Attention Patrons,Due to the increase of the Delta Variant and the danger it poses, we are writing to let you know that starting October 1st, 2021, in additional to masks, proof of vaccination will be required for all attendees of in-person performances at the ArtsCenter.This was a difficult decision to make, however given the risks that the new variant poses to the health of the community, we believe this organizational mandate is the most sensible measure for the safety of the community.
Almost two decades on from their last album, Del Amitri easily remember the good old days, when a Glasgow indie band "who never really cut it as Orange Juice and Josef K copyists, which is kinda what we were" became, in effect, overnight successes.
Suddenly, after a still-born first album (1985's Del Amitri), with 1989's Waking Hours, hit single 'Nothing Ever Happens' propelled them to sharing a Top of the Pops stage with Phil Collins, then in the imperial phase of his solo career, newcomer Sinead O'Connor singing 'Nothing Compares 2 U,' and the premier of Public Enemy's 'Welcome to the Terrordome' video.
Two years later, Del Amitri were still regulars on the nation's favourite chart show. Promoting 1992 hit 'Always The Last to Know,' the band appeared on an episode alongside an En Vogue video ('My Lovin'), Shakespears Sister ('I Don't Care') and, performing smash US hit 'Jump,' adolescent rap duo Kriss Kross, they of the backwards-jeans.
"I remember hearing their manager shouting at someone from the BBC," says guitarist Iain Harvie, "complaining about the sound: 'Even that fucking Scottish rock band sound better than my guys!'"
Del Amitri also remember the other side of the good old days. That happens when being successful enough to bag a stadium support with one of the biggest bands in the world isn't quite enough success to insulate you from the indignity of a breakfast TV outside-broadcast from Blackpool and being upstaged by a dancing omelette.
"We did a gig with REM in Cardiff Arms Park, third on the bill with Belly and The Cranberries," begins singer/guitarist Justin Currie. "And REM were mingling round the catering area after and invited us to their aftershow. We're like: 'Oh yes! We're going to get to party with REM!'"
"Oh no -- we had to get on the bus at midnight, drive through the night to Blackpool, sit outside the beach on the tour bus, waiting on the 5.30am call-time, then got put in a Portakabin, ignored for three hours. What the fuck are we doing here? We could still be partying with REM!
"Then at three minutes to nine, Danni Minogue comes in and yells at us to get onstage! So we get up there -- as the credits are rolling -- and it's chaos. There's a Nolan Sister, all these kids waving inflatable toys, us miming, in front of a dancing chicken and egg -- I still don't know who came on first -- waving kitchen utensils. Then Frank Carson comes on just as we're about to down tools. He spots how pissed off I was, so starts dancing behind me, occasionally leaning into my ear going: 'You're a wanker! You're a wanker!'"
"It was a travesty," Harvie laughs ruefully. "But at least our tour manager enjoyed it -- he was at the side of the stage, pissing himself laughing."