Hey gang
More rawk’n’roll fun… Our attempt at a weekend off having failed thanks to an unexpected gig at Charlie’s down in Westbury on Friday; although Ben and I did do our best by rolling up nearly an hour late as a result of some unannounced strategic road closures. As we arrived, we wince as we hear Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing” blasting out of the jukebox. The even-worse Glee cover version.
“Thank God you’re here”, says Rosa, “It’s third time that’s been on this since we arrived…”
Hello playmates!
Well, as it seems that summer is over now (again), but it’s certainly nice to be out and gigging again. Saturday’s jaunt to the Cat & Wheel was interesting; we rolled up around 8:00 to find the place was rammed with people watching the footy – to the extent that they were turning folks away at the door. They let us in though – and thus became a campaign of attrition, as we slowly hauled in the kit, and inch by inch deployed what we could, slowly driving the footy fans back towards the telly screens; by half-time we had got out as much as we could, and then stood outside in the cool air away from the deafening sound of the chimps-in-suits pundits giving their critiques of the previous forty five minutes of blokes running around in circles.
Hey gang!
Well, what can I say? Summer’s here, and the time is right, for passing out in an unconscious stupor in the streets…
Sorry we didn’t manage to get one of these out to you last week, I was away, and then I came back, but I was busy doing something else, and then I forgot, and then suddenly it was today again.
So there ya go. Actually I’ve been having a rather lovely time lately, lounging around in the sunshine, but all good things must come to an end, and this is the end that they’re coming to…
Hello folks!
Well, since last week’s request for suggestions in what style to write this week’s blog in was met with a rather disappointing set of suggestions – I did actually rather like the “Carry-on film” suggestion, but when I tried it, I soon realised that was pretty much exactly what we write anyway – I’ve decided to just supply the usual rubbish this time.
So – Friday night, and off to The Black Castle (as Ben so eloquently pronounces it); which turned out to be a lovely place to play – not only is it (natch) a castle, but also there’s loads of room to set up in, nice easy access, and the crowd were quite up for a bit of fun.
Well hello there; do come in, we’ve been expecting you…
Right then, what just happened this weekend? Anybody remember?
This is the problem with having too nice a time at the weekend, and thinking “Oh, bugger it, I’ll write the blog up on Monday” – you can’t remember anything that happened before yesterday.
I could try making something up, but that doesn’t usually end well. Tell you what, if you lot write in and tell me what you’d like me to make up for next week, I’ll do that. Actually – here’s a better idea – you lot write in and tell me what style you’d like next week’s episode to be written in – since we’ve already covered film noire and swords-and-sorcery fantasy, you could choose (for example) a Western, a sci-fi theme, soy thriller, or anything else that take your fancy. Personally, I’d like something featuring lime jelly and lots of cheerleaders, but it’s your call.
Aloha!
Well, guess what, another weekend, another couple of gigs…
After last weekend’s little surprise, we were hoping that nobody was going to take their top off during a gig.
Well, they didn’t…
Friday at the Tern in Yate was worthy of mention though, it was enlivened by a bunch who were in celebrating somebody’s birthday, and they all managed to get themselves into a rather advanced state of disrepair. Thus it was that we got some fairly lively audience interaction going on; in particular, one rather hirsute young gentleman, who was so keen to join in that when Rosa introduced an Amy Winehouse number by asking if there was anybody named Amy in the room, he raised his hand enthusiastically and shouted “Me! Me!”… Similarly, when Rosa commented on the warm weather, asking if anybody had had to resort to sunblock yet, he also piped up, “Yes, I did! I had to, I’m as ginger as f*&k!”.
Hey gang
Well, a relatively quiet blank holiday weekend for us, just the one outing to Caldicot, to the rather nice Cellar Bar. Rosa’s opening gambit rather took the locals by surprise, though.
After whispering in my ear to check where we actually are tonight, she greets the audience by announcing us, and then asking them, “So, what is there to do on a Saturday night here in Caldicot, then…?”
There is a moment’s silent pause for reflection, before a number of them shout out simultaneously, “DRINK!!!”
Top o’ the mornin’ to ye!
Okay, after last week’s rather epic offering, I think I’m entitled to keep this week’s missive nice and short. Well, short anyway…
Friday’s jaunt up the North Face of the Rum Bar in Chepstow, despite a pretty slow start, ended up being very lively by the end of the night; unfortunately I fell foul of the dreaded stairs on the descent afterwards – manhandling my amp down the wet cast-iron fire escape, I slipped, and although I managed to save my amp from expensive harm, I twisted my knee good and proper. Bugger! That’ll see me hobbling around whingeing for a few days, then…
Ahoy there shipmates!
Well, on Friday we played what should by rights have been a very good gig at the Blue Lagoon – nice and local, great venue, a few pals in, really good crowd – so what was the problem?
Well, I’ll tell you – but I’ll warn you now, it does get a little bit sweary towards the end…
If you’re of a sensitive disposition, you may want to scroll down to where the font changes, which is where the funny bit starts.
[Editor’s note: I had to think for a while on whether to put this out or not. Maybe it’s not the sort of thing that we should have floating around and out of control on the internet as it is a bit offensive but the truth is, in all the years we have been together I don’t think we have had anyone go at it so much for so long at a gig therefore due to it being such an exceptional incident Alan can let rip. This chap didn’t annoy me quite as much as I have a drum kit as a barrier but I spent most of the night with half an eye on this person. I don’t think he was drunk but I think he had taken something, maybe an upper like cocaine or amphetamines, I’m not sure but he sure kept going and his mates were egging him on knowing that he was in a state and very irritating even if he wasn’t aware of it.]
Ahoy there shipmates!
So, another weekend, and two more new venues we’d never played before. The Cider Press in Bishopston turned out to be a bit like the Blue Lagoon just down the road, i.e. quite a big place, with a lot of people in, and various others coming and going.
Early on, Rosa had to bully the crowd quite a lot before they started enjoying themselves, but eventually they started to get the hang of it, and there was much a-dancing around and a-falling over before the night was out. Towards the end of the evening, the doors burst open and a horde in fancy dress trooped in, including a shark, Nemo, two flamingos, a strawberry, a Mexican, somebody on a dwarf’s shoulders, and, my personal favourite, an Arab riding a camel.
