I only discovered Frank Turner last year but he's rapidly become one of my favourite artists. His songs are passionate, witty, outspoken and, at times, intensely personal. He mixes heartfelt rock 'n' roll with barnstorming folk like Bruce, Billy and Richard Thompson before him. He's the real deal.
I've been wanting to see Frank live for ages but the last time he played Manchester the tickets sold out immediately. It was obviously time for him to move up and play somewhere bigger... sadly this turned out to be my least favourite venue: the dreaded Apollo. It's a sign of how desperate I was to see this performer live that (still carless) I caught a bus, a train and then took a long walk through one of the dodgiest parts of Manchester... thankfully, Frank didn't let me down.
It was heartening to find myself alongside a great number of Frank-ophiles, many of whom proved all the more devoted with their word perfect singalongs to even the most obscure tracks from the Turner back pages. This is obviously an artist who touches and inspires a great many people and he's surely now on the verge of a tipping point from cult sensation to arena-filling rock star. I missed my chance to see him in the smaller venues but I'll certainly follow him to the larger ones... as long as he doesn't hurry back to the Apollo.
God, that place just goes out of its way to grab my goat. Saturday's annoyance was the heat - turned up so high I almost passed out (no exaggeration for effect). Completely unnecessary... unless it was all a scam to sell more beers. Insert your own Apollo / sun god / surface of the sun gag here; for me it's just one more reason to never set foot in the place again. Please, Frank, make it The Academy next time... or the MEN. Anywhere but the bloody Apollo!
