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...
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