100TWC - Day 99: Friendship

This post has a lot of tags. It started off with more but I blew Blogger's limit. I didn't even know there was a limit! See, friendship touches so many areas of my life that Blogger can't cope. I'm half expecting it to seize up in the middle of this post. Let's see how we get on...

With the last post of my 100-day (aka 100-theme) writing challenge in sight, friendship has been much on my mind. I've had some really nice comments and feedback on here, but what's been even better, and more surprising, is the feedback I've had in real life. Whenever I've met up with friends at least one of them has commented on each occasion how much they've been enjoying the writing. I've been enjoying it too, of course, in fact that's one of the things I'll be including in the "lessons learned" follow-up post I'll be writing over the weekend. But it's one thing to gain enjoyment from something yourself, and totally another thing to find out that you've been giving enjoyment to others. Writing can be a solitary experience (all writers say this, at least those who speak/write/email to me) with -- often -- not much in the way of validation or appreciation, so it's really cool to hear the opinions of readers, which posts they liked best and why, etc.

I'd also be really interested to hear which ones folk thought didn't work out so well. To see how this matches my own feelings, for one thing, but also because it's all part of the learning experience. Just doing this stuff has helped me improve enormously, but really good feedback that mentions the bad as well as the good, is also a huge help.

I appear to have drifted off topic somewhat, so to drag it back to friendship: I've been lucky. When I talk about the times we have with mates -- the trips to the Lakes, weekends away, meals out (and in) -- the single most common response is how unusual it is for a bunch of guys to have kept a communal friendship going for so long. I'm not sure how rare it is in the great scheme of things, but those who comment on it seem to think it's pretty rare. Much more common for women to have a "girly group of friends"; less so for guys to have a "blokey group", apparently.

I've known for many years that social groups depend on key individuals to hold them together. I had an old colleagues network at one time -- around two dozen people who all used to work together in the same part of the organisation until one dark day a reorganisation came along and scattered us all across the company. Some left for other jobs, some took the opportunity for early retirement, most split up into three or four units, separated by geography, department and skill set. For several years after the split, we would get together two or three times a year (Christmas, obviously, and then one or two other meals or social events like bowling, walking, pub crawls). These were all marvellous events, well attended and very popular, but they all had a single individual -- the same guy in every case -- as the instigator. And then one day he stopped doing it. And none of us have ever met up again since that day.

The small group of friends I always refer to as my "Nottingham" mates (even though only two of them live there now) have strength in depth when it comes to organising get-togethers. It's not driven by just one of us. Once a few weeks, or a months, have gone by since our last meet, one or other of us will get in touch to set something else up. Often we don't need to do this, as we arrange it in advance at the previous one. It's a source of infinite variety, pleasure, amusement and fun to Nikki and I to be able to be part of this, as I'm sure anyone who is lucky enough to have their own strong ties of friendship will understand. Friends, they say, are the family you choose, and I would tag that with "lines I wish I'd written" if there was any space left in the tag list :0)

As I've discovered (and blogged about before), friends come at you from all parts of life, and another group that I've been blessed to reconnect with -- a few years back now -- has been the curry crew. We may only meet once a month, but I find myself looking forward to those evenings immensely. The conversation always flows, it's always stimulating and amusing, and the food is only the icing on the cake (if curry can be said to be any kind of icing).

I have a small number of friends that fall into another different category. All of the aforementioned might be classed as "regular" friends, and if such a term fits then this small number I'm talking about now might correspondingly be referred to as "irregular" friends. People who, over the years, have meandered in and out of my life seemingly at random, but who whenever we meet will pick up the threads of friendship (and even conversation!) and knit them back into something recognisable within a few hours. I met one such person outside a hotel once, a few years back. Having not seen him for more than five years, suddenly there he was, leaving a hotel at which I had arrived to meet someone else. We only had chance for twenty minutes frantic catching up and exchanging of current contact details, but it rekindled some long-buried memories and the spark of yet another friendship stretching back to the mid 1970s. We originally met at university and the names of other uni friends crop up regularly in the strangest places. Naturally the Internet is the perfect medium for this and over the years I've had the occasional email from old friends who've read this blog, or seen my profile on LinkedIn, or Friends Reunited, or found my website through Google.

