Frank Turner is on the road for a bit of a Q&A session to coincide with the release of his new book, The Road Beneath My Feat, and there is a pool of hardcore fans in a demarcated seating area squirming with unbearable tension as they hope to have their meticulously cliché-ridden questions answered back in a somewhat calculating manner by Turner – with script-like embellishments provided by Kerrang Magazine’s Ian Winwood.
It’s a pretty conventional Q&A setting; Turner and Winwood sitting up on the stage with copious selections of alcoholic beverages and obligatory Q&A water bottles, slugging them at exacting times during anecdotal segments for effect, creating an extra element of tension (you know the drill folks).
Turner reminisces about the early days with post-punk outfit Million Dead (with quintessential name-dropping beckoning automated cheers from the crowd), and the ups and downs he has had to endure to become the musician he is hitherto.
Turner is a celebrated musician who has built up a core fan-base and has been on the receiving end of much critical acclaim; however, excerpts from the book are as formulaic as they are yawn-fests.
It’s not like we are being invited into a world of derogatory, profanity-ridden tales of promiscuity a la The Dirt: The confessions of Motley Crue.
We learn how hard and demeaning it is to play the pub circuit, how lugging gear around dingy, beer and piss-infused clubs around the UK is not only hard on our olfactory senses, but also a strenuous workout on our poor backs, and we will learn of the trials and tribulations of the rise from the lower echelons of touring in a transit van to the magnanimous land of stadium rock.
There are signs of agitation towards the end of the night as the performance part of the book tour seems “crowd-pleasing” afterthought, and some of the punters seem quite dumbfounded as to what’s actually going down in the venue tonight.
A few laughs here and there, some contrivances, and an intimate performance toward the end keep the hardcore Turner fans more than sufficed.
Words/photos: Derek Robertson
