š« 19 musical Blades: counting the ticket stubs
Charting the tangential links between the red and white and Sheffield's music heritage.
Words: Sam Parry
On Friday, before that spectacular non-entity against Luton, I clocked this release on Bandcamp: a stainless steel banger. Notable was the track name: FORCE THE ERROR; the artistās name: STILL SHARP; and that crossed-sword emoji on the artwork. This, I thought, smells more strongly of Blade than a 3pm Kop waft.
The possibility of the artistās Sheffield United affiliation carried me down a cerebral street Iāve not traversed in a while: the link between the cityās musical heritage and its footballing associations. It got me thinking. Who are the great musical Blades? And so I posed that question on Twitter.
What I got in return was no paucity of wordplay.
That was what I meant.
Soon, the musical suggestions came as thick as matchday gravy and immeasurably faster. I started to jot down a list. The larger and more diverse it grew, the greater my preoccupation with the list became.
Musical listmakers are not so different from their footballing counterparts. Those who collect gig ticket stubs, I think, are more likely to be the same as those who collect teamsheets and fill in tick sheets of grounds visited. Give āem a name: The Carrier Bag Firm.
Phil Rose - whose Ball Sup blog also exists as a Substack newsletter - has described The CBF thus:
The Carrier Bag Firm have been called nerds, geeks, anoraks - and more frequently virgins. The Carrier Bag is our preferred method of secreting, preserving and transporting our precious cargo of match tickets, three programmes, teamsheets and other meaningless bits of paper.
I self-identify with much of that definition, albeit in a millennial guise: dragging around a digital carrier bag through notes on my phone. Football Lists. Food Lists. Gig lists.
And so it was, with the help of Twitter and nominal research, I devised a new list of nineteen musical Blades. An inventory of live performers who can be tangentially linked to the Blades. And every good inventory needs rules. Mine are simple:
It must be possible to have seen the artist in person;
It must be possible to make a loose association between the artist and Sheffield United Football Club.
With those parameters set, what follows is The List. And to bastardise John Eganās aphorism: if youāre going to make a list, youāve got to tick off your seen-its: your gots, your needs. So what accompanies each artist is either my reflections on seeing them, my memories of venues long closed, and in places, my musical ignorance.
All thatās left are questions to you: who have you got and who do you need (?), which venues do you remember (?), and who have I missed?
GOT, GOT, NEED
ā¦(in no particular order)
1. Arctic Monkeys [got š«]
A picture of a Wednesdayite straddles the cover of Whatever People Say I Am, Thatās What Iām Not. Still, Iāll claim Andy Nicholsonās work on this album as a piece of Blades-related musical heritage.
I got their first demo on CD from my dadās mate. I copied the disc onto iTunes, dragging and dropping the lot onto my first iPod. Their existence introduced me to the possibility that live music could exist in local spaces: The Boardwalk*, The Grapes**, The Leadmill***.
Arctic Monkeys and a load of bands more closely associated with the blue half of the city (Milburn, The Harrisons, Union City) ā they sparked summat in Sheffield and in me. One thing led to another, and I ended up working the door at The Grapes pub. Spending many an evening with the occupants of that tiny upstairs room: Ash and Brian, the owners-cum-sound-engineers who I only ever saw in the same place at the same time once.
Ashās grumpiness was legendary. I remember it turning into rage when a teenage drummer stamped down on his kick drum whilst Ash fiddled with the mics. Not quite as legendary as Brianās trousers (sometimes red but mostly green), and his equal and opposite disposition: calm, quiet; very dry, very funny.
*The Boardwalk has shut down
**The Grapes, as a live music venue, has shut down
***#SaveTheLeadmill
2. Clubs and Spades [got š«]
Andy Nicholson moved into production after the Monkeys, including his part in the four-strong hip-hop collective Clubs and Spades. Iāve sort of got this one.
I never caught Clubs and Spades in person (I donāt think). Still, Iāve seen all their members independently at one time or another: Nicholson mostly in The Bowery* or DQ**; Matic Mouth with Mongrel at Magna.
*The Bowery has shut down
**DQ has shut down
3. John Egan [need ā]
If you go to a pub in Ireland youāve got to have songā¦
I wasnāt there when John Egan wrote or performed that song. Although by virtue of my presence in the Bramall Lane car park after Stoke, and his jumping onto my shoulders once heād gotten off the bus (and him promptly felling me), I was going to count it as a āgotā.
However, I know someone who's seen Egan and a few other Blades performing at the Dog and Partridge, so heās gigging, and itās incumbent on me to find out when.
4. Def Leppard [need ā]
I always think you can spot a Def Leppard fan at Bramall Lane: thereās a look. I havenāt seen Def Leppard, and to be honest, need is a stretch. They arenāt my era. Arenāt my type of band. But you can see āem at Bramall Lane in late Mayā¦ a week before the play-off final (eek).
