Low key showbiz

In complete contrast to the Supertramp Gig, the Summer of 1976 was rather flat with the diary fairly empty at the City Hall. There were two things to look forward to on the horizon though- our new lighting and sound installation, and a two week residency at the nearby Gosforth Civic Hall, a fairly new building replacing the ghastly flat floor asbestos clad Central hall which burnt down in the early 70s. (I did see a couple of am-dram shows there and had my first attack of stage fright.)

The custodian at the Civic had a fortnight holiday and Colin had been asked to cover there for a number of events, mostly weddings and parties. I leant a hand and he split any tips he got with me. I took great pleasure in relamping everywhere and fixing anything that needed attention, as well as setting the stage lighting to best effect for the events.

It also had two backstage dressing rooms in a locked off area that were a handy hidey-hole for a bit of peace and quiet during the evening.

Our first proper show back at the City Hall was Richard Stilgoe, supported by a Christian group called Nutshell. (I still have the album they gave me, called "In your eyes", I have never played it!) Colin and I were sitting Front Circle with our new lighting & Sound desks and there were only about fifty people in the audience downstairs.

During the first couple of songs, they had some real problems tuning up and staying in tune. During a protracted tuning session and several apologies, I shouted out "Do you want to borrow a welder?"

Colin sat there chuckling right until the interval. When I commented to him that it wasn't that funny, he said that the funny bit was that it was me that had shouted it, being so out of character!

An early career crisis

Supertramp played Newcastle City Hall as part of a thirty date sellout for their Crisis? What Crisis? tour in 1975/76.

I don't recall the exact date, but I know I was only a few weeks away from my Mock "A" levels in the upper Sixth Form so it was probably November.

(There is a Supertramp time line online here but it has gaps in it).

The reason I remember it so vividly is because I was offered the chance to tour with them as road crew. Let me fill in the story some more...

In 1974, Supertramp released their seminal Crime of the Century Album and it rapidly became a favourite album amongst those of us at school into progressive stuff (ELP, Pink Floyd, Genesis, Yes, Jethro Tull, Rick Wakeman even). Many of our school colleagues were into much heavier stuff (Black Sabbath, Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix) and to them Supertramp was a bit too "soft rock" but to those of us with an ear for sensitive melody and thoughtful lyrics, Supertramp were a delight.

They followed it up with the Crisis? What crisis? Album, the quote being (wrongly) attributed to Jim Callaghan, the then Prime Minister, returning from holiday into the midst of industrial strife in the run up to the eventual Winter of Discontent. The album cover featured someone sunbathing under a yellow parasol in what looked like a burnt out industrial wasteland.

I had bought the new album a few weeks before the gig and was getting nicely into it. I had been looking forward to the Gig ever since I had seen it listed on Moose's typed bookings list as Crime Of The Century was still my favourite Album at the time.

In advance of the Gig, I was told about how Supertramp were not like other bands. Most shows hired in the sound and lighting from the big name tour production Companies arranged by the Promoter as a package, generally with Edwin Shirley Trucking for the logistics and sometimes with a catering Company. Supertramp, however, owned most of their equipment in order to contain costs and paid the crew directly rather than through others. (Roxy Music were another Band that did something similar, they had a their own PA).

Come the day, the get-in was a fairly regular affair, although they also rigged a black backing drape (a curtain) with screen behind. Once the humping had finished, I offered to stay on, hoping to see the Band appear and sound-check in due course. Sitting near the mixing desk whilst the channels and speakers were checked out, I suddenly realised that the people nearby with Wives and Children were the mainstays of the Band, Rick Davies and Rodger Hodgson. They both had beards and Rodger looked rather Jesus-like despite wearing Jeans and a T shirt. They were also cool enough to say hello. (Contrast that with those of massive ego who insisted on the venue being cleared before they would sound check- Elton John, Freddie Mercury, Paul MacCartney).

Suddenly, they realised that they had a mini-crisis. As well as an electric Piano, Rick had a touring hammond Organ with a large traditional Leslie speaker in a polished wood cabinet and the Leslie had big problems making graunching noises. A Leslie speaker is a full range phase effect unit which contains spinning horns and sound drums to vent the music out from the speakers producing a distinct spacey sound via the doppler effect (where the pitch of a horn changes in an oncoming car that passes you). It is the mainstay of blues organ (Think Booker T & the MGs) and it was essential to Rick Davies' sound on certain songs. Someone from a music shop in the Handiside Arcade was summonsed and offered much Wonga to put it right again.

