Midge Ure's Cornwall: Where Pasties and Rock Collided
Midge Ure can’t talk about Cornwall without his eyes lighting up for two things: the smell of a fresh Cornish pasty and the electric buzz of live music echoing in the seaside air. It’s a combination that lives rent-free in his head, and once you hear his stories, it’s not hard to see why.
For the Scottish singer, best known for fronting Ultravox and rallying rock royalty for Live Aid, Cornwall is not just a stunning patch of British coastline, but a place steeped in memories. He recently sat down to reminisce, and almost immediately, the talk turned to the pasty – that hearty, crimped pastry filled with beef, potato, onion and swede. Midge saw them not as a mere snack, but as a taste of Cornwall itself. He joked about grabbing one straight from a bakery window after a late-night gig, the smell lingering in the tour van. To him, you couldn’t do Cornwall without biting into a pasty – preferably when it's fresh and steaming, even if it burned your tongue.
But food was just the starter. For Ure, the main course was the Cornish music scene, with the Cornwall Coliseum leading the way. The Coliseum, perched near Carlyon Bay in St. Austell, once pulled in the big names: Queen, The Police, and, of course, Ultravox. Midge remembered its almost raw, warehouse-like space, packed wall-to-wall with fans who’d travel from every corner of the southwest. He described the Coliseum’s atmosphere as both wild and strangely intimate. Unlike the faceless arenas scattered across the UK, this place let you feel every shout, every ripple of excitement running through the crowd.
In the 1970s and ‘80s, getting a slot at the Coliseum felt like a rite of passage for any band trying to make a dent on the UK music map. It was notorious for its quirky charm. Sometimes, condensation would drip from the low ceiling thanks to thousands of dancing bodies, and the dressing rooms weren’t much to write home about. But none of that mattered. Midge described performing there as electric — a real mix of grit and glamour, with the salty sea breeze just steps away and fans roaring so loud you could feel it in your chest.
When the Coliseum finally closed in 2002 and the building started to fade away, it left a gap, not just in Cornwall but in the memories of musicians like Ure. He explained how the venue’s loss felt personal, because it wasn’t just a place to play — it was where careers kicked off, friendships formed backstage, and after-show adventures usually involved a midnight pasty run.
Cornwall’s Legacy in Every Note (and Bite)
Now, years later, Cornwall’s magic still pulls at musicians. For Ure, the county’s real gift is that unique marriage of culinary tradition and musical energy. He points out that Cornwall didn’t just feed bellies — it fueled creative sparks. The crowd’s warmth, the local bands opening up, and yes, the pasties, all left a real mark on the artists who passed through.
Today, old concert posters and pasty shops aren’t just relics — they’re reminders of a time when music felt a little less polished and a lot more personal. Ure’s nostalgia proves that Cornwall, with its flaky pastries and lively gigs, is a place where memories are baked in, one show and one snack at a time.