Sound And Vision... almost

A couple of weeks ago a friend alerted me to an event that he thought may be of interest to me - another David Bowie night (well, from 2.00pm until 11.00pm) at the Sound Control nightclub in Manchester, titled rather aptly "Sound Control To Major Tom". 

With said friend taking part in an official capacity as DJ, it was something that I thought would definitely be worth supporting - especially as it was raising funds for the Macmillan Cancer Care organisation.  I'd really enjoyed the last similar event run by the Scary Monsters outfit, so was looking forward to more of Mr. Bowie's best and seeing some tribute bands at the same time.

So, suitably dressed in a tiny dress and high-heeled (but comfy) ankle boots I made my way across the city centre to Sound Control, hidden in the small labyrinth of side streets near Oxford Road.

Dexi Delite Manchester and Cheshire Escort - Sound Control To Major Tom, Manchester.

Sorry couldn't help myself.  Mention 'Labyrinth' and all I can think of in my fevered brain is Bowie in those trousers with his bulging crotch whispering "Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave."


Anyway, where was I?  Oh yes.  First hitch - lift off was delayed.  I had to stand underneath some nearby railway arches for 15 minutes whilst the final preparations were made and the doors, like Major Tom's spacecraft, finally opened.

I always find it odd to be in the subterranean darkness of a club in the relatively light daytime (when I say relatively, it is Manchester after all...), and this time was no different.  It was pleasing to see a fair few fans had already arrived though, and I quite enjoyed initially sitting and listening to some Bowie classics at a volume that would get me thrown out of my city centre apartment quicker than you could say, well... Lodger. 

Dexi Delite Manchester and Cheshire Escort - Sound Control To Major Tom, Manchester.

After a while though, some Hunger pangs were starting to make themselves felt.

Dexi Delite Manchester and Cheshire Escort - The Hunger.

No sorry, not that Hunger (but I couldn't resist), but something to soak up the bit of alcohol that my body was in a bit of shock at imbibing so early in the day.  Therefore, it was off across the small road to The Thirsty Scholar for some rather more solid calorie intake.

That meant a portion of chips.  Normal or large - well, large of course (thinking of the coming alcohol consumption).  The large portion duly arrived.

Dexi Delite Manchester and Cheshire Escort - Chips!

I'm not one for taking photos of food that I'm about to eat, nor does the photo show the size of the portion that arrived, but let me assure you that the forthcoming potato famine will be purely as a result of what I had plonked in front of me - it really was a portion for four people, at least.

Anyway, in truth I only managed a small part of the potato platter before the colossal carbohydrate chip overdose got to me, and I headed back to Sound Control.

The club had filled somewhat (a bit like my belly), and I certainly enjoyed the next few hours as daytime moved into evening.

Dexi Delite Manchester and Cheshire Escort - Sound Control To Major Tom, Manchester.

Whilst the DJs were playing downstairs, the upstairs stage room was were the bands were playing.  I did venture up a few times to see different acts, but I realised I preferred listening to the Bowie originals than 'reinterpretations' from other bands, so spent most of the time in the downstairs room.  It was a great atmosphere, too, and I made sure I spent plenty of time on the crowded dancefloor with all the other Bowie fans for much of the night.

All was going well until about 9.00pm, when the music stopped suddenly.  Definitely not full Sound And Vision.  The DJs looked a little worried, and there was much pushing and pressing of buttons behind the mixing desk.  "Ground Control to Major Tom, Your circuit's dead, there's something wrong, Can you hear me, Major Tom?" indeed.

After a few minutes of silence normal service resumed and the music kick started again - Let's Dance... again.  But there was a problem, if soon transpired.  After about six songs it was back to Let's Dance again... then the same songs again, then Let's Dance again.  It was as though Major Tom had floated off into the cosmos, taking his magical collection of music with him and leaving a few pieces for the rest of us to mourn over.

I stayed for only a short time after that, realising that I could probably hear a more varied Bowie collection on my own sound system, so, with a goodbye to the lovely people I'd met, I headed off home, the music of 'Lady Stardust' in my head.  "Get some pussy now..."  Oh yes, Mr. Bowie... oh yes.