ONE EVENING WITH THE TRIFFIDS – Part 1
Kunstencentrum, Hasselt, Belgium – Friday 23rd June

Prologue - An Evening With The Triffids?

Forget Cobain, Strummer or Curtis. The rock and roll loss that still cuts the deepest for me by far is David McComb. I still vividly remember reading the news of his death on Teletext one morning and sitting stunned, disbelieving, instead of getting ready for work. However as a remote fan (with a young family), life goes on and it was something that got put aside, never properly squared off. 

The news of the three June shows brought this fan’s regrets that the man’s talent was all but lost to us back to the surface. The announcement of the shows just seemed to emphasise the loss.

Simply put I was struggling to cope with the notion of the Triffids without David McComb. Add in the fact that even if I DID want to go I didn’t think I would actually be able to make it for practical reasons (family, money, time) and for a short while I was quite down about the whole thing.  

However gradually over the next few days I got used to the idea of the tribute and the impractical notion of trying to get to at least one show started to take root, even if it would have to be financed entirely by the credit card.  

The series of events which led to me stalling a left hand-drive car in the inner ring-road of a small town in Belgium had started to unfold…

Travelogue #1
Fife to Hasselt (Friday 0815-1630)

Apart from a 10 minutes comfort break over a decade ago, before last weekend, I’d never set foot in Belgium.

However even with a less than shaky grasp of Belgian geography and the fact that the Triffids show was being held in a place I’ve never heard of, Hasselt, the wonder of the internet allows practical arrangements to be made and a route to the show planned via Ryan Air and Hertz car hire. When Friday 23rd dawns it’s my task to get from Fife to Hasselt in time for a 7 o’clock show.

The only one (cheap) flight per day from Scotland to Belgium inconveniently leaves from the other side of the country. However, getting out of the country proves to be a cinch. The journey to Prestwick is so routine I don’t need any of my built-in margin of error and end up sitting around the terminal for 90 minutes listening to Sonic Youth.

I’m not a natural traveller and the whole notion of me leaving home one morning, flying to another country then driving to a place I’ve never heard of by a set time seems preposterous. In the grand scheme of things my one big fear is that the flight is delayed or worse, cancelled. But thankfully it leaves on time and, apart from a few bumps on the way down, the airborne section of the trip proves to be a comfortable journey for this far from frequent flier. In fact the pilot even shaves a few minutes off the expected arrival time.

Crossing Belgium from Charleroi to Hasselt proves slightly trickier as the hire car is the first left hand drive vehicle of my motoring career. That means that I have to combat 26 years of conditioning to attempt to change gear with my right hand. And that is to prove, occasionally, shall we say, challenging.

The journey itself, after a tentative start, is straightforward. However, after having driven for over 100km on the motorway without having to change gear, entry into Hasselt leads to a disgraceful dip in driving standards and a fairly comedic circumnavigation of the inner ring road, the highlight of which is stalling the car at a set of traffic lights.

Finding a parking space is also something of a pantomime since the hotel parking looks inaccessible due to the bomb site conditions out the back. (And yep, it’s the same bombsite outside the venue itself). When I eventually check in I find in fact the parking is accessible but having finally found somewhere else to park (at the third attempt!) I have no desire to get back in that car before I have to

Hasselt
(Friday 1630-1905)

After wandering past the aforementioned bombsite, yet somehow managing to overlook the small inconspicuous venue, there’s time for a stroll round the pleasant historic town centre. I also manage to get some food and meet up with some members of the Triffids’ forum for a couple of beers. We talk rock and roll and the World Cup and soon enough it’s off back to the Kunstencentrum for the main event.

Kunstencentrum
(Friday 1905-2200)

The doors aren’t open when we turn up and a bit of a crowd is starting to develop. The venue is somewhat unprepossessing – it looks like a house in a residential street with a banner draped on a wall!

Once we get inside though we discover that the building is split into a number of spaces. all of which host an impressive collection of Triffids’ paraphernalia, such as posters, photos, scans of Dave’s early Triffids’ diaries etc.

First of all there’s a room with a huge screen showing Triffids’ videos and TV performances. One of my few regrets of the evening is that I didn’t spend longer in here.

Space two is the venue itself – it doesn’t look like it will hold 400 people despite being supplemented by a precarious walkway round the room. Off the walkway is a gallery with display cases containing the records and CD sleeves.

Space three through the back is more of a chill-out area with a big screen projecting images of the Triffids to a McComb sound-track. The event T-shirts are also on sale here (and little do I realise at this stage that the young lad who sells me a T will join the band for Field of Glass later on!)

Finally, off an open air courtyard, is a media room set up for the evening’s first formal event – the Question and Answer session.

Alsy, Graham and Mark Snarski, along with long term Triffids’ associate Julian, are the prime interviewees on the Friday and there’s an enjoyable 40 minutes or so of recollections, banter and the odd new titbit.

Thereafter it’s time to enjoy the musical part of the evening in the main hall with people literally hanging off the balconies …

 To be continued

Part 2

      
 

 

 

 

 



 

 

Links for this show

The Triffids index

The Triffids
Belgie Kunstencentrum, Hasselt

Domino Records - Triffids
Domino Mart