If you know someone who’s seen Goldie Lookin' Chain in action, chances are they’ll have raved at you, giggling, describing a cross between So Solid Crew and The Streets, with more than a dash of Morris Minor and the Majors added in.
The Dance Tent was the perfectly ironic venue for the 16 or so members of GLC. They came on to roars of approval (“This isn’t Glastonbury. It’s Live Aid and I’m Freddie Mercury!”). They looked out to see a number of poster boards bearing their slogans like “An ounce don’t come free” and “Spirit of ’96 still peaking” – nice publicity stunt, boys.
They are best described, if somewhat unkindly, as “chav-rap” from the arse-end of the world: Newport. They’re Eminem’s less coherent cousins, Mike Skinner’s stoned little brothers. They’re what the Beastie Boys could have been if they’d never discovered Buddha.
Simply put, they’re a comedy act. They sing the praises of things like Ford Sierras and jewellery from Argos (mostly dope, though…). Along the way, everyone found themselves with lines and catchphrases stuck in their heads, to be recited to anyone who has also seen them. If you’ve seen them, you’re part of an elite club. The best of these without doubt has to be the charming refrain from their closing number, “Your Mother Has A Penis”.
The tunes aren’t memorable, but that’s the thing about them; they’re like seeing four rude boys crammed into a Peugeot 205 with a spoiler and huge alloys cruising around the one-way system in your town. You don’t remember the tune, you just remember a thumping beat and laughing hysterically at the fools. Magnificent fun, and a real crowdpleaser.