Live Aid, and other legendary gigs it would have been bloody awful to attend

FIRST gigs, huge gigs, controversial gigs, gigs where you just had to be there, except if you were nobody would ever believe you that it sucked: 

Bob Dylan, Manchester Free Trade Hall, 1966

A gig famous for its attendees not enjoying it. All those folkies who’d gone to see the ‘spokesman for a generation’ booing because they were getting some Rolling Stones blues crap. Always an innovator, Dylan pioneered terrible sound quality, unintelligible lyrics and an audience genuinely unsure what song is currently being played, and is still doing it now.

Woodstock, 1969

The apex of 1960s counterculture was traffic jams, food shortages, bad acid, a hellish storm and scheduling so lax that Jimi Hendrix performed at 9am on Monday morning. At the back of a crowd of 460,000 hippies, the rock legends strutting their stuff were tiny stick figures with not a video screen in sight. No wonder boomers are now so bitter and angry.

Live Aid, 1985

A massive transatlantic fundraiser which opened with Status Quo and managed to go downhill from there. At Wembley Stadium, so if you needed a piss or a hot dog you’d pop off for a minute, find it took 40 and now you’ve missed Paul McCartney, Elvis Costello and Sting. Led Zeppelin’s performance was so bad they tried to suppress the footage.

Sex Pistols, Manchester Lesser Free Trade Hall, 1976

A gig so bad it inspired the entire audience to form bands on the basis that f**k it, they can’t be any worse. One of the attendees was Mick Hucknall, so even that was wrong. So early in the Pistols’ careers there wasn’t even the thrill of notoriety. They were just a not-very-good band spitting.

The Stone Roses, Spike Island, 1990

The culmination, and thankfully the death of, Madchester. Spike Island saw a band use their one decent album they produced to organise a mass gathering of gurning wankers on a site of chemical pollution. The music was inaudible over the wind howling down the Mersey estuary. Still, that meant not having to hear Ian Brown live.

The Libertines, someone’s flat, 2001

A guerrilla gig by the next big thing? Intimate, personal, thrilling? Think through the practicalities of a rock concert in a living room. Stifling heat, ear-bleeding amplification, the space of a battery farm, and a single toilet constantly occupied by somebody shooting up. As much fun as a rush hour journey on the Northern Line where you’re arrested at the end.

Photocopier planning to skip office Christmas party

A PHOTOCOPIER has decided not to attend this year’s office Christmas party because it finds it always a degrading experience, it has confirmed.

Joe Turner, a Canon imageRunner Advance DX C3822i laser copier who has been with his company for four years, has RSVPd ‘No’ to this year’s office Christmas party because he is sick of colleagues taking advantage of him after a few drinks.

He said: “Every year it’s the same. Starts civilly enough, but by 10pm I’ve got a bare arse squashed into my face.

“There’s no small talk. Nobody asks how I found printing off all those handover notes when Susan left or checks in on my ink levels. It’s just trousers down, cheeks out, isn’t this f**king hilarious. Well not when you’re on the receiving end.

“And it’s meant to be a party. I wouldn’t trundle over to Tom from marketing while he’s having a dance and ask him to rattle off a report for Q3’s sales figures. But as soon as everyone’s pissed I’m running off 30 copies of Sally’s buttocks.

“No, I expect I’ll keep myself busy that night. pop out to see Gladiator 2 or something. Sorry to not be a team player but at least I’ll have my dignity.”

Martin Bishop of operations management said: “You’re joking, the copier’s not coming? Miserable bastard.”