rec6

Orbital at the Sheffield Octogan March 18th 1999

After spending most of the day filming an really unconvincing film about lucky charms in the middle of Barnsely I am going to see Orbital. It�s time to meet up with some of my friends in Sheffield. To the station after hurridly gomping down a dodgy Stir fry which is stuck to the pan as I forgot to stir it, and it�s barley fried. Dressed in my glow in the dark Orbital top (which I rather stupidly wore in the darkroom earlier that week) and a dodgy purple fleese that someone gave me several years ago to go and see Coventry city loose 3 - 1 against West Ham, I look like a right prick. Well I certainly feel out of place on a British rail train full of dirty yorkshire people with their pie and peas and whippets. I avoid the ticket collector, looking out of the window and pretending to be asleep when he passes by the aisle. This is incredibly stupid as I�ve actually bought a ticket.

I have to be quick to get to the meeting place to meet people. We make our way to the gig. Inside, the hall is a void waiting to be filled. An array of equiptment is spread before us and the stage is set. Plaid, the support act, come on. As with all support the limited number of people swelling around arn�t that responsive. But towards the end we�re into it a bit more but anticipating the live performance. I�ve heard Orbital are about the only outfit where the gigs are better than the albums and the albums are fucking wicked.

The darkend dance floor is swelling as they take stage. A brief �thank you� from the balder of the two brothers and we�re away on our beat laced voyage. I abandon my friends under the premise �fuck me, it�s orbital� and go to the front to get bombarded by the event.

Once at the front I decide to shout things out in case they release a live album. I hate to come across as an orbital annorack or anything but at the start of Satan CD 1 someone yells �bring on the fucking bon jovi!�. Some irate crowd member at the legedary 1966 Bob Dylan �royal albert hall� gig yells out �Judas!� and the event is seen by some as the defining moment in rock history and the birth of punk rock. I�m sure me yelling the word �eggs!� at Orbital will share the same effect and steer techno music into a whole new direction. After that I move on to yelling �milk� �bread� �wheat� etc hoping that the tracks are relesed and hoping I don�t sound like a drunken idiot.

I�m getting really sweaty as I dance with a bunch of doped up schizophrenics. Classic masterpieces such as the box and impact are turfed through as well as newer numbers. The defining Orbital lyric �flexible payment� is flashed over images of spinning dustbin lids and the whole event has much to take in. The sweat, the beats, the BO, the thirst, bumping into strangers, looking at the Hartnoll boys twiddling their nobs and doing their techno stuff. The lights flashing around, hoping their isn�t a powercut etc. You get the idea.

Short but sweet. 2 hours including the encore, a forced nessesity of all gigs. I would have liked to have heard �Out there somewhere� and some more stuff I knew but I suppose I should have seen them in 96. New material, same formula. No complaints.

I end up at someone�s house in Sheffield watching Scooby Doo until two in the morning.