A new venue for us, and initial impressions aren't good - a nice little gastropub in the Forest of Dean, yes, but more used to the odd mellow jazz quartet than a bunch of hairy reprobates like us, methinks
(Oh, and we're billed as 'Billy in the Long Grass', which is a new one...). The worried looks as we lug the drumkit in rapidly escalate to
full red-alert horror as we gradually fill the pub up with hulking amps, and the landlord starts to worry about volume before we've even plugged anything in... even the stuffed stag's head over the fireplace wears an expression of stunned alarm
(although this isn't that surprising, as the last thing to pass through it's head apart from a large calibre metal-jacketed projectile was probably something along the lines of "What the ...?").Resigned to it being 'one of
those gigs,' we get cracking, and wonder of wonders, we go down a storm - best pub gig we've had in ages, and the much happier-looking landlord is booking us back after only the first set, which is always a plus - as is
free beer, cheers!
One of the things I like about playing in Wales and the borders is that people are generally much more interested and appreciative of something a bit different, musically - everyone seems to be a musician too, which I guess helps - looking forward to coming back, although that may freak out the excitable young lady who thought I was
Rasputin. Can't see it myself, though I
can see why she might have thought I was the guitarist from
Onslaught - see here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1prUCv3Tm6s
