The Accidental Roadie

Off to Clerkenwell last night, for a Medecins Sans Frontieres benefit featuring the mighty Robyn Hitchcock and chums. They were playing Sergeant Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band in order, in it’s entirety. A great idea, and probably the first time this studio-bound piece had been attempted live.

They absolutely nailed it, down to the backward masking at the end. Sgt. Pepper’s not my favourite Beatles album, but this really kicked live. It was a joy from start to finish, impeccably played and enlivened by Robyn’s trademark surrealistic song intros. Props to Morris Windsor too, whose drums and vocals were the backbone of the whole endeavour.

It was made even better by the sheer intimacy of the venue in which the gig was held. The Three Kings is a tiny, boho place the colour of beer and fag smoke (interestingly, they’d enabled the smoking ban a day early, which suited me perfectly.) dominated by a stuffed rhino head on the back wall. It was filled to the rafters by the time Robyn hit the stage. And by stage I mean the bit of floor by the fireplace. There was no room for anything more fancy. My travelling companions for the evening, Mr and Mrs Jones, had made the point that it was worth getting there early to snag a decent view. It couldn’t really have been bettered, as I virtually had my head in the PA, and was close enough to be able to hand Robyn back his guitar lead after he knocked out of his Telecaster during “Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds.” Mr Jones is a seething ball of jealousy now. He’s the real Robyn fan. I only really pitched up on the offchance that Peter Buck might show (he didn’t.)

Mark Lamarr officiated over an auction of memorabilia, which at one point turned into a pitched battle between myself and Mrs Jones over a signed copy of Underwater Moonlight. She won, and was planning on giving it to Mr Jones as a birthday pressie. I also opened the bidding on a traffic cone signed by Robyn and R.E.M., that eventually went for £130. I know it’s for charity and all, but WTF.

So, boozed up and with ringing ears, we stepped out into the rain, and headed for home. A great gig, supporting a really good cause. I’m still a bit deaf. And I can’t get this darned grin off my face.

Abbey Road next year please, Robyn!