THE NAGNFC
UK 2002 EXPOSURE TOUR
RIVETING CHAPTERS
One Numanoid's misadventures during Gary Numan's Exposure Tour
CHAPTER 1:
GLASGOW, SCOTLAND
It was a month before the first concert on September 18th in Glasgow, and I had doubts whether I could get things together in such a short time. Just in case, I purchased all my concert tickets for Glasgow, Liverpool and London on the WayAhead website in the UK.
Soon, I received word that my tickets wouldn't be able to be shipped in time. I offered to pay extra for overnight FedEx but it wasn't an option. Before panic could rear its head I thought of Chris and Tina in Birmingham to whom I could have my tickets sent within 3 days. Mysteriously, I received my Liverpool ticket at home anyway. Two days before my flight left for the UK, Chris sent an urgent email to say they only received the London ticket in the mail. After a fourth phone call to WayAhead, they assured me my Glasgow ticket would be waiting for me at the venue.
I'm not too sure how WayAhead got their name, but I don't think diligence or expedience were the culprits. Things looked up when my contact in Los Angeles said she would be at the shows and assured me she could get me backstage for at least the Liverpool and London shows. Steve in Manchester thoughtfully offered his home again as did Chris and Tina in Birmingham.
The trip looked to be in peril yet again when I finally got around to procuring plane tickets online. In my naivety, I waited until 5 days beforehand to book the flight. Well, this turned a $490.00 flight into a $1300.00 flight. "Golly', I thought. I scoured the net for a deal, but it wasn't until hitting on Priceline.com that I was assured my trip was saved. I saved $800.00 but the catch was I had to fly out of NYC to Philly, then to Manchester, UK. Fair enough.
I would liked to have caught up with Callum MacNeill in Scotland but time prevented a letter to him. He sounds like a fun person and would definitely like to meet up sometime. I could only write to John Gullidge 3 hours before I left home for the airport. I assured him he wasn't being ignored but that I had been so busy at work and planning for the trip to see the antics of Our Friend Electric on 3 stages all over the UK. John wrote back to say that sadly he wouldn't be attending the Numan shows, but that he was saving money to see a couple friends I introduced him to at the Boulder show on the Pure Tour. He is actually spending a month with them in November!
The day of my flight arrived. On Tuesday, September 17th, I worked until 3 in the morning. I would need to get home, pack and manage 3 or 4 hours of sleep before the plane left NYC at 2:30 pm. My friends at work managed to talk me into staying after work for a card game though. Good thing they did, as it added another $50 to the vacation budget.
My folks offered to drive me to the airport and see me off. I drove us there in my car which they would drive back themselves. We left at 8:30 am on a sunny and optimistic day. I don't drink coffee, but I discovered the local gas station coffee was like an 8 hour sleep in a cup. Good thing too, as the drive to LaGuardia Airport in NYC from Ithaca was 4 hours.
I drove us across the George Washington Bridge and saw New York City's new skyline as my mom frantically shot video out the window. I drove us across the top level of the bridge for the better view.
The Machman's Dad
The tiny size of the US Airways terminal at LaGuardia was surprising. My folks saw me off and I was alone. I checked the bags and scored my plane tickets from the nice lady. The next thing to do was to go through security. Once again on this entire trip, I breezed through security. I watched countless people with their arms spread getting scanned with a hand wand. I saw people asked to go to special tables to empty the contents of their carry on luggage. I saw people who were asked to take off their shoes. Me and my backpack skated through every time.
The MachMother
There were several shops and restaurants to bide the 2 hours until my plane left. The restaurant doing the most business was the McDonald's. I was sure that when my jet lifted me into the air at 800 g's, I didn't want to be full of greasy food lest the airsick bag be in imminent danger of receiving unpleasant super-sized remnants of Ronald McDonald's finest. I've never gotten travel sick but didn't want to risk the embarrassment in front of my 200 fellow coach passengers.
Saying goodbye to America
The plane to Philadelphia wasn't even a jet, but a twin propeller 40 seater much like the type Gary has owned. It didn't fly 37,000 feet in the air like a jet, but only 8,000. From this altitude, I sidestepped from the original plan to take a nap and enjoyed picking out stuff in the landscape like the Tappan Zee Bridge and major interstate highways.
Philadelphia was unmistakable as it appeared over the landscape. The airport was incredibly massive and I scored a map of the place. I had a couple hours to kill, so I walked from Terminal A to Terminal F. Quite a hike, but checking out all the shops and restaurants in all the terminals was fun. I picked out a take out place to eat and sat to enjoy lunch and watch the frantic travelers attempting to keep a schedule.
