The latest Pollokshaws Cadillac show is streaming here on Mixcloud.

Full playlist at the end of this wee essay

I always liked a seat if I was out for a drink. Standing at the bar or in a milling, jostling crowd made my prematurely old bones creak, back in the days when I actually went to pubs, as opposed to sipping a single malt on the sofa while watching repeats of the Great British Sewing Bee.

This occasionally led to misunderstandings. I remember being out for a drink in the early 80s at the (then only) upstairs Ubiquitous Chip bar (in Glasgow) with not-yet-rock-star Kevin McDermott, unaware that the Chip had briefly become a fairly hardline gay cruising joint, due to the closure of the venerable Vintners down on Clyde Street. Grabbing a table (why so many empty?) neither of us was aware of the standing/sitting etiquette prevailing in such venues, and there was an interlude of puzzled incomprehension as various men of a certain age attempted to press their affections on us. We made our excuses and left for the Curlers.

In those days, live gigs in cramped basement bars like The Fixx or clubs like The Venue or The Garage involved standing and, well, drinking for long periods of time. I remember the relief, after months of reviewing Barrowland shows from among the heaving masses, of getting a VIP seat (for The Cult, of all things) on the old raised danceband stage at the back of the hall.

Now, in these strange post-pandemic times when the need to gather in large crowds to remind ourselves of our youth is paramount, standing gigs or worse, outdoor festivals are attracting tens of thousands of aged punters with knees in better condition than mine. Not me, though, and for the same reasons I gave up motorcycling and embraced Morris Minor ownership: my legs have grown even more untrustworthy than of yore. A fence-falling incident with Hugo the dog seven months ago (broken ankle and toes) has left me with occasional unsteadiness, not to say imminent collapse. So any gig I go to will need to provide seating.

Which is fine for sedate acousticky concerts at the likes of Mareel in Shetland or the Armadillo in Glasgow. Which is where I’ve just remembered I’m going next month to see Icelandic prog/ambient superstars Sigur Ros. I might also bring a cushion.

On the other hand, or leg, I wonder how gig promoters in standing-only venues would feel about punters bringing their own seats, as happens with folding camping chairs at the kind of festival the aged and infirm regularly attend (Cambridge Folk Festival, Latiutude, etc). Or possibly a shooting stick, as favoured by grouse-killers of the aristocratic classes? Wouldn’t be good for the Barrowland dancefloor, that sharp pointy bit, right enough. an in the event of an argument…

“Sit down, I can’t see?”

“I am sitting down, pal…”

The Pollokshaws Cadillac, episode six: stream here on Mixcloud

Caldonia — Tam White and the Dexters

Come Throw yourself Under the Monstrous Wheels of the Rock’n’Roll Bandwagon as it Approaches Destruction — The Juggernauts

Baby’s Gone — Syndicate

Standing Proud — Carol Laula

You Tell Me — The Kaisers

Nothing to Be Done — The Pastels

Johnny — New Celeste

Where the World Is Thin — Kris Drever

Rose Of St Magnus — Ivan Drever

Squall Critical — Alex Cornish

You Burned the Tables On Me — Jack Bruce

Cape Wrath — Al Fleming

Rainy Skye — Al Fleming

While You’re Young — The Joy Hotel

18 Carat Love Affair — The Associates

Breathless — Long Earth

New Phone New Car New Man — The Countess of Fife

First Hand Arrogance — Brontës

Twisted — Annie Ross

I Name This Ship Survival — Cado Belle