I’m sure Charlie of someone will write something for you.
Bollocks to this I’m off to the pub.