Saxon and the Night of Really Drunk and Ready to Rumble Bikers
Nowadays I love listening to AC/DC and Metallica, but back in the days I didn’t really care much for heavy metal at all. The 1980’s were, to me, a musical nightmare dominated by chaotic heavy metal and prissy electronic music (does the name Howard Jones ring a bell?). Neither one was my style. While I’ve learned to appreciate a lot of the metal music I used to disdain, I still don’t exactly “follow” that scene, the way I follow, say, football. So it wasn’t until tonight that I learned that Saxon’s leadsinger lost his house and pretty much everyhing he owned in a fire a couple of months ago. That’s just a terrible thing to have happen, and apparently his children took it really hard, which one can understand.
I’ve actually crossed paths with Saxon.
Saxon had a gig at the pub I used to work at almost ten years ago. That concert was insanity. People from just about all over Central Old Country, including members of at least two motorcycle gangs, travelled to our little place to relive the 1980’s. In a gross misallocation of human resources, I was left guarding the coats while virtually all other male employees in the building formed a human chain in front of the stage to keep the drunk and rowdy crowd from storming it. The scene was later described to me as an hour-long fistfight and wrestling match and a couple of times it had seemed as if the thin, beige line would collapse. Two plainclothes police officers entered the premises to make note of trouble makers to be apprehended once they had left the building. The cops made clear in no uncertain terms that they were not going to arrest anybody in the building, for fear of setting off the mother of all alcohol-fueled bar brawls. Later that evening a cop told me that some guests had complained about being punched by our staff. I suppose that could have happened…
Somehow, thank God, the place didn’t erupt. In the end it all just petered out, with drunk but satisfied customers stumbling out of the pub. After we had cleaned up the joint it was time to party with Saxons (as I’m sure members of Saxon are called). An old metal-head friend of mine totally freaked out when I casually mentioned this a few months later. In reality, I had left shortly after we were done cleaning. I enjoyed working in the pub, but I’ve never been much of a party guy. So instead of a night of epic drinking with Saxon, I hustled home and went to sleep.
In hindsight, I deeply regret not boozing the night away with the band.
