A Night at the Flamingo: The Alan Price Set, feat. Chris Farlowe, Maggie Bell, Zoot Money, and Bobby Tench - Blackpool 7th November 2009
Setlist: Set 1: I’m Crying (Alan Price) / Black Magic Woman (Bobby Tench) / I Feel Good (Bobby Tench) / Poppa’s Got A Brand New Bag (Zoot Money) / Out of Sight (Zoot Money) In the Midnight Hour (Chris Farlowe) / Stormy Monday Blues (Chris Farlowe) / Wishing Well (Maggie Bell) / Try A Little Tenderness (Maggie Bell) / Hi Lily Hi Lily Hi Lo (Alan Price) / I Put A Spell On You (Alan Price) / Simon Smith and His Amazing Dancing Bear (Alan Price) / Private Number (Chris Farlowe & Maggie Bell) Set 2: Changes (Alan Price) / No, Don’t Stop the Carnival (Alan Price) / Jarrow Song (Alan Price) / Big Time Operator (Zoot Money) / Stop the Wedding (Zoot Money) / Boom Boom (Bobby Tench) / Stand By Me (Bobby Tench / Handbags and Gladrags (Chris Farlowe) / Out of Time (Chris Farlowe) / I Believe I’m In Love With You (Maggie Bell) / House of the Rising Sun (Alan Price) / We Gotta Get Out Of This Place // Tell Me What I Say
I’m not exactly sure of what I was expecting, to be honest. Of all the people who would be on stage that evening, I knew of them all, of course, but I’d only ever seen Chris Farlowe live before, and I knew he’d deliver the goods, as he always does. What we did get was much more than we had hoped for. I’ll get to that in a minute.
First, a little pre-rant rant. No surprises, I like to take a camera along to a gig and take some pics. They are for my own use, to remember the night and to put on my cyberspace. I make no money from them, and have no intention of doing so. That was never why I started doing it. Even if I did, I bought a ticket, the camera is mine, and I take the photos. Whose copyright is being infringed? No one’s. I object to the fascists who tell me I can’t photograph what I want to. I do not use flash and I would never use a picture that showed the artist in a bad light. The artist is welcome to a copy of any of my photographs of them free of charge, to use as they wish. Some of my photographs are as good as any you will see in a magazine. In fact, I have supplied my photos to quite a few artists websites, and in CD artwork, including Leslie West, Pat Travers, Rick Derringer, Budgie, Demon, Diamond Head, Glenn Hughes, Joe Lynn Turner, Wishbone Ash, Helloween, Megadeth, Metallica, and Iron Maiden - and those are just off the top of my head. If the artist asks me not to take photographs, fair enough. It has never happened in ten years. The fascists are always from the venue. WTF do they care? What’s it got do with them anyway? Normally, I would argue the toss and get into a fight with them but, as I mentioned earlier, I was on my best behaviour, and I almost made it… almost. More of that later.
The show opened with Alan Price and his band taking to the stage, Bobby Tench on guitar, and Zoot Money on keyboards. Alan kicked things off with I’m Crying, followed by Bobby Tench’s fluid style of guitar playing showcased on Black Magic Woman and I Feel Good. Then, it was Zoot Money’s turn to feel better than James Brown with a jaunty rendition of Poppa’s Got a Brand New Bag and Out of Sight. Chris Farlowe came on to huge cheers and sang one of his hits, a version of the Wicked Pickett’s In the Midnight Hour, and one of my personal favourites of Chris’s, Stormy Monday Blues. Next up was the fantastic Maggie Bell who, at 64, showed that age is no barrier to being able to belt out the songs, opening her first half set with a powerful version of the Free song, Wishing Well, followed by a soulful Try A Little Tenderness. Alan Price brought the first half to a close with Hi Lily Hi Lily Hi Lo, I Put a Spell on You, and Simon Smith and His Amazing Dancing Bear, before bringing Chris Farlowe & Maggie Bell back to the stage for a duet on Private Number.
During the intermission, we retired to the bar for a restorative libation, bumping into Zoot Money, who had got lost somewhere in the maze of backstage passages.
