These Bones Were Built On Living Miles From Anywhere

Have you ever been to Exeter? Or Devon? It's a long way from anywhere. When we were younger (pre-driving days you know) then the bands that we could see were entirely limited to what came to Exeter, and more particularly, shows that we could see, and still get the last bus home. The last bus to Cullompton left Exeter Bus Station at 10:05pm. Not much use for a young lad who wanted to see both of Feeder's encores! My friends Cheesman and Spud (both names that their Mother's gave them) and I would leg it to the Bus Stop from the University where most all ages shows took place. If we missed that bus, we were in serious trouble! Exeter Bus Station is not a warm place to be at night!

We were big kerrang readers in our youth (and nme, and melody maker and anything really) and if any band that was mentioned in its "hallowed" pages came to our county, then we had to go: this was an absolute and unbreakable rule. I had to question my own inner workings when I got the flu directly before Reef came to town- was I simply projecting my unwillingness to go, and therefore making myself ill?! This meant that we watched what you might call "a load of old tud" on regular occasions. As soon as we were old enough to go to The Cavern, we would go to as much as possible (Psycore anyone?!!) and that was a huge education, but we still often had to get that last bus, which sometime in 1999 suddenly gave us an extra 25 minutes, and didn't then leave until 10:30pm. Good times! Local shows were the main thing to go to- they were cheap, and it felt less like you were simply a consumer. Apricot Smile were favourites of mine! They played covers of local radio adverts to a high level of competancy in the Epi-Fat style!

Anyway, Cheesman and Spud fell away, but I kept going. There were tens, hundreds of shows where I would just go alone; my friends stopped skating and starting dj-ing, stopped listening to bands and started being bankers, sold their guitars and went out with goons who didn't understand. Times were hard, but it was worth it. There's a certain sense of triumph that I feel when people I know now say "oh I wish I'd been at that show, but i was at (insert crap club name here)". Ha! It was worth it just for this! Things were hard, but I knew I was there for the right reasons- a love of the music, the art, the culture. Not to see my friends, not to look good (I certainly did not), not because everyone else was doing it, but because I wanted to.

Now, fast forward 10 years. I am still here. Sometimes I wish I wasn't. Sometimes I'd like a quiet life, but I know, and you know that there can be no accusations of doing it for the wrong reasons. Just like when we were running for (and missing) the 10:05 bus. If it means anything at all, I'd go and watch 3 Colours Red again, and I'd sleep on that bench.