Mid-Life Crisis Songs #92: Catching A Train Back In Time

On Thursday, the 3rd of October, 1996, I went to my first live gig. I was 24 year old... quite late to start gigging, but as I explained to Ben last week, "it took me that long to find some mates who were into music."

You could have stopped that after the first 9 words...

Thank you, Ben. See - he's not just there for the depressing political analysis.

Anyway, the first band I saw live were Ocean Colour Scene. I had a lot of time for them back in '96 - I still consider The Day We Caught The Train one of the greatest pop songs of the Britpop era - though I rather lost track of them around the dawn of the new Millennium. The cool kids told me it wasn't hip to like them anymore, and while I don't often pay attention to the cool kids... sometimes I do, subconsciously, at least... to my chagrin.

Last Friday, I took a time machine back 25 years when Simon Fowler & Oscar Harrison, half of OCS, played our local civic hall. It's a bizarre venue - the only other performance I've seen there is the local panto, written by the dad of one of Sam's school mates... although it's also the place where Louise and I attended ante-natal classes before Sam was born. "Foxy" Fowler remarked it was like playing a school assembly, and my back was screaming by the end of the night from sitting on the stiff, locked-together chairs, but the air was filled with nostalgia, so I pretended not to care.

The support act was also bizarre: former Dexys' bassist Pete Williams (and a young friend of his who thought he was Brian May). I didn't know Williams had a solo career, but he strikes me as the kind of bloke who's just glad to be alive and still making music after 40+ years in the business. He's no Kevin Rowland... but then who is?

Pete Williams - Heart Beats

The main event was well worth the wait... though I have to say that Simon doesn't exactly look like years have been kind to him, while Oscar looks pretty much the same as he did 25 years ago (with his teenage son on supporting percussion). The first half of the set was lesser known material, which clearly they enjoy playing more than the hits, but once the big tunes started coming, the audience were dancing in the aisles. (Not with my back.) Without guitar man Steve Craddock, they avoided the rockier tunes like The Riverboat Song and Hundred Mile High City, but everything else was as I remembered it, and we all caught a train at the end.

Here's a song from their breakthrough record that I'd forgotten all about, but the rest of the audience clearly hadn't...