If you’re a regular concert-goer these days, the chances are you attend mainly large venues – arenas and football stadiums. For lesser artists – usually those who had their heyday twenty to forty years ago – you might catch them at concert halls. A place you almost certainly won’t find a decent band is a university Students’ Union Bar. And yet, back in the early ’80s, Loughborough University’s SU hosted some of the more successful acts of the day. True, some had slipped a little past their prime, but most could still pull a crowd in now.
I was born five miles from Loughborough, so it was the nearest town for me. By 1980 I was working in the town, and by the spring of 1982, I was living there. It was handy for work, and it meant I could get a train without having to catch a bus first. By this time, I was a regular concert-goer and most required you to travel. Or so I thought.
I don’t know when I first realised gigs were held at the SU, but I suspect it was probably after I moved to Loughborough, because I can only remember leaving home and walking there, not catching a bus first.
The chances are the SU’s changed a bit since the early ’80s. At the time, I’d guess the capacity was probably in the mid-high hundreds – it wasn’t as big 
as a decent sized sports hall. Hard to imagine a venue that small hosting the likes of Elvis Costello, The Damned, Tom Robinson, Squeeze or Slade, isn’t it?
There was no seating, just an open space to mill about in and, at the back of the hall, the bar itself. Which meant, if you were so inclined, you could lean up against it drinking while the band were on. I remember standing there at a Dr Feelgood gig waiting for the band to come on, only to realise they were standing next to me! There was that kind of informality about the place.
That informality mustn’t have been explained to Lenny Henry. It was unusual to get a comedy gig, but I was curious to see what the star of New Faces and Tiswas was like live. Turns out, he hadn’t expected a standing only venue and refused to come out unless we all sat down. At first, I thought there was going to be a revolt, but eventually everyone conceded, though having several hundred adults sitting down as if they were at a primary school assembly wasn’t the best of starts.
Drink often flows at a gig, but especially so when the bar is easy to get to and you know you don’t have far to travel home. When Bad Manners appeared, 
you can pretty much imagine how the Can-Can went. The atmosphere was more like a youth club disco when you’ve smuggled some beers in. I can’t remember whether I was one of the many who ended up on the floor, but I wouldn’t be surprised.
Ian Dury’s appearance made me sit up and take notice. I knew he had a disability, but hadn’t appreciated how severe it was until he was literally carried on to the stage and propped up in front his mic. Once there, he was barely able to move, leaning on his stick for support throughout the gig. In spite of his immobility, he had a fantastic presence and was a great performer.
I’d seen Paul Young with the Q-Tips but, by 1983, he’d begun to establish himself by laying his hat where his home was and pleading for us to not only come back, but stay. The No Parlez album allowed him to finally make his mark, and he seemed to revel in it. As the lights went down, a strangely familiar fast percussion beat came over the speakers. It wasn’t until the pause and then the brass section came in that I recognised it for what it was. And that was the point at which Mr Young made his entrance to The Avengers theme tune. (Here’s a clip you can listen to if you want to try and imagine how it sounded.) In one sense, the use of the theme seemed out of place. This was the 1980s, and that series was from, and of, a different age. Yet, somehow, it worked. It must have done if I can still remember it 35 years later.
These days, of course, artists of a much lesser calibre expect an arena tour. Sadly, it’s become all about the money. A long, grinding tour of smaller venues might be hard work but, from the audience’s point of view, it offers a much more intense experience. No sitting down (unless it’s Lenny Henry), free movement around the venue, and often a chance – if you pushed to the front – to touch the stage and, sometimes, even the artist you’ve gone to see.
I remember going to watch Stevie Wonder at the NEC. We had seats right at the back and I remarked that he had a better chance of seeing us. Good taste has never been my strong suit, but it didn’t feel too far from the truth. The connection isn’t the same. Compared to pogoing in a jostling crowd only feet away from where the music’s being played, the experience is quite clinical. To be fair, at my age, I’d probably prefer to sit down for most of a gig, but kids in their teens and twenties are missing out on the thrills that were available to me at that age. And, frankly, so are the performers.
I’m sure we had a conversation about Squeeze (or rather I know I had a conversation with someone and you seemed the likeliest candidate). You couldn’t remember Jon Bentley, well he’s second left on your picture. He came from Hull and my mum cleaned for his mum ( we were a bit lower down the food chain!)
