Babyshambles guitarist joins dad?

Dad did the clan proud with arguably his best gig on Saturday night, his 32nd year at the Glasgow Pavillion theatre.

"Steak and Kidney" - as he's known north of the border - played to houses Thursday through Saturday packed mainly with old fans but there were some news ones too. There were swathes of the (mainly) over forties (and even a 90-year old lady!) that have grown up with my dad since he started performing at 13 years old. It may have been an older audience than a Kings of Leon gig, but age never stopped me from flirting. Of course I'm sworn to secrecy on this front.

But there was also young totty too. My nephew, Ryan, and I were chatted up in the bar before the show by a young gaggle of gallus Glasgow gals who spotted the family resemblance. Of course, I'm engaged so I couldn't participate in la chasse. However I did help my nephew out with some killer chat up lines, including this little beauty: "Would you like a stalker, gorgeous?"


My gig pics are here at my Phanfare album, and their my finest to date. They're my only ones to date and that is one of the key reasons for their triumph over my previous efforts.

As for the gig itself, this is my first gig review so I imagine it will be excellent. At least in comparison to my previous efforts, that is. However, as I've just used the same gag twice in quick succession, I don't hold out much hope for the bugger. But here goes - I advise you to prceed at extreme caution.

I've got to start with the lighting. It was good. At this point i have to say that I'm not sure this review is going well, but I'd better press on or it'll take all day. The multi-coloured star cloth and nebulae-coloured lights and floating galaxy dust (which may have been stage smoke) reminded me of Juan Atkins' last Model 500 - Deep Space album artwork - the Detroit spacey techno crowd would have loved it.

Any review should mention the band - and I'm not one for rebellion; at this point, I need all the guidance I can get. According to showbiz jargon, Legend - as the band is called - was 'tight'. I won't bore you with individual performances but it is worth mentioning the somewhat cadaverous guitarist, Frankie. Looking like he should have been on stage with Babyshambles, it seemed the only thing keeping Frankie alive on stage were regular shocks from a frayed amp lead.

Altogether more wholesome was the surprise addition of the 50-strong Glasgow Phoenix Choir. Arriving on stage at the end, they really beefed up the sound and ramped up the atmosphere. Their support for the rousing, if not parochial, 'Scotland Forever' finalé had the hairs standing up on my neck, and even on the chin of the old dear in front of me. I couldn't stop making Herr Lipp gags about a giant "Queer" on stage but no-one seemed to laugh.

Of course the show isn't necessarily my kind of music or my scene - far from it, in fact. But that's the thing - it's a family thing. I'd even go and watch my nephews in their various school plays - if they weren't such talentless wretches. But I joke - and the truth is that the old man certainly knows how to entertain. I was absolutely riveted by the show .and dad's voice was better than ever, fragile with emotion at times which reminded me a bit Johnny Cash on the stunning 'Hurt'. Where as my voice sounds like the wails of a dog that's just been cornered by a gang of starving north Koreans. Or even a gang of drunken Scots that can't be bothered to find the nearest dep fried Mars bar.

Anyway, this whole review seems to have gone right off the rails, so perhaps I'll just rush straight on to the plugs. What kind of PR would I be if I didn't slap some plugs onto this little post? So, 1-2 loyal readers, if you're looking for a gift for that special someone this Xmas, forget about whizzy gadgets, forget about Tiffany jewellry, forget about cool clothes; instead, why not plum for some of the following great gifts - a percentage of every one sold goes into my old man's pocket, whencefrom I can attempt to pinch it, and in return buy you a free drink. And - hence - the karmic circle is complete. Anyway, you can choose from an autobiography, or one of two new albums, and a DVD (I think). Each CD sale will help add to his 15 million album sales. What do you mean 'iTunes'? What is an 'iTunes'?

If however, you agree with this venomous bunch's view that big Syd is actually Scotland's worst singer, you many want to buy one of his products anyway - for your enemy. Ah, ever the salesmen, eh? Perhaps it's better if I simply give this whole freakish jig up and get the hell away from this whole way-led, cock-eyed post fast, like some crazed, febrile, naked, dribbling yahoo. Either that, or just take Snagglepuss' advice and exit, stage left.

SANTA CLAWS

Ayr, west coast of Scotland, Saturday night. A giant claw knocks on the front door. It belongs to a fresh lobster that my dad's mate, Dredger, caught that day. Dredger's an ordinary fisherman but catches some of the world's best shellfish you can find - so good it finds its way into restaurants in London, Paris and Barcelona - and even Manhattan. And he's brought round a freshly snared lobster. He's the Santa of the sea.

But what to do? I've never cooked one of these monsters before. I've got recipe books - like one of Gordon Ramsay 's - but they all seem to be super-fancy recipes. Whereas I want it as simple as possible - why spoil something so fresh and tasty with other flavours?

So I just do the simple thing: boil it in court buillon and serve it with a simple garlic mayo dip and home made oven chips made from Ayrshire potatoes. Wash it down with a local ale. Simple. Superb. And totally local. Everything consumed came from within 10 miles. No-one else in the family wanted to share the spoils, though - my poor sister even screamed when she saw the lobster in the kitchen sink. I don't blame them for not wanting to eat such amazing food but sadly this is the attitude of many Scots. And thats why, even with one of the world's best natural larders - the finest shell fish, salmon, osyters, mussels, venison, beef, lamb, gorgeous vegetables, beautiful fruit - the country has one of the worst diets in the 'first' world. A diet which has helped earn the west coast of Scotland the unenviable reputation as the world's heart attack capital. The country fails to embrace its best assets.


Worse, despite many Scots failing to really embrace their country's amazing edible assets, many natural food resources are on the brink of disaster. Dredger told me the Ayrshire's fishing fleet stands at a mere 19 boats, almost all sailing from Troon. The Ayr port has long since shut down and nearby Girvan is waning. The fish stocks in the area are all but gone - fished out. Indeed, the prawn industry is keeping what's left of the local fishing industry afloat. But with a decimated eco-system, how long before these prized catches go the way of North Atlantic and North Sea cod stocks?

My strategic solution is this, for what it's worth:

• A national campaign spear-headed by HEBS (Health Education Board Scotland) to change the country's eating culture - link with key media partners - promote Scottish food, local, natural food - campaign for healthy eating in the school, the workplace and the home
  
• Curb fishing in areas where stocks are at perilously low levels - create and manage protected marine and animal parks that have proived so successful around the world, such as Australia, Sardinia or closer to home in Northern Ireland
• Promote leisure and tourism in marine and animal parks - e.g. seal and whale watching trips and sports activities like Sailing and diving - the climate may seem at certain times of the year an anoyance, but not totally prohbitive
  

Basically, uh, whatever it takes to help ensure a steady stream of fresh lobster to my plate for years to come.