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And then he walked along the edge of the Circle
This is the place where we will post your stories about the Green's Playhouse, The Glasgow Apollo and Satelitte City (The Wee Apollo). As it develops we will break the stories up into sections such as Myths, Gigs I missed, Meeting the Bands, Where are they now etc. No story too trivial and we will only edit out bad language!
New Forum structure on Apollomemories soon.
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| Whilst this was to be my third ever concert (I'd already seen Yes at the Kelvin Hall
and been to the Grangemouth Festival - Beck, Bogart and Appice were the headliners
and Status Quo, Lindisfarne, Steeleye Span and Billy Connolly were also on the bill,
in the September of that year), it was my first ever at the Green's Playhouse.
We went into the stalls in row Q (still got the ticket) and the first thing that
struck me about the place was it's sheer size - it was absolutely huge inside and you
didn't really get a true sense of that from outside. I was then hit by it's
even then dilapitated grandeur.
It was all a little overwhelming for a a
rather naive 16 year old. I'm sure this really wasn't the case, and I guess
there must have been some women in there, but everyone else seemed to be male, have
really long hair and be wearing either the regulation combat jacket and/or Levi denim
jacket.
I can't recall the support act at all, but I do remember it seeming
to take an absolute eternity between him leaving the stage and King Crimson coming
on. In between times, the good natured audience kept themselves amused by
periodically shouting out the name "Wally" at the top of their voices and
apparently to nobody in particular. To this day, I still don't know what that
was all about. All the while an army of similarly long-haired roadies to-ed and
fro-ed off and onto the stage in complete darkness, occasionally bellowing out the
proverbial "one two, one two" into the crackling PA system, which was
playing on what seemed to be permanent repeat, what I now know to be "The
Heavenly Musical Corporation" from Fripp and Eno's then yet to be released album
"No Pussyfooting".
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| Eventually, the band emerged from the shadows and the familiar bell-tinkling
introduction to "Lark's Tongues Part I" could be heard. I was
transfixed. The rest of the show passed me by in a bit of a blur, though I do
recall Jamie Muir, the band's percussionist/drummer roaming the stage in what
appeared to be a bear-skin, relentlessly banging the stage with some chains and I
still can see in my mind's eye Robert Fripp, who until then had been perched on a
stool at the side of the stage and had not said a word, walking to the centre of the
stage before the last number and saying something along the lines of "The songs
you have heard in chronological order have been....", before returning from
whence he had came and tearing into "Lark's Tongues Part II".
I'm
sure that they encored with "21st Century Schizoid Man", but I'm equally
sure that we had to leave before the end and bomb down Renfield Street to catch the
last train back home to East Kilbride.
In the intervening 32 years I've seen
and heard much better gigs, but nothing will ever compare to the impact that that
first show in Green's Playhouse had upon me
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