I used to play at a pub called the ‘Sir Colin Campbell’…

It was a fetid skankhole, rancid and depraved…(and that was the nice, loungey-type area). The décor consisted of puddles of vomit, blood and snakebite splashed about; and you were perpetually sneered at by the ill-tempered staff.

The bar, and more importantly, the ‘Live music’ area upstairs looked as if they had been shat out by the devil’s own pile-infested fudge-funnel after a particularly spicy Madras.

This area of foul repugnance was called ‘Lennon’s Bar.’ I used to like it ;)

I can’t remember the exact year that this incident occurred, but I can sure as shit remember the date. It was December 8th - the anniversary of John Lennon’s assassination.

Mid-gig, in my drunken, faux rock-star state, I launched into some blithering speech about what Lennon himself would make of the world today if he was alive, and wondered how he would feel knowing that this bar was in his sacred name.

I’m unsure as to whether it was the power of my message (highly doubtful), or just bad timing, but as soon as we had finished our performance, we were thanked, paid, and drunkenly hurried out into the night by the landlord…

Who then proceeded to burn the place to the ground.

I don’t know exactly what happened to him afterwards, other than the fact that he was rumbled for it. I’m sure justice prevailed.

However, in my humble opinion…what happened that night was not the real crime.

After the insurance money was collected, the brewery big nobs stepped in and the pub was ‘refurbished’…

They tried to make it all ‘hip’, ‘trendy’, ‘now’, ‘street’, ‘word’, and fuck knows what other disgraceful adjectives. The bar staff were like plastic, smiley cast-offs from daytime TV, and the smell of vomit was replaced with the glisten of chrome and varnish.

But worst of all…

The famous bar sign was replaced by a crap copy of Edvard Munch’s famous ‘Scream’ painting, and emblazoned all over the flourescent yellow walls was the pub's new ‘catchphrase’…

“It’s a SCREAM at the Campbell!”

Ye-cunting-gods. For the love of pine scented fuck-paste, I ask you. Etc.

They even had the sheer temerity to keep the name ‘Lennon’s Bar’, scrawled in some godforsaken neon, in an overpriced glittery shell that was dripping in arcade machines and Aftershock. The place was an abomination to student life and an insult to Lennon’s memory.

I’m sure that if you listen really hard, you can still hear the illustrious ex-Beatle spinning in his grave...I shudder to think what Sir Colin himself would make of it all.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Wed 11 Feb 2009, 9:16, 6 replies)

I had many a good night in the Campbell.
Being directly opposite the art department at Cov Poly as it was then. It was a foul place but they used to have a good dance night upstairs now and then. All I can really remember is that the bar staff were a bit surly.
( girlinthehole, Wed 11 Feb 2009, 9:27, closed)

It must've been about 15 years ago when it burned down...

I haven't been back for many a year, but the last time I was in there the dank hideousness was beginning to rear it's lovely head again and it wasn't quite so sparkly.

Thankfully.

Thee's no point in pouring perfume on a pig, so they say.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Wed 11 Feb 2009, 9:31, closed)

Fuck me, I'd forgotten about that
that happened when I was spending a year in a partner University in France. I loved the Campbell, came back for my final year & it was gone.
( thirdman Ia! Ia! R'lyeh Cthulhu ftagn! Ia! Ia! Mglui nafl, Wed 11 Feb 2009, 9:34, closed)

Ahh, The Campbell !!!
Remember it well... Well, I sort of remember up until the fifth or sixth pint, then it all goes a bit fuzzy...
( SpankyHanky, Wed 11 Feb 2009, 9:55, closed)

There was a pub like that when I grew up...
Except that it was already a Scream pub, had all the grottiness of a poper student place, decent local bands, and relatively cheap.

Then it closed, and reopened, no longer as a Scream pub, but an "expensive 'continental' lagers, and exposed wood and metal" pub.

Pretentious cunts.
(The Kwyjibo A big, dumb, balding North American ape., Wed 11 Feb 2009, 10:01, closed)

I know who burnt it down....
Not Sabs, but his brother....I also know why!
(Oil Slick, Wed 11 Feb 2009, 22:32, closed)