Thank goodness The Hobgoblin is going back to having bands on
a Saturday night.
I don’t do bad reviews of bands – if they aren’t any good you
just don’t hear about it.
The Club Secretary.
But a trip out to Walton on Saturday night took us much
further away; a trip far back in time to an unpleasant world of dingy Working
men’s clubs that have nothing but contempt for working people.
A club that wants to take your money but doesn’t actually
want any visitors.
A club that has no respect for CIU card holders and which
doesn’t advertise that it charges entrance for the joys of its bad beer and
bullying officials.
We left after a few minutes and won’t be back.
The general collapse of these clubs is no accident – there’s
no pleasure in being treated like that and we are better off without them.
When the club officials wonder why there’s no one there they
should consider that half the working population are women and the other half
are young.
Even working men are used to carrying around smart phones and
tablets these days.
It’s another world out there.
By contrast, the range of venues with live music is growing
and as my reviews have shown you can catch some amazing sounds in pleasant
surroundings.
Guess which will survive and which aren’t going to be around
much longer?
So we went down to the river’s edge, talked and ate noodles.
Watching summer slowly ebb away and discussing ‘An American Werewolf
in London’.
A great film but with just one problem; we don’t have any
wolves here so how could anyone have got bitten in the first place?
Just give Walton Working Men’s Club a miss next time you think
about going to see a band there.
Neil Harris
(a don’t stop till you drop production)
No comments:
Post a Comment