disjecta membra

The Horseshoe, Bowlish

2012-02-10T17:52:00.000Z

So, the first gig of 2012 last Saturday at the Horseshoe in Bowlish, Shepton Mallet, and also our first gig as a four-piece following our Mick's decision to leave for personal reasons a few weeks ago. A real shame that, and I don't know where we'll find a replacement with anything like as much talent, but until we do we'll soldier on regardless - there's a good load of gigs stacked up for 2012 already, although our plans for recording will have to go on hold for the time being.
We were lucky that the four of us made it to this one, as snow was settling on ungritted roads right across Somerset, and I nearly left the road several times on the way to meet the others, at one point going downhill in a barely-controlled slide past dozens of cars stuck trying to go uphill...
Once in the van though, the sheer weight kept us anchored (fairly) securely to the road and we arrived in one piece, although as Chris observed "If you think I'm driving back tonight, you've got another think coming..."
Landlady Stephanie was very pleased to see us, as it was her birthday do, and the night went off very nicely indeed, the beer flowed merrily late into the night, and in the small hours the Landlord started a whisky tasting session that nearly crossed from hospitality into hospitalisation... I think it was the 46% English whisky that did for me in the end (nothing to do with the previous six, or all those pints of Butcombe, oh no), but by all accounts I suddenly decided it was time to retire for the night and collapsed to the floor like a chainsawed Redwood (oh alright, a small Christmas tree), luckily managing to hit a mattress on the way down...

I awoke in the cold light of dawn to find my face inches from Nick the drummer's, surrounded by a fuggy miasma of whisky fumes and pork scratchings, and snoring like a bandsaw.

Whimpering piteously, I crawled to the kitchen in search of a kettle, and as I looked out of the window I could see the snow had all melted - we could go home.

Damm...;-)
http://www.thehorseshoebowlish.co.uk/

It's 2012, you can come out now...

2012-01-03T15:05:00.000Z

So, as the cleansing rain of 2012 blasts the pavements clean of the puddles of vomit left behind by the last amateur drinkers of 2011, a whole new diary lies empty and pristine, with very few gigs in it as yet...
One place we do know we'll be back in is the Oxford in Totterdown, Bristol - scene of our last gig of 2011 a couple of weeks ago, and a great way to end the year it was too; rather like the Stag & Hounds, this is a good sized pub that has recently been turned into a music venue by someone with real commitment to live music, who actually knows what they're doing. Proper stage, lights & PA, lots of wood and sofas, something happening every night, and most importantly lots of people jumping about!
A real pleasure to do, and we'll be back no less than three times in 2012, so they must have liked us too.

We're hoping to do some more recording this year, as there's a backlog of songs building up we really need to get down... just need to work out how we can afford it! Meanwhile, time to start filling up that diary a bit...

The Stag and Hounds

2011-10-25T23:35:00.000+01:00

The Stag & Hounds is a massive pub in Bristol’s busy Old Market, which until recently was a place for suited types to have lunch in whilst barking into mobile phones, but since it was taken over by the people that run Mothers Ruin it’s had a new lease of life.
The place reeks of history, with parts of it going back to the 15^th century, and for a time it was the home of the ‘Pie Poudre’ – a local court where miscreants were tried upstairs, found guilty, and promptly hanged out the front of the pub.

It’s luvverly now though, loads of comfy sofas, good beer and open fires and a refreshing commitment to original music that’s increasingly rare nowadays:
First up tonight was Leo Sampson, a young singer/guitarist who also plays harmonica, which is something I’m always envious of, as I find it difficult enough to play one instrument at a time, let alone two. Excellent songs, well played, but he needs to work on the inbetween bits – 30 seconds of silence while you select the right gob-iron for the next song is a long time in a quiet pub…
Next up is Howlin’ Lord, who, with his full band is well established on the circuit as a purveyor of Country Rock par excellence, but is in acoustic solo form tonight, which works fantastically… if anything his songs are more powerful performed this way, I reckon.
Howly also does the desk duty tonight, so he has the headache of making us sound good, and he did a fine job, but then I would say that, wouldn’t I? ;)
Luckily, everyone else in the place seemed to agree, and this was one of the nicest pub gigs we’ve done this year – great venue, really appreciative audience, good sound… the only fly in the ointment for us was Mick’s dental arrangements – he’d been booked in to have an impacted wisdom tooth removed that afternoon, but after an hours wrestling with pliers had resulted in nothing more than a sweaty Dentist and an extremely irate Guitarist, a date for the rematch has yet to be agreed.
Mick has been advised to take a firm grasp of the dentist’s dangly bits when he leans back in the chair, and remind him that “This isn’t going to hurt… is it?”

The Kameleon

2011-10-23T01:21:00.000+01:00

This gig should rightfully have been in the Raglan Arms, our favourite muso pub in Weston, but thanks to the actions of a few arseholes who decided to break into the place, have a party and burn it down, all bets and indeed gigs were off, until the Kameleon , a newish music venue in Weston, took over the Raglan’s roster, fairplay to them. The Kameleon was described to us as a place that was ‘finding its feet as a music venue’, and that would be a diplomatic way of describing it – it’s basically a Wetherspoons style pub full of blokes in white T shirts with shaved heads trying to cop off with women. Suffice to say, it wasn’t really our Target Demographic.
Still, it sounded nice where we were, and the few refugees from the Raglan who turned up made it worth our while – not forgetting the couple who came down from Birmingham, bless ‘em!

…and yes, I know the shorts make me look like Lofty in ‘It Ain’t ‘alf Hot, Mum…’
It won’t happen again...

The Fleece, the George & Lytchett Matravers

2011-09-26T23:00:00.000+01:00

Busy couple of weeks for the band, kicking off Friday before last at the Fleece in Bristol, supporting The Men They Couldn't Hang (again). They must think we're stalking them, but we're really not, although we do seem to go down well with their audience - an excellent gig, even if we only got half an hour, and great to catch up with some old friends at the same time!
Rich the engineer took a recording off the desk of this gig, which I'll link to somewhere when it's been mastered, it didn't sound too bad in raw form.
Apologies to young Dominic Malin, a young and rather nervous singer/guitarist who went on before us, and wasn't quite sure what to do with the DI lead from his guitar when he'd finished: "Err... should I just unplug my guitar?"
"No! You must stay there all night!" called out our Mick, to a suddenly silent room... poor kid looked briefly terrified!
No-one took any photos, as far as I know, so here's one of the Allnight Chemists playing the Fleece in about 1987. My haircut's the same, anyway...

Friday last saw us return to The George in Bradford on Avon, where landlord Darren had a mouthwatering array of local real ales and ciders ready for us... many were sampled, and all found favour, and a pretty good crowd in the place too, always a pleasure to do this one.
The next night, with me feeling unaccountably jaded, we headed off to Lytchett Matravers in Dorset, which as well as a name that sounds like an Edwardian skin complaint, boasts a very large and impressive village hall which was hosting a beer festival... it had evidently been going on for some time, as an ambulance had just arrived to pick up a comatose body from the adjoining playing fields.
As we chatted with the organiser, a genial punk geezer who used to run a pub we played at in Poole a while ago, a purple-faced gent with a glazed expression staggered up to me, put his hand on my shoulder and whispered conspiratorially "I 'aven't 'ad a piss yet!". I didn't have the heart to tell him that actually, yes he had...
Lovely big stage in this place, huge lighting rig as well, but the acoustics were shocking. In between sets a DJ played his eighties record collection ('Eye of the Tiger', anyone?) and cheerfully burbled away completely incomprehensibly in the way that only DJs can.
While we were playing, an elderly gent came and asked us if we would play "a waltz, or a quickstep?" and was quite disappointed when I explained that we were unlikely to. He made the best of a bad job though - over the next hour he must have dragged every woman under 40 in the place around the floor with him, the cunning old fox...
A good night,especially the Exmoor Beast!
(That's a beer, not the dancing gent...)

Glastonbury 1995!

2011-08-24T20:16:00.000+01:00

Finally rescued & converted from the moldering VHS on top of the wardrobe, here's some video of the Brew Band playing a little stage at Glasto back in 1995!
It was shot by a lovely couple whose names now escape me, and posted to us later in the year.
There's bits from two separate gigs here, we didn't rush off and change halfway through... I can only excuse the terrible shades I'm wearing in the first bit by saying that I had a monumental hangover, I think I only crawled out of bed 10 minutes before we went on.
Right at the end of 'Wishing we were Younger' I managed to break my bottom E string, not an easy thing to do, and to this day I can remember the feeling of horror... good job I only had an instrumental to struggle though after that (and 'struggle' is definitely the right word)

Farmfest 2011

2011-08-02T23:05:00.000+01:00

When I started going to festivals, they didn't have their own Twitterfeed (I know, right? OMG!), and they were regarded as the preserve of long-haired weirdos in funny hats in pursuit of free love & illicit chemical stimulation, which was fair enough, because they were.

Here I am in 1981, having given up on the free love, and settled for a couple of litres of vodka & orange by the banks of the Thames. It's an attitude which has served me well ever since.

On the evidence of Farmfest 2011, a lovely little 3000 capacity festival in the wilds of Somerset, nothing much has changed, apart from the constant social media input & the mobile phones (last time I went to Glastonbury as a punter, I had to meet up with my mates by arranging for one of them to ring me from a call-box on my new-fangled pager to tell me where they were...) Certainly the toilets haven't improved, but apart from that minor gripe, a really well put together event - the main stage headliners Dodgy finished a little while before we went on in one of the two marquees, so we got a nice big audience for our midnight set, and it was a storming gig - encores, singing along, the lot. Haven't enjoyed a gig as much as this one for ages - well done to all the organisers, and the highly effective soundcrew, who sorted us out in 5 minutes flat - we all crawled off to bed very happy indeed!
The next morning though, the Black Rat and even more threateningly named Bull Beggar cider had left it's mark on us to a certain extent, but had taken a terrible toll on the young lads & lasses crawling out of their collapsing tents, shrivelling in the sun like a coven of vampires... in funny hats.

Cheers to Ollie for the picture above, lots of splendid hats to be found here.

Woolley Festival 13

2011-07-20T21:30:00.000+01:00

To Bradford on Avon last Friday, for the 13th Woolley Festival, a cracking little do organised by Darren, the landlord of the George on Woolley Street.

We last played it last a couple of years back when the whole thing was crammed into the street in front of the pub, which was pretty hard work to be honest, especially trying to manhandle the gear through a sea of punters to get to the tiny stage, only to find that the Pink Floyd tribute act that were going on last had decided to set all their gear up during your setup time, and not actually left any room on the stage for you... This is the sort of thing that upsets normally mild-mannered musicians, and Nige, our then Mandolin player, turned a worrying shade of puce before offering to fight pretty much everyone within range...

No such problems this time though, as the whole shebang had been relocated to a nice big field down the road, with everything the discerning festivalgoer would want to hand. Except for the Unicorn Petting Zoo... we always request one on our rider, and never get one, I can't understand it.
The band on before us were a disconcertingly young trio called the Operation, and I wouldn't be surprised to hear more of them, they were extremely good and very, well... young. When they came off backstage after their set we all looked like their Mums & Dads come to collect them...
Our set went down pretty darn well, especially as there were a couple of brand new songs in there we'd never tried out before, and a good time was had by all.

Was hoping for a few photos to materialise, but none so far... well done to Darren & his team for organising such a great event, and here's hoping we'll be around for number 14!

Back to the Raglan Arms!

2011-06-20T17:04:00.000+01:00

Saturday night at the Raglan Arms, Weston Super Mare, and further proof that we do our best work in the dark! ;-)
We weren't due back here till October, but since they had a cancellation, and our gig diary had a big pub-shaped hole in it, we thought why not?
Looked a bit Marie-Celestial up till about 9 o'clock, with band outnumbering punters by a ratio of 2:1, which didn't bode well, but sure enough the place filled rapidly then. Weston people obviously don't like to come out too early! Once again, a nice warm sound in this friendly old pub, probably helped by all the wood, plus it's been dry of late, so all our speakers have finally dried out.
A great night, and many thanks to everyone who turned up at such short notice and supported us.
I was somewhat baffled by the geezer who kept calling out "Fire Brigade", until I remembered that it's an old Roy Wood song... what was he trying to say, I wonder? Well, here you go mate, this is the closest you'll get to us doing it!

The Men They Couldn't Hang, and Lechlade Festival

2011-05-30T23:57:00.000+01:00

After a prolonged gig drought, two come along at once, or nearly so - both in the same part of the world too, the first being a Friday night support slot with The Men They Couldn't Hang at the 12Bar in Swindon. We did this about a year ago on St Patrick's night, and it's a lovely little venue, with a decent stage & PA and friendly soundcrew. Good pint of Doom Bar, too!
Everything ran like clockwork this time around, and our set went down rather well, I'd say - lots of people saying nice things afterwards, anyway. We'll be back at this place later in the year, I think...

