Tag: alcohol

Madness Live in Sacramento: It Rhymes with October

On By D. TrullIn SSM Reviews & OpinionLeave a comment

As far as Madness booking operations are concerned, America has somehow become the proverbial London bus stop. You wait here bloody ages for a tour, and then along come two or three at once. Remember how we had to tough it out for 12 long years without Madness between April 2012 and May 2024? Now here they are again, just one year later! Us colonists are gonna get spoiled by all this lavish attention, I tell ya.

Since I had decided against a pilgrimage to Minehead for the House of Fun 2025 revival, I was eager to jump on the chance to catch this west coast jaunt. This Carolina boy had been looking for an excuse to return to California and get some In-N-Out burgers. I chose the Sacramento date because it seemed the easiest logistically, and I was intrigued by the brand new venue, Channel 24, scheduled to open a month before Madness would arrive. This gig would turn out to be unexpectedly significant as the first Madness performance since Suggs quit drinking earlier this year.

Donald Trull is proud to be in Sacramento

For the 2024 U.S. tour, Stateside Madness arranged well-received pre-show meetups in New York and Boston. Alas, we didn’t manage to repeat those Madmeets this year, mainly because SSM bossman Poly Collins wasn’t in attendance. I lack the skills to arrange social things with Poly’s flair. But I had the pleasure of spending the evening with our affable west coast ambassador, Al Warmerdam, and his charming daughter, Allie, and we said hello to Bonnie London and other California fans.

Channel 24 is an amazing midsize concert venue, designed to fill a void between clubs and arenas in the Sacramento market. Set on an unassuming corner in a neighborhood on the fringes of downtown, a short walk from the state capitol, Channel 24’s angular edifice is marked by a sleek digital marquee. The spacious general admission auditorium still has that new venue smell, with swanky Pergo-style flooring in place of your typical cement slab. What better way to break in those laminate woodgrain panels than a horde of dancing Madness fans?

After an opening set of vintage reggae and soul records spun by DJ Harry Duncan, the lights went down and it was showtime. In contrast with the magisterial Star Wars main title theme they chose last year, Madness took the stage to the blaring sugar-rush assault of “Merrily We Roll Along,” better known as the Looney Tunes theme. How utterly perfect. Somehow this entrance cue has Chrissy Boy’s fingerprints all over it.

From there we were off and running into the familiar opening movement: “One Step Beyond,” “Embarrassment,” “The Prince.” Like last year, only five official members of Madness were present, with Mez Clough once again doing a fine job on drums in place of Woody. The Channel 24 sound system is a beauty, giving us defined separation of Mike’s mellifluous keys, Mark’s steady bass, Chrissy’s hot licks and Lee’s assorted noises. But my ears and eyes homed in on the main man, the geezer of leisure, Mr. G. Suggs McPherson.

The first notable thing about Suggs was his eyewear. In place of his usual dark shades, he was sporting thick horn-rims that were giving “grandad reads his Sunday Times.” Suggs was back in his old Ray-Bans for the rest of the U.S. shows, so I think maybe he simply forgot to switch out of his Coke-bottle prescription glasses before stepping onstage in Sacramento. Whatever the reason, getting to see Suggsy’s eyes felt emblematic on this special evening when our man must have been feeling a bit exposed and vulnerable.

The second notable thing about Suggs was he sounded fabulous. Voice in fine form, lyrics delivered accurately and on time. Even as he spouted his well-worn intros and stage patter, he was more focused and present. Suggs is now a changed man, emerging from a chronic mental fog. What a beautiful moment to behold.

After the first few numbers, Suggs remarked that they were sounding pretty good, considering this was the first time they’d performed in six months. Thommo stepped to the mic and added in a proud timbre, “And there’s something new!” He outstretched both arms toward Suggs admiringly. “It rhymes with October,” Lee intoned with a wink.

Suggs shrugged off the salute and never said anything himself about sobriety. He didn’t need to. All he had to do was sing. Suggs announced they were going to pull out a few oldies they hadn’t played in a while, which proved to be “Lovestruck,” Jimmy Cliff’s “The Harder They Come,” and “Grey Day.” These three gems seemed to prompt the most excitement as measured in applause and fan comments afterward. 

For me, “Lovestruck” was the highlight of the evening. Suggs shaded the Barson/Thompson composition with new meanings: what was once the rollicking comeback single for the revitalized Madness of 1999 now works as reflections from a recovering alcoholic, spilling out his deepest feelings about his past. It was a truly powerful rendition I’ll never forget.

