Wolfsbane/Gangland - Beechgrove Social Club - July 1988 (The True Story)

I was so wound up that Sunday morning. It was nothing to do with the fact that all my close mates were in a band called Gangland and they were backing up Wolfsbane that night. No, it was because my workmate at the time had lent me a film for us all to watch called 'Horse Fuckers'.

I rounded the boys up (who I can't name for certain reasons) and we started to watch the film at a secret location, in Abertillery, near my house. There were five of us. It was a lovely little film about a German woman who was about to be fucked by a horse in a stable. The quality of the tape was very poor and all we could hear was neighing and a woman shouting "shista, shista" and that was about it. So that really messed our Sunday morning up. We headed for the Mitre looking for horses on the way. My mate wanted to start a round but I didn't want to coz they were all drinking lager and I was drinking Allbright with a splash which cost less. So I went on my own and had a good gargle for two hours then the dreaded bell rang and we all had to leave.

I stumbled home on that sunny Sunday afternoon and was starving and decided to have myself a cheese toastie. Forget about Morbid Angel, Slayer, Suicidal Tendencies, Venom and Testament, if you don't like cheese toasties you are not a true thrasher and that's a fact.

Anyway, I went into the kitchen and cut a few slices of cheese and put them in between the bread and put it in the toastie maker. I started to push down and I thought to myself, "Fuck me, this cheese is very hard." I pushed and pushed until I heard a clicking noise and then I turned the toastie maker on. I went upstairs for a piss, washed my hands and headed back to the kitchen.  Then, all of a sudden, BANG - the kitchen was a big blue flash. I fucking shit myself. I went down on the floor and went under the kitchen table. Two minutes later I slowly crept from under the table and crawled towards my toastie maker to see if it was done. When I looked it was upside down, its four little legs stood up in the air like a dead horse. I then took a closer look and noticed that I had shut the kettle lead in the toastie maker before I turned it on. I was gutted. My toastie was ruined....and so was the kettle. I tried to make another toastie under the grill but it just wasn't the same so I went hungry.

The night had come. Me, Twin, Boolie, Sutton, Plug etc, had Morgan The Moon's minibus pick us up at 6pm to take us to Beechgrove Social Club. When the bus finally started we set off for the club, drinking cans on the way. We arrived and started to get Newcastle Brown Ale down our necks. A girl approached me. She was built like a brick shithouse. She asked me for a snog and I said. "No thanks, I have a girlfriend."  In the back of my mind I pictured myself shagging her and thought it must be like a spider on an orange. Anyway, she wandered off and then her friend, who was very pretty, came over and asked me to give her a kiss. So I did. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, Pork Pie came at her with a left, then a right, followed by a double uppercut. There were fists flying everywhere. That's when I soon realised that I was a Love God. The fight was stopped by two committee men and the ladies were sent on their way.

Half an hour later my boys came on stage, Gangland. We all shouted and cheered as they started to play their first song. We all got up on the stage and started to slam dive back into the audience. Plug was at the front of the crowd and had his hands on the side of his head holding on his glasses as he was headbanging. As he was shaking his head Boolie dived off one of the speakers and landed on top of Plug's head - the lenses shot out of his glasses and onto the stage. I was pissing myself laughing. Plug couldn't see, all he had was the frame with no lenses in it. While the band was still playing Plug started crawling around on all fours looking for his lenses, just like Velma from Scooby-Doo. There was uproar. Five minutes later he finally found them, put them back in, and started to headbang again.

The band was brill. Johnny Hayward's bass playing was such an inspiration to me and encouraged me to play one and start my own NWOBHM (New Wave Of Brynithel Heavy Metal) band, Good Hooker. After they played their set we all went outside for an hour. Stood next to us outside was Blaze Bayley, Wolfsbane (and future Iron Maiden) singer. We all said "Alright?" to him. He said "Yes, fine thanks." We asked him if he would like to join in a spewing competition with us. He wasn't interested. But the game went on....

I went first. I put my fingers down my throat and spewed my bollocks up. It was a good four pinter and I knew it'd take some beating. Next up was Pacca. He didn't do so well. Then came Boolie who made a noise like a dwarf being sucked off by a camel - he was no good either. It was now Plug's go. He put his fingers down his throat and then, WHOOSH, there was gallons of it. I now had serious competition. Blaze Bayley looked on at us with amusement but this was serious - just who was gonna be the winner?

Stay tuned for Part Two of this seminal tale. Find out what Wolfsbane were like and just who did win the spewing competition; me, or did Plug beat me by a carrot?