A virtually unmoving queue, four or five across, consisting of students, chequered badges, and pork- pie hats, slumps awkwardly from the entrance of the 950 capacity basement hall, up the stairs, past the bar, and to the end of the corridor.
The X-Certs are most of the way through their lively enough sounding set, and people are beginning to wonder if they will get in. When I finally do catch the last two minutes of this support act, there are still many more behind me.
Backstage, I am greeted with distrustful looks from some. ‘I’m the roadie’s brother’ from another. Finally, a couple of badges and a handshake from Charlie Anderson, the bassist, who seems quite relaxed about coming and chatting, although others twitch and flit about or sit motionless. The Selecter, I am told, are, or at least partly, from Jamaica.
Have they been into ska and pre- reggae for long ? Yes, they grew up with it. No sign of any band waggon jumping here, obviously. The band, it seems, whatever the trend, will always be a dance band.
Slavishly following musical fashion may be lucrative at some point or other, but as soon as the trend is over, bands have to fall back on their real value. I am to understand that The Selecter will last on this value, which sets them (and a few others) apart from most of the rest.
Over confident, cocky perhaps, but it still remains to be seen. I grin and agree smarmily that anyone can stand up and shout ‘This is the time…’ in a tonic suit, but the beat is sloppy, and the band are, yes – so contrived.
At the moment, The Selecter are without a manager, which does not bother them – look what Bernie Rhodes did for the Coventry Specials – nor do they mind that they reaped very little financial reward for their Gangsters B-side.
This is OK by the band – not everyone is shot straight into the public eye with something that will make people say ‘who are they’ ?, ‘where do they come from’ ? and ‘when are they touring’ ? etc. etc. At least that’s how the band see it, and now they’ve had a lot of big recording offers, while still being happy to release ‘On My Radio’ on the 2-Tone label.
Handshakes again, ‘Cheers’, but a little tension as the band makes ready for the gig. I chat to keyboard player Desmond on his way to the Gents, but there’s not really much more to ask. Silly grins, flashes from the camera, and I walk away. Back in the hall there’s no disco, and soon, it’s ‘Ladies and gentlemen, the Selecter…’ who jogged on stage amid some dreadlocks and tremendous applause.
Pauline, the vocalist, demands we enjoy ourselves, and straight into the first tune. Staccato drums, quirky beat, and the gig is immediately a success – most of the hall is up and swaying, screaming applause on the penultimate chord, and being thrust into a punchy, stompy cover of ‘Murder’.
With gleeful dancing, onstage as well as off, the gig bustled on speedily, and even though I heard ‘let’s slow things down a little’ at least once, The Selecter proved themselves right by being competent and danceable. Ska – but with much other influence – jagged, Clash like chords appeared often and momentarily, coupled with intricate dub rhythms, giving a great ‘best of both-worlds’, sometimes even making rock music seem an adolescent pose, and reggae effete and religiously indulgent.
The new single ‘On My Radio’ went down particularly well, as did an excellent cover of the old ska tune ‘Carry Go Bring Home’, and the band deserved the two encores they got, people not even being satisfied with dancing on the stage to ‘007’.
So, fair enough, it’ll be instant popularity and success in the wake of The Specials, and Madness. After all they are playing to a converted audience, but their success won’t be undeserved – being a very tight and competent band. I love the single, which is on my radio as I write this, and I feel like taking back anything snide I’ve said.