Club Reviews
Famous Monday Blues @ The Bully, Cowley Road, Oxford
Aphra behn once wrote that 'Variety is the soul of pleasure...' (The Rover, Part II, Act I, 1681), and so have I heeded these words with regards to the column.
How, you say, have I found relevance in the scribblings of a 17th Century playwright? Well, it wasn't in the way Behn might apply her words to her own colourful life - the 'variety' she speaks of is most likely her bisexuality.
In my case, I was already all too aware that indie-electro and house nights have dominated my weekends, and therefore I decided to diversify.
A quick Internet session reminded me that Oxford has got plenty to offer outside a 500m radius of George Street - if indeed George Street was the centre of an imaginary circle, one that exists almost exclusively in my head!
What better way to kick-start this all new celebration of the alternative clubbing scene in Oxfordshire, than with the Famous Monday Blues?
The Famous Monday Blues has always been directly under my nose, but I've never gone before. It's practically an Oxford institution; established in 1984, and going stronger than ever.
The venue has changed a number of times, and the night has most recently settled down at the Bullingdon in Cowley Road. Philip Guy-Davis has been the tireless promoter all these years, and it was a pleasure to meet him - not least for his aesthetically confusing appearance!
I mean this in jest - he was just one of the many unique characters present that made the night so memorable. The act on stage was an enormous fellow by the name of Memo Gonzales, with his band the Bluescasters. Described as "300 pounds of Texas Dynamite", and they had an explosive stage presence.
The focus is on getting people to dance, and the age range is so vast - from late teens right up to septuagenarians. It was fantastic to see everybody come together in one room regardless of age and background.
You could almost visualise the crowd's inhibitions evaporate as the night went on.
That might have been from alcohol or the infectious hooks of the blues - but who cares?
Towards the end of their first set, Memo Gonzales discarded his mouth organ microphone and instead played his harmonica at incredibly high pitches and volume directly into his mic - it was like he was trying to housetrain a dog.
As the delicate cells in my cochlea began slowly to fade and die, I thought to myself ...if the ringing in my ears has stopped in the morning, this night is getting a good review ...
It thankfully stopped just after lunch, and although I will never be able to hear such high frequencies again I've got to say it was a hugely enjoyable night!
3:46pm Thursday 8th May 2008
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