5. Drenge [got š«]
In Club 60, where drinks are freeā¦
So sang Steve Edwards, the lead singer in Lord of Flatbush (I donāt know if Steve is a Blade ā if so, he should make the list).
Club 60* was a subterranean studio-cum-venue, where drinks ā for me at least ā cost around Ā£3 a can. It was here I first saw Drenge in that dark cellar among decidedly unfree tins of Red Stripe. I remember thinking: these are fucking good, and at the same time, I must be the youngest person here. Only one of those thoughts would turn out to be true because Rory (drummer/Blade) is younger than me. For all his warmth, wit and many talents, Eoin (singer) is a Wednesdayiteā¦ we all have our crosses to bear.
*Club 60 has shut down (making way for a proliferating small-plate brigade in Kelham Island. Full disclosure: I love small plates, but not as much as Club 60)
6. Red Hot Chili Peppers - Flea [need ā]
I donāt think Iāve seen Red Hot Chili Peppers live. Itās possible Iāve caught them on a stage at some large festival, although I wouldnāt have been making any sort of bee-line. That said, Iād have loved to see this at Sheffield Arena:
7. unperson [got š«]
He aināt heavy, heās my brother.
Those are not the words of unperson, but Iām just stating facts. More than anyone on the list, I can categorically confirm unpersonās credentials: I remember Jagielka scoring that belter against Boro on his birthday in 2006. Clearly, the candle-blowing paid off. More than a decade later and Jags is still playing, albeit in an era where Sheffieldās jingle-jangling guitar scene has been outgrown by its irrepressible electronic heritage. Itās cyclical innit? If Philās turning on the radio now, thereās less Jo Wiley R1 and plenty of Tom Ravenscroft R6 playing out bassier bits like unpersonās.
8. Joe Cocker [need ā]
Iāve never seen him live*, but apparently, Joe Cocker is Sheffieldās most recognised singer. This makes some sense to me as Italian Police once pulled my dad over for a traffic violation before spotting āSheffieldā on his driverās license and saying āJoe Cocker!?ā. (They still fined him).
I poured scorn over Joe Cockerās Blades credentials until someone sent me that picture (above), and another Tweeter pointed out this excerpt from an interview in the Guardian:
Are you an Owl or a Blade?
I stay in tune with the Blades. But they've gone from the Premier League back to League One. I do take an interest. It's a wonder of technology that we get all the soccer on a Saturday morning.
*Club 60 apparently hosted Joe Cocker back in the day
9. Antony Genn - Pulp/The Hours [got š«]
(Iām taking a tweeterās word that heās a Blade). Well, I never saw him performing in Pulp, although I have seen Pulp. And Iāve never seen The Hours, although Iām claiming a got because Gennās work might just be more widely watched/heard than anyone else on this list.
Speaking of his involvement with one of the earthās most popular shows, Genn said:
I watched āPeaky Blindersā and it just annoys me when there are clumsy ins and out from tracks ā thereās an art form to editing tracks together. So I said if we could have a bit more free reign [sic], and if people were up for pushing it further forward and getting artists involved, then Iād definitely be up for it. Somehow I managed to bullshā my way into convincing them it was a good idea.
10. Toddla T [got š«]
Iāve seen Toddla T more times than I can count. I think the first time was at Kabal, in an old Co-op Funeral Directors near Matilda Street (thatās my recollection anyhow). It opened my eyes to a lot, including several fake limbs being waved around (now thatās limbs). I used to keep hold of the stubs; Kabal tickets were bought in person and sold in brown paper bags. Another pioneer of electronic will almost certainly have played that night, but whilst Iāve heard Winston Hazelās a Blade, I havenāt got verification.
Of all the many artists listed here, Toddla T represents summat of Sheffield music that canāt be shut down: the party in that venue nobody knew could be a venue. Sound system culture [see also No.7 & No.11].
I loved Toddlaās albums. But the defining tracklist of my early teens is comprised solely of his Ghettoblaster mixtape. For the longest time, it was impossible to find this on the internet. But some kindly soul has returned it to the masses. Just listen to it and improve your Monday (if youāre reading contemporaneously) or life (if youāre reading at all).
If you donāt know Toddla, you probably do. Heās most notably associated with United in collaboration with the next man.
11. Coco [got š«]
Remember this? š
I saw Coco for the first time long before he did this shiny video for Unitedās 19/20 kit release. If I remember rightly, he was playing a house party with his then pairing of Remz & Coco. Think I also saw them playing at Plug* once or twice too, potentially supporting one of JME or Skepta, or maybe both.