On Saturday, with our ears still ringing, and heads still thumping from the Doom Bar (OK, just mine, then), it was time to head 20 miles North of Swindon to the first Lechlade Festival, set in the Cotswolds Water Park, next to the Thames. Lovely little site, Nice big beer tent, like to see that... (Old Lech at £3 a pint?! At a festival? Oooh yes, I'll 'ave some of that!) A tad wet & windy, unfortunately, with nearly fatal consequences: in a scene reminiscent of The Omen (if you don't know what I'm on about, check the link below), a freakishly strong wind blew up, toppling a scaffold tower draped with banners by the side of the stage, and as the tower fell onto a car parked next to it in the backstage area, a 3 foot-long steel roadpin which had presumably been left on top of it neatly impaled Ruth's metal case, thankfully missing any vital tuners, leads, effects pedals, or indeed fiddle players, which would have put a distinct dampener on proceedings (I could swear I heard a choir reaching a menacing crescendo too, but in retrospect that may have been an aftereffect of the Doom Bar).
Despite the best efforts of the Evil One/scaffold company, our late afternoon set went down very well, in fact when I went back later that night, it was apparent that we'd had the largest audience of the day - headliners Incubus Succubus were playing to about 50 people, which was a shame as they were pretty darn good. The lot before them though, a Glam covers band called Same Old ~~Faeces~~ Faces were... well, you can guess.

The Great Wreck'n'Roll Circus

2011-03-27T23:08:00.000+01:00

I think the last time I saw Here & Now was at Treworgey Festival back in 1989, so a gig in Bristol was not something I was going to miss, even if it was an all-nighter I knew I'd be paying for later...
The Wreck 'n' Roll Circus is a loose, touring collection of bands & DJs that reminded me of the old Club Dog back in London. The venue was an eclectic jumble of rooms in an old warehouse in St Philips, most of them playing host to DJs playing some ear-splitting variant of Drum & Bass. A mostly young crowd happily did whatever people do to Drum & Bass, while those of us who'd come to see Here & Now (easily identifiable on the whole) cowered in relatively quiet corners, nursing cans of Red Stripe and hoping the babysitter didn't ring.
The bands kicked off with Disorder, a lumpen punk band who proved that Punk is, if not dead, then nodding in a daycare centre with dribble running down its chin. I wandered off to another room to listen to some Jungle, they were that bad.
After that, Spanner were a breath of fresh air - basically a young, angry Culture Shock with a trumpet, they played tight, politically charged ska-punk, only slightly denting their 'Sticking it to The Man' stance at the end of their set when, in response to calls for more, the guitarist asked: "Errr... do we have time for another one? Anyone in authority out there..?"
Next up was Skip (little axe) McDonald, an instantly likeable Jamaican gent with an electric guitar and a host of effects pedals, which was great for a while, but it went on a bit to be honest. So much so that Here & Now were setting up behind him and he still didn't take the hint. So they started playing along with him... great, he thought - a backing band! Eventually he relinquished the stage (I was half expecting a long shepherds crook to appear from one side to assist) and it was Here & Now's turn.
What with the inevitable changeover delays in a show like this, especially one with an authentically shambolic free-festival vibe, it was now 1.30 a.m. and waaay past my bedtime but that didn't matter as the band kicked off with the instant wall of noise that heralds 'Floating Anarchy', and we were off - a great set, packed with songs I know and love, from 'Ali Baba' to 'So Glad You're Here', and of course 'Opium for the People'...
I spent the entire set leaping around in my prime position by Keith's bass bins, and haven't enjoyed myself so much in years!

When they'd finished it was 3 a.m, and time for me to call it a night. Lots of stuff still on the bill, but I was knackered. It seemed to take forever to find my way home, but I was still surprised to see it was 5.30 when I finally stumbled in. I only realised the next day that the clocks had gone forward...

Raglan Arms, Weston

2011-02-08T16:52:00.000Z

A Sunday night outing this week, back to the Raglan Arms in Weston Super Mare, a splendidly woodsmoky little boozer full of er, colourful characters including the gent in a full suit of armour made out of cardboard (we didn't like to ask), the cartoon drunk who apparently is going to get us a spot at a certain major folk festival (no he isn't), and the rather confused chap who thought Mick was playing a Mandarin...
Good sound in here this time (it was a bit ropey when we did it last year!), and a great crowd too, thanks to Dave the promoter, who also took the photos plus a vid which you can see on Facebook.
A cracking night, especially for me, as every time I went to the bar I got a free pint! It later transpired that no-one else in the band had, so I'd probably drunk the entire band's rider. Oops.

There must be something about this part of the world that breeds strange fancies in the minds of the inhabitants; the sea air, perhaps? Last time we were in these parts we met a deluded bloke who claimed to have been Hawkwind's bassplayer (at a time when anyone with even a cursory knowledge of their history knows it was Lemmy), and this time as we were loading the van a staggering inebriate who claimed to be Paul Weller's Tour Manager appeared, and tried to get us to come back to Burnham with him and meet Paul at his studio - either he was telling the truth, or he was angling for a lift home. I know which one I'd put my money on...

First gig of 2011!

2011-02-01T18:18:00.000Z

We're back! As our last two gigs of 2010 were cancelled at the last minute due to the snow, the whole band spent the Christmas period in a state of hibernation, cosily snuggled in packing crates stuffed with straw in the shed. After all, as our nauseating Government constantly reminds us, we're "all in this together". I still don't see why we couldn't have just gone home, though...
Strange how snow doesn't seem to affect the touring plans of umpteen Scandanavian Metal bands, forever yomping to and fro across the frozen tundra... they even have festivals in it, that's how Metal they are. Clearly we are weak.

Still, there are positive signs appearing in this bright & shiny New Year. I've just doubled the value of my car, by the simple expedient of filling it up with petrol and putting a new tyre on it, and the gigging calendar is showing a few tender green shoots of recovery from the traditionally fallow winter.
First gig of the year, then, at the Plough in Manston - always a favourite, but to be honest we weren't expecting much of a crowd on a freezing Friday night, which meant the large & enthusiastic turnout was even more of a pleasant surprise - thanks to everyone who came, especially Elodie & Mildly Alarming Dave (and thanks again for the photos, Dave!) - sounded great (to us, at any rate), and cheered us all up a treat.
On Saturday morning however, there were sure signs that we haven't done this in a while: levels of earwax had built up to Father Jack proportions overnight, and someone was apparently hammering a steel log-splitting wedge into my skull. So it goes, so it goes...

The George at Woolley

2010-11-09T11:29:00.000Z

Back to the familiar surroundings of the George in Bradford on Avon last Saturday, home of the genial landlord Darren and the lovely Bath Ales 'Dark Side', mmm...
Home also to possibly the Highest Urinals in Wiltshire; not because the pub's built on a hill, but the urinals were presumably installed by a seven-foot plumber, making it a bit tricky for those of us of a slightly shorter nature... I can just about manage it if I stand on tip-toes. Any chance of a step, Darren?
Not exactly a vast throng of people there, but since most are at one of the many firework displays that night it's not surprising. Thanks to those who made it, especially the usual suspects! We enjoyed our little selves no end, and we'll be back here in the new year, including a slot at the annual Woolley Street Festival in July...

The Bell, Walcot St

2010-10-24T00:50:00.000+01:00

Ah, back to the Bell on Walcot St, pretty much the only place for old hippies to hang out in Bath since the Hat & Feather became a tapas bar, or whatever it calls itself now...
Sunday lunchtime, always a weird time for a gig, particularly one of a loud, raucous and Rocky nature, but as we are commanded, so do we manifest.
On this occasion, We Are Not Alone... as we finish loading the various Black, Arcane & extremely Heavy items of our Craft into the venue, another van turns up, and disgorges a cargo of disgruntled Blues musicians, who have also been booked to play here... someone, somewhere has clearly fucked up in a major fashion, but as this is not our problem, and our name is on all the posters we carry on regardless. Luckily for all concerned, some rapid telephone diplomacy secures the other band a gig in Bradford on Avon, but I wouldn't like to be that promoter in the morning.
The gig goes pretty well from my standpoint, bar a few imprecations to turn it down, which as has been said before is pretty much an impossibility with a band featuring Drums, Bass, two generous helpings of Electric Guitar, 3 vocals & lashings of Fiddle... I mean, ferchrissakes, if you wanted Uncle Derek on his electric organ playing 'Songs from the Shows', why didn't you book him?
We liked it, the punters obviously liked it, judging by the numbers of 'em telling us so afterwards (and calling for 2 encores, haven't had that for a while), but I can't help thinking we'd do better with an evening slot in here... we need more bodies! Not in a Burke & Hare kinda way, you understand, more in a sound-absorbing way...

The Rolleston, Swindon

2010-10-10T01:24:00.000+01:00

Has it really been that long since our last gig? Leafing back through the vellum-bound parchment of my journal I see it has, partly due to my inconsiderate 10 year-old son, whose appendix chose to make a bid for freedom a couple of weeks back, causing us to cancel a gig in Devizes. All sorted now thankfully, so I was looking forward to last night's do in Swindon, especially as it's a proper music pub & not the sort of place with a sound limiter...
Knew this would be a good 'un from the moment we arrived - I always like to see a goodly contingent of hairy people outside a pub, makes me feel at home right away, and I wasn't disappointed by the hirsute turnout at the Rolleston. As we loaded the gear in, a very drunk metalhead accosted me:
"You're the bassplayer, aren't you?"
"Err...yes?"
"Knew it."
Great venue, nice sound (possibly the shortest soundcheck we've ever done - sounded fine right away, so why twiddle?), really nice friendly clientele too, ranging from local musos who were especially interested in Mick's new doubleneck mandolin/mandola, to a couple of older gents who came in on spec because they thought we "looked a bit Cornish" on our posters (not quite sure what they meant by this... possibly we look as though we've put away a lot of pasties?).
All in all a good gig, despite a mass exodus halfway through the second set to get into the nightclub next door; was it something we said?! Be happy to do this one again sometime...

Frocester Beer Festival

2010-09-01T17:55:00.000+01:00

The thing with a beer festival is, you've got to pace yourself... oh, and remember to eat something as well. Two pointers that the comatose punter we had to step over to load all our gear onstage would have been well advised to take onboard, rather than the industrial quantities of cider he apparently did instead. The St John Ambulance people were trying to revive him as we arrived, and by the time we took to the stage an ambulance had whisked him off for a truly miserable night having his stomach pumped... which was a shame, as he missed an excellent gig. Terrible waste of cider, too.
We went down a treat, especially the second set when everyone had warmed up a bit (and had a bit more beer, natch), particularly with a large contingent of smurfs, complete with blue body-paint and not much else.
Sadly for me (but luckily for the punters) I was driving, so no beer for me, but on the upside that meant I actually remembered most of the set - no mean feat, as it's been weeks since our last gig!
Well done to the organisers for such a well-run do, and the quietly competent soundcrew, too - cheers guys!

Bathampton village celebration

2010-07-19T13:32:00.000+01:00

This was a brilliant little event on Saturday, held in the playing field of the primary school in the almost impossibly quaint & picturesque village of Bathampton. It was to celebrate the 200th anniversary of the opening of the Kennett & Avon canal, which runs through the village, enabling Mick to moor his narrowboat right next to the gig, lucky sod!
Everything was there - beer tent, food stalls, stage area, but on a lovely small scale - a reminder of what festivals started out like before people realised there was serious money to be made...
We were last on, and as it had to finish bang on time to comply with the license, we only got about 20 minutes, but it went down a storm & we were all dead chuffed.
Thanks to everyone involved, not forgetting the sound guys, who did possibly the quickest set-up in history!

South Cotswold Beer Festival

2010-07-14T14:22:00.000+01:00

Reminiscent of a cheery village fete, this one - held on the field of Chipping Sodbury Rugby Club, it comprised a stage at one end, a huge marquee full of beer barrels at the other, and 1200 punters baking in the sun in the middle, having picnics.
Security consisted of a string of warning tape looped around the site, plus a couple of squiffy Rotarians, so what would have happened in the event of a full-scale invasion by marauding hordes of Chipping Sodbury lager-boys is anyone's guess.
Strange crowd for a beer festival too, there were lots of oddly shaped chaps with no beards... women! That's what they were! And those little people were children! A very good natured crowd, but when we went on after the obligatory covers duo, it soon became apparent that the occasional "polite ripple" was all the feedback we were likely to get. Stage invasions were limited to an unusually persistent bee and a number of footballs kicked by small boys.
"It's like this every year," confirmed the sound guys afterwards; "they only wake up during the last ten minutes of the last band in the evening, then they can't believe it's all finished..."
Nevertheless we enjoyed it immensely, due in no small part to the excellent sound - well done That Man for reaching the Holy Grail of sound engineering: making the fiddle sound like a fiddle, only louder, rather than the dreaded VileDin...
After our set came the Tug'o'War, where a team from the Rugby Club who clearly took it very seriously were soundly thrashed by a team calling themselves the 'Powder Puffs'. Twice. Which doesn't bode well for them next season...

Keynsham Festival

2010-07-05T16:28:00.001+01:00

Went to this a couple of years back, so was really pleased to be playing it on Sunday... one of the few free festivals left in the South West, with 4 stages and over 10,000 people turning up. A friendly event that seemed to run like clockwork, with people helping us shift the gear, and a very efficient soundcrew (we actually went on early, how often does that happen at a festival?!)
Should mention the band on before us too, Strange Folk - they had a really full sound for a 3-piece, and the singer sounded like a young Sandy Denny, a terrific voice... the Top Stage was nicely full for our late afternoon slot, and we thoroughly enjoyed our little selves, as did the crowd, even getting us back for an encore, bless 'em. Wish I'd remembered to take a drink on with me though, I was completely hoarse by the end of our set.
The rain, which held off for our set, started to come down in earnest soon after, but didn't dampen our spirits too much, with a succession of people coming up to us and saying nice things... a good day.