I think you’re right, Jill. At least, the story sounds familiar, and I can’t imagine I know too many people whose mothers cleaned for the families of Squeeze band members! I can’t recall whether you actually got to seem them live. I only saw them the once, but they were fantastic.
I did, in Edinburgh in 1982 – excellent concert
I think I saw them after that. I’m guessing 1983 or ’84. Jools Holland had left by then anyway – not that I missed him particularly! My guess is that Edinburgh was a more significant venue than a SU bar…
It was in one of the concert venues but can’t remember which one. Though in those days venues were the size of cinemas not huge arenas. Saw Yazoo in the same venue and was stood in the toilets next to Clare Grogan!!
And who wouldn’t want to be stood in the toilets with Clare Grogan?! Venues were so much better back, then, Jill. In a sense, that’s part of the theme of these blogs. We’ve lost a lot by moving on to the big venues. It’s so much harder to feel connected to the musicians. These days, I’m as likely to be watching a pub band as I am to be going to a “proper” gig.
Smaller venues are definitely better.
I think Lough Uni was around 800 capacity. It was one of the few uni’s which permitted tickets to be sold to ‘normals’ I.e. non students. I think this was because, back in the 80’s, the uni was a hell of a lot smaller than now and they probably couldn’t fill even such a modest sized venue with students.
I personally never liked it as it was a tiled floor and it’s amazing how that takes the joy out of the pogoing which was much in vogue back then.
I really regret not taking my camera down there more often as they were very sloppy security wise. The only time I did, it was to focus it on the ghastly Gary Glitter.
Quite why I chose him when far greater acts like The Smiths, Elvis Costello, Dexys, The Fall and a host of other great combo’ I witnessed there were far more deserving of my cameras attention I can only guess at.
And of course my heart weeps at the bands that weren’t on my radar back then so I ignored …. Joy Div, Undertones etc, what was I thinking, or not thinking more like?
But my most abiding memory is going to see The Alarm there and a girl tripping and launching a plastic glass of lager down me. It transpired that she tossed it on purpose because she once did it by accident and ended up dating the recipient. After that she decided to lob beer at any bloke she fancied, reasoning that it had worked once so why not again? “Well I’d rather you offered me a beer than threw it I over me” I told her when she confessed a few weeks later (yes we did go out for a short time but I couldn’t afford the dry cleaning bills)
There’s something about that last story of yours that rings a bell. Then again, you were a popular chap in those days (probably still are, if the truth be known…).
I hadn’t realised Loughborough was unusual in selling tickets to ‘normals’ (not a word used about either of us on a regular basis back then). And I know what you mean about the floor. It did add to the sports hall feel of the place. Still, it was a great opportunity for us to catch some great acts and still get very close to them.
We did see GG a few times back in the day, and I – through gritted teeth – will write about at least one of them some time. He was a terrible singer, but strangely entertaining in spite of that. Of course, this was long before he truth about him came out. I’d forgotten LSU was one of the venues we saw him at.
The Undertones would have been a great gig. Did see Fergal Sharkey perform when he went solo, but there was something very special about The Undertones.
If you ever saw the upcoming entertainment calendar for any other uni they were always ‘branded’ Students Only. I don’t recall any other uni venue permitting the great unwashed in. I think that Etonian way of thinking may well have been cleansed to a degree these days but it was in full flow back in the nineteen hateties
UPDATE. Looking at the ‘What’s on’ page on the uni’s website the answer appears to be ‘nothing gig related. Yes you can go to lectures and discussions, a choir Christmas Concert, and something called ‘Happy Monday’s’. Nothing to do with Shaun and Bez unfortunately, it appears to be various performances related to poetry and the spoken word. All very well and good but not quite as enlivening as many of the acts we saw going full tilt.
There’s also a little dialogue box and in it you can tweak the buttons for events which are ….
. All audiences
. Open to all
. Students only
. No fucking riff raff (well sort of)
Perhaps the no riff raff rules apply to the performers as well if there’s nothing gig related! Maybe we were just lucky enough to catch a golden period at Loughborough – and with gigs generally…