I then leant a hand focussing the lights onstage, holding a large metal A-frame ladder whilst the lighting designer (the Lampy) nipped up and fine-tuned the positioning. In the middle of this, as time was pressing, the band decided to come on and sound check around me. Dougie Thomson, the Bass player, was standing right next to me tuning up and was fingering various riffs. In the middle of it I recognised the distinctive sound from hide in your shell which is only four repeated notes (Dah-Dohw-dah-Dooooooaaaaaaooowww) but really deep and compelling. I gave him a big grin, he winked back, then suggested to the others they check using Hide in Your Shell so I was in near rapture holding this ladder in the middle of my favourite supergroup playing my favourite song!

All too soon they cleared the stage and we carried on focussing. We continued to gingerly move the ladder around the stage. I was just about to step back when the lampy said "Freeze!" I stopped, looked behind me and saw that I was about to stand on a badly positioned guitar... That could have been very career limiting!

We were relaxing afterwards and we were talking about lighting design and what a pile of poo the house rig was. He then made me an extremely generous offer- If I wanted to I could light the support band from their front of house lighting desk (an Electrosonic Rockboard, complete with Cigar lighter, a de-facto desk of the 70s) and using the House Follow Spots. Was I up for it? I couldn't believe how generous he was being. We had got on OK but I was just a 17 year old kid with a lighting obsession. Was I up for it? Course I was, even if I wasn't getting extra money for it (as it happened, I did get the show rate). He limited me to a number of presets (the back truss washes) so as not to use up all of the visual effects but that was fine, the other crew members were up for it as well on the follow-spots.

He then dropped his second bombshell offer- the road manager came over and asked if I would be interested in coming along for the rest of the tour? They were one short on the stage crew and I'd just be a dogsbody but I seemed to know what i was doing and if we liked each other, there was the chance to tour with them worldwide in the Summer...

I have to say that I thought long and hard about it for a few minutes. This was my favourite band and if I wanted to work in show business then crewing with a band at the peak of their success was a great leg up, rather than doing all that bottom feeder stuff like theatre in education and the Krankies do Pontins. I then thought about the down side. Life on the road is hard work, stressful, disorienting, insecure and full of risk. I had seen so many roadies turn up out of their heads on hash (or harder) and not knowing what City it was. I was also in the run up to my mocks and to give up school then would have effectively thrown away my 6th form and chance of going into higher education. I was planning to do Electrical & Electronic engineering at Newcastle Poly which would have meant that I could hopefully have continued being on the City Hall Crew for several more years. Also, whilst I loved rock & roll, by real love was theatre rather than concerts. I swallowed the bitter reality pill, sanity prevailed and I said "Thanks, but no thanks".

By now, it was nearly time to let the punters in. I asked about the support act- a Band called Joan Armatrading and the Movies. They suggested that I go and talk to them so I made my way to their dressing room and asked what kind of lighting they would like. The Movies were indulging in a rather dodgy home made cigarette (sickly sweet smell...) and Joan Armatrading looked extremely uncomfortable with them doing so! (She probably wasn't endeared with the idea of sharing a dressing room with six blokes either...). She seemed pleased that someone had actually taken the trouble to ask her what she would like and the Movies were too busy worrying about where the Mars Bars were to offer an opinion. Mellow, smooth, blue for a particular song were the directions.

Anyway, the first half passed without incident, a very good set tastefully lit my Moi, ably assisted by the CSI guys up top. I don't recall very much about it now other than that I thought Joan Armatrading had a great voice, a great guitar talent and would go far (and indeed she did). It felt very strange sitting out front in the middle of the audience to light a show, I had been used to being in the Wings or in a Control Box at the back of the balcony.

At the interval, my job was done and I could enjoy the main show. Supertramp didn't use Follow-Spots, although they had asked if it was OK to use one as an effect at the end of a particular song (Not quite right, a song about mental health). They might not get round to using it they said but we were fine. Just before the House Lights went down, one of the crew came on with a large yellow parasol and raised it behind the drum riser, that got a big cheer...

The show was superb, clear sound and tastefully lit. When Not Quite Right came on, I nipped up to the back of the balcony to strike up one of the CSIs, just in case they used it. (They take a minute or so to reach full brightness). Spot on time, one of the crew appeared to do the cue. It was tight on Rick's hands as he did a piano playout riff that went a bit awry, then the beam did a sort of St. Vitus dance up the backcloth and was extinguished as the cuckoo notes were played. Succinct, visual and clever!

