One inky November night, Nigel, Neil, Carl and Carl take to the stage of an abandoned Yorkshire movie theater under the strains of Neil Young’s My My, Hey Hey (Out of the Blue). Relaxed in a chair with tiredness from Kovid, my nerves were already trembling from the cries of driving on the road, I burst into tears. I can hardly believe that this group exists.
The return of Half Man Half Biscuit, the four boys who rocked Wirral with inflated indie rock, was hailed by those gathered at Holmfirth Picturedrome. Starting with a song about bats, followed by one about loss, they neatly summarize the changes in the mood of the world over the past 20 months – and Biscuitmania erupts. It took me six hours to get here by car and it’s worth every minute.
People get dressed. One man is King of Hi-Vis, a song they’ve only played five times – and he’s been with them all
Someone who has traveled even further is the vocalist John Ross, who came down from Scotland with a group of friends, including one, Francis, who is unfortunately no longer from this earthly kingdom, and whose ashes are decorated in cellophane under John’s sock. so that the killer would not ask the fine white powder. A chance meeting before the concert with vocalist Nigel Blackwell pays tribute to their deceased friend, a fan of the band since 1987.
John picks up the story: “I walked over to him and said, ‘Sorry, Nigel, this is going to sound weird,’ and he said, ‘He’s already doing it with that accent, buddy.'” I explained the situation, and he was brilliant. He spent about five minutes talking to me about Francis.
“A fan was holding a potted plant”… super fan and writer Steve Hill. Photo: John Robertson / Guardian
In the middle of the concert, Nigel took the package out of his top pocket and sprinkled the stage with ashes, as requested, before dedicating Look Dad No Tunes to the departing fan. “I was absolutely thrilled,” says John. “I was expecting to scatter his ashes on a beer-soaked floor. It was amazing to get Nigel to say wonderful things about him, to joke, and to treat Francis’s ashes with the same care and respect that he would say to someone he knows well. I did not expect praise. That was much more than I had hoped for. “
This emotional release is an example of how Half Man Half Biscuit – also known as Nigel Blackwell, Neil Crosley, Carl Henry and Carl Benson – created one of the most passionate fan communities of any British band. Apart from the occasional rotation of BBC Radio 6 Music, they largely exist under the radar, which they like. Born of Thatcher’s all-encompassing culture of free stuff, their 1985 debut album Back in the DHSS was recorded for around £ 40. A lo-fi piece of surrealism in the kitchen and sink, included songs for Subbuteo (All I Want for Christmas Is a Dukla Prague Away Kit) and Everyday Life. Shy of publicity even then, they refused to appear on Channel 4’s The Tube because they faced a Tranmere Rovers match, even turned down a helicopter offer because it would take them to Prenton Park only at halftime.
With their rising star backed by John Peel and Dickie Davies Eyes leading the indie singles chart, Nigel sensationally split the band in 1986 to the horror of growing fans. However, after almost four years of silence, the band was reserved for the Reading Festival in 1990. With straight faces in shorts, they embarked on a tumultuous set of old and new songs, with a fan dangerously waving a potted plant everywhere.
Admirer … Chris Rand, creator of the Lyrics project, in his Joy Division oven gloves. Photo: John Robertson / Guardian
Since then, they have played a handful of concerts every year and I have seen them many times, until the first block. In the depths of quarantine, I forged a plan to make up for lost time, never missing a single Half Man concert. That would be a gift for me after the block: to have fun all the time. The downside is that I live in London, and they rarely stray south, adhering to the time-tested mantra of “own bed, own swamp.” The advantage is that these are the best two hours of the month, grinning through an exciting rock show, dotted with indifferent humor from the enigmatic Nigel.
He rarely gives interviews, does not want the band to be photographed and still suffers from nerves before the concert. He is more relaxed riding a bike around Wirral or enjoying tea and toast in front of the nostalgia channel Talking Pictures TV. As far away from the music industry as possible for a musician, this is an approach that has led to 15 wildly entertaining albums so far, all standing out in the public eye through absurdist lenses in songs like Rock and Roll Is Full of Bad Wools ( on independent landfill groups in Soccer AM), Bottleneck in Capel Curig (on A-road congestion) and the self-explanatory Knobheads in Quiz Shows.
While the early concerts were mostly attended by football fans, it is now a large church with a cosplay element. It’s my own fault that I’m wearing a personalized Dukla Prague guest set, which allowed me to mingle with a band of HMHB ultras at a Nottingham pub before their recent concert in Rock City. The most visible supporter of this trend is retired Lincolnshire GP John Berscoe, who accidentally rediscovered the band at the 2008 Cornbury Music Festival.
“I thought, ‘Damn, why didn’t I do that?'” He says. “I bought CSI: Ambleside from the murch table, listened to it all the way home and fell in love. I went to see them in Sheffield and thought, “People get dressed for this. That’s great, I like that. This is a gang, I can be their king.
Sixty gigs later, John routinely came in as the protagonist of King of Hi-Vis, a song that had once been played live only five times – and he was next to them all. I spotted him at concerts, but never realized that under his fluorescent tabard was a real touring jacket with loose sleeves, the name of a song with a spoken word that was never performed. It complements the combination with a pair of Joy Division Oven Gloves, a kitchen accessory inspired by the HMHB song of the same name. Hours of its 132nd broadcast remain during our conversation.
“I’m trying to raise my children”… Shane McKay and son Jonas at a concert in Nottingham. Photo: John Robertson / Guardian
This and other statistics can be found on the website of The Half Man Half Biscuit Lyrics Project, with subtitles “220 pop songs chosen by pedants”, a resource managed by Chris Rand of Cambridge, who is also present in the pub, included Dukla Prague, combining the concert in Nottingham between Genesis at O2 and Ipswich Town, playing at home, probably in a Venn chart from one.
“We always get a lot of site visitors when there’s a new album,” says Chris from Half Man’s latest LP, The Voltarol Years. “But this was like nothing else – three or four times the traffic we’ve ever had. Exceptional. ” Much of the discussion has to do with the heartbreaking penultimate song, Slipping the Escort, where Nigel pulls his tongue out of his cheek to devastatingly affect a song about an elderly couple facing dementia.
While some fans enjoy the band’s outsider status (although they regularly fill middle halls and their last two albums have reached the UK’s Top 40), others are outraged that Nigel doesn’t have a larger audience. Fan Stephen Blackmore says: “I’m afraid that when they finally pack it, no one will know who they are. Someone has to make a documentary. There must be a lasting legacy. “John has more prosaic fears:” My only concern is that he will be knocked down by his motorcycle on a country alley. “
Statistically, some of these fans may have killed people – but they never seem to miss this country when we play singer Nigel
Ever since I became a full-time follower, I have noticed a distinct aspect between generations, with parents indoctrinating their offspring. Jonas McKay, 17, went to a Rock City concert with his father, Shane, who spent the blockade collecting the entire back catalog and bombing his family with it. “I honestly think it’s something worth spreading the word about and trying to raise my children,” Shane said. Do they know how much people love and appreciate them?
They make. Between toasting and cycling, Nigel emails me as follows: “The group is more than grateful that people come to see us and especially those who go further. Although statistically some of these people may have killed or performed some dark arts, they never seem to take that person out in the evening when we play, so everything is fine from our corner. Hats off to them. ”
The Voltarol years are out now, with a vinyl release released in July. Half Man Half Biscuit plays at the Gala Theater, Durham, on April 29th.
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