With nothing else to do, I actually filled out a credit card application just to get a piece of the free goodies action. I had a choice of stuffed animals, T-shirts or a watch with an alarm. A travel alarm would be handy on this trip, so I took one for myself. Never used it though.
Another downside to procrastinating on the booking of a flight was that it is hard to get the seat you want. I was stuck in the center of the middle row, but everyone had their own TV screens and on the way I watched the surprisingly good movie Spiderman, and sat through an excellent documentary about fellow adventurous traveler Shackleton, who attempted to secure Britain's place in history in the 1900's by being the first to reach the South Pole. There was recently a great docu-movie about him that was well attended on the Cornell University campus here in Ithaca. Quite a story.
The plane pulled into Manchester Airport on a sunny and warm Wednesday morning at 7:30. Steve wouldn't be home from work until 6 pm, so I was like a tiger loose on the town all day. The British customs agent was pleasant. He asked the purpose of my trip. He said I must be quite a fan especially having seen the previous Manchester stamp on my passport from April. He said he was a big fan back in the day. I said 'everyone' was a fan back in the day. With a smile I passed into England. I grabbed my duffle bag to grab a bus the 12 miles into Manchester. I met a great couple from Australia as we all helped each other find the bus stop.
I watched the early morning suburban neighborhoods of Manchester as I passed by at 8 am on the bus. To me it was 3 in the morning, but here the kids were walking to school and adults were driving to work. On the bus, I decided to get to the Trafford Centre, a huge new mall just outside town. I never did explore the whole thing the last time. From central Manchester I scored a bus to the mall. A group of rowdy but funny juveniles who skipped school were on the bus. They laughed and partied on the bus the whole way, frequently changing seats all over the bus.
Finally the driver said to settle down or get off the bus. As they continued running up the aisle the bus driver jammed the brakes causing young people to fly forward at a tremendous rate. It was everything I could do to keep from laughing at them. It didn't really kill their reverie though.
At the mall, I had a good look around. Tired, and with one ear still unpopped from the flight, I walked almost the length of the mall, its sections fancied up like different parts of the world. The theater showed 20 films. Since I was in the UK, storied home of alien crop circles, I decided to attend the Mel Gibson film Signs which was very involving. I was about the only person in the morning showing of the film, and the dark theater was a great respite from all the traveling in the past few hours. A good film, a warm box of popcorn and a big cold drink was just the cure.
The bus trip back from the mall into downtown was eventful as well. Near town, a disturbed older man got on. Upon sitting near the back, he started talking loudly about political views and other topics. He would then start singing songs like "I am a banana". Fellow passengers and myself looked at each other trying not to laugh. Some giggled but the performance continued. Satisfied that I received my 1.90 worth of entertainment, I left the bus when we got downtown. The Gardens were literally just a construction hole in the middle of town when I was last here, but now it was about three stories of concrete. Work was progressing rapidly. I wondered what it would look like next time?
I made my way to the bus stop that would take me to Steve's place. I was a bit early, but I was armed with several newspapers and snacks. Steve arrived from around the corner to see The Machman at his front door just as we planned. I hadn't seen him since he dropped me off at the airport in April. We talked about Numan awhile and before long we were off to pick up my train ticket to Glasgow he helped me buy.
The last time I was at Manchester Picadilly, the city's train station, there was massive construction going on. There was a mural then with an artist's rendering of what the place would look like when it was finished, but I didn't believe it. The place was so small as to be claustrophobic. The change was amazing. The artist's mural was live and in 3-D before me. All I recognized of April's Piccadilly were the train platforms. That section now opened up through glass into a massive new futuristic world of shops and escalators. We looked around and grabbed my ticket through a computerized machine then left for the brand new ASDA/Wal-Mart. This was a good place to stock up on film and snacks for the train to Glasgow the next morning. Steve bought some frozen pizzas. We drove home and he cooked one and offered one of my own, but I was fine.
The next morning, Steve stepped out for awhile and I got ready for my first foray into Scotland. As I did, the radio in the bathroom offered a call-in topic polling the listeners whether Scottish kilts were sexy. The opinions varied.
Steve and I got to downtown Manchester and walked through the train station to a nearby diner where Chris and Tina waited for us. Chris gave me my London ticket, and I bestowed on them a couple homemade Numan concerts. We chatted awhile then hopped the train to Scotland.