Whilst the show was brilliant, there was one downer- John Anthony Heliwell, the Saxophonist. He was the voice of the band and he came over as a bit of a tosser, a cross between Timmy Mallett and Alan Partridge. At one point he sung the Alphabet Song wrapped in Tivoli lamps and his lighting cue was "Turn me on man!" He was a great horn player though...

The final song of the show was "Crime of the Century" and this included a video sequence. (Actually 16mm film, video projection was in its infancy in the mid 70s). As the song built up to its long and laborious climax, we drifted through a star field of unknown space. Eventually a small blob appeared and resolved itself as we got closer into a pair of hands at the bars of a celestial cage. This expanded to fill the screen then we were through and into space again, a real tingles down the spine moment. (I have a more recent supertramp DVD and they still use this visual effect, although it also includes other Supertramp motifs like tightropes and shears as part of the progression).

They may have done an Encore, I don't recall. The crowd left ecstatic but of course we still had work to do.

The get-out was unremarkable and rather tiring. As the truck doors were closed and they were ready for the off, the crew wished me well and hoped to see me again.

Unfortunately, next time they came in November 1976, I had been sent to Coventry, but that is another story...

City Hall Facilities...

I came across this technical spec for the City Hall and another tenuous glimpse at the coving where the roadie put his foot through. I have a few photos but I can't lay my hands on them at the moment.


There are 2,135 seats plus the choir stalls behind, if usable.

I notice it says power- 3 phase 200A, 3 phase 100A, 3 phase 30A, all onstage. In my time, we had a 30Amp supply onstage for the PA, the normal 100A lighting supply located towards the understage crossover passage and if needed, a 200A supply in the Managers office understage. (There was a 4" circular lined hole from stage level to pass the cables down). The supply was rather heath-robinson, a very large circuit breaker about 2' x 1' hung onto a door with large power cables looped over to the electrics and bolted directly onto the main intake busbars. (Shrouded, fortunately!)

There was only a 3 phase 300A supply for the entire building, including the swimming baths next door, so when Genesis came and wanted a 3 phase 500A supply, they had to arrange for a generator.

I never got to see Genesis, the first few months I didn't get to work every show as I obviously had to go to school during the week and not every band wanted follow-spot operators. From memory, I did work Wings, Supertramp, Darts, Status Quo, Eric Clapton, Barclay James Harvest, 10CC, Queen, Showaddywaddy, Gary Glitter, Blue Oyster Cult, Osibisa, Steve Harley, Brian Ferry, Rick Wakeman, Strawbs, Chi-Lites, Elton John, David Essex, Richie Blackmore's rainbow, Lindisfarne, Morecambe & Wise, Billy Connolly, Frankie Vaughan, Richard Stilgoe, Peter Frampton, Jasper Carrott, Hawkwind, Last Exit (pre-Police), Leo Sayer, Chuck Berry, Blue Jays (post-Moody Blues), Kraftwerk, Steeleye Span, James Last, Stylistics, Barry White, Mud, Dr. Hook and... the Bay City Rollers. I also worked numerous smaller shows like the Wrestling and various charitable events.

Alas- The Who & Led Zeppelin went to the Odeon, it had 2,500 seats (& a "proper" stage, if rather shallow). Pink Floyd didn't come to small chicken-shit venues those days either.

I don't recall ABBA coming to Newcastle, nor David Bowie, nor Rod Stewart. Nor a zillion others.

One day I'll take a trip to the Newcastle reference library and look at the microfilmed Evening Chronicles to see what I have forgotten.

One other improvement I noticed on the facilities list- a shower in the main dressing room.

UPDATED: I also recall Hot Chocolate, Manfred Mann, George Melly and lots of orchestral concerts by the Northern Sinfonia. (Hat tip GayMal for telling me Blue Oyster Cult was in twice).

Tomorrow Belongs to Me

Let me tell you the story of my first ever (paid) Gig. I had befriended Moose, the Newcastle City Hall stage Manager (or more officially, Custodian as far as the City Council was concerned) at my reccy visit for an upcoming school prizegiving and subsequently on the actual event in the summer of 1974. (Or was it 75? I'm starting to get confused when I search for references on 't'internet!)

He casually mentioned that he was looking for Humpers for the Sensational Alex Harvey Band that weekend and possibly a follow-spot during the show.