The second set started with Changes, one of Alan Price’s best songs from the O Lucky Man soundtrack, followed by No, Don’t Stop the Carnival, and Jarrow Song. Zoot played his hit song Big Time Operator, and then Stop the Wedding, apparently a big number at the Flamingo Club, back in the day. Bobby Tench further impressed with a stonking rendition of John Lee Hooker’s Boom Boom, and Ben E. King’s Stand by Me. Chris returned to perform Handbags and Gladrags, which was written for him some 45 years ago by Mike d’Abo, and his signature tune Out of Time, which I never get tired of seeing him sing. Maggie came back on sing an impressive version of a Bonnie Raitt song, I Believe I’m In Love With You.
We knew it would come at some point and Alan performed a staggering rendition of House of the Rising Sun (as had Eric Burdon some months earlier). The show closed with another Animals classic, We Gotta Get Out Of This Place, which had everyone back on stage. After much cheering and clapping, a very raucous Tell Me What I Say brought a most enjoyable evening to an end.
Whatever I had expected, I got much more. Most surprising (to me) was the banter from Alan Price, whose very dry delivery and darkly comic sense of humour was interspersed between songs. He was bloody funny, especially the tale about Randy Newman (who wrote SSAHADB), his father, and an iron lung. I suppose, you had to be there! I enjoyed the stories and tall tales immensely and felt they really injected an element of fun into the evening. Cracking stuff Gromit!
You remember I had said that I was determined to be on my best behaviour? Well, I cracked as we got up to leave. Before the concert started a disembodied voice boomed from the PA that it was an infringement of the artist’s copyright to take photos and anyone doing so would be taken out back and horsewhipped. I was prepared to take on the Stasi, especially as they were all girls, but I didn’t want to cause any grief on this occasion, so I snapped maybe half a dozen pics all night, no flash. Quite a change from the 100+ I would normally take. Each time I raised my camera, some bloke behind tutted and grunted. I ignored him. Then, I snapped a very nice pic of Bobby Tench and sunbeam tapped me on the shoulder and had the audacity to tell me not to take photos. OK. I let it go… until the end of the show. As we got up, I turned around and the following dialogue took place:
Me: What’s your fucking problem?
Tossface: You’re not allowed to take pictures. They said so.
Me: So fucking what?
Tossface: They said it was an infringement of copyright.
Me: First of all, you should fucking watch who you’re tapping on the shoulder next time, cos it might be someone who will kick the living shit out of you. Secondly, my camera, my memory card, I took the photo. My fucking copyright!
Then, I gave him the old Eric Morecambe cheek slap before picking up my coat and walking off. If you ask me, I was very well-behaved. I could have been so much nastier had I been alone and not feeling ill.
A most enjoyable night was had by all.
Marky has left the building!
Mark L. Potts
The God of Thunder
10th November 2009
First, a little pre-rant rant. No surprises, I like to take a camera along to a gig and take some pics. They are for my own use, to remember the night and to put on my cyberspace. I make no money from them, and have no intention of doing so. That was never why I started doing it. Even if I did, I bought a ticket, the camera is mine, and I take the photos. Whose copyright is being infringed? No one’s. I object to the fascists who tell me I can’t photograph what I want to. I do not use flash and I would never use a picture that showed the artist in a bad light. The artist is welcome to a copy of any of my photographs of them free of charge, to use as they wish. Some of my photographs are as good as any you will see in a magazine. In fact, I have supplied my photos to quite a few artists websites, and in CD artwork, including Leslie West, Pat Travers, Rick Derringer, Budgie, Demon, Diamond Head, Glenn Hughes, Joe Lynn Turner, Wishbone Ash, Helloween, Megadeth, Metallica, and Iron Maiden - and those are just off the top of my head. If the artist asks me not to take photographs, fair enough. It has never happened in ten years. The fascists are always from the venue. WTF do they care? What’s it got do with them anyway? Normally, I would argue the toss and get into a fight with them but, as I mentioned earlier, I was on my best behaviour, and I almost made it… almost. More of that later.
