WHEELS ON FIRE
Wembley Arena, Saturday June 29, the penultimate night of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s last ever UK tour. Baz Mills, frontman with openers Massive Wagons, is quietly watching the second support band, Status Quo, from the side of the stage.
All of a sudden he’s being towered over by Skynyrd’s keyboard player, Peter Keys – a bejewelled, silver-jacketed bear of man in a cowboy hat, with a long plait draped down his back. He looks like a disco Mafioso boss. And he’s delighted to see Mills.
“Holy mother of fuck, man, you guys are fucking something else!” he roars in broad East Coast tones. “What a fucking voice! You remind me of Bon Scott, your band is fuckin’ killer, and I hate fuckin’ everything! You guys are fuckin’ awesome, man!”
Keys gives Mills a big bear hug and shakes his hand. “Fuck me, man, you guys are something else…”
Back in the Wagons dressing room, Mills recounts the incident to his bandmates. Had he spoken to Keys before?
“No!” Mills exclaims, incredulously. “He’s the first Skynyrd guy I spoke to. I think in Glasgow he watched our soundcheck, and he must’ve watched tonight. Lovely to hear that though. That was very cool.”
Massive Wagons are on a roll, if you’ll pardon the pun. Having formed 10 years ago in Carnforth (a tiny Lancashire town “that no one’s heard of”), and spent most of that time firmly under the radar, their latest album went to No.16 in the UK album chart. The album chart. Against all the Nicki Minajs and Ed Sheerans that also made the Top 20 that week, it felt like a real victory for rock – an unexpected flash of optimism for grassroots movements in an age where they can feel all but dead.
