|Dad and I pressing Shock Troops, 2010|
I can’t believe you’re 40. It only feels like yesterday that I was sitting in my pyjamas, aged 3, writing H.McFaull on the Spanish release of Runnin’ Riot in pencil, to claim it as my property. You know, the one with the orange cover. It was about a year later that G.McFaull added herself to this presumed ownership. We had no idea.
No idea at all really what it meant that you lot were a band. I mean we knew, but at that point, I knew you’d never been on Top of the Pops and that was all that mattered.
And now, well just look at you. Look at how you’ve grown. It’s funny, it’s taken being away from home to really get any sort of perspective on the impact you’ve had on people’s lives. I hope that you’re all starting to finally get it.
But I hear the stories you don’t, the ones people tell me because they’re too excited at meeting you to be able to get the words out. Or they see me at the bar later, and tell me of how your music has got them through some tough times, and that being here tonight, to see the band that has been there throughout their whole lives, well, it’s the most important thing in the world to them. Do you know how proud that makes me?
The best bit about it though is that you are all still the same people to me that you were when I was wearing the German tour Tshirt as a nightie reaching my feet. And the weddings, the babies and the disgusting amount of Jack Daniels that we’ve all been through are just the tip of the iceberg.
Thank you for being the best family that a punk girl could grow up in. Thank you for all the guestlist spots and all access passes. Thank you for always making sure I get a bottle of water (or a beer) when I’ve been squashed against the barrier for an hour to secure a spot. I love you all.
Happy Birthday you old gits,
Love Han xxx