Salisbury Beerex

2010-06-23T22:39:00.000+01:00

To Salisbury on Saturday for the 30th Beerex Beer Festival, which turns out to be in a rather impressive old church converted into an Arts Centre. For the second gig in a row we've got a nice big stage to play with, complete with a massive arched stained-glass backdrop, featuring a bloke with long hair & a beard (clearly pissed, who's lost most of his clothes and fallen into some brambles), draped over a sort of wooden cross thingy while a lot of people look at him disapprovingly. I mean I'm flattered, obviously, but I wish they hadn't gone to so much trouble...
Lots of time for a soundcheck for a change, and for such a huge venue the sound is actually not bad at all - someone who knows something about acoustics has put some effort in here - and our godless heathen racket eventually wins over the sizeable crowd of almost exclusively male beer drinkers, even dragging most of them away from the tantalising array of over 60 real ales on offer.
I only spotted half a dozen women in the whole place; one asks us if we can play some old style Rock'n'Roll (we could, but why on earth would we?), one tells us that she's "acshewully the fire schteward...so it'sh my reshponsibility to, umm, you know, shave everybody's livesh if there'sh a fire...", and one mistakes me for Bill Bailey - a comparison I'm happy to go along with, given that I've recently been compared to Rasputin & Satan...
Many thanks to Salisbury CAMRA for asking us to play, we had a blast, and much appreciated all the lovely beer they gave us to take with us, too... I polished off my Old Growler as soon as I got home. Mmmm...

BITL @ the Prom

2010-06-15T18:06:00.001+01:00

Video of Billy in the Lowground @ the Prom last month, courtesy of Martin Moss, though the ham-fisted editing is all down to yours truly... cheers Martin!

Shaftesbury Arts Centre

2010-06-14T17:07:00.000+01:00

This gig was booked several months ago, long before anyone knew what dates Ingerland would be playing matches in the World Cup (or indeed whether they'd even qualify), so it was with a familiar sinking feeling we noticed it clashed with their first game against the USA... oh well, we reasoned, there must be loads of people in Shaftesbury who would rather see us than a bunch of overpaid pillocks ruining a perfectly good lawn, mustn't there?
The venue itself is great, a nice theatre with a huge great stage, loads of lights, backdrops, and a backstage area with a table containing several empty bottles and a pot of Geraniums. Clearly someone has got confused over our rider, which I'm sure specified several full bottles of Guinness? We make the best of it however, and eat as many of the Geraniums as we can manage, apart from Chris, who has a pathological aversion to salad.
Meanwhile, the very apologetic and charming organiser confirmed our fears that ticket sales had been "disappointing"...
Seven, to be precise. We counted 'em in, and every so often Chris got the excellent lighting man to light 'em up so we could check none had escaped. Never mind, it's quality, not quantity that's important, and for 7 people they did a damned fine job - we really enjoyed ourselves. Particularly nice to see Elodie from the Plough at Manston there with Dave, the Man in a Hat, to whom many thanks for the great photos..!
As we packed the van up at the end of the night, several grim-faced men in England shirts wandered past, muttering something about a "complete bloody disgrace..." Apparently, a huge audience is no guarantee of a good gig!

http://www.maninahat.com/

Tiddley Om Pom, Pom...

2010-06-02T21:37:00.000+01:00

Back to the Prom in Bristol again the other week, which has had a few improvements since last we played there - the stage has magically expanded (unless we've all shrunk, which is a worrying possibility), and the PA's been overhauled; we were under strict instructions not to break it...
Sound was as good as ever, but unfortunately we outnumbered the audience for much of the evening, which is a good thing if it all descends into an anarchic punch-up, but since it didn't we were a bit lonely up there...
Anyway, many thanks to those hardy souls who did make it - next time tell your friends!

Stepping Stones, Poole

2010-05-04T18:23:00.000+01:00

All the way down to the South coast on the Friday night of a Bank Holiday weekend... what could have been traffic hell actually wasn't too bad, and we even found the place easily too.
The Stepping Stones is a huge great sprawling pub with acres of space to play with, which I was particularly chuffed by as it gave me a chance to wander around unencumbered by trailing leads, thanks to my new wireless rig. The rest of the band glowered jealously as I skipped merrily around the back of the room, wishing I had a trio of husky roadies & a surfboard... they'll all be getting one, now.
The downside of this ability to mix with the audience is that, well, you have to mix with the audience. As we tried to soundcheck, I was subpoenaed as an expert witness by a ruddy-faced all-day drinker who'd bought what he thought was a little guitar for his son, only to be told by his slurring companion it was a ukelele. One look at his popping eyes, dodgy tatts & general air of a man who could explode into violence made me very glad that it was, in fact, a tiny guitar...
Not a bad gig all in all - good sound, lots of room, and a very friendly ex-punk landlord, but a bit dispiriting going all that way to play for a couple of dozen people, so I doubt it'll become a regular fixture.

Deepest, darkest Devizes again...

2010-04-27T16:54:00.000+01:00

Back to the Bear Hotel's cellar bar on Saturday, on a nice balmy spring night, only to be told we can't go in because all the electricity has gone off.
Only one thing to do - repair to the nearest hostelry to fortify ourselves while we wait for the all-clear from the Sparks. Down the road we trot, and into a decaying pub where the gurning landlord rests his gut ornamentally on the bar while his elderly wife does her best to coax some beer out of the pumps for us. A couple of superannuated rockers who remind me of the Chuckle Brothers are setting up a karaoke which occupies half the pub, and for a while we are haunted by the prospect of having to sit around and listen to whatever bangin' choons they've brought with them... happily the power is back on at the Bear, and we drink up hurriedly & leave.
Rather a rapid setup thanks to the late start, but the gig goes well, as they tend to here, and the stunned punters stumble drunkenly out into the night, ears ringing... job done.

Glastonbury Assembly Rooms with Pressgang

2010-04-04T12:55:00.000+01:00

To Glastonbury on Friday, playing support for loud folksters Pressgang, who we last played with at Pontardawe Festival a couple of years back - a lovely bunch of chaps who are currently promoting their latest album "Outlandish" - see the link at the bottom.

The Assembly Rooms is tucked down a little passage off Glastonbury's High Street, and once we've humped the gear up the many, many steps it opens out into a surprisingly large venue with a decent stage & huge LED lighting rig. Most venues smell of stale beer, fags & sweat, but being Glastonbury this one smells of incense with a hint of apple crumble, and there are smiley ladies placing tea-lights on every flat surface.
Nice little bar/cafe attached too, with local real ales, so I'm happy...
Pressgang have set this gig up themselves, and no-one's sure how many people will turn up, but arrive they do, and by the time we go on the hall's filling up nicely. With that big lighting rig it's a bit tricky to tell how many people we're playing to, but judging from the noise there's a fair few of them & they like it a lot!
We thoroughly enjoy our little selves too, and after a couple of encores we hand over the nicely warmed up crowd to Pressgang, who are excellent, & get on with the business of drinking & sweating a lot. Now I come to think of it, perhaps it's not the venues we normally play that smell like that... perhaps it's us..?

http://www.myspace.com/pressganguk

Spring Garden Tavern

2010-03-26T17:01:00.000Z

Oh dear, oh dear... where do you start? It wasn't looking promising when the promoter (Harley Quinn - not his real name, I suspect) first contacted us about this one, as he didn't want to pay us anything apart from "a couple of drinks"... we were underwhelmed by this offer, & eventually he agreed to cough up some cash so off we went.
We played this place about 15 years ago when it was called Dirty Nellies, an ill-advised foray into Oirish theme-pubbery, but it's recently been done up as a music venue, and very nice too - good stage, nice acoustics, decent PA and a genial landlord who doubles up as sound engineer.
The enthusiastically burbling young Harley then told us that the 2 bands who were supposed to be supporting us had like, er, pulled out at the last minute, but it was alright 'cos a couple of his mates were like, literally on the way here on the bus, and they could play an acoustic set...
"Are you going to kill him, or shall I..?" growled the landlord as we set the gear up.
Harley's mates showed up after a while, and he took the opportunity to disappear, presumably to rethink his career path... we played the gig, and it turned out to be great fun, we all really enjoyed it - thanks to Emily & Ally for turning up so we had someone to play to! A good little venue, and I hope it does well.
Harley needless to say never reappeared, but to his credit (and much to our surprise) he had left some dosh for us, so all's well that ends well...

The George, and The Men They Couldn't Hang

2010-03-19T16:31:00.000Z

A busy couple of weeks, starting with a gig in The George at Bradford on Avon last Saturday - always a pleasure to play here, especially now that our favourite landlord, the Porcupine tree-loving Darren, has got Bath Ales Dark Hare on! Such a pleasure in fact that we stayed there sampling it till the wee small hours - cheers Darren!
On St Patricks Day we were in Swindon, at the 12Bar supporting The Men They Couldn't Hang, and a cracking night it was too - great PA, a very good young sound engineer name of Kieran, and a proper sticky floor to boot. We seemed to go down well, and there was a fair bit of dancing going on by the end of our set, which ain't bad when you're the support band.
I didn't see much of TMTCH as I had to drive home, but thanks to them for the cheerful loan of their drumkit & slightly less cheerful loan of their bass amp (think I'll bring my own next time), and hopefully we'll be back in this venue again...

Raglan Arms, Weston Super Mare

2010-03-01T17:18:00.000Z

A new venue for us this, and very nice too: smallish pub in the back streets of Weston with a great atmosphere, a policy of putting on original music and real ale at two quid a pint - you can't go wrong, really!
The only fly in the ointment was the lack of punters, but apparently they don't usually do music on Saturdays, so this was a bit of an experiment. Hopefully there'll be a few more next time, but it was good to catch up with some familiar faces we haven't seen for years, when we used to regularly play the late lamented O'Malleys Bar, good stuff...
Cheers to Dave the landlord for the video clip above, too.

Damn, I'm giving up drinking right away!

2010-02-12T09:12:00.000Z

Woo hoo! 2010!

2010-01-11T18:21:00.004Z

And so Old Father Time has finally shuffled off this mortal coil & we're in a new decade... or is that not until 2011? Who cares. Anyway, after the enforced 'rest' of Christmas, with all it's attendant pigging out, debauchery & general licentiousness, Billy in the Lowground are back in business!
Drummer Nick has at last recovered from his appendix malfunction, and is champing at the bit to get hitting things with sticks, so it was off to the Bear Hotel in Devizes last Friday to frighten the local jazz enthusiasts again. To be honest we thought we'd be playing to nobody, as there was still snow all over Wiltshire & more was coming down, but a very respectable crowd turned out to see us, which was very gratifying - thanks to everyone who came for braving the icy pavements & making us feel so welcome, it was much appreciated, and apparently we'll be back in April sometime... looking forward to it!

Oh, and Nick promises to keep it in his trousers next time... drummers, what can I say?

Oh no, Steve Hillage!

2009-11-25T15:54:00.004Z

I was really expecting someone to shout out Neil's famous lament when the man himself walked onstage last week, but it's just as well they didn't, as despite being a very nice chap he has a bit of a sense of humour bypass about his brush with popular culture, as Robin discovered when he interviewed him a couple of weeks ago. An excellent set from the Steve Hillage band (including Mike Howlett & Miquette Giraudy) with some great (astral) projections going on behind them too - none of the dancey ravey nonsense he's been toying with of late, just lots of oldies, which suited the crowd down to the ground.
With most of Gong already onstage, we waited with bated breath & not a little trepidation to see what Daevid Allen would be wearing on his head tonight... last time I saw him back in the eighties, he hopped around like a demented gibbon with a pair of underpants on his noggin, declaiming awful poetry while a bunch of matronly earth-mother types danced about with silk scarves. It was not a pretty sight.
Happily he was in full-on Pothead Pixie mode tonight, and along with the venerable Gilli Smyth (the Queen Mum of hippies at 76, Gawd Bless 'Er!) they delivered 2 hours of solid gold Gongery, including all the stuff I really hoped they'd play - great show, and an inspiration to young whippersnappers like myself (stop sniggering at the back) - if they can do it at their age, I reckon I've got a few years left in me.

He's behind you!

2009-11-13T17:01:00.006Z

My first visit to Bristol's newly refurbished Colston Hall last night, to see Motorhead on their annual Christmas tour. As Robin observed, it looks rather as though someone had 10 million quid to spend on renovating a stately home, and decided to blow the lot on a huge conservatory. Doubtless it won loads of awards, but to me it looks like a gigantic Ferrero Rocher, and inside it closely resembles an airport departure lounge.
Never mind, on with the Panto, and all the traditional elements are there; some thigh-slapping Principal Boys in the form of Girlschool, still rockin' 30 years after they first played here, and doing it very well (although a few of the younger members of the audience looked distinctly uncomfortable: "I'd never let my mum go out dressed like that..."), followed by The Damned, complete with Dave Vanian's pantomime villain & Captain Sensible's comedy genie. I never got to see them back in the day, and was very impressed - all the hits, plus a smattering from the Black Album, excellent.
Rather sweetly, as we leave the auditorium there's a smiley lady with a tray of ice-creams for sale...
Off to the bar, and a further design fault rapidly becomes apparent: in a reversal of the usual situation, no queue for the Ladies, but a massive one for the Gents - there's a grand total of 4 urinals in there. Genius.
Back in for Motorhead and the grizzled old Dame himself, and as ever they don't disappoint - pretty much exactly the same show as last year, but that's the whole point of Panto - the audience knows what to expect, and everyone's happy.
"Turn up!" yells one (presumably deaf) punter at one point.
"Turn up? I HAVE fuckin' turned up," replies Lemmy "I've come 10,000 miles to play for you, you cunt!"

Altogether now... "Oh no he hasn't!"
"Oh yes he has!"

Appetite for self-Destruction!

