Fun House - The Club Congleton 20th August 2011
Well, slap my ass and call me ‘Charlie’! It seems that people do, actually, still read.
No, my little white punks on dope, I have not had an epiphany, nor have I experienced near death. Well, not lately, anyway. What I have done is attend the latest Fun House summer soirée.
Allow me to elucidate. You see, when I started writing reviews of the gigs that I had attended, at the end of the last Century, all I ever hoped for, was that, maybe, my writing could turn someone on to some great music or musician, which they might not have, otherwise, encountered. With my travel writing, I hoped that someone might read my crazy adventures and take the chance of visiting somewhere and enjoy it as much as I did. I have always tried to do it in an interesting, informative and fun way. Sometimes, I think I succeed. Other times, I wonder.
That is all very well, of God of Thunder, but what the Hell are you prattling on about? I hear you twitter. Patience, little pigs. All will become as clear as a transparent thing…
No, my little white punks on dope, I have not had an epiphany, nor have I experienced near death. Well, not lately, anyway. What I have done is attend the latest Fun House summer soirée.
Allow me to elucidate. You see, when I started writing reviews of the gigs that I had attended, at the end of the last Century, all I ever hoped for, was that, maybe, my writing could turn someone on to some great music or musician, which they might not have, otherwise, encountered. With my travel writing, I hoped that someone might read my crazy adventures and take the chance of visiting somewhere and enjoy it as much as I did. I have always tried to do it in an interesting, informative and fun way. Sometimes, I think I succeed. Other times, I wonder.
That is all very well, of God of Thunder, but what the Hell are you prattling on about? I hear you twitter. Patience, little pigs. All will become as clear as a transparent thing…
Just after I’d arrived at Fun House, on Saturday afternoon, a young chap came up to me and asked if I was the guy who had written ‘the review in The Chronicle’. I almost denied all knowledge of it. Eventually, I admitted that it was me what done it. As it turned out, he’d read my review of the last bash and that is what had made him decide to come and see, for himself, what all the fuss was about. Thanks, Richard. You made my year!
Gluttonous with self-approbation, as I then was, you’d think that my review of this Fun House extravaganza would be a cut-and-paste special of the last one, wouldn’t you? Nicht so schnell, mes enfants terribles. Marky don’t play dat. I like to do things the hard way…
Just because the last review was flattering and positive don’t mean diddley-squat to me. Oh yeah, I’m Bad. In fact, I’m Nationwide. Thing is, I’m a nice guy but, if it’s not good, I tend to say so. No matter who or, what, it am. Yeah, I had a great time at the last Fun House, but it was all new and shiny then. Now, the novelty has worn off, I’m a little jaded, a tad cranky, completely stone-cold sober. I am no novice this time. I know what to expect (sort of). I know a bit about the music (nothing whatsoever). I know some of the DJs (true). Moreover, everyone seems to know who I am and (as I would discover throughout the evening’s events) more than happy to pose for pictures (always fun). No, my little street arabs, this event had to be better than the last one. That’s the way it works. Continuous Improvement. Organisers, Sam Hurst and Tom Ellis may be nice guys, but I don’t impress easily and I can be quite grumpy.
Gluttonous with self-approbation, as I then was, you’d think that my review of this Fun House extravaganza would be a cut-and-paste special of the last one, wouldn’t you? Nicht so schnell, mes enfants terribles. Marky don’t play dat. I like to do things the hard way…
Just because the last review was flattering and positive don’t mean diddley-squat to me. Oh yeah, I’m Bad. In fact, I’m Nationwide. Thing is, I’m a nice guy but, if it’s not good, I tend to say so. No matter who or, what, it am. Yeah, I had a great time at the last Fun House, but it was all new and shiny then. Now, the novelty has worn off, I’m a little jaded, a tad cranky, completely stone-cold sober. I am no novice this time. I know what to expect (sort of). I know a bit about the music (nothing whatsoever). I know some of the DJs (true). Moreover, everyone seems to know who I am and (as I would discover throughout the evening’s events) more than happy to pose for pictures (always fun). No, my little street arabs, this event had to be better than the last one. That’s the way it works. Continuous Improvement. Organisers, Sam Hurst and Tom Ellis may be nice guys, but I don’t impress easily and I can be quite grumpy.
The last event, in early July, started earlier in the day, had better weather and, took place when a lot of the great unwashed were back in town, sponging off their poor, hard-working, downtrodden parents, as opposed to skiving in some university town, at the expense of tax-payers everywhere. This time, there was a certain dependency on the locals; would they turn out?
When I arrived there had been some technical challenges with the sound system and things were running a mite late. Not that anyone would have noticed; there was almost no one there. I wondered if this was going to be a very short review.
