"And I've never known a girl like you before" etc etc. Thanks to Edwyn Collins for the priceless lyric that I use as the title of this rant, in my opinion totally unrelated to the rest of the song which is ok, but not one of his best.

It is however a lyric that is constantly on my mind. Just what is he getting at? Just who is he getting at? What does it matter? Who gives a toss? Well, I give a toss, because there's something in that line that strikes a chord with me, something that keeps coming back to haunt.

Ha ah! you might say, dp is paranoid because his role as wannabe protest singer has been undermined. Yes, maybe, but then again I actually kind of agree with the statement, so if I may be so bold as to re-define it: there are too many people taking up stage space with nothing to say. That's what Collins means isn't it?

In retrospect, before I sound like some student baffled by an English Literature A Level question, I gotta say that Collins has had his last name drop right here and now. The important thing to consider is, if there are too many people on stage with nothing to say, am I one of them?

Maybe ... and when considering that, I think back to an occasion two summers ago when I was stage managing and compering a live music and fun day event in Tameside for an audience of around 5,000 people. Half way through the show, a young girl came up to me side stage and asked if she could address the crowd and say a few words. My first reaction was one of precious event organiser, Mr Responsibility, Mr 'No Way Jose' and be on yer bike! But then after asking her to sit to one side for a few minutes whilst I retrieved my head from up my arse, I asked this young girl to tell me why it was so important for her to gatecrash the gig.

"I want to thank everybody for helping me raise money for my cancer appeal" she replied. I looked at her. Without jumping to conclusions, this girl had a get up and go determined focus which, combined with a hint of emotion in her voice, left me open mouthed and wondering if she herself was stricken with the disease. She wore what appeared to be a head scarf or bandana. I took a deep breath. All through the day I had been chasing time and making decisions, directing traffic too and from stage and keeping a team of some 50 people happy and up for the show. And yet here right before me, was the most difficult decision of all, or so it appeared at the time. There was no way I was supposed to let anyone on the stage other than the artistes and stage hands who had been employed to work, and yet there was no way I I could stand in this young girl's way.

"What's your name" I asked.

"Shelley Brocklehurst"

"Ok, not a problem" I replied. "Come back in about 20 minutes when we have a break between bands and I'll get you on".

Now it's strange, but it seems that those of us on stage have to be full of our own self-importance in order to believe in what we do enough to hold and sway an audience. And on this day, I was totally convinced that by running this show we were making a wonderful statement that boldly told all who were listening that throwaway fun for all the family is the answer to everything. Sharing a day like this with family is life. It is enlightenment. It is everything that we believe in, it is our reason for being. Our role is to entertain and nothing more, and yet, here she was, about to leave me questioning my every minute on stage for the rest of my life.

She returned. I was nervous. I wanted so much for the whole world to just stop. Just stop ... and listen. She took the mic. "I'd just like to thank the people of Tameside and Manchester ... thousands of pounds ... cancer appeal". And then that was that. Thousands applauded, whilst probably a few hundred licked their ice creams, supped their beer and shouted at the kids totally oblivious to her words. She was on stage for a matter of less than 30 seconds; she'd given the whole day and annual event for me, a new perspective.

I do often question my role on stage. It is not as important as I sometimes like to think it is, and yet the fact that I am often humbled by people with inspirational stories to tell and words to recite, is a feeling that helps me to get up there and tell my stories.

I remember Shelley Brocklehurst and I keep an eye on the papers for her name. This link HERE hopefully will continue to carry a recent news item that tells of her life and her continuing fund raising activities.

"And I've never known a girl like you before" etc etc ... frankly speaking, it's not the greatest song chorus lines to end with, but it does have alongside it one of the most priceless lyrics that will haunt many a protest singer for many a year. "Too many protest singers, not enough protest songs ..."

© darren poyzer 6/5/03