Now, as I'd never been paid for a show before at that stage (I was in 5th form at school) I said yes before I even knew what the rates were, or indeed what my plans were. It was £5 for humping- (Getting the flight cases out of the truck and then back in again afterwards) and £2 to be a showman.

It was all cash in hand, of course. The resident show crew were actually paid as part of the "Stewart list" (i.e. the door staff, otherwise known as Bouncers.)

The get-in was reasonably uneventful- a zillion wheeled flight cases to be trundled down the ramp, in the stage door, up a crude wooden board over the first three steps, through the stage left doorway, up another couple of steps onto the platform itself then to be left where the roadies wanted it. (Most went onstage but some went out to the mixing position, a few down to the dressing rooms and a couple of big heavy ones up to the back of the balcony. Whilst I wasn't familiar with the subtleties of rock & roll touring, I was able to recognise the purpose of much of the equipment once the lids came off.

Once the van was empty, the road crew would dismiss the house staff but welcomed those that wanted to hang around and lend a hand. The sort of jobs we would get were fairly typical at the time- help assemble the lighting trusses, Get the CSIs (follow-spots) rigged up onto their stands and tested, help roll out the Multicores. (The multicore was the thick sausage cable that linked the mixing position and the stage. It was generally ran out for both lighting and sound, often with sundry intercom cables as well.)

Running the multicore involved using up at least a roll or two of "Gaffa tape", generally grey or silver, single sided, fabric base, very sticky and relatively easily removable afterwards. We would put carpet strips over the cables in the main aisles and then ensure they were very well stuck down so that people didn't trip up.

The crew were very amiable, mostly Scots and very good at what they did. (SAHB were a scottish band).

For the actual show, this was my first introduction to wearing headphones with a boom mic on an intercom system, We wore a beltpack which also had a cue light on it to get your attention if you were "off cans" (e.g. during the interval). The cues and directions were called by the lighting designer (the LD),who was also operating the lighting desk. There were four of us that night (the two regular guys on the Hall followspots and another two of us on the brought-in followspots).

The actual show was a fairly easy one to work. I don't remember who the support was (or if we had to light them) but the LD explained who the band were, what they played and assigned us each to a musician. (I was given Zal Clementson, the outrageous Guitarist who wore a sort of cat suit, had white clown makeup and strutted). He called the lighting cues well to the point that we were able to second-guess them for great visual timing. We were also rather good at opening up on the right place without having to jerk scrappily into position or flash golfball-sized beams to check beforehand.

There was one big visual lighting cue, where the Band played "Delilah". In the middle 8, the band turned their backs on us and strutted their bums and our cue was to go tightly in onto their arses and follow them accordingly. We managed to pull it off seamlessly and we received high praise from the LD. Indeed he gave us tour T shirts afterwards as a thank-you.

One thing I didn't expect though, was how noisy it was wearing headphones. With 2,100+ frenetic fans screaming their lungs off we were having to shout to each other over the cans. At first it hurt, then you tuned in and got used to it. (Turning off our own boom mics unless we needed to say anything also helped). I didn't realise how loud it had been until I rang home from backstage after the gig- and thought the phone was faulty as I could hardly hear my mum.

I was also lined up for another Gig that night- SAHB were playing the Newcastle Mayfair Ballroom a few weeks later and it was such a notoriously bad get-in (being two floors underground with a goods lift the size of a filing cabinet) that the crew arranged for eight of us to participate in the Gig. I had really enjoyed them and I looked forward to a chance to see them again.

I didn't get a free Album on that occasion but I did buy "Tomorrow Belongs to Me" from Callers a few weeks later. SAHB also released delilah as a "Live" Single and I was delighted to see that the cover photos featured them at the City Hall, although I don't know if the recording was ours. One of those big white beams had me on the other end of it.

Bad things happen in threes...

Blue Oyster Cult, 20th of November 1975, Newcastle City Hall. The first sign of trouble was when the noise boys balked at the position of the big plywood sheets centre stalls just under the balcony for their mixer. "Put them further back, and way off to the side, you don't want to be sitting there, trust me".

The get-in passed without incident, although they needed some dropping points from the roof to hang something or other. One of us went up into the roof and moved some sunfloods (rectangular floodlight fittings) out of the way to drop ropes, then someone else turned them on whilst they were face down on the timber walkways. (I was guilty of one of them, but I don't remember which one now with the passage of time. My mate Keith was the other culprit.)

