Paul Goodwin

Everything's Getting Older

Published on Fri 30 Mar 2012

We were in Liverpool and Manchester at the weekend because Annie was doing a couple of gigs. I've not been to either place for at least a decade. Liverpool is supposedly a lot nicer than it used to be, and to be fair the dock area is pretty grand (though we were bothered by a herd of acting students at one stage making some ham fisted political point), but the whole place felt slightly aggressive. And the Zizzi's tasted a bit funny. And we spent a while looking for Underwater Street, which sounded amazing but turned out to be a children's education centre. I took a lot of nice photos of the shimmering river and the Liver building and the statue of Billy Fury (there are a LOT of statues there) but my camera has misplaced them. It's happened before, and I expect they'll turn up again. But not in time for this. All I'll say about the gig is that I reckon 90% of the unsigned things I've been to this year have had at least one act from the Liverpool Institute of Performing Arts, and I don't reckon the entry requirements can be that high. But then I've always felt that training drains the feeling out of things. And writing good songs isn't really something you can teach. Not that either of those things are what you need to succeed, and I guess that is the point of stage school.

We couldn't find a hotel in Liverpool for under £150, so we got a late train over to Manchester, which was full of people who think Jersey Shore is some kind of religious broadcast. There was more eyelash per person than in an entire trainful of people from south of Birmingham. Still, it's not so long a journey. We were staying on Hilton Road, and still feeling nervous from spending 10 minutes on the street in Liverpool, decided to get a cab, which took us to the Hilton hotel, 15 minutes in the wrong direction. The driver was a good sport about it though.

Next morning we went for a walk after watching a bit of The Sorceror's Apprentice. No, not that one, this one was even worse. Manchester seemed a lot more relaxed, nicely run down rather than threateningly run down, with some cool little cafes and restaurants and some dubious grammar.

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We got "brekkie" which only really works in a northern accent, hung around in a music shop until the guy showing off on the piano got too much to bear, and had some Guinness and chocolate cake, which sounds like a great idea, and was nice, but on balance probably wasn't as nice as the chocolate milkshake I was considering instead. The day was made more relaxed by the venue being nice enough to let us leave our stuff there.

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We also met up with my old mate Cavan, another of the friends I've made at the Folk Club over the years. He's still living the dream and it was really good to see him. The gig, which was great, finished in time for us to wander past the canal district which, maybe not surprisingly, reminded me of Amsterdam, get a pretty good pizza, and still make the train. Sitting on trains, doing the crossword with the sun setting is one of the nicer things in life.

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I went to see Bell Wells and Aidan Moffat at The Portland on Tuesday. Support act RM Hubbert mostly played very impressive and emotional instrumental guitar pieces, with the occasional song thrown in. He seemed like a very nice chap. I'm not sure why he looks like a painting in this photo.

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Bill Wells and Aidan Moffat was comfortably gig of the year so far, though I was expecting that, as "Everything's Getting Older" and their "Cruel Summer" EP must be two of the records of last year. It's not the kind of thing I'd like the sound of if you described it to me - lots of spoken word over almost jazz backing, but the words are so brilliantly funny and moving, and the voice so full of character. I doubt he'd get into LIPA. This is what gigs should look like. 

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They turned around while waiting for the encore rather than going offstage. Nice.

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I feel like Scotland and Canada are making most of the good music at the moment.

On Wednesday I did my first gig in Norwich in 3 1/2 years, having had a very traumatic experience last time. Fortunately this time everyone was much nicer to me. The night is called Grapevine@Bedfords and Steve who runs it must be one of the nicest promoters out there. It's so much better when people are doing things for the love of it rather than to make money. Little things like giving us food and convincing people to come make all the difference... The venue is lovely too - a big room above a bar with wooden beams and wonky chimney breasts. And great sound. Setlist: The Ghost of Paddy's Night Past (I forgot some words - though I'd not even touched a guitar since the Portland gig 6 weeks ago, so maybe it's forgiveable), Watertight, This Place is Dead Anyway, So Finally a Love Song, 60 Miles with a Slow Puncture (someone requested it before the show!), Edinburgh, You Won't Break my Heart. Here's a video of So Finally a Love Song

Annie and The Willows were great too. Here's a picture of Cliff pretending he's the banjo player in Kiss.

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They were nice enough to give us a lift home because we'd missed the (just too early to be properly useful) last train. Mostly due to their soundcheck (just kidding). It's been a long time since I was last in a car on the A14 coming back from a gig at half past midnight. I got a bit nostalgic.

Here's something you've probably never seen in real life. Can you guess what it is?

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That's right - it's a dessert from an Indian restaurant. It wasn't bad either. I'm glad I didn't get the funky pie.