When I arrived there had been some technical challenges with the sound system and things were running a mite late. Not that anyone would have noticed; there was almost no one there. I wondered if this was going to be a very short review.
Gareth Ireland
With a Brother’s Lemon Cider in my hot, sticky paw, I took a seat and watched the first of the DJ’s doing his thing.
Gareth Ireland was completely new to me. He’s not someone I know and I have absolutely no idea what he played. It was pretty heavy-sounding stuff to my ears though and it moved along with quite a pace. But, kinda heavy. Does that make any sense? Probably not. The thing I really like about this set was the Dj’s intensity. Even though he was, essentially, playing his set to one oldish bloke, who was busy reading Arnold Bennet’s The Card on his MePhone, he still delivered a high-intensity performance. You gotta respect that. Nice one!
Gareth Ireland was completely new to me. He’s not someone I know and I have absolutely no idea what he played. It was pretty heavy-sounding stuff to my ears though and it moved along with quite a pace. But, kinda heavy. Does that make any sense? Probably not. The thing I really like about this set was the Dj’s intensity. Even though he was, essentially, playing his set to one oldish bloke, who was busy reading Arnold Bennet’s The Card on his MePhone, he still delivered a high-intensity performance. You gotta respect that. Nice one!
It would have been nice if more people had been there but it was still very early in the day. From having two daughters I know that the young uns don’t even consider going out until about 11 o’ clock, so there was time.
Next up on the decks (see how I’m hip with the lingo now?) was my tie-dye t-shirt, twin brother, Splinter. Yep, you probably guessed, I can’t say what he played, but I know I enjoy watching him. He’s not as intense as the others. He’s relaxed, irreverent, a bit of a maverick, breaking the rules and being a drum ‘n’ bass bad boy. He likes to wing it and fly by the seat of his pants or, at least, give that ipression. He would have made a great Pirate Radio DJ, back in the day. Anyway, I can’t bad-mouth anyone who wears a tie-dye t-shirt.
Next up on the decks (see how I’m hip with the lingo now?) was my tie-dye t-shirt, twin brother, Splinter. Yep, you probably guessed, I can’t say what he played, but I know I enjoy watching him. He’s not as intense as the others. He’s relaxed, irreverent, a bit of a maverick, breaking the rules and being a drum ‘n’ bass bad boy. He likes to wing it and fly by the seat of his pants or, at least, give that ipression. He would have made a great Pirate Radio DJ, back in the day. Anyway, I can’t bad-mouth anyone who wears a tie-dye t-shirt.
Tom Ellis (taking photo)
I must confess that I almost completely missed out on a couple of the DJ’s sets. as I was otherwise occupied with my camera, trying to set it up for later (Cheers Tom!) and, well, I was also having fun.
That’s the thing, you get caught up in the beat and have fun.
There, I said it! I’ll self-flagellate later.
That’s the thing, you get caught up in the beat and have fun.
There, I said it! I’ll self-flagellate later.
Dave Grigger
Much to everyone’s relief, around 9 o’ clock, the place started to get busy. If you play it, they will come, seemed to be the rule of thumb. Dave Grigger certainly did that. One thing I realised about this young fella is that he really loves doing this. Talking to him when he is not DJing, you encounter a much quieter, almost-introvert, character. Stick him on the stage and loosen the leash and he’s the offspring of the Duracell Bunny and the Tasmanian Devil. He tears the place up with lots of loud, pumping sounds, chanting, shouting, stomping and jumping around. Personally, I find it all a little energetic to participate in, but I get the 50% exercise from watching others sweat. It all counts.
By the next changeover, the room was swinging. The hep cats had arrived in significant numbers and Dave Grigger had everyone bopping along like it was a High School Sock Hop.
By the next changeover, the room was swinging. The hep cats had arrived in significant numbers and Dave Grigger had everyone bopping along like it was a High School Sock Hop.
Sam Hurst
At the midnight hour, Sam Hurst took over. He was one DJ I still hadn’t yet seen that I really wanted to. Now, he talks a good game but could he deliver the goods and impress me? Not easy. I mean, he’d only bought me one drink, it was midnight and way past my bedtime…
I hate giving out praise. I really do. I’d rather gnaw off my own foot than admit that someone done good. I have been asked, on occasion, why, if I hate effusive ululations so much, why I don’t appear to have written any bad reviews out of the few hundred on my website,. Well, hang on there, my scurrilous, little vagabonds, two things you need to know:
Oh bugger! I even went to the trouble of bullet points to avoid this moment. Yeah, Sam was pretty good. His style is fast, furious, and full of energy. He could work half as hard and people would still have fun. That’s not Sam’s way and I can resonate with that notion. He puts in an immense amount of work into selecting tracks, mixing, cueing, and doing whatever it is he does amidst all those flashing lights and knob-twiddlery. In a way, if Splinter is relaxed and freewheelin’, Sam is the anti-Splinter, which would, I suppose make him ‘DJ Shredder’. Still, as complex as Sam’s sounds are, you gotta love his work ethic, his enthusiasm, his energy, and his intensity. That and the fact that he plays some damn crackin’ tunes!