On board, Steve and I sat in front of Chris and Tina. Occasionally Chris would lean up and start flicking Steve's nose. I surprised everyone with drinks from the snack car. Soon everyone succumbed to napping while I walked to a lone section in between train cars and stared transfixed out the window as maple and oak trees gave way to birch and stunted pine further north.
Glasgow was pretty far up the map, but I had good reading material. Earlier, the passenger across the aisle from me overheard us talking about things to do in Glasgow. He gave me an excellent large booklet about the city. When I returned it to him he said I could keep it!
Finally Glasgow appeared from over the northern horizon. This was it! The site of Gary's first show on the Exposure Tour! There was a huge map of Glasgow in the train station which we studied. Chris pointed to a spot on the map saying it would be a good idea to give the area a wide berth. When I asked him, he said it was only coincidence that he was pointing to Napier Street.
Chris and Tina went to check into their hotel, and Steve and I scouted the place for our friend Dave who came from Sunderland in his car. We called Dave to learn he was not at the main train station, but at the Queen Street station. It wasn't far to walk so we went to it. I took pictures along the way and we found Dave standing outside.
We found Osama Bin Laden in Glasgow picking his nose
Dave, Steve and I spent the afternoon checking out the local shops. Though they closed long ago here in America, Britain still has Woolworth's. It was with tremendous nostalgia that I entered it to buy some bathroom items for the trip. Dave's car was parked across town near the the University where Gary was to play this evening, but before we dropped off my things in his car we checked out the science museum and a large new tower which was being worked on at the time. Five workers were climbing the slanted glass walls of the museum to clean them. It was a fun walk although it was in the exact spot Chris said to avoid. There was hardly anyone around this deserted part of town.
Finally we strolled into the gorgeous University area with lively shops and college students everywhere. It was still early but I dropped off my things at the car whilst the Steve and Dave scoured the area on foot and had a look around.
The Queen Margaret Union was hidden and I needed to ask directions which I received from a friendly crowd of 3 students. To my relief, there were only 6 folks in line in front of me. A couple of people looked familiar, but I wasn't certain. I got talking with a group in front of me about the NAGNFC. I purposely didn't bring any business cards this time as I was certain everyone had heard of it. I was very wrong. That will teach me! Still, we found a pen and paper and I gave them the address for this website.
A group of young girls scantily clad wielding bottles of hard liquor lined up behind me. The way they were putting it away, I was sure any one of them could drink me under the table. Soon, I could see some of Gary's band enter through a hidden downstairs door. Richard Beasley and David Brooks caught sight of me and climbed the stairs to greet me followed by 'Surfin' Steve Harris and Ade Orange. I finally had the opportunity to properly thank Richard for handing me those drumsticks from the stage after the last night of the Pure World Tour. In these situations, I'm always afraid of saying something stupid, but these guys are great to speak with. They left downstairs telling me to enjoy the show, and I told them to have fun tonight.
It didn't take long before the line behind us became much longer and the girls became ever drunker. As we stood there, we were entertained by the soundcheck blasting loudly out the windows. I stepped out of line and walked inside to claim my ticket, but was told to do this when the doors officially opened. Hopefully it wouldn't be too long a process so I could get a good spot inside. The doors opened and the staff made a good show of pretending to pat everyone down. If they had been sincere, they would have found cameras, recording devices and hard liquor.
I rushed to the ticket booth, threw down my reference number and ID so I could grab my ticket and rush upstairs to run to the stage. They informed me apologetically that they had no record of my name on file for a ticket. I was told to wait until they could call my friends at WayAhead to confirm things. This process took roughly 15 minutes. There was another hapless guy standing next to me with the same problem. Not that I had to ask, but he got his tickets through WayAhead as well. Turns out this guy traveled alone all the way from Germany to be here tonight. So basically the people who came furthest to be here were the ones who waited on the side watching everyone file in. We made light of our situation considering.
Finally we were cleared to enter the building. Of course I could have bought another ticket, but it was a little harrowing. The staff of the venue were sympathetic. It wasn't their fault. Upon hearing the news, my new German friend and I high-fived each other and ran up the stairs. I thought a good spot inside was beyond wishing.
The way the venue was set up though, people still weren't allowed to the stage, they had merely been filtered into a bar area where folks leisurely ordered drinks and sat around tables. There was a small line at the doors to get into the stage. The friends I made in front of me were near the front and I went up to speak with them about all manner of topics.