There is a downside to this though. The reality of how easy it is to lose touch with people was brought home to me when I attended a school reunion about 15 years ago. It was such a strange experience I vowed never to attend one again (although I was tempted a couple of years back when they held a 25th -- or was it 30th? -- reunion). Not only the experience -- spending 3 or 4 hours in a function room with 50 people who at one time I saw on a daily basis but who, with one exception, I hadn't seen for 15 years -- but the aftermath. The impact of the realisation that I had completely lost touch with all of them, even those I'd thought of as close friends, really hit me surprisingly hard. I guess it just shows that friends are more than simply people you spend time with. Just as it's easy to be lonely in a crowded room, rubbing shoulders with a bunch of people every day for six years doesn't necessarily make them your friends. It knocked me for six a bit, did that.

The Musical Box 2008 - the Trick of the Tail tour - Manchester

The tickets for last night's gig at the Manchester Apollo have been sitting here on my desk under the monitor since early March, heightening the anticipation of the evening. Phil & Vicky came over from Chesterfield, and we'd secured tickets for my daughters too, so we were an excited party of seven in total as we took our seats on row J at around 7.30pm.

I'd been disappointed initially, when I saw the set list, that the band were not playing the whole album, but then I remembered Musical Box's trademark adherence to the absolute letter of the original tour experience, from staging, through slides and effects, music, instruments and, of course, content. This being Genesis' first album of the post-Gabriel era, the tour necessarily relied on a lot of their Gabriel back-catalogue, and so only five of the tracks from Trick of the Tail made an appearance.

The set was cleverly bracketed with the opening and closing tracks from the album - Dance on a Volcano for starters and Los Endos (which was to become Genesis' traditional closing number) to finish, and in between we were treated to a selection of the most mouth-watering goodies from the early 70s.

Following Dance on a Volcano, the band performed a medley from Lamb comprising the title track, Fly on a Windshield and (my personal favourite) Carpet Crawlers. And then, with Denis Gagne doing a passable impersonation of Phil Collins' stage antics, it was time for the Cinema Show.

I'm not sure if it was a problem with where we were sitting, or the staging, or the mix, but this time round (the third time we've seen Musical Box) I found the sound very thin, and many of the vocals overtaken by the instruments. Maybe thirty years of listening to the studio versions has coloured my judgement, but I don't remember this being an issue with earlier gigs.

Wasn't a problem for the next number though - back to Trick for Robbery, Assault and Battery, accompanied by the original film footage on the backdrop, and Denis dressed in the traditional flat cap and overcoat. I switched off after that while they did White Mountain from Trespass. Of all the Gabriel-era albums, Trespass is my least favourite and the least-played by a very long way (I've probably only listened to it 2 or 3 times in total), but it wasn't long before we were treated to a note-perfect rendition of Firth of Fifth, followed in quick succession by two more Trick of the Tail gems: Entangled, and Squonk.

By now we were all well warmed up and ready for the highlight of the evening: the whole of Supper's Ready. Before we came out tonight, I'd passed comment that this would probably be the last time we'd fork out to see Musical Box. We were about six bars into Supper's Ready when I decided that no, if and when they come to Manchester again, we'll be here again. It's such a rare treat to hear Supper's Ready live from beginning to end that I don't want to pass up any chance.

There was just time for the "first ever Genesis single" (as it is often badged in the press) I Know What I Like (in Your Wardrobe) before they hit the roof with the closing number: the aforementioned Los Endos.

We had been expecting both It and Watcher of the Skies as an encore, but they must have been running late, or made a late change to the running order, because Watcher was dropped.

I had been extremely impressed with Denis's drumming during the evening, until Annie revealed that the forum-chatter had given the game away. It's only Phil Collins who can sing and drum, and when Denis walked around the flats in the direction of the drum kit, he never reappeared. A "real" drummer came back on, dressed in identical clothing and with an identical wig and beard a la Collins, and changed back into Denis on the return journey. It was very cleverly done and I didn't have a clue!

All in all a great gig, hugely enjoyed by us all. The chances of a full Genesis line-up touring again any time may be fading into the distance, but while we have Musical Box it (almost) doesn't matter.

