[Olympia Dublin 2000-12-10/11].

I arrived in Dublin's fair city all alone (save for a million Christmas shoppers and tourists). "Budget Accommodation" read the sign outside my hostel. They weren't joking! On your first day in a new city it's important to learn your way around - so having met up with George - Donald and Paul we did just that by going on a pub crawl around Temple Bar. Donald's mate Paul looks a dead ringer for naff 70's DJ Tony Blackburn - but it was another 24 hours before I mentioned it to him - by which time I reckoned I knew him well enough that he wouldn't punch my lights out. Luckily - he laughed.

I got up early on Sun morning - partly because today was the day I was going to see The Mighty Undertones again (YES!!!) and partly because the hostel wasn't the kinda place for a leisurely lie-in if you know what I mean. After meeting Cliff and Doina and topping up the alcohol level - we took Cliff's famous banner to the equally famous Olympia Theatre. I rang the bell and John O'Neill answered the door. "Oh hi John - you know Cliff don't you?". "Oh aye - come on in" says John. Surreal. The stage manager John did a fine job rigging the banner up as a backdrop above the drum riser. Despite various cruel jibes and Mickey Bradley comparing it to the Stone Henge fiasco in Spinal Tap - the banner looked the business. Chatting with Mickey - Paul McCloone and Billy Doherty (dtu) it was obvious that they were relaxed but well up for the gig. Who wouldn't be in a venue like that and a sell-out crowd on the way?

Later on - Derek arrived and the entourage headed from the pub back to the theatre. The atmosphere was excited and expectant. By the time the house lights went down - the standing area at the front was packed and a good number of 'youngsters' were in evidence. From the moment the band took the stage and the opening riff from 'Jimmy Jimmy' rang out - the crowd went wild. I have to say the performance was as tight - powerful and vibrant as any I can remember. Even a messed-up intro to 'Get Over You' was a joy to hear as it reminded you of the old punk days when - if a band didn't stop in the middle of a song and start again - you felt cheated!

Paul McCloone is a natural frontman and gave such a confident - assured performance that I now find it difficult to imagine The Undertones without him. As well as stamping his own style on all the early rocking numbers - he tackles the more 'difficult' tunes like 'Julie Ocean' superbly. In response to calls for later material - the band introduced 'Soul Seven' into the set. It's a great ballad which I think Mickey said they've never played live before - and drew a great reaction from the crowd. By the time they played 'Teenage Kicks' - the moshing was really in overdrive. Those of us at the front looked behind us to see that the two-teared balconies were also rocking. EVERYbody in the house was pogoing - even the cloakroom staff! The audience sang along like a football crowd and at times - particularly during 'My Perfect Cousin' we were almost drowning out the band.

All in all - this ranked as one of the best gigs ever. It was going to be difficult to match that the following night - especially as a smaller turnout was expected - most locals preferring to go on a Sun not the Monday.

On Monday afternoon - Cliff blagged us in through the stage door again to see the soundcheck. Billy invited us up to the dressing room for a drink and we spent an hour or so chatting to the boys. We talked about what the future might hold in store for this part-time pop group - but I don't think they really know themselves - so I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

The crowd on Monday night was smaller than on Sun - but still a decent showing of maybe 700-800(?) - which means around 2000 punters over the two shows. Not bad huh? And when The Undertones came on and again launched into 'Jimmy Jimmy' to open the set - it soon became clear they weren't going to hold back one bit. If anything - the sound was clearer and sharper and the playing even tighter than the first show. At first I thought I may get away with a gentler evenings 'dancing'. Wrong. The moshpit quickly filled with Guinnessed-up revellers and by the time our favourite chocolate anthem 'Mars Bars' came along it was Chaos City all round.

Afterwards - a drink in the Olympia bar and more opportunities to encourage various band members that they really should be planning gigs - live albums - etc. for next year. I think they got the message.

The next morning I got up at 5.30 to catch my plane to Bristol and reflect on a great three days: great people - great city and a truly great band.

CityRocker.

City Rocker remembers:-

"Five lads from Derry who shook the world". That's something which, as far as I know, has never been said of The Undertones. Except by me. My world was very definitely and permanently shaken by The Undertones (in a kind of glorious partnership with The Clash, Jam, Bhomcocks, Ramones, etc, etc.).

I realise that few people will be remotely interested in hearing my recollections of five years of watching a band that seldom troubled the Top Twenty ("Hey, Hey, Hey!"). But I don't care, I just had to get these memories off my chest, put pen to paper, (or Word97 to HP DeskJet to be more precise).

But you see that was the odd thing about 'tones fans wasn't it? On the one hand we desperately wanted the band to achieve the recognition they so richly deserved - but in a way, secretly, we were happy to keep them to ourselves. That small, smug, select group of superior kids who were just that little bit more cool and sussed than all the heavy metal freaks and disco girls at the time.

