3pm on a sunny Sunday afternoon? Who wants to sit in a dark pub drinking beer at a time like that? Well me, obviously; but as I had to drive to this one, I had to just watch everybody else...
Some gigs everything goes just right - no major cock-ups, no broken strings, Chris even remembered the words to his own songs, and hardly insulted anyone. We played pretty well too, even though I say so myself.
One small fly in the ointment was the distinct lack of audience, but hey, that's never stopped us before. The worst night I can remember was in Germany at a club called Poison, in the middle of a godforsaken industrial estate somewhere near Reutlingen - an enormous P.A., a dazzling lighting rig, and we played to the barstaff. Apparently they didn't usually open on a Wednesday night...
Still, there was a small but sturdy band of the sort of ne'er-do-wells who usually come & see us there, and they did us proud, all except the large alsation who slunk off next door with his ears flat & his hackles up...
To cap it all, the extremely charming Landlord offered us a drink when we'd finished - that's free drink! Which I had to turn down! AAaaghh!
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