Sold out EP launch at The Black Prince? Completed it mate.
A wise man once wrote ‘Stolen flowers bring sickness’ on a card on a cart outside of his shop. He was the grandfather of Alistair Wilkinson -the drummer for the band we now know as FOUNTAIN- and I’d hazard to guess that he had no idea when he wrote it just how iconic that phrase would become.
I never intend to end up naked on stage when I go to a gig but somehow, me being me, these things just keep happening. I can’t remember if it was before or after Hollie doused us in vodka, nearly blinding those of us lucky enough to be front and centre, but at some point, my waistcoat and shirt ended up on the sticky stage and I jumped headfirst into the crowd. It was going to be my crowning glory, you understand, it was going to be momentous! It would be something that I’d live on to tell many a stranger in many a dark town dive bar. I’d tell of how I sailed the crowds adoring hands all the way to the through the door, landing perfectly, sinking a large whiskey then necking off with the beautiful waitress. I’d tell of my epic heroics and probably get inducted into the rock and roll hall of fame based purely on the audacity and bravery of my actions. The Invisible Wasp (straight out of the video) had landed a perfect stage dive, and I was sure that I too, would be a such a legend… Of course that’s not quite how it went down. Instead, I hit the deck like Jack Black in the opening scene of School of Rock. A couple of people nearly got a hand on me, but my diet was off, and my dad bod was slippery when wet, so I ended up battered and bruised on the rock dirt floor of the Black Prince back room. Battered and bruised physically, I mean; despite the epic nature of my actions my ego was somehow completely intact. I stood up firm, raised my arms in the air and let out a huge and hearty ‘Yeah!’. The best laid plans of drunks and morons often get fucked up, but most of the time those fuck ups prove more memorable than they ever would have been if successful.
I had begun my day stressed and exhausted. I was tightly wound and lacking direction/motive. I didn’t feel like going to Northampton. It seemed like a lot of messing around. I already had a list of things to do before getting the train home to Suffolk; but when the band began the show, everything changed. I said So Long to my Invisible Wasp and hello to the future. Who would have ever believed that the future wore a boiler suit and a moustache?
Jordan (the moustache man at the front of the band) was as electric as always, and although he had an empty space next to him on the stage (where once a vagabond stood) he had the beautiful king of sticks and beats behind him, backing him up every bit of the broken way. They never missed a step and the band we once knew as Parliaments had finally been reborn. The red Sun may have set but Death was no longer on the cards for the Giant Ants. Give way the past to the tune of the future, for Fountain have arrived.
The evening was pure chaos. Before the show started the boys roamed the bar greeting their adoring fans. We drank copious amounts of booze as we buzzed with anticipation. We’d all heard the songs, and some of us had seen Ally and Jordan play together before (the last time I remember being the back room of Roadmender many ‘noons’ ago) so we knew -at least we thought we knew- what to expect. Still, with all that said and mused, they exceeded imagination. It was the kind of evening you could only ever write about after the fact, because as a work of fiction people would complain it too farfetched.
By the time they played their second song, five of us were topless and someone had started a mosh pit. Chris (cousin to the drummer and musician too) was attempting naked pull ups on the lighting rig, and I’d lost my orange Ray-Bans somewhere under the excited stomps of the front two rows. The music was loud, and the feedback was shattering. We were high on atmosphere and hooked on the feeling. We became like rabid animals raised just that moment from a New England Cemetery. Blinded by the lights and the rhythm of the night we screamed and laughed, threw ourselves around in reckless abandon and dove headfirst into the limp arms of our drunken peers. It is a rare occasion for the crowd to sweat more than the drummer, but we were so full of life that the moment stole us. Our souls had been kidnapped by the music and we were no longer in our right minds. We were gone. We were lost. We’d taken the second star to the right and kept going till morning.
I am sat now in a countryside cottage, far removed from the insanity of The Black Prince at night. I have Fountains music playing on repeat and I’m waiting patiently for a hearty afternoon meal. I have a glass of Scotch on the go and tomorrow I will be travelling back to Northampton. A very dear friend is picking me up and another is letting me stay the night. I’ve cut my holiday home down by a day so that I can make it in time to play a part in Fountain’s ‘If and When’ music video, which will be filming at the Picture Drome on Sunday. It was an unforgettable experience, to see them live last Friday, and an absolute honour to be invited to be involved in the next stage of their journey. A wise man once wrote that ‘Stolen Flowers Bring Sickness’, but last Friday Stolen Flowers made history, and I’m totally fucking stoked to be along for the ride.
- W.L (05/04/24)
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