The one big cock-up of the show occurred with “Wings of the Dove,” which went sideways after the first verse and careened to a halt. This is where I wish I had a recording to verify what exactly was said. But as I recall and understood it, Bedders was the one who derailed things. Barson admonished him like a bemused headmaster disappointed in his star pupil, with words to the effect of “The idear is, we’re supposed to stay togevva!” Mark grinned sheepishly, then Suggs rallied the troops, saying something like, “Come on, we gotta get it right tonight. It’s the 12-inch extended version.” And they took the celebratory song from the top. The exchange made it seem that Suggs was putting in extra effort (and was probably glad it wasn’t him who goofed).

There was another entertaining bit of theatre for my perennial favorite interlude, Chris’s Showtime. He told a crestfallen Channel 24 crowd that he’d decided not to sing tonight (awww…), and was trying to arrange some sort of audience call-and-response when he got interrupted by Lee’s chattering. Chrissy exploded and gave up, returning the mic to Suggs in disgust. “I guess it’ll be separate dressing rooms for them two after this,” Suggs said, then had to proclaim it Showtime himself. “House of Fun,” “Baggy Trousers,” “Our House,” “It Must Be Love,” you know the drill.

The encores held one last surprise as special guest guitarist Clive Langer accompanied the band on “Madness.” What a treat to spot their esteemed erstwhile producer, whom I’d only seen before at House of Fun 2015 with his Clang Group. One certain fan quipped that Clive may have tagged along on the U.S. trip as Suggs’s sponsor and support, being in recovery himself. Could be.

So then the nutty train rolled along to “Night Boat to Cairo,” and the Sacramento faithful went home happy with our new Uncle Sam T-shirts, tired feet and happy memories. My only grumble about the evening was the complete expungement of Theatre of the Absurd presents C’est La Vie from the setlist. I can understand that the band is switching into hits mode, aligning with the Hit Parade tour and compilation planned for late 2025, but come on. If they’re going to include “Mr. Apples,” they should at least keep “If I Go Mad” in rotation.

Al Warmerdam is proud to have the setlist

But that’s enough fan whinge. After seeing Madness in New York last year, I told myself I would be content if that were the final time I ever saw them. Such has proven not to be the case. God bless Madness for taking care of American fans, and God bless Suggs for taking care of himself.

And a final word to those repulsive, loathsome online cretins who have slagged off Suggs, who have jeered him as some sort of hypocrite and questioned his sincerity. You are not fans. You are not even human. You can all go eat a bag of dicks.

Stage photos by Justine Willard/Channel 24

Suggs Says No More Alcohol

On By D. TrullIn Madness News & InfoLeave a comment

It’s no secret that our man Suggs has been known to enjoy his drink a bit too much, from time to time. If not incessantly. The subject has been explicitly addressed in songs like “Lovestruck” and “Alcohol,” not to mention the way Suggs still manages to bungle the verses of “My Girl” after 45 years of practice. Or heaven forbid, when he dares to tackle a new song onstage without the aid of a teleprompter. So it was unfortunate that the news that Suggs has stopped drinking broke around the time of April 1, 2025. It surely seemed a cruel April Fool’s joke to propose that the jolly old Dean Martin of the surviving 2-Tone pantheon would conceivably stumble his slurring way onto the wagon.

But this was not a dream. Not a hoax. Not an imaginary story. In a candid interview on the BBC’s Headliners with Nihal Arthanayake, Suggs got as serious as he ever gets (which is to say, in between wisecracks and asides about his wife Anne keeping tabs on him via walkie-talkies) about his admission of alcoholism and decision to make this change in his life at age 64. The brief US tour in May 2025 marks the debut of the newly sober Suggs, and I’m excited to witness that first show in Sacramento. Congratulations to you, Mr. McPherson!

The full audio recording of the Headliners interview is available on BBC.com and as a podcast episode. It’s highly recommended listening for all Madness fans, and much more illuminating than the snippets that have appeared in press article. Below are a few highlights, starting with the cheeky way Suggs brought up the topic.

Funny enough, one of the big revelations of the last couple of months is I gave up drinking, which has sent shockwaves around the whole borough. There was actually a day of mourning with all the off-licenses and local pubs. They had a procession dressed in black and they had a big beer bottle in a hearse with R.I.P., it went past my house. It was very sad. I had to close the curtain, there’s a quick word by the missus on the walkie-talkie to shut the curtain. [Laughs.]

