Last Friday the old feller and meself went to see one of our favourite tribute bands- Limehouse Lizzy, a fantastic group who are very proud to keep alive the music of Thin Lizzy and Phil Lynott. The venue was the fabulous Assembly in Leamington Spa- well worth a visit if you are in the area! As usual the crowd was predominately male and aged around 45-50; still rockers at heart and a bit nostalgic for the 1970s and the bands of their youth. I swear as one bloke walked by, I actually got a whiff of Brut- he must have ‘splashed it all over’! ( ask your mum, kids)
As I was enjoying the set, I too became a bit nostalgic. I felt a pang, a hankering, if you will. Kids, chaps, or those of a nervous disposition, you may want to look away now. Ladies, I have to confess a secret passion for long skinny legs and snaky hips in a pair of leather trousers. A well filled, shiny black upholstered arse. I’m thinking Elvis in the ’68 comeback special. I’m thinking long hair, naked torso, scruffy, down and dirty, sexy bad boy rocker. Do I hear a whoop? Just me, then.
In my defence, my formative years were the 1970s, I went from Donny Osmond at junior school, through T Rex, Queen all the way to punk rock and beyond. We lusted after long-haired guys that our dads wouldn’t approve of. For a while, I worshipped Bob Geldof and the Boomtown Rats. I remember once, he chewed gum on Top of the Pops. Gum! My dad was appalled. When I was eighteen, I dated a guy in a local rock band- he was the lead singer, in fact. *high-fives self* In reality he worked in an office and was the nicest person you could imagine and yes, my dad liked him. His stage outfit was a blood stained butcher’s apron over a pair of tight jeans which he looked terrific in.
The male rear view can be a wonderful thing when hugged by blue denim; when you can count a guy’s loose change in his pocket. I feel very sorry for teenage girls right now; they are denied this simple pleasure because young men wear those horrible, unflattering baggy-crotched trousers that show their pants. Nobody looks good in them. NOBODY. Really.
Back at the gig, I am clearly showing my age ( and feeling it). The lead guitarists both have long flowing locks that they toss around wildly as they posture and play to the crowd. For a moment, I cannot help but worry that they might get their hair caught up in their equipment- this would not have crossed my mind a few years ago!! It was a great evening out and always a pleasure to hear the old songs again. Me and my old rocker grab a takeaway latte after the show -how rock’n’roll are we?- and look forward to the next time that the Boys are Back in Town- d’you see what i did there?
Here’s a link to the late great Gary Moore and Phil Lynott (complete with leather trousers) with a live version of ‘Parisian Walkways’– Enjoy!