A Evening with Chesney Hawks
High hopes and aspirations, ideas above my station
maybe but all this time I've tried to walk with dignity and pride
It's getting late in the day the Simpsons has just finished on television and I'm just settling into a nice game of F.E.A.R. (which quiet frankly does give me the fear) on the computer when my phone beeps with a message:
Humm the Hawk..... Yeah why not should be good for a laugh. What times it now? 7.20? I give the 6 Fingered Men a call but it's to late notice for them, panzees. So a quick jump in the shower and a grab of some cloths then a jog down to the train station and I'm off to meet Steve and co at the City Vaults. Several Kronenbergs later we go upto the Market Tavern to aquire tickets to see Chesney but are told they don't have any, so Jez and I buy some tickets for Napalm Death instead.
On the way into Rio it's but a mere £6, the bouncer informs us that it was £10 but nobody was coming in so they dropped the price. Upon entering it does look a little sparse of life, a liberal count of people in gives us a number of around seventy people. Oh well best get started on the beers. Several hours and beers later and my berating of the DJs lack of decent music is interupted by, literally ten, screaming girls running towards the stage. The Hawk is in.
To be honest I don't know what I was expecting, however I couldn't help but feel a little disapointed when we ended up with a, admitadly capable, cover band. From my position, just in front of stage right, I had a great view of the stage and was but a mere meter from the Hawk himself and evenless then that from the bass player, who later revealed to me that he's usual gig is with Skin of Skunk Anansie fame. Chesney did seem to have some sort of sixth sense and managed to make sure that anybody in the crowd trying to get a picture of him failed as he turned away as they were taking the picture, he did this to often for it to just be coincidence, which makes you wonder why the hell he doesn't want to be photographed? Surely someone who was slipping from fame like he is would want people to take pictures of him and remember him? But then what do I know.
Finally it's the big finish, "I am the one and only". It still rocks in all it's Cheesy Hawks stylishness. Just as the band are exiting the stage the bass player bends down hands me the set list and tells me to meet him at the bar for a post gig drink shakes my hand and leaves. After they've done their encore of I Predict a Riot I make my way to the bar and am shortly joined by the bass player and the rest of the band, but not Chesny.
A few drinks with the guys later and I've dropped in the rather ugly subject of how much money they make as the place isn't really packed. The guitarist after surprisingly little cajoling tells me that the band memebers make £150 each and they don't know how much the collective Chesney Hawks show makes as Chez looks after that side of things but they think it's a bit more then a grand a show. Chesney joins us shortly after and we get talking he seems like a nice enough chap, he's a very happy energetic type of guy you can tell he definatly hails from the early 90's and he instantly puts me in mind of Pat Sharp. unfortunatly lots of beer has been drunk by all of us now and the rest of the night is a blur up until I stagger in home at 3.30 in the morning clutching a signed set list.
High hopes and aspirations, ideas above my station
maybe but all this time I've tried to walk with dignity and pride
It's getting late in the day the Simpsons has just finished on television and I'm just settling into a nice game of F.E.A.R. (which quiet frankly does give me the fear) on the computer when my phone beeps with a message:
------Steve--------
Coming to see Chesney Hawks?
Starts at 9. At rio's..
Humm the Hawk..... Yeah why not should be good for a laugh. What times it now? 7.20? I give the 6 Fingered Men a call but it's to late notice for them, panzees. So a quick jump in the shower and a grab of some cloths then a jog down to the train station and I'm off to meet Steve and co at the City Vaults. Several Kronenbergs later we go upto the Market Tavern to aquire tickets to see Chesney but are told they don't have any, so Jez and I buy some tickets for Napalm Death instead.
On the way into Rio it's but a mere £6, the bouncer informs us that it was £10 but nobody was coming in so they dropped the price. Upon entering it does look a little sparse of life, a liberal count of people in gives us a number of around seventy people. Oh well best get started on the beers. Several hours and beers later and my berating of the DJs lack of decent music is interupted by, literally ten, screaming girls running towards the stage. The Hawk is in.
To be honest I don't know what I was expecting, however I couldn't help but feel a little disapointed when we ended up with a, admitadly capable, cover band. From my position, just in front of stage right, I had a great view of the stage and was but a mere meter from the Hawk himself and evenless then that from the bass player, who later revealed to me that he's usual gig is with Skin of Skunk Anansie fame. Chesney did seem to have some sort of sixth sense and managed to make sure that anybody in the crowd trying to get a picture of him failed as he turned away as they were taking the picture, he did this to often for it to just be coincidence, which makes you wonder why the hell he doesn't want to be photographed? Surely someone who was slipping from fame like he is would want people to take pictures of him and remember him? But then what do I know.
Finally it's the big finish, "I am the one and only". It still rocks in all it's Cheesy Hawks stylishness. Just as the band are exiting the stage the bass player bends down hands me the set list and tells me to meet him at the bar for a post gig drink shakes my hand and leaves. After they've done their encore of I Predict a Riot I make my way to the bar and am shortly joined by the bass player and the rest of the band, but not Chesny.
A few drinks with the guys later and I've dropped in the rather ugly subject of how much money they make as the place isn't really packed. The guitarist after surprisingly little cajoling tells me that the band memebers make £150 each and they don't know how much the collective Chesney Hawks show makes as Chez looks after that side of things but they think it's a bit more then a grand a show. Chesney joins us shortly after and we get talking he seems like a nice enough chap, he's a very happy energetic type of guy you can tell he definatly hails from the early 90's and he instantly puts me in mind of Pat Sharp. unfortunatly lots of beer has been drunk by all of us now and the rest of the night is a blur up until I stagger in home at 3.30 in the morning clutching a signed set list.
