Greetings, my little peccadilloes.

And a warm welcome to this week’s missive, keeping you updated with all that’s good in the world of rawk’n’roll. And as I don’t know what happened there this week, I’ll tell you instead about what we did.

Saturday night, and a lovely jaunt to the Golden Fleece in Bath, where we met most of the usual regulars there (including their resident uncanny Michael Palin doppelganger), and also the delightful Louise, for whom we played a birthday party last year, who had come out especially to see us (and not even to ask for her money back).

We decided – rather rashly – to try out a couple of songs which we’d only learned this week, and I have to say were mightily pleased with the audience response.

“Thanks so much” announced Emma, “Right, then – looks like I’d better learn the right words to those ones…”.

In fact, I was having so much fun that we had to cut the final song of the first set short, as I actually managed to break my D string (for those not familiar with the technicalities of electric guitar – you have to be REALLY BLOODY HAM FISTED to break one of those).

Being too lazy to fix it and then try to get the new string stretched in, I played the second set on my spare axe – and THIS, folks, is why a chap needs more than one guitar.

But, if anyone knows why a chap actually needs eight or nine*, please do write and let my wife know, she’s been dying to find out.

After the gig, a very cheery looking chap came up to me to shake my hand, and said,

“Alan…?”

He didn’t look like a tax inspector, so I replied tentatively, “…Yes…?”

“I just wanted to say, I read your blogs every week, and I really enjoy them.”

“Well, thank you very much, that’s very nice of you to say so”.

It was only in the van home that I realised…

Here I am, been playing my heart out for the past two hours, not only jumping around like a twat but also performing some quite complex melodic improvisation and a significant degree of passion and commitment (witness broken D string) – and then somebody comes up afterwards to compliment me on my writing skills….

Now, then – if you listen very hard, right now; that faint sound you hear on the distant breath of the breeze – that’s Emma, still laughing at me…

Anyways – coming up next: –

Oh. It’s a weekend off.

Dammit. I suppose it gives me a chance to restring that axe.

Square on
A

*Yes, I actually have lost count**.

** to be fair, there are several stringed instruments around the house that aren’t specifically mine, having been passed through various offspring over the years. And, does a bass count? How about a ukulele? Anyway – clearly I don’t have enough yet…