YOU couldn't call York Barbican Centre a sexy venue. Whoever happens to be on stage, a suggestion of the badminton court remains. This is not to say that you fear a shuttlecock may hit a performer in the eye, even if Van Morrison did once carry on as if he had suffered such an impertinence.
No, the courts are hidden deep beneath the ranks of slot-in seating, along with the multi-purpose sports markings. Rumour has it the Barbican once turned down a concert by soul king James Brown as the venue was already booked. For badminton.
This, by the way, is not to disparage badminton. I used to play badly before deciding to take up being not very good at squash instead.
Besides, the Barbican Centre is one of York's treasures, even if there is little immediately endearing about the place, over which the dreary hand of civic responsibility lies. But a venue is just a space waiting to be filled and the Barbican stage has often been put to very rewarding use since 1991.
When I moved to York 12 years ago, this wasn't much of a city for bigger name bands or musical groups. You had to travel to Leeds to see the star attractions, or perhaps even to Manchester. The Free Trade Hall in Manchester was once one of the North's great venues for many years, and also incidentally a haunt of my teenage years. The first concert I saw there was John Mayall's Bluesbreakers in the early 1970s. After that the concerts rolled on: Jethro Tull, Yes, King Crimson - all the usual 1970s suspects.
There were excursions to rock festivals too, including the first Knebworth Festival (Van Morrison again). Memories from my London years include seeing Dire Straits play at a council estate festival in Deptford, watching Squeeze perform on the roof of a nearby pub, and trekking to Hammersmith to see Ry Cooder. Sliding across the years, this last concert remains one of my best musical memories - sparkling brighter than The Rolling Stones at Wembley.
Moving to York, one child eventually became three and concerts were more difficult. Yet the Barbican kept me going, notably with an early Van Morrison gig. The Irishman has been back twice more, first grumpily and then sublimely.
Other favourite Barbican gigs include sax player Andy Shephard, Elvis Costello, Jools Holland's Rhythm And Blues Orchestra, and two appearances by the great Richard Thompson.
Watching Thompson last Friday night gave rise to the thoughts that clutter this column. As Thompson's beautiful, muscular music echoed out and filled every last pocket of air in the venue, it was quite possible to forget you were sitting on an uncomfortable seat some feet above a badminton court.
Great Barbican moments I missed include Tom Jones, Steve Earle (shame on me) and Eddie Izzard (shame on me times two). Treats on the horizon include the comedians Graham Norton and The League Of Gentlemen, along with Jools Holland, back again at the end of the year for another of his party nights.
So, yes, the Barbican Centre has been good for York. People might sometimes moan. Well, it has been known in York. But look, here we have a venue that brings great names to this city. Surely that can only be for the good. So treasure the Barbican, before some killjoy council apparatchik decides to turn it into a boring conference centre. And if that ever happens, the music truly will have died.
ALL OF the above is not to suggest the Barbican is York's only venue. There is plenty of music around, particularly classical, though for jazz you have to travel, especially to Leeds which buzzes with the lovely stuff. Fibbers is a keystone venue too, of course, and while a rare visitor, I've had some great nights there: John Martyn, Glenn Tilbrook, Eliza Carthy. All here in York.
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