Mr Wolfs, we loves you...

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...

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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

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?

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

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...

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

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...