Genesis 2007 - the Turn It On Again tour - Manchester

The day before my 50th birthday last year was a red-letter day. After all the rumours of a reunion and a tour, tickets for the UK legs of the first Genesis live concert in 15 years went on sale and although they sold out in half an hour, I was successful in my purchase, securing four tickets in the North Stand at Old Trafford.

Tonight, eight months later, four of us walked in through door N43 - only the second time I have entered Old Trafford football ground in my life, and the first time in the "new" stadium - and up through entrance N1405 - to be greeted by this sight:


Well, not quite *that* sight, as this photo was taken by my mate Phil who was also at the concert but sat at the back, on the third tier. We were over there on the right, about two-thirds of the way back. On this very special night I didn't want to be annoyed at anything or let the slightest niggle spoil the atmosphere, but it was hard not to be irked by the massive number of cameras present. The tickets and concert promos had made it quite clear that digital recording devices of any kind were forbidden, and we'd played with a straight bat and left our cameras at home. From what we saw way more than half the audience had simply ignored this message and were happily snapping away the whole night. We had to make do with phone pictures, of which Phil's are easily the best quality.

The first thing that struck me was how small the stadium is. Admittedly it was foreshortened by having the stage and all the lighting gubbins at the Stretford End where all the seats were closed, but even so it was a lot smaller than I remembered from the one time I saw a match there, sometime in 1977.

To say I was excited would be the mother of all understatements. Genesis are my favourite band of all time and I've been a fan since around 1972. I'd seen them live twice before, but the last time was well over thirty years ago.

That the tour had proved popular was obvious from the speed of the sellout. The band had allegedly settled on only two UK dates because they were worried about the level of interest and didn't think tickets would sell. However an early press conference tells a different story. Since most of them are now well into their sixth decade, they basically wanted to take it easy and make the limited number of appearances (20 quoted in that interview; 22 on the concert t-shirt) fun for them as well as the fans. A 20-venue American tour will follow later.

We were in our seats easily an hour before the start time (billed as 7.45pm), which gave us plenty of time to take in the stage and watch the follow-spot operators climbing into their gantries just in front of us and to the left. The stage looked incredible. Two oval screens - later to prove to be high-definition screens which looked to be about 20 feet high - bracketed the main stage and were joined by a grey metallic wave. This appeared to be studded with light bulbs but once the show got underway it was obvious that it too was a massive versatile computerised graphics unit which was used throughout the concert to display animations, project band members or act as an adjunct to the amazing array of lights that hung above the stage and around the auditorium.

About twenty minutes before start time the black drapes were removed from the main stage to reveal an intricate series of lights suspended from lightweight gantries, and the famous two drum kits - one for Phil Collins and one for Genesis' tour drummer of 30 years standing, the amazing Chester Thompson. These two kits we knew would be the scene for the well-practiced Drum Duet later in the evening.

Shortly after that we heard a cheer from the crowd as the band left their dressing room and then the introductory music swelled through the stadium, the rhythmic drumbeat shaking my spine as it pumped from the massive speaker arrays all over the stadium. With a whoop and a cheer from the crowd near the stage which rippled back through the audience, changing to a polite round of applause as it went, the band took the stage and launched into the first number: a medley of Behind the Lines; Duke's End; and Turn It On Again.

It was a slow start and as the HD screens flicked through close-ups of each of the band members I couldn't help feeling they looked as if they didn't want to be there. Like a bunch of grumpy old men forced into a day out with irritating younger family members. The soundstage was powerful but this early performance a little lacklustre.

But I needn't have worried. As soon as they hit the next number - No Son of Mine - the old energy returned and the concert started to take off. With only the shortest of short pauses the next number followed right along - Land of Confusion - another rocky one and then we were into the second medley of the night: In The Cage; The Cinema Show; Duke’s Travels; Afterglow which cleverly took the atmosphere from fast hard rock to slow love ballad.

By the time the strains of Afterglow died away, I was a wreck. These lyrics were always beautiful and meaningful, as many of Genesis' songs are. That's one of the things that lifts them above being "just another rock band." But the older I get the more meaningful they
become, and the stronger the effect they have on me.
So as the tears fell, I wiped them away. It was, after all, still light in the stadium.