2009-11-02T17:12:00.005Z

I knew I shouldn't have mentioned Duff McKagan's exploding pancreas...
In a misguided attempt to appear even more Rock 'n' Roll than the former Guns 'n' Roses bass player, our drummer Nick has, by sheer force of willpower, caused his appendix to explode, and is now confined to bed in the Royal United Hospital in Bath.
And this is only a couple of weeks after he nearly broke his back falling over his own dog... frankly, he shouldn't be allowed out without constant supervision; if anyone's a candidate for a 'bizarre gardening accident' it's our Nick!
Get better soon mate!

Blackstone Cherry

2009-10-27T17:12:00.008Z

To the O2 Academy last week (cheers for the blag, Robin!), to see Blackstone Cherry - a mighty fine outfit from Kentucky, supported by Duff McKagan's Loaded. Duff used to be in Guns 'n' Roses, during which time his pancreas exploded, but nothing so spectacular tonight - they were a pretty workaday bunch, and I blew my Rock Credentials out of the water by failing to recognise the G'n'R cover they did at the end.
Blackstone Cherry on the other hand were excellent - even if I failed to recognise the ZZ Top cover they did (that "glub... glub..." sound was my Rock Credentials sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I must have been doing something else during the eighties, I clearly missed a lot).
Rather like a young Lynyrd Skynyrd I thought, and if anyone was going to mistake their blonde guitarist Ben for a woman, it would clearly have to be a very foolish person with no Rock Credentials whatsoever. Probably quite a short person, who didn't have a very good view...

Miners Arms, Whitecroft

2009-10-16T16:13:00.003+01:00

A return visit to the Miners Arms over in the Forest of Dean last week, which was a cracker last time, so Nick and I hardly minded that it clashed with Porcupine Tree in Bristol.
Well OK, we minded quite a lot actually, but last minute attempts to rearrange the gig failed (apparently Porcupine Tree had already sold out the Colston Hall, and were reluctant to change the date).
Needless to say, this time we played to a more-or-less empty pub. Perhaps everyone stayed at home to watch England march to glorious defeat against the Ukraine? Or perhaps everyone was in Bristol to see Porcupine Tree? Bastards...

"Vectis Man" discovered!

2009-10-16T09:05:00.006+01:00

The world of anthropology has once more been rocked to it's core by evidence of another "missing link", this time in the Isle of Wight! Explorers stumbled across this timid beast, never before photographed, in the midst of a nigh-impenetrable jungle of mains leads, speaker cable and antediluvian Hi-Fi equipment in Wroxall. It gave off a strong smell of solder flux and burning hair, and when surprised reared into this distinctive defensive posture.

Excited researchers have speculated that this could provide a clue as to how such an apparently primitive species has spread from mainland UK across to southern France - using the Isle of Wight as a 'stepping stone', could they have bounced across the channel using some kind of Yogic flying technique..?

The George & The Pumproom

2009-10-05T17:12:00.005+01:00

Friday night at the George in Woolley St, Bradford on Avon, pretty much a guarantee of a good night, and we weren't disappointed - turns out the landlord is a big fan of Porcupine Tree as well, so Nick & I were particularly chuffed to hear pretty much their entire works while we weren't playing. Pub was jammed to the rafters, loads of very familiar faces there too, which is always a bonus, and we had a blast - thanks, people!

Two for the price of one this weekend! Literally, 'cos the Pumproom in Trowbridge on Saturday was a benefit so we didn't get paid... a two-storey barn next to The Lamb pub, this venerable old building was the original home of the Trowbridge Village Pump festival, has been a folk club since the year dot and was recently done up & reopened as a venue. Unfortunately this last minute gig wasn't advertised, so apart from a couple of friends we told about it the night before (thanks for coming, Nick & Marilyn!), plus a representative from Shaftesbury Arts Centre who'd come up to see us (we normally attract bigger crowds, honest!), we played to an empty venue. The regulars in the Lamb stayed well away, possibly not even hearing us, as there was an ear-splittingly loud Karaoke going on in the pub. I say 'going on', but it was being so completely ignored that the bloke running it wandered in to listen to us after a while, swelling the audience by 25%...

The whole thing was so surreal that we actually rather enjoyed ourselves, and decided not to nail our instruments to the wall after all...

http://www.stunell.org/thegeorgeatwoolley/

The Plough, Manston

2009-10-02T09:02:00.002+01:00

God, what a terrible gig... truly a shocker, one of the worst I can remember... makes you wonder why we bother. But enough about the Griffin in Frome - let it go, Ian, let it go!*
Always a pleasure to come back to the Plough in Manston, where the beer is excellent, the atmosphere convivial, the sound always good, the barstaff & punters are welcoming and friendly and apparently the lovely landlady Elodie reads this blog.
We like this gig a lot, and it was just what the doctor ordered after last week. Nick pointed out an old gent to me at the end who'd sat under one of the PA speakers all night with a huge beatific grin on his face, and we both agreed there must be many worse ways to spend your retirement - I'm aiming to be the doddery white-haired old geezer in the corner of the local who looks like Gandalf, and gets drinks bought for him all night. Hell, I'm nearly there already...

*Had you worried for a moment, Elodie!

Hush, hush, whisper who dares...

2009-09-25T09:12:00.003+01:00

"Bit of a random question, mate, but if we give you a fiver could you give us all a lift down to Sainsburys in your van?" Thus spake the boldest of the small knot of emo kids hanging around outside the Griffin in Frome as we drew up.
Well, if we'd known then what we know now, we'd probably have taken them up on it.
The Griffin's a nice little pub (little being the operative word) with it's own (micro)brewery attached (lovely beer, by the way), but is plagued by a neighbour prone to ringing Environmental Health if the milkman whistles too loudly in the morning. As a consequence there's a 82db soundlimit on proceedings,which pretty much sounds the death knell for a 5 piece amplified band. In fact death knells usually peak at around 90db, so even this wouldn't be allowed.
Very frustrating for all concerned, and I think it's safe to say we won't be back - sorry Frome!

The Prom, The Bell, and the firm young carrot.

2009-09-15T20:42:00.005+01:00

Two gigs in a week? The engines cannae take it, cap'n!
The Prom was pretty quiet, even for a Wednesday - in fact I think we outnumbered the punters, but it was the night of a World Cup qualifier, which England apparently managed to win, thus prolonging the agony of footy fans up & down the country until they inevitably crash and burn just before the quarter finals.
The venue's new video screens were finally up and working, but according to Ruth, who could see one from her end of the stage, they all seemed to be showing a bunch of middle-aged blokes with beer-bellies playing guitars... clearly still some technical adjustments needed then.

An unusual Sunday lunchtime outing next, to the Bell in Walcot St - something of a legend on the Bath music scene, and one we haven't played since ancient Brew Band days (before I even joined in fact). I awoke in a damp tent in Wales that morning, and had to break camp (and several rules of the road) rather hastily to make it in time, but we made it there even before the pub opened - AND there was a parking space!
It was all going so well... then we discovered that someone (let's mention no names) had left her fiddle behind. Oh dear... a rapid van journey later though we were all set, and it was a terrific gig. I don't think I've ever seen such a varied audience either; folkies, old rockers, indy kids and even a dog on a string - not to mention a deadringer for Uncle Monty (as played by Richard Griffiths in 'Withnail and I'), who after our set proceeded to wow the crowd with his impressive apparatus. I'll say no more than that.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HFCuMMy7OoA

Frocester Beer Festival

2009-09-02T19:53:00.008+01:00

I like beer, me... and I like festivals too, so I've been looking forward to this one, and I wasn't disappointed.
First impressions weren't great though - as Mick & I carried our guitars through the entrance gate, a festival steward strode up to us: "Ah, you must be the shiteheads!" he declared. Steady on, I thought - we've not even had a drink yet, how can you tell? It transpired however that the covers band on after us are called the Shy Teds (see what they did there?). I was still a bit miffed that he thought we were a covers band, though...
We approached the enormous bar (150 different beers! So little time!) and claimed our rider - a nice heavy keg of Old Unspecific ("What is it?" we asked. "Beer." he replied. "We'd guessed that... what sort of beer, exactly?" "Dunno.") and proceeded to get stuck in.
We had a great time for the next two hours - nice big stage, good sound, lots of lights, 5000 punters and free beer too - what's not to like? We still hadn't finished the keg though, and to my chagrin we had to leave it there... even Ruth had some, and she doesn't even like beer.
A splendid little festival, really well run and very friendly; I wish we could have stayed longer - at least long enough to finish that beer...

In other news, we finally finished mixing a 3 track demo, which can be downloaded for free from Last.fm here: http://tinyurl.com/nlc4o7

Devizes Festival Fringe - the Bear

2009-06-18T22:38:00.002+01:00

"The stunning fiddle playing of Ruth Behan and the passionate vocals and songs of Chris Hibberd have made Billy in the Lowground the premier Celtic Rock Band in the South West" it says in the festival programme. Blimey, we'd better be good then!
It's a Wednesday night, and it's drizzling steadily as we pull up in Devizes at the Bear Hotel, next to the Corn Exchange (scene of some memorable gigs for us in the past, including a riotous support slot for John Otway, who nearly broke his neck attempting to play a doubleneck guitar on top of a stepladder). This gig is part of the Festival fringe, and is in the 16th century cellar bar - the entrance is a tiny black door with bars over the window, at the bottom of a vertiginous flight of steps. It looks like an oubliette that Cromwell might have thrown a few enemies of the State into, and really ought to have a hideously disfigured hunchback as doorman, but thankfully once inside it turns out to be a fantastic little subterranean jazz club, all wood & stonework, which were it not for the new smoking laws would be full of Beatniks in berets puffing away on french cigarettes.
Indeed, it doesn't take long to fill up completely - by the time we start our soundcheck the place is rammed, and we get going with a sense of trepidation - are these people expecting a jazz band..? Oh dear... happily though, they've all actually turned out to see us, and from the very first song we can tell it's going to be a good 'un. Weird sometimes how your first impressions of a gig get completely stood on their head - best reaction we've had this year I'd say, and we played all the better for it - thanks people, we needed that!

The Pittball

2009-06-15T23:49:00.008+01:00

First of all, many congratulations to Mick & Paula on the birth of baby Bethany last week! The trauma of this life-changing event was such that Mick has been rendered incapable of playing guitar for the next few weeks. This is what happens if you let your partner squeeze your hand (or anything else) in a maternity ward; mine still throbs a bit when the weather turns cold.

So, off to the Pittball festival, a two-dayer in a field near Thorncombe, as a 4-piece: we arrive on Friday night to find the site shrouded in dense fog, a huge stage with lasers everywhere dimly visible in the fading light, and droves of Young People in their best leisurewear wigging out to ear-splitting drum & bass. A bunch of young lads in hoodies and very clean trainers doing the Pimp Roll around Bristol city centre is something I generally cross the street to avoid, but there's something rather endearing about the sight in a field...
Not so endearing by 2 a.m. though, when the deafening dubstep finally grinds to a halt and the merry revellers finally stumbled off to bed. I'm not actually sure it was dubstep - it might have been drum & bass still - to be honest I was past caring. Basically it seemed to consist of a machine making squelchy noises, another making squiggly bleeps, and a bloke with a volume fader who kept turning it down momentarily to exhort the crowd to "Make some f****** noise!!!" I dunno, the youth of today...
Oh, and what a joy it was to see their tousled little heads peeking blearily out of their tents the following afternoon as we started our set on the main stage! Like an army of hungover tortoises, baking in their canvas shells & croaking piteously... those that were awake seemed to like it though, and it was lovely to have a decent sized stage to play with for a change, even though we had to be careful not to trip over the hordes of people with video cameras that suddenly appeared - we'll have to track that down & stick it on Youtube.

All in all then a cracking weekend - well organised too, with acts on a smaller stage that got going as the main one finished, so there was always something going on. No covers bands, either, which made a refreshing change for a small festival - well done to the organisers, and hopefully it made a load of dosh for their chosen charities.

There I was, diggin' this 'ole...

2009-05-21T23:17:00.004+01:00

It's not all fun & games you know - I've been discovered on Google StreetView, blatantly working in broad daylight. Oh, the shame...

http://maps.google.co.uk/maps?cbp=12,130.43,,2,10.51&cbll=51.462465,-2.57973&layer=c&ie=UTF8&ll=51.462465,-2.57973&spn=0,359.995494&z=17&panoid=GS6H5Eacval8MsaOYKaHxw

Nearly done...

2009-05-21T16:27:00.003+01:00

At last, a studio with natural daylight! We've just finished three tracks at Nam Recording, out near Bradford on Avon - our first time here, and the whole experience has been a step-up from previous recording studios we've used. The plan was to get them done to a high standard primarily for demo use, but they'll also form the basis for a new album when funds allow.

There's a bit of final tinkering to do over the next couple of weeks, then I'll post 'em up online - I'm looking forward to hearing them myself, 'cos since going swimming a week ago I haven't been able to hear a damned thing...

http://www.namrecording.com/

Disco's not Dead

2009-05-07T17:22:00.004+01:00

In 1940, four French teenagers stumbled across a series of beautifully preserved cave-paintings in Lascaux - some of the world's best examples of prehistoric art...

But recently, an even more exciting discovery has been made - actual living beings from the Age of Disco have been sighted in French caves! These primitive missing-links communicate in guttural grunts, worship mirror-balls, and know all the actions to YMCA. Scientists are speculating that these bizarre throwbacks to Man's long-forgotten past may have scurried into the caves when Studio 54 closed, and have been here ever since.

To avoid the modern world contaminating these priceless relics, the caves were hurriedly bricked-up. Twice.