The doors opened and Numanoids ran in a frenzy toward the stage. I took a shortcut, but it wasn't a very clever one. But I still ended up near front and center which was awesome considering the 100 or so people I saw walk in ahead of me at the first set of doors.
I stood and watched the stage listening to the beautiful Scottish accents behind me talking about one of my favorite topics: Numan. It wasn't long before a guy next to me recognized me from the NAGNFC. Craig was outgoing, friendly and loud. He motioned for everyone to look over at us saying that "it was Jim The Machman!" as he whipped out his camera to give to a couple girls behind us to take several pictures of us together. I whipped out my camera as well for the girls to snap off a photo of us.
The Machman and Craig
Just afterwards a lovely woman named Cheryl approached me telling me how much she enjoyed the website. She asked me all about the NAGNFC, and finally asked me what I was doing after the show. I told her my friends and I were driving the 4 hours back to Manchester afterwards. With a handshake, she disappeared back into the crowd.
I kept scanning for Chris, Tina, Dave or Steve but couldn't spot them in the crowd. Finally I turned around and saw a female bouncer the spitting image of my ex-fiancée in Canada. My fiancée's name was Macdonald after all, very Scottish. The bouncer was friendly and gave out bottled water upon request. Is this a new phenomenon? I'd never seen it. I thought it a friendly Scottish gesture. Or probably a bribe to the crowd in the front row to refrain from causing trouble.
The lights went down and folks of Glasgow started shouting "Gady! Gady!" Rico came out and performed an energetic set for us which frequently crossed the sound barrier between soft melodic and hard thrashing. The lead singer displayed his local heritage by wearing Scottish clan colors.
The lights came back on as Rico's equipment were whisked away to reveal Gary Numan's now familiar gear like the Alesis keyboards and his trusty guitar that has found its way to nearly every single Numan album. The Big G took the security stance on the sidelines for this last tour.
The audience were plunged into darkness and everyone cheered giddily in anticipation. The intro, Exposure, oozed electronically from the mighty speakers. The band walked out followed by Gary Numan. The entire band were on fire, and assaulted us with a Numan soundscape unprecedented in history. There were no new songs save for Exposure, but there were some surprises. Here's how it went:
1) Exposure intro
2) M.E.
3) My Jesus
4) My Shadow in Vain
5) I Can't Breathe
6) This Wreckage (new version)
7) Dead Heaven
8) Pure
9) Bleed
10) Prayer For The Unborn
11) Walking With Shadows
12) We Are So Fragile (new version)
13) Oh! Didn't I Say
14) Listen To My Voice
15) Rip
16) Down In The Park
17) I Die: You Die
18) Moral
19) Are 'Friends' Electric?
Gary wore a shiny metal top which reflected as much light at us as was the reflection of his energy into all of us. He was really into it, even shouting "1,2,3,4" careening the band into the 1978 rhythms of Oh! Didn't I Say. And everyone was shocked when the song which sounded like Metal turned out to be Moral. And it was like Numan's trademark song, Cars, wasn't even missed.
There were murmurs after the show that it was the best Numan show several of them had ever seen. I walked outside giving a quick wave to Gemma and Tony Webb as I saw them climb into the elevator upstairs. I walked outside and didn't see anyone I knew. I wasn't the first out the door and reckoned Steve and Dave were at the car about 5 blocks away. A group of students loudly sang Down In The Park through the streets of Glasgow as I walked. At the line "machman meet the machines and played kill by numbers", I thought it was someone I knew, and I turned around to see only strangers.
There was no car where we left it, but I waited here on this quiet road. While I sat on the curb alone a somewhat inebriated older gentleman approached me and asked if everything was okay. He didn't want anything, just the mention that all was well. Dave drove up to the curb a half hour later, we had misunderstood each other about the meeting spot after the show. No matter, we drove back to pick up Steve at the venue.
Numanoids waited by the bus to say hello to Gary. I approached The Big G when he asked me if I received his e-mail. Sadly, I never got it. He said it must have been his server causing the problem. He was just saying hello and a congrats on the website. I told him it was great to see him back as it was announced that the London show back in April would be his last. The Big G said Beryl called him at the very last moment to come work the Exposure Tour. It was a long drive back to Manchester so I didn't hold up Steve and Dave.
We took the left side of the dark Scotland road into the black of night where I fell asleep in the back seat, waking only occasionally to see Dave passing the intermittent lorry at 85 mph.