But now, now I've lost
everything,
I give to you my soul.
The meaning of all that I believed before
Escapes me in this world of none, no thing, no one.
And I would search everywhere
Just to hear your call,
And walk upon stranger roads than this one
In a world I used to know before.

I can't even write them out without feeling the pricking behind my eyes.

There was no respite from the emotional charge as the band followed up this medley with Hold On My Heart but then came the part of the concert where, had I needed to take a comfort break, or if I was one of those really strange people who seem incapable of sitting through a concert without sucking on a bottle of beer or fetching themselves a cup of tea, I would have gone and had/fetched one. For this was Home By The Sea / Second Home By The Sea from the self-titled 15th album, released in 1983. And now it's confession time, because despite being a life-long fan of Genesis music we had a falling-out around the time of Duke/Abacab (I thought they were pretty crap at the time, and still don't like Abacab much) and then when they released another live album (I've always hated live albums for some reason) I stopped buying their music altogether, so I'm almost totally unfamiliar with tracks recorded in the first half of the eighties.

Things picked up again though with the sing-a-long single Follow You Follow Me, but surprisingly we hit the doldrums again with a VERY disappointing Firth of Fifth. When we noticed this was in the set list we jumped about like excited kids. As it turned out we were not to be treated to the whole number but to a bastardised version consisting mostly of the guitar solo. Now don't get me wrong Daryl Stuermer is an excellent guitarist. On a good day he's almost as good as Steve Hackett and that is praise indeed. But this was a Genesis concert and you can't get away with playing half a song. Especially not when the song you choose to butcher is Firth of Fifth.

Ah well, no time to dwell on it as the strains of the Firth guitar solo drifted into Genesis' first single release - I Know What I Like - closely followed by the weird and wonderful Mama.

And then...and then it was time for some more magic. I said I hadn't seen them live for thirty years and that was the Trick of the Tail tour. And here they were playing Ripples.
One of the most beautiful songs on an album composed entirely of excellent songs, this time round Ripples was accompanied by an eerie watery-themed backdrop that perfectly captured the mood of the song and transported me back to the summer of 1976 as I sang along to the well-remembered lyric..."it's the last time you'll look like today..." Passing swiftly over Throwing It All Away and Domino (both from the Invisible Touch album which marked the end of my falling-out period with them) we reached longingly for what we expected to be the penultimate high-point of the evening: the Drum Duet.

Way back when, this was a drum DUEL, with Phil Collins and Chester Thompson taking it in turns to try and outdo one another with their percussive prowess. Nowadays they're a little (a lot!) more mature and the drumming is complementary but no less complex. Starting on a pair of leather stooltops and progressing after a few minutes to their respective kits, these two masters regaled us with a combination drum solo the like of which I haven't seen since Greenslade's performance at the Nottingham Albert Hall.

Fabulous in its own right, the drum solos then segued seamlessly into an energetic performance of Los Endos which brought the entire 60,000-strong crowd to its feet in rapturous acclaim.

Inexplicably, we then made a return to the Invisible Touch album for Tonight, Tonight, Tonight (admittedly a crowd-pleaser) and the title track, before the usual temporary interruption to proceedings with the traditional "end of the show" followed by raucous clapping and shouts of "Encore!" Having seen the set list, I knew there were two more songs to come so I didn't partake of this bizarre ritual and eventually the band returned to close off the evening with I Can't Dance and Carpet Crawlers.

Now again, this was a disappointment on two counts. Carpet Crawlers may well be my favourite Genesis track of the lot. It certainly makes the top five. But did they start at the beginning? Did they heck. There I was waiting eagerly for "There is lambswool under my naked feet..." and instead what I got was " The crawlers cover the floor in the red ochre corridor." They started with the second verse! So that's two of my favourites butchered in one night and on top of that, Crawlers doesn't actually make for a very good finale. It kind of fizzles out, leaving you listening to a lot of empty air and some half-hearted clapping as people start to realise they're done.

We all agreed Los Endos would have been a far better climax to the concert. They could easily have swapped the encore with the drum duet and Los Endos and ended the show on a real high note.

But these are small niggles really. In the end it was a cracking show, pyrotechnic fireworks at the end and musical fireworks all the way through. They might be old but they proved they can still rock, and so can we.