Mayday, mayday...

2009-05-05T21:50:00.004+01:00

After rather a long hiatus, it was back to the coalface on Saturday at the Cuckoo Fair in Downton, near Salisbury - a last minute one this, in the back garden of a pub. Apparently there was meant to be a proper stage, but whoever was organising it was hit by a piece of falling satellite or something. We survey the gathering clouds with gloom... so does everyone else, and by the time we've set up the place has miraculously emptied apart from the hardcore all-day drinkers who ignore us completely. Still, the sound is excellent in the open air, it doesn't actually rain, and we rather enjoy ourselves.

Next up, the Wells May Fair on the Bank holiday Monday - a far better organised do, held on the Green in front of Wells Cathedral. Nice big stage & PA, and a very good sound engineer, who mutters as he gets us rigged up: "It's rained every time I've done this... God hates me..." Sure enough, it starts raining the instant we take to the stage, but our godless heathen music soon chases the drizzle away - proof, if more were needed, of the non-existence of God!
Yet more proof at the end of our set, as the MC announces innocently: "Next, ladies & gentlemen, it's pole-dancing on the Green!" After a huge initial surge of interest from the crowd (and indeed us), there followed a hasty retraction, in what will surely come to be known as The Great Pole-Dancing Disappointment of '09...

I am the Leurrrh.

2009-03-20T16:37:00.003Z

They love a General Strike in France, but here's a sight guaranteed to put the wind up the most militant of agitators - it's Monsieur Sarkozy's new secret weapon... the Juggling Riot Police! Capable of wielding 3 batons at once to devastating effect, these crack troops are ready to swing into action at a moments notice (provided they get at least 2 hours off for lunch, obviously), and it's rumoured they may even be deployed in London for the G20 Summit (the Wombles are reportedly quaking in their boots).

Solidarity is not an offence? It is now...

http://www.decatalogues.com/index.html

Oh, we do like to be beside the seaside...

2009-03-17T17:23:00.003Z

Ahh, Spring is upon us! The daffodils are nodding in the verges, crocuses are peeping bashfully from the lawn, and tiny woodland creatures are scurrying about doing unspeakable things in the hedgerows… I think we ran over a fair few on our way to the George in Bradford a couple of Fridays back, where we proceeded to aurally assault the assembled throng, or as many of them as we could see either side of the place’s central pillar, anyway – there’s an archway either side, through which heads will poke every so often, like meerkats on sentry duty. Apparently the new landlord has plans to remove it to open out the view - hopefully he’ll get a structural engineer to look at it first, as I have visions of one good blow with a sledgehammer bringing the entire pub down like a house of cards…

Last Friday’s venue in Burnham on Sea was a very different kettle of fish – Burnham is rather like Weston Super Mare's little brother, and gets similarly chock full of holidaying Brummies in the summer, but off season it's pretty quiet, apart from the occasional explosion of violence - shortly after we arrived, someone took an involuntary dive through the plate glass window of the supermarket over the road - of course, this may just have been a somewhat misguided attempt at a ramraid, but we put it down to youthful high spirits...
The Old Pier Tavern sounds like a cosy seafront pub, but in fact turned out to be a vast great Victorian pile that’s been heavily modified for live music; nice big stage, lighting rig, dancefloor, decent PA, video screens, the works. It’s run by the very entertaining Jamei Roberts, ex-drummer for Mungo Jerry, and a splendid gig it was too – looking forward to coming back.

Miners Arms, Whitecroft

2009-02-24T16:44:00.005Z

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

The Prom

2009-02-06T13:04:00.003Z

Nicely timed, this gig on Wednesday, sandwiched neatly as it was between two snowstorms which could have left half the band stranded in Broughton Gifford - a scenario that could quickly degenerate into mass cannibalism and general savagery.
What with the long break over Christmas and all, it's been such a long time since our last gig we were a bit concerned about how much we'd remember, but of course we needn't have worried - we remembered at least half of the set. Good to see some familiar faces come in from the cold again, as well as some much appreciated new ones, even if they were only drawn in by the sight of Mick's Cardiacs T-shirt through the window!

Crusty Jugglers...

2009-01-05T16:41:00.003Z

Not much to report on the gigging front over the traditionally dead fortnight at the year's end, apart from the worrying news that Chris is writing a Christmas song! With any luck he'll have forgotten all about it by this time next year, but just in case: I am NOT going to dye my beard white and wear a silly hat. Again.
Another New Year's Eve spent trying out inadvisable combinations of drinks in front of Jools Holland and his infernal boogie-woogie piano, whilst thinking about how I'd like to slam his head in it repeatedly...
Great to see Gavin over from France again though - 8 years is too long, we need to get better at staying in touch! He was a big hit with his nephews, too - it's something of an unfair advantage for an uncle to be so good at magic & juggling - he went back to France laden with English, er... delicacies to tempt the French palate, and keen observers will notice evidence that seasonal excesses have taken their toll on his waistline. Clearly it runs in the family, and there's therefore no point in trying to fight it.

Ho Ho Ho!

2008-12-15T17:00:00.006Z

No, it's not actually Santa giving a cheery greeting from his grotto, but Chris 'enjoying' a half-time fag outside the George, Bradford on Avon last Saturday. As you can tell, he's not overly keen on the new smoking restrictions... thanks to Gretchen for the pic - I think you were wise not to sit on his knee, though.

Inside was cosy & warm, and it was good to see a lot of familiar faces who braved the filthy weather, and also to meet Ruth, who knows more about the band than we do, including the words to all the songs, which may well come in handy if Chris keeps forgetting them faster than he writes them. A cracking gig, despite a migraine, a bad back & two different strains of flu (and that's just between the 5 of us in the band).

Back to Broughton Gifford for late night beers & JDs, while the rain hammered down unnoticed outside - until the next morning, when I splashed blearily up the path to my car, slithered in & headed out towards Atworth, with a bow wave in front of me & weird glugging noises from the exhaust... oh dear. Took quite while to find a navigable passage out, and I half expected to see Mick's narrowboat overtaking me.

Here's another of Gretchen's pics of the gig - the only one I could find where we don't look like a bunch of old winos. OK, maybe that's a stretch.

The Plough, Manston

2008-12-10T16:55:00.003Z

And so once more to the Plough in our favourite corner of Dorset, albeit a very difficult to find corner, at least when you take the admittedly rather perverse route I took. The usual mixture of local musos and farmers await, and as ever it's a good 'un. Unlike the place last week, the locals do know how to call for more, even if they sound like a cow in calf when they do it (according to Chris anyway, and he should know - he can do things with a calving rope that would make your eyes water). All credit to them, as their numbers were much reduced by a virulent plague that had most of the village in bed with a hot waterbottle & a lemsip, apparently.

Of course that could just be what they told us, in which case full marks for tact! We used to play at a pub in Bristol many years ago where the guv'nor had a knack for puncturing any bubble of optimism (or indeed will to live) we might have brought with us by dolefully announcing: "Course, there won't be many in tonight... they all came out for the band we had laaast night - fantastic, they were..."

Bayshill Tavern, Cheltenham

2008-12-02T17:07:00.002Z

After the roaring success of our last gig at Mr Wolfs, this one was bound to be quieter, especially as we're minus one tonight, Mick having a prior commitment.
Always a rather sedate venue anyway (feels more like playing a piano recital in your auntie's sitting room than a pub gig) - I've never seen anyone actually get out of their chair....
Also there's something up with the wiring, so every time I plug in my bass amp it starts seething & hissing like a basket of cobras. Ho hum. Still, there was a bigger crowd than usual and they obligingly stick around... pity no-one asks for any more until we've more or less cleared the gear away - you haven't worked out how this encore thing works, have you people?

Mr Wolfs, we loves you...

2008-11-22T14:58:00.003Z

Cracking gig at Mr Wolfs in Bristol last Saturday - support The Dirty Roger were highly entertaining, reminiscent of Captain Beefheart I thought, and they even had someone wearing a bear's head on stage, I have no idea why. Good stuff.
A completely rammed venue for us to play in front of, all leaping about like mad things, which inspired Mick to leave the cosy environs of the stage to go a-wandering through the crowd; a move that nearly backfired as he rapidly disappeared in a melee of dancing bodies, several of whom appeared behind me on the stage at one point, playing havoc with the effects pedals...
Our newer, rockier material seems to be going down very well, and when they finally let us go & the DJ sparked up, there ensued the now traditional mad scramble in the dark to get the stage cleared of all our gear whilst being danced on by dozens of drunken students - Chris was particularly chuffed when a flushed & panting young lady told him afterwards we were 'awesome'... must have been loud too, my ears were still ringing on Monday!

Just to ensure permanent hearing damage, went to see Opeth at the Carling Academy last night, and very good they were too, although the venue doesn't exactly cater for those of us of short stature - unless you get a good spot early on, you can't see a damned thing all night... it's an early night too, as the music finishes at 10pm so DJs can start - I was trying to explain this to two baffled Dutchmen from support band Cynic afterwards, and it didn't make much sense to me, either.
Took this photo of the army of roadies clearing the stage, thinking wistfully - one day, one day..!

http://www.opeth.com/ http://www.myspace.com/cyniconline
http://www.myspace.com/thedirtyroger

It was muddy in 1985, too...

2008-11-18T16:31:00.005Z

set20079
Originally uploaded by Dave Rownia

Stumbled upon this in Flickr after following links from the highly addictive site below - it's Martin's SuperVega at Glastonbury, the year we all tried to become freelance beer entrepeneurs! It didn't work out so well, as we broke the cardinal rule about getting 'high on your own supply', and also got taxed by the Angels, who were the 'official licencees'. Well, we weren't about to argue with them...
At the end of the festival we had to be towed out, and as I was the most susceptible to suggestion due to the various chemical inbalances in my brain at the time, I was sent under the bus with a towrope and an earnest plea from Martin to Not Attach It To The Front Axle! After lying in the mud giggling for a while, I attached it to the front axle & swam out.
Amazingly we made it off site relatively intact, barring an unfortunate incident with a sidepanel - I don't think Martin stopped shaking for days, though.

http://www.ukrockfestivals.com/

Inn on the Green & Fox 'n' Hounds

2008-10-28T20:54:00.002Z

Not two gigs on the same night, actually a fortnight apart, but thanks to my ISP I've been offline for over a week - thanks a bunch, guys...

The Inn on the Green is a massive great real ale pub on the Gloucester Rd in Bristol, which has just started dipping it's toe into the murky waters of live music. Nice people & a mouth-watering array of beers, albeit a bit brightly-lit for my tastes - I prefer my pubs dark, seedy & a bit sticky underfoot - and the set-up for music is initially unpromising; no carpets, curtains or soft furnishings coupled with a stone floor and high ceilings ring alarm bells straight away... we needn't have worried though, as there's plenty of bodies, and the sound sorts itself out once we get going.
It's our first time out with our shiny new member Mick too, and he immediately distinguishes himself by not only remembering all the songs (some of them better than me), but by bringing his very own troupe of dancing girls with him - mark my words, this lad will go far...
All in all an excellent gig, I hope we come back - and not just because it's round the corner from my house..!

The Fox & Hounds in Coaley is as usual a much quieter affair, though not for the hapless punters who had to try and eat their dinner while we soundchecked - sorry people, but it had to be done! One of those places where we're lucky if we play to double figures, but it doesn't matter 'cos they're actually listening & they like it. Probably our last time here, as the Guv'nor & his missus are hanging up their hats & retiring - cheers for the free beers, mate!

Where have all the bikers gone?

2008-10-17T20:15:00.003+01:00

OK, so we're not as pretty as the Coors (a band once described as "three models who escaped from Laboratoire Garnier and stole a fiddle on the way out"), and our own-brand perfume is unlikely to be as successful as Christina Aguilera's, but surely we're not so scary as to frighten off an entire pub full of bikers? If it wasn't news of our imminent arrival then something had put the wind up Scallys' clientele last Saturday, as we started off playing just to the barstaff & bouncers...
Eventually however a fair few people who weren't actually on the payroll turned up (among them some familiar faces, which is always good to see) and we ended up having a blast - well, I did anyway, and so did Ruth, though she did start to feel a bit queasy on the way home - probably too much excitement.

In other news, we've found our new mandolin player in the form of Mick Stanger, (ex Tribe of Cro), who also plays mandola and lead guitar, which should take our sound in some intriguing new directions. He's keen to get started, so we'll be tactically deploying him in the theatre of operations as soon as possible...

The Plough music festival

2008-09-24T14:37:00.002+01:00

A great idea this, organised by Elodie from the Plough at Manston - three nights of music in a huge marquee on the tarmac carpark at the side of the pub, with a cheap bar & camping in the field next door - a perfect setup.
We played the Thursday night, which was always going to be the trickiest in terms of getting people through the door, and sure enough despite the luvverly balmy September evening yer actual punters were a bit thin on the ground. I suspect the long, soggy weeks of the 'summer' have worn away everybody's resolve to party. Terrific marquee though, and the PA & sound guy did a great job (as did the barstaff - we did our level best to keep them fully occupied...)
I really hope the numbers were up for the following two nights, as we'd love to come back & do it again sometime. And I'm pleased to say that despite the Plough's rural location (try as I might I couldn't see any other buildings for miles), we got a noise complaint from someone who couldn't hear their telly...

Bye bye Nige...

