Official Manchester Music Tours
The tours have been organised by Ed Glinert, Manchester’s leading historian and long-time music writer, co-author of Fodor’s Rock ‘n’ Roll Traveller books, and launch production editor for Mojo.
There is one more FREE date, but please do book on Eventbrite so that we can monitor numbers.
These tours start at the HOME arts centre.
Ed Glinert tells New Manchester Walks that he will be most happy to accept a few shekels, or even better, a note, pressed into his hand at the end of the tour if you think he’s done a good job. If you think he hasn’t, he might pay you!
Now here’s the set list
* Tony Wilson’s pad.
* The Boardwalk, where Oasis made their debut.
* The Hacienda.
* Elbow’s “hole in my neighbourhood”.
* The Free Trade Hall, where Bob Dylan was booed and the Sex Pistols invented the modern Manchester music scene.
* The basement record shop where Morrissey had a job – yes! – for about five minutes, resulting in a depression that inspired those great lines from “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now”.
* The Ritz, where the first Smiths gig took place.
* The Hidden Gem church where Tony Wilson’s funeral took place.
What does it sound like?
Forget Memphis and Merseybeat, Manchester is music city, a venue to rank alongside New Orleans or Notting Hill, a factory of superior song-making and stirring soundscapes courtesy of Joy Division, the Fall, New Order, Buzzcocks, Happy Mondays, John Cooper Clarke, the Stone Roses, 808 State and, of course, the Smiths, all spinning around the legend of the Hacienda, the world’s hippest nightclub, chicer than the Copacabana, sexier than Studio 54, cooler than the Cavern or Cream.
At the centre of the city’s beat was Factory Records, a record label to rival Motown and Chess with a business model that could be compared only to British Leyland or the South Sea Bubble. But it’s not about Mammon or the man, it’s about the music, the songs, and what songs! – “Dead Souls”, “William, It was Really Nothing”, “Rowche Rumble”, “Time Goes By So Slow” – the list, like the road, goes on forever. (Jon the Postman’s versions of “Louie Louie” certainly did).
“Manchester, so much to answer for,” as the man sang.