666 : View From The Cheap Seats

We here at Rockflesh.com make a virtue of not talking about other lives outside being writers or photographers. After all you, our discerning readers are interested in the bands we watch as opposed to our relationship woes, job statuses and health struggles. That self-enforced anonymity will mean that you will be unaware that I had a major bicycle accident two and a half years ago involving an articulated lorry and a safety fence that robbed me of a substantial part of my mobility. Pre-September 2022 I was a bit of a pit troll if all told. I liked nothing more than to be stood in a heaving mass of people feeling the swell of the crowd melee around me. I was the one in the middle drinking it all in.

That is all now yesterday. Gigging for me has become a much more bureaucratic endeavour involving pre-booking a seat in a preordained accessible area. As the late great Ian Dury said, “Being disabled isn’t about being brave, it’s about being organised”. Concert going is my passion and my distraction from a rather merciless day job. If I didn’t produce misspelt ditties about bands you have never heard of with logos you can't read, then I am not quite sure what I would be doing. The fact that I have been able to continue this pursuit after my accident is down purely to the access options provided by the venues we use.

I’m yet to find a venue that has not been able to adhere to my request for a chair and a clear view. The lengths that some of them have gone to make me comfortable has frankly reaffirmed my faith in the human spirit. Side of stage at Rebellion has become my spiritual home and there now seems to be a seat with my name on it whether I am down to cover a show or not. As a small independent venue with little resources and space to play with the fact they have a designated viewing area is to be commended. The Academy complex and the legendary Ritz have also both risen up to the occasion. The former has been wonderfully amenable, especially when press allocation deadlines mean that I am only confirming attendance days or even hours before the show. The front-of-house staff have been kind, considerate and fantastically compassionate.

The latter venue has also shown great humanity after a slightly bumpy start. Initially, they requested I sit behind the dominion of the monitors meaning that for Amorphis I experienced the delights of their drummer only and the exquisite melodic death metal guitar was lost in the ether. However, going forward this was amended, and I am now allowed to place my stool anywhere I want as long as I don’t infringe on the iconic bouncy dancefloor. In fact, the security team there are particularly pleasant, regularly checking on my welfare.

These shout-out’s would not be complete without mentioning 02 Victoria warehouse who have worked diligently to make a distinctly inaccessible building accessible and also to New Century Hall and Albert Hall for providing bar service directly to the accessibility platform. This genius of an idea has saved my legs no end though has resulted in me drinking a lot more than I usually plan to at a gig.

The point of this meandering monologue is to say two things. One, being disabled doesn't stop you from doing the things you love, you just got to do them in a slightly different way. Secondly, for all the buggerration in the world, people are kind and considerate. In my quest to continue gigging with a profound mobility issue, all I've come across is acceptance and adjustment. People have wanted to help, and people have been happy to help. Without the support of the venues above and their openness to provide reasonable adjustments, I couldn't continue to provide misjudged and ill-informed opinions whether you want them or not, and we can't have that, can we?