Good evening; and here is the news….
Friday night, and a trip to the Trout in Keynsham to unveil not one, not two, not three, but four (yes, four, count ‘em!) songs we’d not gigged before. Actually, I failed to count ‘em and mistakenly left one off the setlist; fortunately Em remembered about it and scribbled it back in just before we started playing.
Poor Em. Somehow she managed to bugger up one of her knees last week, but armed with lots of medical strapping and some weapons-grade painkillers, she heroically made it to the gig, and actually managed to get most the way through proceedings still upright. Alas, near the end, she could bear the pain no more and had to have a chair fetched and her leg propped up to finish off the second set.
I wish I’d taken a photo – probably the least rawk’n’roll “Foot on Monitor” image ever…
Still, it was a rather fine night, so we were eagerly looking forward to the Saturday session at the Cat & Wheel. And, it didn’t disappoint.
The first set was enlivened by a rather boisterous Aussie Rules football team, who were out celebrating winning the shiny trophy they’d just won; they were also drinking out of a pair of children’s pink sparky wellies, and at one point one of the chaps tried to persuade her to swap her microphone for the large purple dildo he was holding.
“Tempting though the offer is”, she tells the crowd, “Seeing the way he handles that thing, I think I’d best stick to what I’m used to – he’s clearly much more experienced with that kind of thing…”
The gentleman seems well pleased with this.
By the second set, poor Em’s knee is misbehaving again, and she has to resort to sitting on the bar stool we’ve cunningly set aside for just such an occasion.
Sitting down, she’s substantially taller.
So, we play the second set to an appreciative crowd, alas now bereft of dildos, until we run past the end of the music licence. Then we play another one, and call it a night.
Right then, we have no gigs planned this weekend – Ben will be busy moving house, and Em will resting her poorly leg.
After which, we should be match fit and ready to go for the next batch of gigs; as long as Ben can remember where he now lives…