Ground Control To Monty Don

 

Half Man Half Biscuit played The Ritz on Friday night, a welcome return to Manchester for the group and a welcome, slightly cautious return to gigging post- Covid for me. Taking the stage at 8pm prompt to some rousing intro music they powered through a set of twenty seven songs, spanning their entire history from Fuckin' 'Ell It's Fred Titmus from their 1985 debut Back In The DHSS to at least one song from their imminent thirteenth album The Voltarol Years. The addition of a new guitarist Karl Benson, replacing the long standing Ken Hancock has beefed up the band's sound, twin guitars cranked up loud, Karl riffing and firing off snarly guitar parts. Opening song She's In Broadstairs is taken at pace, Nigel's vocals urgent and upfront. Running Order Squabble Fest follows and from their it's one classic after another- Asparagus Next Left, 27 Yards Of Dental Floss, Restless Legs, a singalong Vatican Broadside, National Shite Day (surely this country's true national anthem) dispensed mid- set such is their confidence, Fix It So She Dreams Of Me (with its refrain about the Gok Wan acolytes), Knobheads On Quiz Shows, a full pelt We Built This Village On A Trad. Arr. Tune, The Light At The End Of The Tunnel with the crowd roaring the breakdown 'No frills/ Handy for the hills// That's the way you spell New Mills', Every Time A Bell Rings, a song with the instruction 'get your hedge cut/ Get your fucking hedge cut', long term fan favourite All I Want For Christmas Is A Dukla Prague Away Kit, the Kendo Nagasaki tribute that is Everything's A.O.R.

On and on they go, finishing the set with The Trumpton Riots. Nigel Blackwell entertains us between songs with customary deadpan asides ('there's an interesting story behind this one...' [no story, they just plough into the song instantly]), audience interaction ('Is there anyone here from Offerton?'), gnomic remarks ('Eddie Howe has never sneezed') and responses to requests ('yeah, that's one of ours'). There's a Half Man Half Biscuit tradition of playing a cover in the encore- they don't disappoint tonight, with a blistering run through Holiday In Cambodia (last time I saw them they did Total Eclipse Of The Heart which was funny and contained the amended line, 'once upon a time I was falling in love/ Now I'm only shifting a fridge', but The Dead Kennedys was better all things being equal). They see us off with a crowd pleasing romp through Joy Division Oven Gloves and everyone, from the middle aged men in Dukla Prague away kits to the teenage daughters they've brought with them, is happy. 

Half Man Half Biscuit are the true survivors of the indie punk scene and should be heralded as the heirs to the throne of leftfield guitar music in the UK. Like The Clash they have a three man frontline shouting and spitting their lines into the their microphones at the front of the stage, an inspirational front man and a guitar hero stage left and a thumping drummer banging away at the back (though admittedly they wear less leather and fewer hats). Like The Fall they have laugh out loud lyrics, head spinning non-sequiturs, lyrics that skewer and dissect the absurdities of life in modern Britain, obscure cultural references, rousing choruses and idiosyncratic song titles. Like Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds they tackle the big topics, not afraid of putting existential questions at the heart of what they do (plus other, smaller questions such as whose bright idea it was to make Bob Wilson an anchorman. Actually, maybe that is an existential question). Like The Smiths they have a huge back catalogue where every album has multiple jewels and hidden gems, and classic songs hidden away on EPs and B-sides (and they don't have a racist lead singer either). Really, there's no one else who does what they do. They really are among the best we have- catch them before they're gone. 

Every Time A Bell Rings

This is the handwritten setlist from the gig (Nigel warns us in Mate Of The Bloke about bands who type out their setlists), not mine I'm afraid, I found the photo in an HMHB online group.