Transvision Vamp at Epic Studios Norwich

Wendy James, teenage memories and a rather excellent night in Norwich

There are certain bands that take you straight back to a particular time in your life. For me, Transvision Vamp are one of those bands. Or, to be more precise, Wendy James is.

Wendy adorned my bedroom wall as a teenager. Their 1989 album Velveteen remains one of my favourite albums of the decade, and was possibly the last LP I bought before making the rather stupid decision to replace my vinyl collection with CDs. Thirty-odd years later, I’ve been buying it all back again. Financial genius, clearly.

So when Transvision Vamp announced a tour, I had to go.

Finding some willing victims

My first port of call was the usual WhatsApp gig group. Nobody fancied it. Their loss.

I widened the search to Facebook, and three friends jumped at the chance: Louise and Amanda, both of whom I’ve known for over thirty years, and Rob, with whom I reckon my last proper night out was in Edinburgh over New Year 2004/2005. That’s nearly twenty-two years between drinks. Some friendships clearly don’t need much maintenance.

Norwich, Wetherspoons and a slightly delayed departure

The previous evening I’d been in Camden watching Cast, and the railway disruption that followed was still causing problems. We left Ipswich a little later than planned but arrived in Norwich in good time.

First stop was Wetherspoons for cheap and cheerful food, drinks and a couple of hours catching up. In Rob’s case we could probably have done with another week. Then it was an Uber to Epic Studios. We missed the support act, but tonight was always about one band. And, if I’m being truthful, one particular blonde.

Would they still have it?

There’s always some apprehension at a nostalgia gig. Would the songs have aged well? Would the singer still have the voice? Would it be worth it?

The answer to every question was a resounding YES. Transvision Vamp were absolutely superb. The band were tight, the performance had real bite and Wendy James’s voice was immense throughout.

This was no exercise in turning up, playing a few old hits and collecting a payday. There was energy, attitude and a real sense that everyone on stage was enjoying themselves. Songs such as Baby I Don’t Care, Born to Be Sold and Landslide of Love sounded terrific. Hearing the music of Velveteen again was particularly special for me.

Wendy James and the audience demographic

I did take a moment to look around the audience. I’d estimate roughly a fifty-fifty split between men and women, with a considerable proportion of the men around my age.

I suspect a fair number of those gentlemen had done things while looking at pictures of Wendy James back in 1988 that their mothers would have been thoroughly disappointed to discover. Or was that just me? Moving swiftly on.

Wendy remains a fantastic frontwoman, with all the attitude and stage presence you’d hope for. But she doesn’t need to rely on nostalgia: her voice was the star of the evening. Strong, distinctive and full of character, it carried the songs brilliantly.

The last train wins again

Unfortunately, railway timetables don’t always appreciate musical enthusiasm. With the previous night’s disruption still fresh in my mind, we left a little early to make sure we caught the last train home.

Which brings me to something I’ve been saying increasingly often: why can’t gigs start earlier? Doors at six, band on at seven, finished by nine and everyone home and tucked up in bed before ten. Perfect. I realise this makes me sound like an old man, but I’m comfortable with that.

The verdict

What a fantastic evening. Great company, a few drinks, plenty of laughs and a band who exceeded every expectation.

Transvision Vamp could have relied on affection for those records, but delivered a genuinely powerful live performance. Sharing it with three friends I’ve known for decades made it even better.

Would I go again? Without hesitation. Although next time, Wendy, any chance of a matinee? Some of us have trains to catch.