Drowning myself in cups of tea, I think back to the previous night. I was suffering from major post gig depression after Bombay.
Van and Larry snook in as the support act, and I bumped into Van during Magnet after some perv tried to feel me up. I got punched in the face by a few rugby blokes a couple of times due to being like 3ft tall. I failed to get a setlist, as the girl next to me snatched it form my hands and their roadie tried to throw me a pick but missed completely. Then, after buying a t-shirt and getting over my lack of setlist, Van and Larry gave me a lift home.
I was supposed to go with Eve, a friend from sixth form, but she had to sell her ticket to go towards paying for her Leeds fest ticket, so I ended up going on my own.
The blood flowed from my cheek as I tried to clean the my cheek with an antibacterial wipe and a plaster. My cheek was cut last night after getting (accidentally) backhanded by a man with a clunky watch. It scabbed over overnight but reopened this morning when I had an itch and forgot about the cut. It was also slightly swollen but nothing an ice pack couldn't heal.
"The gigs you go to are too rough," My brother, Sam, told me, taking a gulp of his tea and turning on Match of the Day, "Just go to like Paolo Nutini and have a good sway or sommat."
"You just can't handle it you weak fuck."
I munched through my coco pops and turned on Jeremy Kyle. I had no more gigs to go to for a month now, where I'd had three gigs in the past two weeks and at least one for the past four months. Now, all I have to look forward to for the next thirty days are days off work and family nights in my mam and dad's club.
Working in the club was my fourth job (after working in the studios, the record shop and topshop - for the discounts), pulling pints and booking gigs at The Forest Club. My uncle described it as this generation's Hacienda.
It opened in '91; my mam and dad quit their teaching jobs to pursue their mutual dream of supporting up and coming bands. Oasis played there in the early 90's, before Supersonic was released; my mam refused to book them for ages because she thought they were shite, but then Noel joined and they began playing every other week. The Courteeners played in their early days, as did the Arctic Monkeys and Jake Bugg did a secret gig here only the other month.
I grew up in the place.
I felt like Amy might be trying to drop hints for me to book Van's band, since decent sized crowds always gather whenever there's a band on and it would be good promotion for them.
She was making me come along to their gig tomorrow night. I didn't mind though, it'll be a riot if their music's as good as they make it out to be.
-
The next morning I was awoken by the dull ringing of my phone. Two things occurred to me when I looked at the screen; I'd slept in till 2 in the afternoon and Amy had tried calling me three times now.
"Alright mate?" I asked, groggily sitting up in my bed.
"Yeah, just letting you know, change of plan for tonight. We're gonna have to set off a bit earlier than planned..."
"Right, when's that?"
"Half 4, so you better get sorted because we have to go to the off license, get some booze and pick up Winnie from the train station," She explained.
"Alright, sound," I said, closing the conversation, being too exhausted to ask any further questions.
I showered and changed into some Man United football shorts and a red knitted jumper. When I got downstairs, I heard the rustling about of bags and shoes clunking on the floor. Mam was home from the Big Friday Shop.
She greeted me with an excited smile, having been in Liverpool for the week with my Dad for their anniversary.
"Kate, love!" My mam exclaimed, rushing over to me in a hug, "How've you been?"
I filled her in on the Bombay gig and the gig tonight. Immediately, her mannerisms changed; she became nostalgic, remembering the Stone Roses at Spike Island and Oasis at Knebworth and all the other huge gigs she and my dad used to go to.
"It's a shame you were too young to see Oasis in '96, isn't it love?" Mam said with a smug smile, resuming putting away the shopping.
I gave her a sarky grin in return and took a bag of crisps from one of the plastic bags, before kicking my feet up on the couch and playing 'Banana Pancakes' on my guitar.
-
I had to change from my 'comfies' and into dungarees and a red and navy stripy t-shirt so I would be ready for Amy rolling into my driveway at half four. I jumped into her shit inbetweeners fiat and put on These Streets by Paolo Nutini.
We jerked in our seats slightly and I heard her mutter 'bollocks' as she stalled the car.
Amy was possibly the worst driver ever; she skidded round the corners, narrowly missing kerbs and couldn't avoid massive pot holes to save her life. And she managed to achieve all of these on the 10 minute drive to the off-license in town.
"What's up with going so early anyway?" I asked, putting my adidas onto her dashboard carelessly, as she struggled to carry all the booze and put it in the boot of her car.
"Squad's coming round tonight so we're gonna do a detour to mine. Van asked if we'd help Larry put up some posters around town n'all," She replied, shoving my feet down as she took her place in the drivers seat.