I hate giving out praise. I really do. I’d rather gnaw off my own foot than admit that someone done good. I have been asked, on occasion, why, if I hate effusive ululations so much, why I don’t appear to have written any bad reviews out of the few hundred on my website,. Well, hang on there, my scurrilous, little vagabonds, two things you need to know:
- One, they are there, believe me.
- B, I don’t, generally, go and see live performances by crap acts, no matter the genre.
- 3. See above.
Oh bugger! I even went to the trouble of bullet points to avoid this moment. Yeah, Sam was pretty good. His style is fast, furious, and full of energy. He could work half as hard and people would still have fun. That’s not Sam’s way and I can resonate with that notion. He puts in an immense amount of work into selecting tracks, mixing, cueing, and doing whatever it is he does amidst all those flashing lights and knob-twiddlery. In a way, if Splinter is relaxed and freewheelin’, Sam is the anti-Splinter, which would, I suppose make him ‘DJ Shredder’. Still, as complex as Sam’s sounds are, you gotta love his work ethic, his enthusiasm, his energy, and his intensity. That and the fact that he plays some damn crackin’ tunes!
Mr. Josh Lyons
All of the Fun House DJs are different. Some play music that I like, others play stuff that means nothing to me. I still don’t understand what I’m listening to. Mind you, two months ago, I wouldn’t have even been able to tell the difference twixt Drum ‘n’ Bass and Dubstep (still can’t, but you get my drift). It’s growing on me and, at least, I can tell that each DJ plays different things.
If I have to give an award to the DJ that I, personally, enjoyed the most, on that day, it would be to Mr. Josh Lyons. I can’t tell you why I choose Josh, because I don’t really know, myself. I couldn’t say if he’s technically any better than Sam, or any of the others. I don’t know what style of music he plays and I certainly can’t give it a name. He doesn’t chat like Splinter and he doesn’t jump around like Dave Grigger. For some reason though, I just enjoy what he plays and how he puts it together. There was a moment – it was just for a nano-second, my grubby, little urchins, but it was there – when I almost danced. Fortunately, I caught myself in time and the feeling passed but, still, it was a close call. Of course, now I will have to hunt Josh down and kill him, as I have a reputation to think of and I can’t have the haunting spectre of geriatric disco-dancing hanging around my neck, like Marley’s chains (that’s Jacob, not Bob).
If I have to give an award to the DJ that I, personally, enjoyed the most, on that day, it would be to Mr. Josh Lyons. I can’t tell you why I choose Josh, because I don’t really know, myself. I couldn’t say if he’s technically any better than Sam, or any of the others. I don’t know what style of music he plays and I certainly can’t give it a name. He doesn’t chat like Splinter and he doesn’t jump around like Dave Grigger. For some reason though, I just enjoy what he plays and how he puts it together. There was a moment – it was just for a nano-second, my grubby, little urchins, but it was there – when I almost danced. Fortunately, I caught myself in time and the feeling passed but, still, it was a close call. Of course, now I will have to hunt Josh down and kill him, as I have a reputation to think of and I can’t have the haunting spectre of geriatric disco-dancing hanging around my neck, like Marley’s chains (that’s Jacob, not Bob).
Fun House: the clue is in the name...
So, once again, I found myself enjoying something I don’t understand and can’t explain. What’s more, this time, I wasn’t as fixated on my photos or, the what, and how the DJs did what they do. I just went with it and let it happen. To my abject horror, in some ways, I do believe I enjoyed this event more than the previous one. I think it comes down to some quite simple factors. For a start, rather than just hearing the music, I have started to listen to it and, instead of deconstructing it, I accept it for what it is. Fun! It really is quite liberating.
Of course, it is still a mystery to me but I’m open to new things and I am quite girlishly excited about the next event. Sam Hurst and Tom Ellis work so hard to make these events happen it would be rude not to go along. Well done lads.
Don’t get too worked up about seeing me on the dance floor though. It will be a cold day in Trenton NJ before I strut my funky stuff in public!
Catch you on the flipside,
Mark L. Potts
The God of Thunder
22nd August 2011
Of course, it is still a mystery to me but I’m open to new things and I am quite girlishly excited about the next event. Sam Hurst and Tom Ellis work so hard to make these events happen it would be rude not to go along. Well done lads.
Don’t get too worked up about seeing me on the dance floor though. It will be a cold day in Trenton NJ before I strut my funky stuff in public!
Catch you on the flipside,
Mark L. Potts
The God of Thunder
22nd August 2011
