Noel Gallagher at the airport; Shaun Ryder at a hot dog cart
At first glance, it certainly looks like they’re thinking “Noel who?”
A photo of former Oasis guitarist-singer Noel Gallagher at the baggage claim of Palm Beach International Airport has been making the rounds on British tabloid media.
(All these years later and the tabs still lose their mind over a Gallagher… )
Tabloids covering Noel Gallagher
Seriously, guys?
In the photo, Gallagher appears to be playing a solo show on his acoustic to the response of some oblivious travelers, who look away. That photo took off like wildfire, especially among the tabs.
But Joe Capozzi is setting the record straight. Joe, a freelance writer and former colleague of mine at the Palm Beach Post, put together an amazing piece around the truth of the photo.
I’m not going to ruin all of it for you here—I will say that the picture taker and the people in the photo aren’t who you think they are.
(Also, the article featured in the screenshot above, on the website Lad Bible—apt British tab if there ever was one—is factually wrong. He wasn’t playing Tampa that night, he was playing the iThink Music Amphtheatre nearby. I should know—I was at the show.)
Shaun Ryder and Sabretts: A combo never to be forgotten
It led me to think about amazing stories around music—when I told my wife Tanya about it, she said: “Well, don’t forget about Shaun Ryder and the hot dog cart!”
Yes, another tale of a Mancunian musician in Florida.
This was around 2012—Shaun Ryder had reconvened Happy Mondays, the band featured prominently in the movie 24-Hour Party People. The Mondays had built their popularity with a combination of impossibly catchy music and an insanely hedonistic reputation. If you know Ibiza and you know the Mondays, you know what happened.
See also: Becoming a fan of Avenged Sevenfold?
This was many, many Bez dances after Ibiza.
Tanya and I decided to head down to Fort Lauderdale’s Revolution—the headliner was Psychedelic Furs (Richard Butler was in amazing voice and style, never doubt). The Mondays were the second act of three, and it was kind of a shambolic set (Shaun at that point had to read his lyrics off prompters).
Between the Mondays’ set and the Furs’ set, we head outside for some air—Revolution could get stuffy at times. And who do we see, sitting on the curb next to the familiar yellow and blue umbrella of a Sabretts hot dog cart?
Shaun Ryder, munching down on a hot dog.
Noel is the dot in the middle.
The only true reaction we could muster was pure bewilderment. It is imprinted in our minds, a Norman Rockwell portrait of bizarre post-rock indulgence.
Gallagher’s picture last week was less that memory, more of a guy who has carved out a decent career for himself after being in one of the biggest bands in the world. His set with his band, High Flying Birds, was top-notch. (I adore the title song to his band’s new LP, Council Skies.)
A friendship built on a great show is rarely forgotten
Joe is among those friends with whom I have a connection through a concert, which I have found to be the most easily remembered.
In his case, it was a Black Rebel Motorcycle Club show at yet another crowded, stuffy Fort Lauderdale club, this time the Culture Room.
The show was 100 percent jammed, but Joe—whom I’d come to know as the Post’s consistently superb Florida Marlins beat writer—had these friends: A couple from England who refused to be deterred.
“We’ve been to Glastonbury, come with us!”
And we proceeded to burrow through the crowd to the front of the stage and had an amazing time.
I don’t believe I ever saw that couple again, but for the life of me, I thought I had when Travis played the House of Blues in Orlando some time later.