The show opened with Alan Price and his band taking to the stage, Bobby Tench on guitar, and Zoot Money on keyboards. Alan kicked things off with I’m Crying, followed by Bobby Tench’s fluid style of guitar playing showcased on Black Magic Woman and I Feel Good. Then, it was Zoot Money’s turn to feel better than James Brown with a jaunty rendition of Poppa’s Got a Brand New Bag and Out of Sight. Chris Farlowe came on to huge cheers and sang one of his hits, a version of the Wicked Pickett’s In the Midnight Hour, and one of my personal favourites of Chris’s, Stormy Monday Blues. Next up was the fantastic Maggie Bell who, at 64, showed that age is no barrier to being able to belt out the songs, opening her first half set with a powerful version of the Free song, Wishing Well, followed by a soulful Try A Little Tenderness. Alan Price brought the first half to a close with Hi Lily Hi Lily Hi Lo, I Put a Spell on You, and Simon Smith and His Amazing Dancing Bear, before bringing Chris Farlowe & Maggie Bell back to the stage for a duet on Private Number.
During the intermission, we retired to the bar for a restorative libation, bumping into Zoot Money, who had got lost somewhere in the maze of backstage passages.
The second set started with Changes, one of Alan Price’s best songs from the O Lucky Man soundtrack, followed by No, Don’t Stop the Carnival, and Jarrow Song. Zoot played his hit song Big Time Operator, and then Stop the Wedding, apparently a big number at the Flamingo Club, back in the day. Bobby Tench further impressed with a stonking rendition of John Lee Hooker’s Boom Boom, and Ben E. King’s Stand by Me. Chris returned to perform Handbags and Gladrags, which was written for him some 45 years ago by Mike d’Abo, and his signature tune Out of Time, which I never get tired of seeing him sing. Maggie came back on sing an impressive version of a Bonnie Raitt song, I Believe I’m In Love With You.
We knew it would come at some point and Alan performed a staggering rendition of House of the Rising Sun (as had Eric Burdon some months earlier). The show closed with another Animals classic, We Gotta Get Out Of This Place, which had everyone back on stage. After much cheering and clapping, a very raucous Tell Me What I Say brought a most enjoyable evening to an end.
Whatever I had expected, I got much more. Most surprising (to me) was the banter from Alan Price, whose very dry delivery and darkly comic sense of humour was interspersed between songs. He was bloody funny, especially the tale about Randy Newman (who wrote SSAHADB), his father, and an iron lung. I suppose, you had to be there! I enjoyed the stories and tall tales immensely and felt they really injected an element of fun into the evening. Cracking stuff Gromit!
You remember I had said that I was determined to be on my best behaviour? Well, I cracked as we got up to leave. Before the concert started a disembodied voice boomed from the PA that it was an infringement of the artist’s copyright to take photos and anyone doing so would be taken out back and horsewhipped. I was prepared to take on the Stasi, especially as they were all girls, but I didn’t want to cause any grief on this occasion, so I snapped maybe half a dozen pics all night, no flash. Quite a change from the 100+ I would normally take. Each time I raised my camera, some bloke behind tutted and grunted. I ignored him. Then, I snapped a very nice pic of Bobby Tench and sunbeam tapped me on the shoulder and had the audacity to tell me not to take photos. OK. I let it go… until the end of the show. As we got up, I turned around and the following dialogue took place:
Me: What’s your fucking problem?
Tossface: You’re not allowed to take pictures. They said so.
Me: So fucking what?
Tossface: They said it was an infringement of copyright.
Me: First of all, you should fucking watch who you’re tapping on the shoulder next time, cos it might be someone who will kick the living shit out of you. Secondly, my camera, my memory card, I took the photo. My fucking copyright!
Then, I gave him the old Eric Morecambe cheek slap before picking up my coat and walking off. If you ask me, I was very well-behaved. I could have been so much nastier had I been alone and not feeling ill.
A most enjoyable night was had by all.
Marky has left the building!
Mark L. Potts
The God of Thunder
10th November 2009