2008-09-10T16:21:00.004+01:00

Another nice little gig at the Prom in Bristol last week, well attended despite the rain lashing down outside. I think everyone's got so used to the idea that it's going to rain all summer that we've resigned ourselves to it now. The Prom have installed a fancy new lighting rig, plus video screens that beam images of the stage to all those far-flung corners of the venue that people hide in to try & avoid the band... it wasn't working yet though, so they could cower in relative safety.
As it turns out, this was mandolin player Nige Lloyd's last gig with the band - he's just turned 50 and has decided to call it a day. Apparently, 'white collar' mandolin players are allowed to retire early because of the wear & tear on the fingers, whereas those of us in the 'blue collar' rhythmn section are compelled to carry on until at least 65. There is, of course, no upper limit for fiddle players.

So, a vacancy has opened up; aspiring candidates should possess all of the following:
1. A mandolin, or a 5 string banjo (tools not provided)
2. Ability to play said mandolin or 5 string banjo (otherwise you'll look pretty silly standing on stage)
3. A driving license & some wheels! (so you can like, get there & stuff)

Non essential, but advantageous:
4. Freakish strength, for loading/unloading gear from van.
5. Ability to survive for long periods with no sustenance other than petrol station Scotch eggs.

If you know someone who fits the bill, get in touch here or via the band website, and we'll come round with some chloroform & a sack!

Pontardawe Festival

2008-08-19T17:00:00.004+01:00

I cut it a bit fine getting here for our 3.15pm slot on the New Music stage, but not as fine as Nick, who got stuck in a jam on the M4 and eventually turned up at er... 3.15pm. I've never been so pleased to see him, as anyone who's ever had to play without a drummer will appreciate! We launched into our set in record time & knocked the socks off 'em, though I say so myself. Just as we came off, all the house lights suddenly went down, and the stage lighting came on. "Sorry," said the sheepish Stagemanager "I forgot..." We'd been wondering about the rather harsh lighting - shame really, as we look a lot better in the dark.
We must have done Ponty at least half a dozen times over the years, and for the life of me I can't remember one when it didn't chuck it down with rain. This year was no exception - by the time I got there on Saturday all vehicle movement was already banned onsite, leaving several well-refreshed gentlemen no option but to get around site by sliding through the mud on their ample bellies (see above). All good clean fun, until one particularly enthusiastic slide ended up at the feet of a couple of coppers wandering the site, who took a rather dim view as they inspected their not-so-shiny-anymore boots and mud-spattered blue serge trousers... cue comedy chase through mud, cheered on by large crowd of onlookers from the beer tent.
Spent most of the rest of Saturday camped out indoors at the New Music stage, which was dry, warm, and had a cheaper bar than the beer tent. Despite these obvious advantages, everyone else at the Festival seemed to prefer sloshing about outside in the mud & rain - more fool them, as they missed the excellent Jocanovic, and indeed the headliners Pressgang, who played a fantastic set to a smaller crowd than we had - I suspect that most people simply didn't know where it was...
Woke up Sunday morning, upside down in my sleeping bag, to the sound of rain drumming on the car roof - ah, the glamour of Rock 'n' Roll...

Rode Festival

2008-07-27T23:40:00.004+01:00

Aaaand another festival! ...I love playing festivals, it's a big part of what made me want to be in a band in the first place, way back in the mists of time when I was about 15 and had just come home from Reading Rock in 1981... some of the best experiences of my life have happened at festivals (N.B. Never shorten the word to 'festy'. That way lies madness.). Also some of the worst of course, but let's gloss over that.

Rode festival is a village-based event that raises money for local charities (we're talking the local Scout group, PTA, things like that), and we were chuffed to be asked to open it. OK, a later slot would have been better, but what the hell - we had a good onstage sound & a huge field to play in front of, and we did.

For such a small, locally run event, this was fantastically well organised - proper routes to the stage, loads of time to soundcheck, free food & drink for chrissakes! If only every gig was like this - and did I mention the tractor rides & pig racing?

Another nice surprise was the fact that we weren't the only band on the bill doing original material: sure, the headline act was a Who tribute band (I wonder if the bloke playing guitar has to endure countless heckles along the lines of: "So Pete, where's the book, then..?"), but there were a fair few doing their own stuff, among whom an outfit called Pinstripe particularly caught my ear. I'd have liked to have stayed & listened to more, but the unceasing and unreasonable demands of my entourage (aged 4 and 8) ruled that out...

Fair play to the bods in charge for striking a balance with the lineup though - I've been getting a bit pissed off recently with the tendency of event organisers to load the bill with covers & tribute bands, which can make the whole concept of a 'Festival' seem farcical (in my eyes, at least). I've got nothing against covers bands per se - there's some terrific musicians out on the circuit keeping people interested in seeing live music - but in my humble opinion, if you go to a festival you ought to be able to see some bands doing their own songs. Otherwise, you might as well stay at home and plug in yer iPod...

Alright, rant over - here's a pic of the gig - cheers, wife of mine..!

Gillingham Festival & Woolley St Festival

2008-07-21T16:59:00.005+01:00

No festivals for ages, then two come along at once! This was a bit of a logistical nightmare, but fun in a hectic kind of way. First up was Gillingham Festival in Dorset, a very slickly run operation where everyone fell over themselves to be helpful - we were issued with passes & plied with tea as soon as we arrived, which made a nice change from the usual "You're the band, then? Don't need you for another hour, sod off." If we'd asked for a big bowl of smarties with all the blue ones taken out, I'm sure they would have done their best to accomodate us...
Lovely big stage, nice sound, crowd a bit thin on the ground, but then that's what you get with an early afternoon gig. Apparently this one was recorded off the desk, which'll be interesting to hear - if it's halfway decent, I'll post it online.
Right, all pile in the van & off to Bradford on Avon for the 10th Woolley St Festival; a cheerfully shambolic charity fundraising affair in the street outside the George. We have to park quite a way away, and lug the gear up to the stage through the crowd (sadly without the sacktrucks, which got left behind), so we're knackered before we start. Luckily, there's about 4 hours to hang around and recharge our batteries before we play. I say luckily, but after a couple of hours of covers band hell, I wasn't so sure. At one point, an atrocious cover of Teenage Kicks was 'dedicated to John Peel', whom I'm sure would have gnawed his own leg off and beaten the singer to death with the soggy end if he'd heard it.
The headline act were a Pink Floyd tribute band who seemed to take themselves even more seriously than their heroes. They'd got a CD out apparently, which was being relentlessly plugged between everyone else's sets.
Bit of a head-scratcher, this: why would anyone in their right mind want to buy a CD of some half-assed tribute band doing Pink Floyd covers? If you like Pink Floyd then you've probably got their original albums already, surely? I mean, is it me..?
Anyway, to add injury to this insult they then decided to set up all their gear onstage before we went on. This left us and the bands after us with a titchy space to set up in, which didn't improve morale. Neither did our set being cut to half an hour, but what the hell, mustn't grumble - it sounded pretty good onstage and the crowd seemed to like it - which is the point of it, after all.
If this festival season has so far taught us anything, it seems to be that tribute acts & covers bands are now considered to be 'what everybody wants to hear', so it seems we have no option: we'll form a Billy in the Lowground tribute band! All we need now is a name... how about Barely in the Lowground..?

Two Rivers Folk Festival, Chepstow

2008-07-08T22:32:00.004+01:00

…And it came to pass that Billy in the Lowground travelled far to the West, yea even over the Great Bridge to the Land of the Welshmen. The omens were good, & it seemed that the Gods smiled upon our quest, but as we approached the place of Two Rivers the skies grew dark and mighty stormclouds gathered as was foretold by the seers...
There were brought together in that place all the tribes of Morris in a great and fierce multitude, and our band were sore afraid of their warpaint & jingling bells, except for Shirl, wife of Nigel, who was strangely attracted. But the Morrismen made us welcome, bidding us make camp with them and share their beer, saying: “Are ye not Morrismen also?” “Nay,” we replied, “for we are men of Nissan.” And there was much merriment and quaffing of ale.
And that night we played our songs to the assembled tribes, and our songs found favour with their ears (although they could not perceive us with their eyes, for in all their mighty longhouse there were no lights), and outside the storm howled and the rain lashed without ceasing…
On the second day they bade us play again, but in another place, and there we heard the bard Blabbermouth, who sang magical songs so clear and powerful that the rain ceased to fall, and the mighty crowd there gathered cried “More! More!” And we played them our songs then, and there was a great rejoicing and an heroic quaffing of ale, until the sun rose once more on the land.
And on the third day, as the Morrismen slumbered in their tents and the rain began once more to fall, we took our leave of the Land of the Welshmen, vowing to return once more when the leaves fall from the trees…

http://www.myspace.com/therealblabbermouth

Mr Wolfs, Bristol

2008-06-25T09:19:00.006+01:00

A benefit this one, for the Rainbow Centre for children - nice to feel that a night of loud music & vile debauchery is actually doing someone good for a change. Nearly didn't get off the ground though, as the house PA is strewn all over the floor in bits when we arrive... happily the PA equivalent of a paramedic is on the case, and quickly has it back together again with only a few bits left over.

The support band (whose name I didn't catch) are a lovely bunch of young chaps - about ten of them I think, but it was difficult to count as they wouldn't stop moving - and they certainly made a lot of noise. Really a lot.

When they'd done their thing (and we'd retrieved Nick from the pub down the road), we set to with a will and took the opportunity to try out some new stuff we've been working on, which seemed to go down well. As always in this venue, it doesn't fill up until late, but by the time we're done the joint is, if not exactly jumping, at least hopping from one foot to the other - not bad for a Thursday night.

Thanks again to Grekken for the photos, which as ever we fell upon greedily in the hope of finding any that make us look younger... any chance of smearing a bit of vaseline on the lens next time?! Either that, or it's time to break out the Grecian 2000...

http://www.rainbowcentre.org/

http://www.flickr.com/photos/17644302@N00/sets/72157604036135251/

The Chough, Salisbury

2008-06-02T16:00:00.003+01:00

Just to clear this up, a chough (pronounced chuff) is a crow-like bird that loves fishing grubs out of cowpats. Oh yes it is.

A completely foul night weatherwise last Thursday - flashfloods all over Somerset, and raining so hard I drove all the way down the A36 with my nose pressed against the windscreen, trying to stay to the left of the oncoming headlights. This had better be worth it...

The pub turns out to be an enormous sagging Tudor mansion of a place, with a bewildering number of rooms, antechambers, vestibules and corridors, plus several staircases that move around by themselves like the ones in Hogwarts, making every visit to the Gents an adventure. Despite all this ample space, we have to set up in a tiny alcove by the door, partially blocked by a pillar. Nige & I nearly disembowel each other whilst trying to tune up in 4 square feet of floorspace. Never mind, the place apparently "gets heaving" on a Thursday night...

Well, whaddya know - it doesn't. In fact, after we finish our first set (to the sound of some desultory clapping from some unseen punter in the furthermost reaches of the pub), the guv'nor tells us we might as well call it a night and pays us off! First time this has happened in 18 years! As we load the last of the gear back into the van, hundreds of punters materialise from nowhere and stream into the place, lured by the Now That's What I Call Happy Hardcore 58 that plays on a continuous loop... we make a quick exit before the guv'nor changes his mind.

Still, the Tesco over the road was open, so we could still get a few beers to take home - which just goes to prove that every cowpat has a nice juicy grub in it if you look hard enough...

Salisbury Arms, Christchurch

2008-05-12T15:22:00.003+01:00

First time at this place, so we have the obligatory detour to fully explore all the backstreets of Christchurch before we stumble across it. One of these days we'll get a SatNav. There's a bus stop right outside, so we get a bit mixed up with the queue whilst unloading the van - a couple of us nearly end up in Bournemouth, but eventually we're all in.
Nice, comfortable place with good acoustics, a low ceiling & Ringwoods beer - Hooray! Unfortunately, hanging from that ceiling is our nemesis: a Noise Limiter - Boo!
We've had untold problems with these hellish devices in the past, particularly with old drummer Mark, who could set one off with one thwack on his snare, but happily after 2 or 3 songs are cut off in their prime we find a level it can cope with. Bit offputting though, as you can't help but keep looking at the infernal machine & wincing in anticipation every time you get to a loud bit...
A good appreciative crowd in here too, though I'm not sure whether we'll be back since the sign outside said: "A one-off event! Not to be missed!" Time will tell...

Midsomer Norton Cricket Club

2008-05-06T16:50:00.002+01:00

I've just noticed I haven't mentioned our gig at the Prom a couple of weeks ago - not a deliberate omission, I was away for a week or so & forgot all about it. As far as I can remember it was a perfectly decent gig, as they tend to be in there, but feel free to disagree as my memory's not what it was. Also, my memory's not what it was.
And so to Midsomer Norton Cricket Club, an odd little venue for us, and thanks to that day's match being cancelled, a distinctly empty one too. Never mind, the (very apologetic) people who did show up liked us, so we didn't really need the cricket boxes & shinpads. And we even got a free pint & a burger at halftime - result! And I was relieved (though secretly a little disappointed) that no-one attempted to tamper with our balls.
We'll be back on Sunday 24th August though, for their music all-dayer (top of the bill: Suzi Quatro & the Wurzels - seperately, I assume), which should be a good 'un. Last time we supported the Wurzels was at the Cheese & Grain in Frome a few years back, and I still remember their roadie's reply to our query about the length of their set: "They only do an hour," he confirmed, "Any more'n that, they'll 'ave to call a f***in' ambulance..."