*Plug has shut down
12. Before Breakfast [need ā]
(There just arenāt enough men on this list).
When SELF ESTEEM wore her Wednesday get-up at last yearās Tramlines festival, what followed was an unnecessary social media meltdown. And before people started tapping away at needlessly partisan posts, they shouldāve known that beforehand, Before Breakfast were repping the Blades. I wasnāt there but will make sure I am next time.
13. Otis Mensah [need ā]
Sheffieldās poet laureate wrote this ahead of our ill-fated play-off campaign last season. Itās brilliant. I need to see Otis in person. Heās played Glastonbury before, and Iāve got tickets for June, so come on, Eavis: sort it out.
14. Michael Palin [need ā]
Michael Palin wrote for DEM Blades fanzine in what Iāll claim as definitive proof of his allegiance to the red and white stripes. Okay, so heās not necessarily known as a recording artist, but heās sung a lot of famous songs:
15. Dave Berry [need ā]
Another Sheffield singer better known, or at least better-loved, outside of his hometown. Given his age and mine, the opportunity to watch him gig live has been lacking. And if Iām honest, the desire just aināt quite there on my part ā my ignorance, Iām sure.
16. Luke Una [got š«]
Legendary Instagramming aside, the last I saw Luke Una, he was playing in a Glastonbury tent so packed I had to stand on the fringes of Avonās best-known trampled lawn.
His output might be more closely associated with the music scene of our Mancunian pals across the Pennines, but he remains one of my favourite musical Blades ā thatās an uninventive way of putting it, but it remains true. Itās not just a music thing but an outlook thing. Read this (š), and youāll get it.
ā¦[W]hen I was 14 or 15, I was at the match and there was this group of lads just walking down John Street. They were like a throng of hair, this one guy had a walkman on, sunglasses, weird bright coloured pastel clothing, baggy jeans with beads on. Just mad.
I looked at them and thatās this weird peacock tribal thing in me as a young man loving this whole identity, I just thought āwhat the fuck, who are this lot?āā¦ It was a counterculture, they looked weird but greatā¦ Itās always been a very British thing to have a tribal identity with your clothes. Football was just a part of it, it wasnāt central necessarily although it could become so.
17. Graham Fellows/John Shuttleworth/Jilted John [got š«]
Performing as John Shuttleworth, the music of Graham Fellows was an enduring album on the childhood car soundtrack. Granted, Fellows has said that he doesnāt care for football, but he started off a Blade. Last seen ā by me at least ā at Tramlines (Hillsborough Park).
18. Lindsay Dracass [got š«]
I almost had this one down as a need. However, by some quirk of fate, it turns out that I have seen Dracass play live at Bramall Lane. It was ahead of a match against Blackburn where for some reason, I had recourse to the posh tickets. I watched the former Eurovision singer in the playerās lounge beforehand and saw the Blades win 3-0 afterwards. Happy days.
19. Paul Heaton [got š«]
I came to Paul Heaton later in my musical life. His presence was put upon me through the cassettes in the car, but it took years to hit me, first through The Housemartins and later through, well, everything else.
Saw him at Glastonbury last year with Jackie Abbott (where he introduced each band member with a name + the football club they support) and then later at Sheffield Arena without (where he introduced them by their World Cup sweepstake pick). Beforehand I was supping in The Wentworth pub opposite Cineworld where I thought I saw Paul Heckingbottom. It wasnāt, but if Hecky has a brother, that was him. The gig was also a belter.
11 out of 19 š«
How many you counting?
Iām pretty pleased with that score: eleven out of nineteen musical Blades seen in person. At the same time, the number of venues dead to the world is pretty sad. Places where I grew up, faces you could count on seeing weekend in and out.
Music is organic, though ā carrying on regardless. It doesnāt emerge out of venues but from a bare minimum of people and artists willing to turn up. This leads me to what I hope is an obvious statement: this is all spilling out of my head, including my loves, hates and ignorance. There are certainly loads of artists Iāll have missed, and Iād love to hear about emā¦
Sam Parry is the co-founder of DEM Blades fanzine and Commissioning Editor of The Pinch. Inside work he writes speeches, and outside of work, he wonders whether heās ever eaten a truly greasy chip butty.
Thanks Sam
Not knowing anything at all about modern music at all, I'm afraid that apart from John Egan and Michael Palin, the rest don't mean anything to me at all!!
But it was a fascinating read, seeing (a) how many musicians have some from Sheffield (and having even tentative links to the Blades); and (b) how eclectic your taste is and how many music venues you've worked in/visited!
Sue.
Great list. Re Otis Mensah, you just have to step out your door. Seriously, I see him about ALL the time. Not performing like, just wandering about doing normal stuff, but you could ask him for a quick line or two so you can tick him off the list.