Ahoy there funsters!
Well, we had a lovely time down the Old Mill in Portishead on Saturday. A very lively bunch, there was dancing and singing a-plenty from the get-go, plus all the usual spilling of drinks and stumbling into monitors that go along with it.
I had to draw the line, though, at the young lady who thought she’d be a hilarious comedy genius by fiddling with the mixing desk controls as we were playing – I managed to attract her attention with a delicately placed boot so that I could give her a little advice.
“Fuck off”, I advised her.
She looked slightly affronted, but nonetheless, off she fucked, so we were able to carry on unhindered.
Much more welcome stage incursions came in the form of our special guest star Paige; she comes along to gigs whenever she can to sing a few tunes with us; she’s now got her own band project together, and – if I remember correctly – she told me they’re playing down at the Fleece on July 13th. Always happy to plug other people’s gigs, if I like them.*
So – a jolly fine gig, Abby’s spanking new wireless mic behaved itself very well – unlike my guitar, which thanks to a dodgy switch, suddenly died early in the second set; and this, folks, is why carting around a spare axe to every gig finally paid off! In retrospect, perhaps I shouldn’t have chosen my experimental multi-scale fan fret machine as a spare – whilst it does offer, as promoted by the clever folks of the internet, “superior tension balance across all strings and additional ergonomic benefits”, none of the bloody frets are where I expect them to be, forcing me to actually concentrate on what I’m doing instead of on prancing around like a big nancy. Oh, well. It got us through the night, and we likes a challenge, now and again.
Next up – a local midweek frenzy, and a Saturday night excursion to a part of Bristol I’d never even heard of before…
Thursday 11th – Royal Oak, Chipping Sodbury
Nice cosy little place, always enjoyable, and on a school night as well!
Saturday 13th – Good Intent, Broomhill
Aha, a quick Google search reveals that this is actually part of Brislington – does that make it a sub-suburb of Bristol, I wonder? Or would that mean that Brislington, whilst being a suburb of Bristol, is a sub-domburb of Broomhill? Does that mean when we walk into the place, we’ll find it full of latex-clad dominatrices? It sounds an unlikely prospect, but just in case, maybe I’ll put a barrel of lime jelly in the van. You never know when it might come in handy.
Square on
A
*caveat – the number of people I like is actually quite small – even I’m only on the reserve list…