Shang-a-Lang

Thirtysomething years ago my older sister went to a Bay City Rollers concert, joining thousands of screaming teenage girls one delirious

I wanted to go, but I was too young and doubtless would’ve cramped her style. Yesterday I finally got my chance. Eric Faulkner came to Hastings for a cozy gig tucked into a corner of a pedestrianised street in the America Ground. Seeing as the inspiration for the band’s name came from the States, you might say he was going back to his roots.

He joked about walkthrough traffic

then got down to business, a short but sweet set which included a traditional folk ballad about weavers with a few new verses thrown in. Call it the Tam Paton blues.

The highlight of the show was a cheerfully shambolic rendition of Bye Bye Baby, with “Rollerbabes” recruited on the spot as backup singers:

Should’ve told her that I can’t linger

There’s a wedding ring on my finger

Will he still be rolling it over and laying it down when he’s 64?

My wife and I had a great time, probably better than if we’d paid a small fortune to go see Dylan (not that one), who’d played just the night before in our neck of the woods. It was slightly surreal as we hurried off to catch the train home, Shang-a-Lang echoing down the mostly empty street behind us.