No 2. Manchester Academy. 25th January 2003

After the triumphant night at the RFH, I just knew I had to see this band again. They were still touring the UK, I knew Lizzy had booked to go and see them in Glasgow but that was a) a lot nearer to where she lived than where I lived b) on an evening which was inconvenient to me from a work point of view. What to do?? After a number of phone calls and emails we came up with the solution - Manchester on Saturday 25th January. Not too bad a drive from either Nottingham or Newcastle, only downside was that as Lizzy's husband Chris wanted to come along as well, he's a pharmacist who works on Saturdays, they couldn't set out until after 6pm. Anyway, tickets were booked, a hotel was found (with some difficulty - we ended up with the last two rooms at the Manchester Thistle) and we were off again. I would point out at this juncture that my husband Keith is not a Love fan, more of your Dylan type, but he has no objection to me going off gallivanting.

I set off driving from Nottingham and arrived at the hotel later afternoon, time for a swim and a sauna in the hotel leisure club. I was in the sauna when I heard a couple of female voices in the changing rooms discussing going to the Love show that evening - later discovered that this was Jane from the Isle of Man and her daughter who Lizzy already knew. Got myself ready, went down to the hotel bar for a snack and a lager or three and waited for the Newcastle contingent to arrive - which they duly did at about 8.30pm.

Lizzy and Chris swiftly unpacked and we piled into a taxi to the Academy, which is on the Oxford Road near the main part of Manchester University. Our tickets were on the door, we were in - the support act had just finished so we grabbed a few more beers then made our way down to the front. Now this wasn't one of your arty-farty sitting down venues like the RFH, this was more in the style of Nottingham's Rock City, a big barn of a place, sticky floor, unpleasant bouncers, the works. It took me back I can tell you to a simpler place and time - here I was at age 49 in a venue the likes of which I hadn't stepped inside for at least 20 years - since about the time that parenthood had ensued in fact - and I was loving every minute of it!! The aforementioned Scottish Keith was in attendance, as well as some folks that Lizzy knew from her work. There was also a chap with a big stick dancing down the front who may or not have been Bez, erstwhile Happy Monday's mad dancer and subsequently an unlikely Celebrity Big Brother winner - whatever, Bez was certainly around.

The show? - well, it was amazing, I was completely knocked out. The RFH had been a very emotional experience but this was just raw energy from beginning to end. Arthur's voice was unbelievable, the band were giving it all they had, and we had the young Swedish strings and horns section (whose subsequent claim to fame was playing on the Smile tour/album) playing on the Forever Changes tracks just to top it off. I couldn't believe a gig could be this good, I was overwhelmed - which might have been something to do with the numerous lagers that I had consumed by that stage.

Anyway, the end arrives, after a rousing encore of 7and7is, we meet up with SK again and its off for some more beers. Now, by some means unbeknown to me at this stage, it seems that Keith is a pal of Mike Randle, the lead guitarist, so it is arranged that we and sundry others will meet up with Mike and his bandmates at a neighbouring hostelry, Big Hands. We headed off there, paid our admission charge, and we were in. No sign of Mike or any other of the band at this stage but there were plenty of other folks all set to have a good time. After an hour or so, the door opened and there they were - the band members (sans Arthur) and a smattering of Swedes. Now, one thing I can't be accused of is lack of self-confidence and very soon I was chatting away to Californian band members and Swedish horn players as if I'd known them for years - Lizzy was slightly gobsmacked ("you're talking to the band!!") but with a modicum of encouragement she got into it as well. I took a particular shine to Bjorn, the 28 year old trombone player from Stockholm with a fin hairstyle, but alas (or perhaps fortunately) it was not to be!! I must admit I was slightly the worse for drink before the end of the evening, but hey ho, I was reliving my lost youth here. Fortunately Lizzy and Chris were on hand to get us all in a taxi and back to the Thistle at the end of a fantastic night.