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From Smash Hits magazine, November 10-23, 1983, a review of ‘King Skirt’ - a King Kurt gig at the Fridge for which you had to wear a skirt (or frock) to gain admission.
I prepared for the gig at my place on Tulse Hill with two friends, Don and Al. We drank our usual cocktail (a litre of vodka, two litres of orange juice and a gram of whizz) and went to the George Canning (a.k.a. the Hobgoblin) for pre-gig drinks. We were thrown out.
The scene outside the Fridge was pandemonium.
The crowd had been gathering all afternoon, two or three hundred, I think. All the psychobillies etc. in frocks had become very drunk and frisky, and the police had come over to restore order.
They were being pelted with flour, eggs, shaving foam, strings of sausages etc, had lost the plot and were nicking anyone they could grab.
We didn’t have tickets, so tried to scuttle through the melee to the door. Al and I somehow made it, we just tottered through without even paying.
Sadly, Don got involved in the fracas outside and was nicked. The desk sergeant called him a ‘welsh bastard’, Don punched him, and was given a bit of a kicking, costing him a broken tooth and laddered tights.
He was released at 8 the next morning, to walk home through the rush hour crowds in his frock.
The centre pic in the review is me, taking a breather in the upstairs bar.
To be honest, I remember almost nothing of the gig, but I’m sure I had a great time.