WRATHCHILD.

THE PUBLIC HALL,

EVESHAM,

FRIDAY 18TH APRIL,

1986.

What was I thinking the day I went to see Wrathchild? Why the fuck was a thrasher like me going to watch a group of girls sing Gary Glitter songs? Well, your guess is as good as mine.....but this is how the story goes....

Johnny H said to me one day "Listen to this band. They are called Wrathchild." So I listened and thought "What a pile of shit" then my mates Pacca and Coomer got into them so I gave it another go. I still wasn't all that fussed on them but there was a gig coming up so I went to see them.

We were all waiting that early evening on the Foundry Bridge in Abertillery for the mini bus to come. This time we had booked Morgan The Moon's mini bus coz you could do what the fuck you wanted to do on there; shit, piss, spew, show the people in the cars behind your one-eyed womb ferret, etc. We were all tanked up waiting and waiting then a flash of light came over the bridge - it was Morgan The Moon's bus.

We all ran on there fighting for a space and then sat down and off we went to Evesham. From what I can remember, on the bus were me, John, Twin, Twin, Coomer, Fig, Keri and this boy (I think) who was with John. He had blonde backcombed hair and glittery clothes on. He fooled me but I would have shagged him though. We were sitting there breathing in exhaust fumes and fucking around.....and fucking around some more, when John said "Listen here everyone. I have a tape here for the driver to put on." "Who is it?" we asked and John replied "It is 'Speak English Or Die' by S.O.D. (Stormtroopers Of Death)." What a fucking classic and fast album. It was soooooo good, I was in my oils. I creamed my pants. I needed another can, and another, to get me in the mood to watch the almighty Wrathchild.

We finally arrived in Evesham and went straight in this posh pub. I can remember that it was piss-takingly expensive but, what the fuck, I was about to watch a Gary Glitter tribute band so I was happy. I went to the toilet in the pub and someone had sprayed the Wrathchild logo on the toilet wall. Now, I have seen one better than that. I was at Newport Centre one night and in the toilets someone had written "Sepultura" in shit all over the wall. It was like a scene featuring Mr Hankey from South Park. Whoever did that, I would have loved to shake his hand (as long as the dirty cunt washed it first).

Anyway, back to the Gary Glitter tribute........where was I? Oh yes, after coming out of the toilets the boys were laughing coz I had pissed all down my jeans and I am proud to say I still do it now coz I am thrash. We headed off to the gig and got straight in. We went straight to the bar and, fuck me, it was like a scene from the Mos Eisley cantina in Star Wars. There were all fucking sorts in there with poof powder on, lipstick, guyliner, pink nails - it was like being in Thailand for fuck's sake. I was too scared to chat up a girl just in case she had a cock.

After an hour in the bar I was fucking rat arsed, pissed, blotto, smashed, pig fucked, etc and went off to watch the first band. They were called Zeb Dragon and they were shit. The next band were called Mr Toad And The Norty Majorcans - they were very interesting. The singer had shoulder length hair, a beard, and was wearing a blazer. They started to do some songs and I mean, for fuck's sake, why was I at this gig?! What a waste of £3.00. I was in the middle of the crowd and Mr Toad pulled out a ukulele and started to pluck it like a bitch. I was laughing my bollocks off. What a pile of shit. He changed from Mr Toad to George Formby. I was shouting to him "fucking rubbish", "crap", "load of bollocks" and then there was silence. Mr Toad had stopped playing. He pointed his finger at me and said, in front of everyone, "Keep it up and I will punch you a fucker." How dare the Toadster speak to me like that - I am a thrasher, I am bigger than God, I am the Elephant Man. I started to be a bit quieter after the Toadster had threatened to knock me out but it wasn't too long before I started my old tricks again coz the next band on was Wrathchild.

The Toad had just finished his Kirk Hammett solo on his ukulele and gone off stage. I was gutted that they didn't do an encore. Like, for an example, they could have done 'The Frog Chorus' or a Lily Allen song - 'lily', get it? It's what a frog sits on. A frog is a relative of the toad. Never mind. Anyway, away he went and the boys (I think) were on next - the mighty Wrathchild - and I was fucking smashed. After doing a couple of Stephen Hawking impressions, the lights went down, the crowd were cheering, and Wrathchild came onto the stage.

They came on covered in make-up, high heel shoes and spandex and here I was watching them with my ripped jeans, white boots, and a Slayer 'Altar Of Sacrifice' t-shirt on. After a couple of songs, to my disgrace, no one had gotten up on the stage and done a dive - I was mortified. "Why is this crowd so fucking boring" I thought to myself, so I made my way to the front and began to climb up onto the stage. All the lights were on me as I walked across the stage and put my arm around Rocky Shades as they were half way through a song. I shouted something through the microphone and that's when my fun ended. A security guy ran from the one side of the stage and grabbed me, dragged me to the other side of the stage and threw me down some steps where I was met by two more security guys. They grabbed me and I thought I was about to get a good shoe-ing but, to my amazement, they led me back to the crowd and let me go. What a boring gig - no slam diving, no fighting with the security, not even a beer fight. The gig ended and all the girls and lady men started to empty out.

I was fucking starving so I left too and headed towards a burger van. I ordered a massive burger with sauce and started to munch on it. All the sauce went down my t-shirt and tight, ripped Cosmic light blue jeans but I didn't care coz that's the way I am - mad (really need to stop watching The Young Ones). I met up with the rest of the gang and we had a laugh until the bus arrived. On there we went and headed back home to the land of our fathers, the Valleys, the green, green grass of home, the shit hole. After I had a piss on the bus and was told off we finally got dropped off at the Foundry Bridge and I started to walk home with the Twins. I was fucking smashed, walking up the hill towards my house, head down, covered in sauce. I finally got into my house and fell asleep on the bed with all my clothes on. The next day, I woke up and peeled myself off the quilt, coughing, farting, and picking cold onions from my jeans. I went downstairs, had a coffee, ran back upstairs and did my Linda Blair impression in the toilet. Now that's what I call a good night of glam warrior rock 'n' roll.

Zoot's final thought #1 - Don't fuck with the Toad.

Zoot's final thought #2 - No wonder Rocky Shades fucked off to Discharge.

Zoot's final thought #3 - Hang Gary Glitter by his bollocks.

See you next month for my yellow and black Xmas fucking special!!!!!!!