In all seriousness, yeah, I’ve been drinking for 40-odd years and it just sort of, it ran its course. Which is strange because it’s been so intertwined in every element of my life, you know. When I think as a kid, that part of our culture, certainly in those days, my mum worked in pubs, I was hanging around in pubs, you know, you met girls in pubs, you play pool, darts, weddings, funerals, birthdays, and you know, going to see bands then, leading on for that, and getting gigs, the only gigs we could get were in pubs. So it’s a bit of a sort of mind blow, and I haven’t had a drink for a little while, passing all these sort of ghostly places that I used to, you know, sit about getting drunk in is kind of odd.

… To be perfectly honest, yeah, you know, I’ve been a bit sort of jocular about it. But no, it did get a bit serious, yeah. I mean, it was alcoholism, and it’s a horrible thing to admit to yourself. Because you’re like, I was a drunk, you know. “I was a good drinker, I was a bad drinker.” And then you know, my family started to suggest I was getting a bit, you know… but I tell you that’s the downside of giving up drinking, is you start looking through the backs of magazines buying walkie-talkies because you’re bored you’ve got nothing on. [Laughs.] But, no, it was a bit of both, yeah, medically I was getting a bit, I didn’t realise how alcohol affects your brain as well as your body, you know. And I went to see an addiction therapist and he just said, “You’ve got to stop,” basically.

So, it was a sort of fait accompli, which was hard, but it’s mostly habitual, you know. It’s, any addiction, it’s different, you know, it’s hard to say when it stops being fun. You know what I mean? It was fun. You know, I’ve got so many great memories, you know, with the band, especially the sort of occupational hazard, but all that euphoria and sort of wildness, which comes with being slightly oblivious. [Laughs.]

But then, you know, it stops being fun. And for about five years, maybe more, it kind of stopped being fun. So it was just tough. 

… And Anne said she felt it was a bit like those recently, when they found out as babies, they’ve been swapped in the hospital. She thought, I’ve been swapped with somebody else since I stopped drinking. [Laughs.] … Because when you’re drinking too much, it just becomes your sole, you know, raison d’être, and just being uninterested, basically, in anything other than myself and sittin’ there getting drunk. … I mean, I can say, most normal people, you can have a nice drink like you said, go to the pub after you’ve done a bit of work. But this was just becoming sort of daily occurrence and it was just wearing and boring really. I became boring. That’s the sort of main word, and now I’m not, apparently. [Laughs.]

… I mean, it was a physiology, you know, like you get older and you can’t cope with probably the amounts that I used to drink when I was younger anyway. And the hangovers were getting so, you know, like two days, sort of wiped out of your life, all that kind of, you know, stuff that you hear. But it’s amazing, you know, I got involved with people in addiction therapy and just how much of it there is around, you know, really is a massive thing. And it’s just that thin line between drinking socially and drinking unsocially, and kind of ruining in your life, basically, which is where I was sort of headed. 

… It is very uncomfortable, yeah [to call himself an alcoholic]. And as I say, you put that off ’cause it does mean that you’re gonna have to stop. And I just remember the relief when I first said that word. Because it’s just, it’s so not me, you know. I wasn’t. And I didn’t really get into any really negative or destructive kind of elements or life. But it was just, it’s just when the drink becomes more important than anybody or anything else. That’s what was happening. You know, I’m so glad I did. It’s kind of like a way, a bit like, I think Oscar Wilde said when he lost his libido and he said, “It’s like being unshackled from a lunatic.” [Laughs.] Kind of like, he’s just got his thing in your ear. “Come on, let’s have a drink. Come on, only one more. Come on, let’s go out,” you know, whatever, whatever. It just goes on and on and on. 

[The rest of the band is aware of the news.] Yeah, yeah. And in fact, a couple of the others packed up a little while ago. And so many of my friends without naming names about my age in this industry. I mean, loads, I could tell you loads, all packed up around being 60. And I think that, you know, 40 years, I didn’t miss out, you know, really didn’t. I did, you know, every single thing that one can associate with, you know, drunken lunacy. I’m lucky to tell the tale, really. And it’s funny, it’s just like a kind of new beginning in some, without being sort of getting too righteous about it. For me, anyway.