From the Ritz to the Rubble - A night with the Arctic Monkeys
Sheffield Travel Blog› entry 24 of 28 › view all entries
6.30. I'm having my tea with my parents. Mobile goes. It's Marion - "What are you doing ringing me on a Saturday?"
"What are you doing tonight? I've got free tickets to see the Arctic Monkeys at the Leadmill. Do you want to come?"
Do I ever.
Watch Doctor Who: "Daleks in Manhatten". Possibly the best episode ever. Mad dash home to get changed and off to get the bus. Bus takes ages to come. Marion's in the Cremorne with a glass of red wine already lined up. The Monkeys are on at nine for some reason. Seems a bit early.
We’re on the guest list. Courtesy of Adam who's best mates with the band. I'm supposed to be Carl Pickerin. I keep wanting to say Carl Perkins.
Neck the wine and straight off the Leadmill. Still having trouble remembering my 'name'. Doesn't seem that busy outside. This is the biggest band in the country playing a hometown gig in a small venue so where is everyone? Turns out everyone is already inside.
I give a great performance as Carl. We're in. Drinking cider and chatting to Adam and various other of Maz's family. We've got VIP wristbands. Time for another drink before they come on. The concert room is packed to the rafters.
The Monkeys explode onstage. Five seconds in the first glass of beer sails over the crowd. Two minutes in the first crowd-surfer is flying across everyone's head. The band are on fire. This is one hell of a noise.
"From the Ritz to the Rubble". "Mardy Bum". "Brianstorm".
They're piledriving through the numbers. It's chaos in front of the stage. They've got massive light show for such a (relatively) small venue.
"I bet that you look good on the dancefloor". The place goes mental.
Chants of "Yorkshire! Yorkshire! Yorkshire!"
"When the sun goes down". Massive sing-a-long.
I miss the last bit of the encore song cos I'm desperate for the toilet. Buy a tshirt to make up for it. Realise I could probably have got one for free.
We're in the VIP bar for the post show party. No queues at the bar. Wicked. Dancing to Mod and Northern Soul classics. The Jam. Mowtown. We're hanging out with the band. We belt out 'Hey Jude' along with the Beatles. More cider. The aircon in here is weird. If you stand in the right spot it blasts down like you’re in a wind tunnel. So this is what Bonnie Tyler feels like?
Adam gets a round of odd coloured shots which we all down in one. Do an excellent Jackson Five routine to "I want you back". Loving these VIP wristbands.
We're going to the second aftershow party. It's at DQ Bar. Wandering through Sheffield. We have to wait whilst basist Malli nips down an alley for a piss.
Get ushered into DQ. We’re the Arctic Monkeys party.
DQ is rubbish though. Full of wannabe gangsters and drunk townies. Why pick this place? We don’t stay long. It's half past two and we call it a night. The rest of them stay on.
They’re probably still there.
"Like a night out in Sheffield."