God bless Liverpool ….. August 2008

Liverpool – a city of colours and sounds that all blend into a landscape of harmony throughout the annual Beatles festival. Unless you happen to be a bouncer in some obscure wine bar in Penny Lane that is. Me good self and Bob, the best McCartney soundalike ever, arrived for the annual jamboree and we heard that some poor bloke had been gunned down the night before in the very bar we were due to play our first gig. The bar was now a crime scene and understandably the local Bobbies were reluctant to allow any kind of beat combo entertainment within said premises while CSI Merseyside were on the case. My immediate reaction was “F***ing hell … oh well, at least that’s only 3 gigs today instead of 4”. Bob’s immediate reaction was “F***ing hell, good job I’m not a Lennon tribute, innit?”. With all due respect to the fella and his family, it just cracked me up. We’d only been there 5 minutes …

We had another gig lined up also in Penny Lane somewhere but were informed 10 minutes later that the gig was also pulled as the owner was in Barbados and knew nothing about it. Ok – down to 2 gigs instead of 4 that day; bit of a relief actually. We had rehearsed over 35 songs for this years event on top of the other dozen or so we know backwards, and anyone who’s ever witnessed a Bob & Marcus gig will know it’s sometimes difficult to know which way we are actually playing them anyway. So we did the only decent thing we could think of and headed for the bar.

Eventually we decided we should wander off down to the Cavern pub for our first gig (7pm), and bumped into Ray Johnson on the way out. Ray is one of the directors/organisers of Cavern City Tours. I told him about the gigs pulled in Penny Lane, and that we were just heading off to the Cavern Pub. “The Pub? Err, it’s flooded … ” he dryly (sic) informed us. If you don’t know Ray, you would have trouble distinguishing fact from fiction. So we gave a cheery two- fingered wave and headed off. It means “I love you” in Liverpool – honest. Try it next time you’re there.

The Cavern was a decent enough gig for the first one; they’re always the worst – takes a while to get used to the sounds and settle into a routine but we got through it OK. You can rehearse at home with a guitar on your knee singing along to the tracks as much as you like to perfection but actually getting out there stood up in front of a crowd is always a strange transition. It’s a bit like driving in a video game – its not until you actually get on the road that you realise “game over” is a more of a literal statement than a simple invitation to try again.

We had set the tone – even though we had prepared some intricate and obscure McCartney songs into the general set list, places like this weren’t really the stage to try them out; people just wanted to sing along. So we abandoned pretty much all the stuff like “Warm and Beautiful”, “Wet and Interesting” and “Blue and Gasping” (Japanese import) in favour of “We Can Work It Out” which struck me as ironic at the time as I realised half-way through that I hadn’t actually worked it out for some time, and completely f***ed up the first middle 8 harmony.

Oh well – one down, one to go. The next one wasn’t until 1.30 in the morning at the Adelphi hotel. We had a few spare hours so we did the only decent thing we could think of and headed for the bar.

Pretty much the rest of the weekend was along similar lines with the one exception. Our good friend Rocco had turned up to watch us with his lady Sue. Anyone who’s ever met Rocco will tell you he’s an ‘interesting’ chap who loves to relay to all and sundry his encounters with the jet set and the famous. Rocco likes to think of himself as an entrepreneur, showbiz agent and consultant to the stars. In reality he’s a lovely fella but more influenced by style than substance which detracts from the realities of good business. One thing you can say about Rocco though is he never gives up. Sue is a great singer and a wonderful personality, and it baffled me why the two of them were together at all, as you do. Anyway, we were having a drink in a city bar and all four of us set off back up the hill to meet other friends for dinner. A few minutes later I turned around as the constant hum of Rocco had suddenly dried up (‘I met the prime minister you know and we’re like good friends now and he only got the job because I know Simon Cowell and if you need tickets Marcus I can get you tickets not a problem you just leave it with me …’ etc etc). Sue told us he left his keys in the bar and had turned back to get them. We waited a few more minutes but no sign.

Sue’s phone went off. “Hello,” she says, “have you found them?”

Pause

“So what are you going to do Rocco?”

Pause

“OK. We’ll have a …. hang on, have you got your phone?”

Suddenly, it all became clear how these two were attracted to each other. Bob and I were creased up.

God bless Liverpool.