The Plough, Manston

2008-04-09T16:07:00.002+01:00

A welcome return to this little gem of a pub last Friday, and amazingly we even managed to find it with no bother. After the last time Nige had wisely left early, and was just tucking into a big plate of dinner when we arrived, so was unfortunately unable to help lug all the gear in. The man's a genius.
A welcome return also to my beloved Laney bass amp, finally free of snaps & crackles after long weeks of toil by the elves of Malmesbury! Until just after the soundcheck anyway, when the thrice-cursed thing exploded like Krakatoa... back to the elves it goes, leaving me to muddle through with my titchy little practise amp. Ruthie reassures me that "size doesn't matter" - well, it bloody does when it comes to bass amps..!
Never mind, a few pints are a sovereign cure for all ills, even expensive ones that smell like burnt insulation, and the gig goes splendidly - we even get 2 or 3 new gigs out of it, which can't be bad.

In Hell they give you Rum

2008-03-28T16:04:00.001Z

Here's another animoto video, using one of our oldest songs, In Hell they give you Rum. This version was recorded on Food for Thought in '95. I used mostly old photos in this one - blimey don't we look young...

Jagerbar, Melksham

2008-03-25T21:54:00.003Z

We nearly ran over a deer on the way here - spooky...
Actually part of the Bear in Melksham, this new venue was only finished the day before, and we played the opening night on Good Friday. The landlord & his family had obviously worked like trojans to get everything finished in time, with a lot of sponsorship help from Jagermeister (favourite tipple of folk-metallers Korpiklaani and good ol' Metallica, by all accounts). It tastes like a (very) alcoholic cough mixture, and comes in test-tubes at -15c. Yum.
The place itself is vast & cathedral-like, with a cavernously high ceiling & a stone floor - in other words, it's an acoustic nightmare, as rapidly becomes apparent as we try to soundcheck. Oh well, let's hope some bodies will soak up the cacophony; off to the bar we go, just to do a bit more quality testing on that Jagermeister...
In the end we needn't have worried - most of the population of Melksham have turned out to check the place out, and a fair proportion of them even stay when we start playing, so the sound ends up pretty good. We are even treated to a unique display of Traditional Dancing, which involves rolling your trousers up to the knee and scuttling about like a crab. I got an unprofessional fit of the giggles at this point, and corpsed completely in the middle of a song...
By the end of the night we were all a bit hoarse, but luckily the Landlord was on hand with more of his special cough medicine. It did make me a bit drowsy, though... on balance, think I'll stick to Guinness.

A very quiet St Patricks night...

2008-03-18T15:43:00.003Z

Last time we played the Bayshill Tavern in Cheltenham was pretty lively, so we had high hopes for this Saturday the 15th, especially as the Cheltenham Gold Cup had just finished and the town should still be knee-deep in merry Sons of Erin intent on spending their winnings...
Apparently not though; Chris's enquiry "So, any winners in tonight?" produces no response.
"Er... anyone lose their shirt, then?" Glum silence. It's going to be one of those gigs.
And not a green stovepipe hat or a Guinness promotion in sight, either - Ireland's bishops in their wisdom have apparently decreed that Saturday is the official St Patricks Day, rather than the traditional 17th, because this would clash with Holy Week, whatever that is.
Well, you can't expect much sense from a church that expects it's priests to stay celibate but doesn't mind a bit of ritual cannibalism, but this actually seemed like a pretty good idea to me - people are going to erm... 'celebrate' a lot more on a Saturday than a Monday, after all. Pity no-one told 'em.

King William, Glastonbury

2008-03-12T16:56:00.003Z

Here we are again and Nige is back in the fold, his poorly wrist all better - as far as we can make out, he injured it falling backwards over an aerobics step - proof (if it were needed) that exercise is something best left to young, fit people...
The King Willy is on the High Street, squeezed in between the hordes of shops all eager to service the incense, candle & dreamcatcher needs of Glastonbury's pilgrims. Normally a fairly quiet gig this one, and with 4 other bands playing within a few streets of us, plus a Battle of the Bands at the Town Hall, we weren't expecting anything different, but unaccountably the place is packed, and people are up & dancing to the first song (I can only surmise that the 'Battle of the Bands' was more of a massacre, but we're not complaining!). They won't let us go until we've exhausted our repertoire of encores either, the slavedrivers...

Mr Wolfs, Bristol

2008-03-04T10:10:00.004Z

Great little venue this - nice PA, right in the centre of Bristol, and bursting at the seams with people; one tiny gripe - no draught beer! AAaagh! Man cannot live by lager alone! But man will have bloody good try nonetheless.
No mandolin on this outing, as Nige has apparently injured his wrist in A Bizarre Exercising Accident, details of which remain shrouded in mystery... in fact, it was touch & go whether we'd have a drummer, after Nick scalded his hand in A Bizarre Baked-Bean Accident earlier this week (I'm not making this up). Lovers of Spinal Tap will see where I'm going with this, but fear not - Chris has already survived a Bizarre Gardening Accident a few years back, when a ride-on lawnmower exploded under him. Ouch.
First up tonight are the Monaros, a new band from Bristol playing only their 4th ever gig, though you wouldn't know it - bags of confidence, good poppy songs and a gorgeous singer - can't go wrong. The mostly youngish crowd loved 'em, and many thanks from me to their bassplayer, who lent me his rather splendid amp for our set, as mine is still sulking in a corner of a repair shop in Malmesbury.
We quickly barred the doors to prevent any escapes, and gave the audience both barrels - great fun, and one of the best gigs we've played in quite a while - loud, hot, sweaty & dark, just the way we like it. Great to see some familiar faces again too, especially Ally & Sol.
Oh, and ta to Grekken for the pic of our own gorgeous singer above!

http://uk.myspace.com/monaros
http://www.flickr.com/photos/17644302@N00/sets/72157604036135251/

Fox & Hounds, Coaley

2008-02-27T15:37:00.003Z

Once again we turned up far too early to this place, forgetting that we have to wait around for people to finish eating in the restauranty-type bit before we can get on with soundchecking... still, we lugged all the gear in, overlooked apprehensively by the Saturday night dining crowd, and Chris, Nick & Nige all retired to the bar to gawp at the unprecedented spectacle of England actually beating France at Rugby. Apparently this is of interest to some people.
Ruth & I contented ourselves with hiding behind the drumkit, peering out at the merrily noshing punters like a couple of malevolent goblins...
Time ticked on, and the prospect of a reasonably early night was gradually receding so Chris took an executive decision & we started playing anyway. That put paid to any polite after-dinner conversation, but amazingly most of 'em stayed, even the couple bravely cowering under one of the PA speakers, determined to finish their tiramisu in the face of the aural assault.
Cor, makes yer proud to be British, dunnit?

Scallys, W-S-Mare

2008-02-13T15:46:00.003Z

Ah, Weston Super Mare... home of the International Helicopter Museum, the Lambretta Scooter Museum and, last but not least, the Weston Miniature Railway! And during the summer months, home to thousands of sunburned & drink befuddled Brummies, for some reason.
No sign of them in Scallys tonight - nor anyone else, come to that. Where are the usual crowd of happy bikers (you can tell they're happy, from the flies stuck to their teeth!)? Possibly they're all at the Lambretta Museum? No. Probably not.
Save for a jolly hardcore who disconcertingly seem to know our material (and back catalogue) even better than we do, punters are a bit thin on the ground tonight, which is a shame 'cos we get the best sound we've ever had down here, due in no small part to the lovely bass amp I borrowed from Ali - a truly monstrous beast that takes four grown men to lift it out of the van. Or just me & Chris and a lot of swearing...

Fiddlers, Bristol

2008-02-03T15:25:00.000Z

After a gap of about 10 years (where did the time go?) a welcome return to my favourite Bristol venue, the excellent Fiddlers club down in Bedminster, still run by the avuncular Joe Cleary & his son Dan, and apparently unchanged apart from a new monster PA suspended from the ceiling above the stage - woo hoo! Last time here was as support for the Oysterband I think, but tonight was a triple-header with old mates The Dolmen, a terrific pagan folk band from down on the South coast, and the John E Vistic Experience from Bristol.
The Dolmen kicked proceedings off in fine style - since I last saw them they've had a few line-up changes and are now much harder edged than before, but still with their infectious sense of fun that has the crowd up & dancing straightaway. They've also got a very good blonde bass player who, as was pointed out to me on several occasions, is much prettier than me... honestly, I brushed my beard especially, what more do people expect?
John E Vistic started their set with a couple of quiet, introspective songs, then gradually increased the pace - great, driving songs with a voice that put me in mind of Tom Waits or a young Johnny Cash. And he's not putting it on, either - he sounds like that offstage as well!
By now, time was starting to run away with us somewhat... in fact it had blindfolded us, bundled us in the boot of a car and driven us out to the middle of nowhere. By the time we took to the stage it was 12.30, and waayyy past our bedtime, but the hardcore had stuck around and we had a blast. Nice to catch up with so many people we hadn't seen in ages too, especially Ally our old sound engineer, and old mate Rick.
Only fly in the ointment for me was that at some point in the evening my wheezing old amp coughed it's guts out & died. A minutes silence seems appropriate, broken only by snaps, crackles, pops & ominous fizzing noises...

http://www.thedolmen.com/
http://www.vistic.co.uk/

The Plough, Manston

2008-01-20T15:11:00.000Z

A new venue for us this, and almost impossible to find (especially by Nige's SatNav, which apparently took him for a mystery tour through several counties before reluctantly agreeing to show him the way), which is a pity 'cos it's well worth looking for; an unspoilt country pub with real ale, no juke box and a landlady who's not afraid to put on bands that are 'a bit different'.
They do food too, and a few diners retreated in terror as we lugged all our huge threatening looking black boxes through the door... they all came back though, and it turned out to be one of the best pub gigs I can remember playing in a long time - no doubt helped by the pints of Palmers courtesy of the landlady (almost unheard of in this day & age, and very welcome they were too).
Apparently they do an outdoor mini-festy in the summer which we might be back for - hope so, as it's a really friendly place, and I've got a bit of a taste for that Palmers, now...

Bayshill Tavern, Cheltenham

2008-01-14T20:44:00.000Z

Second time at this venue, and a combination of flooding and road closures meant we only just made it in time. Nice pub, quite posh (you can tell it's posh - there's a carpet, and it ain't sticky), but the mainly older crowd actually listen, which counts for a lot.
Bafflingly however, despite their obvious enthusiasm, they don't call out for more when we finish - this leaves us with a bit of an 'encore etiquette' conundrum; do we:
a. Ask if they want any more? A risky strategy this, as you run the risk of complete indifference, or even worse, a stampede of boots towards the exit.
b. Play another couple anyway, which looks a bit 'staged' - what was the point of saying "that was the last one" if it wasn't? Or...
c. Shuffle about indecisively for a bit, then pull all the leads out & scuttle to the bar. Needless to say, we went for c.

On a totally unrelated topic, the flyer above is for a new play about the last days of the late, great Brendan Behan, uncle to our Ruthie, written by her sister, which opens later in January - see http://www.brendanatthechelsea.com/ for details.

"It’s the Sixties, New York and we are in that legendary bohemian bolt hole, The Chelsea Hotel. Arthur Miller is just across the hall, the sound of Ornett Coleman is drifting down from the penthouse and the symphony of 24th Street is rising up and in through the open window of Brendan Behan’s room. He’s broke, hung over and way past the delivery date of his latest book, the first line of which he has yet to write. He was told to stop drinking or he’d be dead in six months – that was two years ago."

Hell, we've all been there...

Loudest Drummer in the World rediscovered in Frozen North!

2008-01-04T16:29:00.000Z

Believed for many years to be extinct, Mark Rodgers, the last drummer for the Brew Band, has resurfaced in Glasgow. He's now beating the living daylights out of his kit for the Scruffs, along with ex-Brew Band bass player Simon Cottrell (whose amp I once rather embarassingly threw out of a van... I wonder if he's forgiven me yet?)

Here they are on the back of their new release Pop Manifesto:

http://www.thescruffs.com/index.html

The George, Bradford on Avon

2007-12-29T18:32:00.000Z

Blimey, a whole month without a gig, and for once I'm not driving! Beer, beer!
We used this one to try out a few new songs we've been working on, plus a revised set-list without any gaps, which seemed to work out pretty well apart from not giving me enough time to slurp beer, which was probably just as well.
The most people we've ever seen in this venue tonight; clearly everyone has had enough of Christmas and is ready for some serious drinking - so serious in fact that we don't leave the pub till gone one a.m., the landlord having gone to bed.
An excellent night all round - and judging from my head this morning, I must have managed to slurp more beer than I supposed...
Oh well, good practise for New Years Eve (otherwise known as Amateur Night). It's been a few years since we had a gig on that date, and once again I'll be spending it watching Jools Holland & his soddin' Hootenanny on the telly. Whoopdedoo!

Rave from the Grave...

2007-11-29T16:23:00.000Z

You'd think it would be easy to mime to one of your own songs, wouldn't you? Think again... this was filmed in around 1995 (it's a bit hazy) for a now-defunct cable TV station that operated out of some Portacabins at the back of HTV West, who I suspect had an extension cable going out through their toilet window that they knew nothing about. The production values of this video have been much admired, particularly the 'no expense authorised' visual effects...

We were still called the Brew Band at the time (later on, Chris got fed up with our being constantly mistaken for the infamous 'Brew Crew', which probably lost us quite a few gigs), and this line-up includes the original drummer 'Old Man' Pete, Lenny on the whistle and Tim on mandolin, who kindly sent me a DVD of this. Tim was well known for making himself as inconspicuous as possible at gigs, usually hiding behind a speaker stack if possible - this explains the somewhat panicky expression he wears in the video. In fact, we had to tie his foot to a drainpipe to stop him from running away.

