Reggae in the seven foot never caught on
Entry posted by GhostOfClayton
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I had a great weekend, but to tell you why, I will have to tell you a little local history. There is an entertainment venue in the north of England called Scunthorpe Baths. It gained notoriety in the mid 70s following
Basically, Scunthorpe had an old, ornate Baths Hall dating from 1931. Lovely place to swim. The council cleverly realised that on Saturday nights, no-one was swimming, so they constructed a system of covering the pool over and creating a dance floor. Some great acts appeared there - The Kinks, Status Quo, Ocean Colour Scene, The Damned, etc. Flushed with the success of the idea, and having new swimming and leisure pools in the area, the council closed the baths, and opened it full time as an entertainment venue. It had its ups and downs, but gained a good reputation because it wasn�t too big to lose intimacy, and yet was big enough to bring in the crowds. It had a very good atmosphere, a bar in the hall itself (how many largish venues can boast that?), and a history that made everyone love the place.
However, one of its downs coincided with a Conservative Council, and plans were drawn up to sell off the land for housing. This didn�t go down to well with the townsfolk, many of whom saw it as a part of their childhood (as both a courting couple and newlyweds, Mrs OfClayton and myself were no strangers to the place), and the subsequent Labour Council had saving the Baths as a manifesto item.
True to their word, the Labour Council rebuilt and reopened the Baths Hall, with the opening night being last Friday. . . and that�s where I found myself. For the opener, the Baths had booked none other than Bill Bailey � the quirky musical comedian who dipped out of his regular spot on panel game �Never Mind The Buzzcocks� just when everyone should have. I�ve seen him twice before, once in Scunthorpe�s other venue, The Plowright, and once in Hull City Hall. Both times he was pant-wettingly funny, but this time he excelled. I never stopped laughing from start to finish. My sides and jaws ached to the point where the interval was a welcome break from the sheer exertion of all that hilarity. If you get a chance to see him on his current �Dandelion Mind� tour, do it. And the all-new venue? Well, no-one would knock it. It�s shiny, new, clean, well thought out, flexible, practical, etc. and the people of Scunthorpe (I�m sure) have good reason to be proud of it. But it lacks that rough and ready atmosphere that lent it such charm. Purpose-built can never seem to match cobbled-together or evolved. I wish it well, and hope the next generation of that town grow up with the same fond and warm memories.
But Scunthorpe Baths� influence on my weekend didn�t end there. Saturday night was the Rock Open. A wonderful annual event in which upcoming local bands strut their stuff to be judged by seen-it-all-before-long-in-the-tooth local musicians. This is truly the event for which the old Baths was perfect. You could come in, have a few drinks, wander around, see friends, have a dance without the need to feel self-conscious, not expect too much of the music, etc, etc. all until the wee small hours. I was quite looking forward to it, but unfortunately Mrs OfClayton had volunteered us to babysit for the larger of the OfClayton niece/nephew tribes, and had told me about it at a time when I was only pretending to listen � which is tantamount to keeping it a secret, eh chaps? So, sadly I missed out on this annual festival of adequate music. Oh well, there�s always 2012.
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