Half an hour or so later, we heard a bit of a rumpus on the stage. (We were backstage doing something else).

It turned out that a small fire had started in the roof space and one of the roadies had seen the smoke. He was an ex-U.S. Fireman and he managed to put it out with a water extinguisher. Unfortunately, he didn't know his way round the roof space. Let me describe it to you.

At the top of the stage right stairwell was a half-height door leading into the roof space above the auditorium. When you opened it, you were confronted with a short wooden ladder which led up to a narrow walkway. You then had to duck down through a small triangular gap underneath a large steel roof girder at which point there was a curving timber ladder to your left which led to the criss-crossing ceiling walkways. you were actually traversing the upper surface of the ceiling fibrous plaster cornice and whilst it is very strong, it is not designed to be walked on directly.

(I can't find a decent photo, but here is the ceiling, from their website:



What the firefighter had done was to have scrambled up the light timber frame of the curved cornice the wrong side of the girder- consequently he managed to create a shoe shaped hole in the plasterwork. He was very lucky that he hadn't missed his footing and plunged to his probable death. He said afterwards that he hardly even registered what he had done as he was so single-mindedly determined to put that fire out.

(A week or two later, Jimmy the Joiner fitted numerous asbestos-type sheets all round the possible places plonker stage crew could have possibly put the sunfloods).

During the gig, it was still painfully loud, even with our standard issue Boots fibrous wax earplugs in place. Then something else scary happened in the second half. There was a US Navy ship docked down on the Tyne that week and a number of sailors came to see the show. Some of them managed to get backstage and decided to trash one of the toilets. They ripped the sinks and WC tanks off the walls and left it to flood. Unfortunately, it was a toilet high up on the same staircase as the roof void access and at the bottom was a large metal cabinet housing the stage lighting control panel & house light dimmers. So we had our very own internal waterfall cascading onto the electrical equipment! Fortunately, our House L/X (the Manager's Son) had the presence of mind to grab some black sacks from the (very wet) cleaner's store in a small kitchen below and others knew where the stopcocks were so a crisis was quickly just turned into a drama. We were delighted that the house lights came on again at the end of the evening !

Some time later, I asked the Manager what the damage had been financially after the ceiling hole got patched. He told me a figure with a twinkle in his eye- they had simply withheld some of it from the box office takings on the night and sent them a subsequent supplementary bill which was paid without question, once he had pointed out that the hire contract held the hirer liable for all damage, however caused.

Seconds away- round one!

Last friday, I went with some work colleagues to a nearby Gym at lunchtime in order to work out. (One of them was an Instructor so he had the keys!).

It was a martial arts gym, specifically for Thai Boxing. It had the usual selection of workout machines, a considerable number of punchbags (two of which were on springs so they were very hard to hit), a large floor space- and a boxing ring.

The last time I saw a ring in the flesh was at a holiday camp wrestling night at Great Yarmouth. This was a particularly surreal night as the venue wasn't overly high and the wrestlers had to duck under the dance floor lighting truss as they cavorted around the ring. Also, strangely enough, the wimpiest entertainer managed to thrash the professional wrestlers in a sensational grudge match. Entertainment indeed!

The first time I ever saw a wrestling ring was my first time backstage at Newcastle City Hall, which I have blogged about before. It was erected in the stalls and I helped the custodian (a character named Moose) fit up the traditional four shade ring light which was hoisted into the air via a small winch (that had two hooks with enormous iron balls on them to give them weight), the purpose of which was actually for the original Cinema screen which rolled out from a recess under the stage. As the wire rope drop points weren't in the right place, the ring light was tied into place by ropes attached to the balcony slips handrails. It was plugged in to a stage lighting outlet above the stage (in the large roof void) and consequently it was on a dimmer, so we could fade the four 500 Watt lamps smoothly up and down to top and tail the show. The light fitting had been home made from lengths of conduit (probably by the Council Electricians) and it lived in a basement store front of house next to the bar, where the stage extension framework lived (and the seats that were removed were put as there wasn't really anywhere else for them). I think the ring was brought in for the day and it took several hours to set up, generally by the wrestlers. Even Brian Crabtree used to lend a hand, before he put his Ringmaster's jacket on.

Back at the gym, the ref was electronic- a series of coloured lights and beeps signified the rounds & rests. Another difference was that there were four ropes instead of three but the overhead flood lamps were still there.

I didn't go into the ring (to box), but did put on some gloves and gave the punchbags a good pounding. They all have names now!