April(ish) '79, we are 14 years old and we thankfully escape the gaze of the scary looking bouncers, we're in the Locarno! Yess! It's only about 8 o'clock and most of the audience is still in the pub. We spot Feargal Sharkey hanging around by the mixing desk and pluck up the courage to chat to him about the band's new single 'Jimmy Jimmy'. Feargal is polite but more interested in talking to the sound engineer. Fair enough. We go back to our plastic glasses of watered down lager and share a Players No. 6. Eventually, support band The Chords take to the stage. They are a pretty cool 'Jam style' mod band, but the mod revival hasn't really kicked in yet and the punk crowd gobs appreciatively through the set.

When the Undertones finally appear, what follows is simultaneously the loudest, scariest and most utterly exhilarating experience of my life up to that point. Every other member of the audience apart from me and my mates is at least eight feet tall, with big spiky hair, chains, safety pins, and they're going f**kin mental!! Feargal is running round the stage warbling, chain smoking. They play 'Get Over You' and he's up on top of the P.A. stack, while Billy pounds his floor tom in the chorus like it's about to leap up and attack him. Now they're doing 'Jimmy Jimmy' and Feargal holds the mike stand out over the crowd during the chorus and we oblige, football chant style. Mostly, my memories of that night are a blur of excitement and adrenaline, but I will never forget it.

A few months later, September '79, the Undertones are back at the same venue. By now we've got a few punk gigs under our belts, a bit more swagger in our step, Doc Martins, bondage trousers and mohair jumpers. Yeah I know, punk was 2 years ago, but we're 14 for f*** sake, give us a break! This gig is more of the same, except even better than last time and they give us a taste of the gut-crunching new single 'You've Got My Number-'.

Easter 1980 and I'm in my room listening to John Peel as usual. Uncle Johnny's got a copy of the soon to be released 'Hypnotised' album and he's gonna share it with us. 'Wizz Kids' is first up and it's a stunning piece of power pop. Can't wait to get this album, we'll be waiting outside Virgin at 9am the day the record hits the shops!

A few weeks later we have bunked off school early and we're down at the Colston Hall in Bristol. Somehow, we've blagged our way in through the stage door and the Undertones are sound-checking with a version of The Clash's 'Garageland'. When they've finished, the band are hanging around in the auditorium and we take the opportunity to introduce ourselves. Mickey Bradley is one of the friendliest, chattiest, most enthusiastic people I've ever met. He chats to us like we're old mates he hasn't seen for ages and he seems genuinely pleased that we want to meet him! John and Dee are also very friendly. Billy seems shy and a little embarrassed by the attention. Feargal on the other hand doesn't really want to know, although he dutifully signs the Hypnotised sleeve I nicked earlier from the front-of-house marketing display. We back off.

Later, following a superb support slot from "the other Derry City Rockers" The Moondogs, the Undertones play a blinding set, mixing new album material with some of the old favourites. I'm at the front and I shout for Garageland, which makes Mickey laugh. Then Feargal hands me his Jaffa orange juice bottle, which I still have somewhere, (in a box along with Paul Weller's Heinekin can!). I may also be the only person in the world to have a gig flyer signed "Michael Bra Bradley" (it was a bit damp and sweaty after the show and he had trouble with the biro).

Many, many Undertones gigs later, its July 1983 and the band have announced they are to split. Sad news for sure, but somehow I know it's the right thing. The last album has flopped and the band are obviously upset that people aren't taking to their new mature pop/soul sound. Anyway, their last ever UK appearance is to be at Crystal Palace's Selhurst Park football ground, supporting--BLOODY PETER GABRIEL!!! Who the hell came up with that bright idea?

Well I get a coachride to London and wander into the stadium-have I inadvertently stumbled through some kind of timewarp?? Inside the ground it appears to be 1968, the pitch is littered with hippies lolling around in post-Woodstock chill-out mode. This is going to be fun methinks. I work my way to the front of the stage, where several hundred likeminded fans are gathered. We ignore the pleas from the bemused hippies behind us to sit down. When the band eventually arrive, the area in front of the stage goes pogo-crazy to even greater confusion from the greasy ones. The occasional bottle comes flying over from behind, but we couldn't care less. Then, all too quickly, it's over. The Undertones have gone. Forever and ever, amen.

Afterwards, I'm hanging around in reflective mood wondering what to do next, (I do NOT intend to watch Peter Gabriel, he's just not my scene maaan). Fortunately, I get chatting to a couple of geezers in Undertones t-shirts who are clearly of the same opinion. We go down the pub.

CityRocker JANUARY 2000.

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TheUndertones.net/undemems.htm