THE AVERAGE WHITE BAND
First it goes for your ankles. Then it attacks your forehead.
THE AVERAGE WHITE BAND
Up From The Gaelic Ghetto
Steve Clarke
First it goes for your ankles. Then it attacks your forehead. The nape of your neck is the next victim, and finally your fingertips are sweating too.
The heat is perfumed by a not-unattractive blend of perspiratipn and assorted brands of cigarettes and scents. It’s enough to stifle a Turkish bath attendant, but the music transcends it all, and the temperature doesn’t seem to be worrying either crowd or band.
“The Average White Band with a few other people sitting on the perimeter,” is how Alan Gorrie put it a few days earlier. The occasion in question was Robbie McIntosh’s benefit concert at The Marquee. All donations, with a minimum of $2.50 required to get you into the club, go to Robbie’s widow, Edith.
“We’re responsible for seeing that Edith and the kid are well taken care of,” says Gorrie, the group’s bassist and a man as indubitably Scottish as a crate of Glenfiddich. “As well as this benefit, the whole of proceeds of the first gig on our British tour will also go to Robbie’s family.” r ^