I've inexpertly chopped off the start & end of the song, as the worryingly 'perky' presenter kept leaning into shot to update her 43 viewers on local traffic reports and lost pets...

Right, you asked for it...

2007-11-22T15:47:00.000Z

In complete disregard of my own 'sufficiently flattering' guidelines above, I present this picture of me sweating attractively at Ashton Court. Gavin challenged me to post a photo with nothing but a guitar, but a quick canvass of the mums at the school gate down the road yielded no-one willing to take such a shot, despite my pleading that I really was extremely cold. God, that was a long walk home...

Still, it took guts to post this one - some of them are visible in fact, hanging over my belt. This was taken in about 1995 though, since when I have embarked on a rigorous programme of self-improvement - as I always say, why settle for a six-pack when you could have a Party Seven?

Gavin ups the ante... look away now!

2007-11-16T16:23:00.000Z

Shocking evidence comes to light of what happens when you move to France & go into 'showbusiness'! Apparently Gavin is now performing with these other leggy lovelies in a lap-dancing joint in downtown Marseilles, for the gratification of visiting sailors.
Full marks to Gavs for accessorizing though - the belt & hat combo does it every time. I'm slightly worried about the guy to his right - perhaps he did a bit of shopping on the way to work and couldn't find anywhere to stash his legumes? Either way, I'm sure he's a hit with the sailors... Not sure how this affects the 'which Simpson is better looking' debate, but if you think I'm posting a picture of me in my pants, you've got another think coming...

The Tap, Portsmouth

2007-11-11T11:02:00.000Z

Better be a good gig, this one - I turned down a free ticket to http://www.hardrockhell.com/ at Butlins for this!
An inauspicious beginning though; Nige rang before we left to let us know he was returning home to throw up, so one man down before we started. A long drive later, we arrive in Portsmouth with our usual back-of-envelope instructions and proceed to get so lost we actually have to leave town & come back for another try...
We eventually find the pub, and I manage to slice my finger open unloading the van. So far, so good.
A large group of punters in flagrant breach of Government guidelines on alcohol intake were noisily abusing each other as we set up - one gent, honking like an elephant seal at the object of his affections, stuck in my mind particularly: "MAUDE! I'M GONNA DUST IT OFF FOR YER, MAUDE!" (repeat, ad nauseum)
Soundcheck done, everyone retired outside for a fag, while I kept an eye on the gear and seriously considered taking up smoking...
The gig itself went OK and we even got a festival gig out of it, but as we packed down the gear a Dean Gaffney lookalike made an ill-advised comment on the physical charms of another bloke's sister, and the whole place erupted into a vicious bar-room brawl that wouldn't have looked out of place in a spaghetti Western... chairs & glasses were flying, bottles were smashed over heads, and if it was the kind of place that had chandeliers, someone would have been swinging on them.
Eventually the various enormous, shaven-headed chavs & their attendant flotilla of shrieking harpies left, leaving the monumentally bored looking barmaid to sweep up the glass while the harassed landlord dealt with the Police, who had sensibly been waiting round the corner until it all died down before putting in a appearance.
In fact the landlord wanted to come with us when we left, and I can't say I blame him.

Bayshill Inn, Cheltenham

2007-10-31T17:08:00.000Z

A new one this, & usually a jazz'n'blues venue, according to the landlord (a diamond geezer from Poplar). Oh dear. Two words to strike fear into the heart of any band doing original material, those (others include drum'n'bass and (gulp) Door Money). Luckily though it went down very well - a good turnout and gratifyingly enthusiastic too - special thanks to the couple who came over from Stroud after seeing us at the festival there.
We'll be back in March, apparently.

No contest.

2007-10-15T16:39:00.000+01:00

In response to an earlier comment (you know who you are, anonymous!) I present photographic evidence that I am clearly much better looking than Gavin - just take a look at his hastily assembled disguise: the cheap sunglasses, the obviously false beard, and where did he get that hat? Plus you can tell from the shape of his earlobes he has criminal tendencies.

Fox & Hounds, Coaley

2007-10-15T15:11:00.000+01:00

We turned up uncharacteristically early for this one, and couldn't get our gear in until the punters had finished eating - very nice it looked too, as we stood out in the carpark, our tiny tear-stained faces pressed against the windows...
Sustained with scampi fries & pork scratchings, we Disturbed the Peace for a couple of hours to general acclaim, and even managed to line up a possible gig in a forest next June! Although that may turn out to be an elaborate ruse to lure us out into the wilds before butchering and eating us, of course. I really must stop watching those films...

Video - I've seen it, and it's the future!

2007-10-02T13:13:00.001+01:00

Here's a short video courtesy of the very clever people at animoto.com. Cheers to Steve Mitchell for some of the images of Gav's bus..!

The Prom, Bristol

2007-09-20T16:21:00.000+01:00

Another very agreeable night at the Prom last week; dunno what it is about this place but we always like playing here - it's like slipping into a nice warm bath... with beer, of course.
So pleasant in fact, that I can't think of anything to say about it that I haven't said already.
Now, where's the loofah..?

Stroud Fringe Festival

2007-09-12T17:33:00.000+01:00

Second year we've done this one, and hopefully not the last - I like Stroud, it's a very laid back kind of a place, with some of the most exuberant facial hair I've seen all summer - particularly impressive was the gent with the dreads - you know who you are, sir.
The Cornhill stage is in an area that's usually a covered market, backing on to what used to be the Pelican - scene of many a raucous night in the band's early years, including the time the first bassplayer had a lurcher vomit over his foot. Ah, them were the days...
Our personal cloud of misfortune was evidently hovering over us once again, as the previous band on had made an enviable job of clearing the entire area of human life whilst leaving the buildings standing. Rather like a musical Neutron bomb, by all accounts.
Still, they all came filtering back as soon as we started, and it turned out nice again in the end.
Last year, an unfortunate roadie fell down a set of steps with my bass amp on top of him, but he didn't seem to be there this time. Wonder why?

King William, Glastonbury

2007-08-27T00:16:00.001+01:00

Nice change to be able to play without wellies! Saying that, it would have been quite nice to have an audience, but you can't have everything. This was the first pub gig we've played since the July 1st smoking ban, and there's a distinct lack of punters in the place this evening - they're all outside, enjoying the warm late summer evening, a fag, and the relative peace & quiet. And who can blame them.
Respec ( as the Yoot have it) to the geezer who bought one of our CDs to take to the Canaries - I've already packed my bucket & spade in anticipation of the tour...

Pontardawe Festival

2007-08-27T00:16:00.000+01:00

It's likely to be raining, I thought; it's Wales, after all - best put the wellies in the back of the car. No other preparation necessary for this one - it's a lovely litle folk festival situated conveniently near to an enormous Lidl, which takes cars of all your pre-festy bogroll & beer needs (anything else is pure self-indulgence. I survived for 2 weeks at Stonehenge in 1983 with nothing but a £20 note and a family sized packet of McVities Digestives. Mind you, at the end of that 2 weeks I was sitting on the seafront in Bournemouth wrapped in a stained blanket, begging loose change from passers-by in German. But that's another story.)
Two gigs at this festival: first spot on the Friday night on the New Music stage, which went off extremely nicely as far as we could tell from behind the blinding stage lights. I was even asked by an enthusiastic Younger Person if they could have my plectrum when we finished - I had to explain that I only had the one, and I needed it for tomorrow night... in retrospect, I should have given it to him & basked in the momentary glow of alcohol-induced fame & glory, but where was I to get another Jim Dunlop .73mm pick in a muddy field in Wales at that time of night?
Did I mention the mud? Overnight (an uncomfortable one for me, spent as it was in the boot of my elderly Nissan with Joe's microscooter as a pillow) it rained like it only can rain in Wales, and by the time I woke at the crack of noon on the Saturday (a traumatic awakening, involving an urgent pressure on the bladder coupled with a complete & utter inability to extricate myself from the aforementioned boot) the site had been transformed into a reasonable facsimile of the Somme. All vehicle movements on site were banned, which left us with the interesting problem of how to get all our gear to the stage for our next gig in the Beer Tent...
Over the years, I've arrived at gigs in many and varied forms of transport, including motorbikes, buses, taxis, helicopters & an amphibious landing craft. This was a first, though - never before have I arrived backstage with a fleet of commandeered wheelbarrows. Gave the performance an extra frisson too, keeping one eye on our transport to make sure no-one nicked 'em...
Terrific gig - you can't beat playing your heart out in front of a tentful of people who are 100% with you - that's the reason we do this, after all - as I've said before, if we were in it for the money, we'd all have starved to death years ago.
I'll draw a veil over the horrible scenes the next morning - suffice to say I was towed off site by an enormous forklift which sprayed mud all over my windscreen as it pulled me through the mire towards the exit; with hindsight, perhaps it was a mistake to wind the window down at that point...

All Hands to the Pump!

2007-07-23T16:42:00.000+01:00

As most of the country gradually foundered beneath the waves, West Country folkies showed they were made of sterner stuff than those fey indie-festival types, and with beards bristling and tankards aloft (and that's just the women) squelched throught the sodden fields to the 34th Trowbridge Village Pump.

Here you can see a Steward watching a small girl sink slowly into the morass... ignoring her pitiful cries, he wandered off in the direction of the bar. As did I. I'm almost sure she got out, though...

Highlights for me on the Friday night were The Cedar, a terrific band doing some really haunting original stuff, and The Rhythm-ites, who now seem to be fronted by the rather grumpy bloke who sings (or rather mutters in a terse monotone) for RDF. Jolly good, though.

Our spot was at 5.30 on the Saturday, and it went off rather splendidly, all things considered, despite a few sartorial challenges; I had to forsake my usual silver Cuban heels for a pair of stout wellies, and Chris couldn't get the pilot-light on his flame-throwing codpiece to stay lit (maybe next time). Ruth wore a pink cowboy hat. No-one knows why.

Barring a couple of minor technical disasters of the 'walking across the stage & pulling the guitar-lead out' variety, probably our best gig of the year so far - no small thanks to the large (and very vocal!) Trowbridge contingent - cheers, peeps!

Bournemouth Live Festival

2007-07-04T16:20:00.000+01:00

It's a long way to Bournemouth, it turns out - and lots of other people seem to be going there too (to see us, perhaps? Apparently not, as it turned out). We're supposed to be on stage at 6.30, but it's quarter past and we're still driving in circles around the town centre, looking in vain for some sort of sign of a festival going on - have we even got the right day? Chris is becoming increasingly irate, and has turned a worrying shade of purple.
Luckily, Shirl has got there already & located the stage, and brings us in for a landing via mobile phone - and just in time; we pile out of the van and throw the gear onstage while Shirl heroically goes to get us all a beer. Lovely stage, too - nice PA, swarms of cheerful sound guys, loads of lights... no audience, of course, but you can't have everything - where would you put it?
Ready to go in double-quick time, all we need now is that beer - alas, the beer tent is fenced in behind a silly little picket fence, which no-one is allowed to take any drinks out of, thanks to some arcane Council regulation - we can see Shirl sitting there with 5 pints, waving frantically...
There's no time left - we have to plunge straight into our set with no lubrication, which is never a good idea...
At one point, around 200 foreign students materialise stage right - an audience at last! But despite (or possibly because of) our earnest entreaties, they march straight through and exit stage left. This leaves us with several sullen Yoot in hoodies, a brace of bemused elderly ladies and a retired Colonel with a video camera - doubtless collecting evidence for some future prosecution.
We soldier on regardless, and all credit to the soundcrew, it sounds fantastic onstage - it's also extremely hot thanks to all those lights, especially with no beer... the last 3 songs are performed with indecent haste and a mad scramble for the beer tent ensues, where we collapse into a sweaty heap and watch the next band, who do their best to enliven an even smaller crowd with some Snow Patrol covers. A drunk Welsh couple dance.

Dursley Arms, Trowbridge

2007-06-25T18:35:00.000+01:00

"Someone's pulled out at the last minute, and the guvn'r wants to know if we can step in" said Chris on the phone last Thursday.
"Tell Mr Eavis we'll be there! Is it the Pyramid Stage or the other one?"
"It's the Dursley Arms in Trowbridge."
"Oh."
Well, a gig's a gig... as it turned out, a jolly fine one too - lots of room to play with and a small but enthusiastic bunch of locals who actually listened, and by all accounts loved it; one chap came up afterwards and told me "That was the best bass I've ever heard in here!" What a nice man - either that or he doesn't get out much.
Nick also made an impression - another gent asked him if he was married; apparently "a friend asked me to ask you." Yes mate, a friend - of course it was...
Even Ruth was looking revived by the end of the night - no mean feat, as she was by her own account "Perrified"- a condition brought about by excessive consumption of pear cider the night before. Apparently it had 'ectoplasm' in it, which probably didn't help.
And at the end of the night, we didn't even get our boots muddy - who needs Glastonbury anyway?

Scallys in Weston - and a new CD!

2007-06-18T16:09:00.000+01:00

Ahh... the fresh sea air, the extra-cold Guinness and the unmistakeable whiff of skunk as we hump the gear through the front door - I love this place!

Not a bad turnout either, considering the landlord and most of the regulars were off on a bike run for the weekend (some people will go to any lengths to avoid us, apparently) - nice to see some familiar faces, and even better we had some lovely new CDs to sell them! Yes, the many gruelling hours of labour in the studio have finally ended, and we've got a brand new bouncing baby album to play with. It's called "An arrangement with myself", and we're rather pleased with it. I'm currently uploading the whole thing to last.fm (see posts below), so give it a listen and let us have some feedback.