The Fiat of Destruction took off again, causing me to grip to my seatbelt for dear life. Being in the passenger seat of that car was the closest thing to a near death experience I will ever have. After the detour, I asked the whereabouts of the gig and Amy told me they were playing in the live part of the Dry bar, or 'Dry live'.
Knowing that there were only double yellows in the closest place to the bar possible, we had to park a block away. But as we walked around, the familiar silhouettes of Van and Larry appeared, apparently waiting for us.
"Alright lads," I said, blocking the abnormal February sun from my eyes as we approached them.
"Alright, how're yous?" Larry asked.
"Yeah, we're alright," Amy said coolly, and I nodded.
"You coming tonight then, Kate?" Van asked, raising his eyebrow. Amy had been to a few of their gigs already and seen them at house parties and stuff.
"Yeah, wellaye," I laughed, "So, are we helping yous poster about or not?"
Larry quickly handed us a few posters each and some rolls of tape and they both followed us, as we ventured deeper into the city.
The four of us walked together for a few blocks, before realising that we'd cover a larger area if we split up. To my surprise, the chuckle brothers had to separate when Larry asked Amy if she wanted to go with him. I laughed as Van turned to me and raised his eyebrows in mock offence.
"Fuck sake, come on then Kate!" Van groaned in an obvious jokey tone, before walking away and flinging his arm up, motioning me to follow.
I trailed along next to him, his long strides were too quick for my short legs, until he slowed down at a corner.
"I wish you wouldn't walk so fucking quick," I complained, holding the stitch in my side. Van chuckled as he stuck a poster on a lamppost and outside a couple of shops.
"Well grow then," he laughed.
Probably a couple of had passed and we'd postered as much of Manchester City Centre as possible. We stuck posters outside and near popular gig venues like Band on the Wall, The Roadhouse, The Academy and The Ritz; outside various shops and in shop windows; on car windscreens and a few pubs.
On the way back to the bar, we passed a pub which sounded particularly rowdy, and therefore busy. A look was shared between us and started sticking a poster on the wall next to where a big muscly bloke was stood; I noticed the tension in his stance and the lingering smell of alcohol that surrounded him.
As Van put the tape onto the top of the paper, the lad turned around looking particularly narked off.
"What do you think you're doing, mate?" The bloke growled, pointing to the poster with a veiny arm.
"Promoting our gig tonight. Is it a problem? We don't want any bother," Van said politely, indirectly offering to take down the poster.
"Yeah, it's a fucking problem mate. See these," The man spat, literally, pointing to another, slightly psychedelic poster on the wall, "this is my band, and we're playing here tonight."
"Well, you seem a bit past your time if I'm honest, mate."
That didn't help to do any thing but add fuel to the fire; the geezer took a swing at Van but he narrowly dodged it. Hurriedly, I grabbed Van's arm and walked away.
"Have you seen him about before?" Van asked, as motioned for me to follow him round the back of the building.
I had to think for a minute before answering, since I worked that many jobs that I wouldn't be surprised if I had seen him somewhere.
"I think he might come in the record shop sometimes. If it's the same bloke then he really likes The Courteeners, comes in asking if we have any rare stuff," I told him, as Van showed the bouncer at the back door a pass that identified he was part of the band.
I followed him round the small backstage area, both slagging off the lad, until we reached a sitting room/dressing room where Amy and Larry were sat.
-
As the time ticked nearer to Catfish & the Bottlemen taking the stage, the bar started filling up. I figured that I had clearly underestimated the popularity of them. Or people took notice in the billions of posters littered around the city. And also that I still hadn't listened to them.
Amy and I found ourselves back in the crowd, probably towards the middle of the back. The room wasn't massive though, so it wouldn't make much of a difference unless you wanted a setlist or something.
We made conversation with the people around us, about how they know the band and stuff. Some people saw the posters. Some people already liked them and saw the posters. And some people had seen them at festivals or found a demo of theirs on their windscreen.
The lights went down, and the band walked onto the stage. I felt the bass pounding against my chest as everyone started jumping up and down. I was carried closer to the front by the currents in the crowd, and coincidentally, Amy had too. The girl stood next to me had really long hair, which I kept accidentally pulling or getting in my mouth. But I brushed it all away, getting into the high energy gig.
I'd also come to the conclusion that I'd underestimated how good they'd be, I didn't expect this. The atmosphere resembled a stadium gig, getting on people's shoulders and crowd surfers and beer getting thrown. I remembered Van telling me about his goals to recreate the crowd of Oasis at Heaton Park, and it didn't look very far away at all.