Back To The Old House – The Smiths’ Scottish Tour 1985

The Seeker of Good Songs

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(edit: I just noticed that this was also posted on the main page...apologies to the original poster)

(A fan reminisces about the Smiths' Scottish tour of 26 years ago...from: http://jocknroll.wordpress.com/2011/06/18/back-to-the-old-house-the-smiths-scottish-tour-1985/)


Last night, during his gig at Ironworks in Inverness, Morrissey commented that it’d been 26 years (not quite) since he’d been in town and he wondered whether the Germans had bombed a local landmark.​
That landmark was the Eden Court Theatre, the site of The Smiths only ever gig in the city, which took place on 1 October 1985; a gig at which I was present. In fact I was at all seven dates on that Scottish tour. For a band to play out more than two or three gigs in Scotland on any tour was unprecedented, let alone a full stand-alone tour and The Smiths visited such far-flung holiday resorts as Irvine, Dundee, Aberdeen and Lerwick as well as Central Belt sparring partners Glasgow and Edinburgh. The last date of the tour was in Inverness. Morrissey replicates this tour on his current sojourn in Caledonia with stop offs in Perth, Inverness, Dunoon, Dunfermline (see you all there) and Hawick.

In September/October 1985 I took ten days off work and embarked on the adventure of a lifetime visiting every but and ben of The Smiths’ Scottish tour. In the heady days before Ticketbastard and their policy of fees for fees’ sake you could either queue up outside the local record shop (Ripping Records for the Edinburgh/Glasgow gigs) or simply send a cheque for the face value, along with a stamped-addressed envelope. As the pictures attached show, each ticket was £5 except for an exorbitant £6 in the case of the Clickimin Centre. It’s no wonder they only ever get Showaddywaddy and Barbara Dickson up there.
I recall one ticket coming from a record shop in Hamilton. All the tickets came back within a few days of each other. There were no gold tickets or pre-sales in those days just good old-fashioned first-come, first-served. Where’s the fun in spending several frustrating hours on a jammed phoneline trying to get through to a venue/booking agent when you could join several hundred like-minded souls camping out on the pavement outside a record shop or venue to ensure you get your grubby mitts on a pair of tickets to see The Smiths?
Having got tickets for all seven gigs – I felt like Charlie Bucket – I proceeded to tour the country by Citylink (or the local equivalent – Stagecoach hadn’t taken over the world then) through highland and lowland. Another £50+ was forked out for a seat on the 14-hour ferry trip from Aberdeen to Lerwick. A cabin was out of the question. I mean, who could sleep?

The order of the tour was Irvine (22 Sept) , Edinburgh (24), Glasgow (25), Dundee (26), Aberdeen (28), Lerwick (30) and, finally, Inverness. Each date of the tour seen to have its own drama. In Irvine, I realised that I hadn’t actually taken down the address of the B&B I was staying at! I’d got there, dumped my stuff and fled to the venue, such was my excitement. It was only on the comedown from the high of the first gig of the tour that I realised that I didn’t know where I was staying! I eventually found it when I told the taxi driver that I thought it was on or near a cobbled street. Thankfully, he knew immediately where it was. A good job the gig wasn’t in Edinburgh or I’d still be looking for my stuff now. I was so keen to get to the venue, the Magnum Leisure Centre, that I hadn’t bothered with a minor triviality like the address or phone number. A lesson learned.

Although the seven-date tour took ten days I do recall going back to work for a day. The next gig, in Edinburgh, was accessible from home and wasn’t really as adventure-filled as the others. At the other gigs I’d meet new people from all over the world whereas on this ‘hometown’ jaunt I was accompanied by friends. I loved them dearly but wanted to get back to my adventures ‘on the road’. It was the only gig at which I missed the whole of Easterhouse’s set of powerful leftist pop. I regretted that because as glorious as The Smiths were this was a double-header tour for me; two great bands for the price of one. The Smiths always had a knack for great support acts, well, almost always, and Easterhouse are still a favourite. For the rest of the tour I made sure I watched all of their set, although I missed a bit of it in Aberdeen.

As much as I enjoy the Barrowland Ballroom in Glasgow I don’t remember much about this particular visit there. I mean, in terms of the music, it’s well-documented elsewhere on the information super dual carriageway, but on a personal level the only thing that stood out was the hovel of a B&B that I’d booked in to. If I called it a shithole it would be unfair on shitholes. I knew it was bad when I saw the cockroaches leaving in disgust. Thankfully for me and the sake of the owners my memory of its name and location has been erased. I wish I could say the same for the smell.
Oh, you handsome devils!

Dundee was up next and that’s where I met a number of memorable people, not least the great man himself. One of my memories of that particular day was that I had a bad hair day, having run of “product”, which was probably VO5 mousse or that pink own brand hairspray Boots sold, which was perfumed or unperfumed – I wasn’t fussy – and came in industrial-sized cans. The photo above is evidence of my Capillus Horribilis. As I said, I met loads of people on the tour and I think, I say think, because it was a while ago you know, that I met Anne Hooper, Jane Hardwell and Angela Spray, a Bristolian triumvirate, as well as Amanda Hall (or was it Hill?) from the Midlands and an American called Blair Hill (or was it Hall?). There were also a couple of girls we – I know had a posse – rather cruelly dubbed “The Vicar’s Daughters”. I have a photo of them somewhere but I’ll spare everyone’s blushes. Apologies to anyone else I may have forgotten.​
"Scratch my name on your arm with a fountain pen"

Now I don’t want to come across as some sort of “player” because I most certainly was not but there was another drama with a young lady at the Caird Hall. I was sat next to her and she dropped her camera and we ended up fixing it with a plaster but she was upset because it was her mother’s camera and her mother “would kill her”. I cobbled together a plausible story as to why it had become damaged and she cheered up. She then told me that she could never go out with me (not that I had asked you understand) because I was such a good liar! The last of the international playboys, I most certainly was not...

(Article continues at http://jocknroll.wordpress.com/2011/06/18/back-to-the-old-house-the-smiths-scottish-tour-1985/)

 
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