Tag Archives: black horse

26-02-2020 – Yada, Yada, Yada!

Hey Gang

Well, apologies to anybody who was hoping to see us at the Downend Tavern on Friday – we had to cancel, poor Emma has developed an evil lurgy infection, and lost her voice.

I would have offered to sing in her place; but, ever-generous, the germ-infested ratbag seems to have given it to me as well – thus it was that I spent most of my “weekend off” sniffling, feeling sorry for myself, and moaning at anyone prepared to listen.

Which turned out to be absolutely no-one.

Nonetheless, we are both planning a magnificent recovery, even if we have to rely on the well-attested Healing Powers of Rock to pull us through the next couple of gigs… READ MORE

17-02-2020 – No Flame Throwers

Yo homeys!

Another weekend, another apocalyptic storm, but rawk and roll stops for nothing – and this time, we had a nice new venue to terrify.

This week, it was the turn of the Black Horse in Kingswood, which turned out to be very agreeable indeed – a nice big space to set up in, and, once we’d found the electrical power source – a 4-way extension lead nailed to the ceiling – we were able to get set up and running.

We spotted a few friendly faces from previous outings, and – as indicated by the tasteful posters all over the place – they like their rocky stuff in here, which meant that we even got to wheel out some Iron Maiden, giving Emma – to her not-so-secret delight – a chance to show off her famed Bruce Dickinson impersonation. READ MORE

10-02-2020 – Some Content Censored

Aloha amigos!

Well, that was a very quiet weekend in the rawk’n’roll business. Just single jaunt up to the Hunstman in Downend, which is always very quiet, but we quite like playing there because (a) they pay us, and (b) it’s a nice easy load-in, no steps, no stairs, and no people standing in the doorway as you try to man haul 57 tonnes of equipment in past them.

Although this time, we rolled up to find the place was heaving – it transpired though, that this was due to a large birthday party being in, which was just winding up, so by the time we’d got ourselves in and sorted out, you could pretty much count the number of people on the toes of one foot. READ MORE

06-03-2017 – Strappy Man

Hola, homeys and honeys!

Another weekend of pub rawk jollity; starting with a rather lively night at the Trout in Keynsham; somewhat enlivened by the presence of my old boss, King Howard, and his retinue of alcohol-fuelled relatives. I am introduced to his brother-in-law with the words, “This is Martin, I apologise in advance”. Apparently Martin, when he has been over zealously applying alcoholic beverages to his metabolism, can sometimes become rather demonstratively affectionate, “in a homoerotic way”. My look of puzzlement prompts further clarification. “Last week, he tried to bum me”, explains Howard. We leave Martin to talk to Stuart, who we figure will be glad of the attention, should the need arise.

The gig itself is made a little difficult for me, as this is the night that my strap locks decide to collapse. For the uninitiated, a strap lock is – as the name may suggest – a small metal device, designed to lock your precious expensive guitar to its strap, thereby ensuring it remains securely attached round your neck throughout any amount of nancificatious on-stage prancing.

However, if you’ve been rash enough to buy cheap sub-standard ones, they can suddenly become a means for your beloved axe to repeatedly try to hurl itself to the floor, unless you stand very still… Massive thanks therefore to Lily, who spent most of the second set reattaching the damned thing to me whilst she was singing, while I tried to continue playing with my axe balanced precariously on my leg. Foot on monitor, for all the wrong reasons.

Saturday’s outing to Devizes was rather more sedate, but – armed with a shiny new pair of expensive proper Schaller straplocks – beware of cheap imitations, folks! – we seemed to go down well enough with the punters that were there; particularly hipster “Jordan”, who sang along on a couple of songs with us. Well, fair enough.

Right then, hopefully with everything functioning normally, coming up this week…

Friday 10th – The Tern, Yate
Last time we played here, just before Christmas, was Lily’s first outing with us. This will be another one. Next time we play here, it probably won’t be with Lil. Er – as you can probably tell, I’m struggling to think of something to say about this one. It’s a gig. Something weird will happen, we just don’t know what. You’ll have to wait for next week’s exciting instalment.

Or, you could come along and find out yourself. Who knows, if you play your cards right, you might even be the weird thing that happens.

Square on

27-02-2017 – Mission Failure

Yo homeys!

Well,Friday’s gig was a bit quiet. Extremely quiet.

This was at least in part due to the fact that my arrival at the venue, and starting of unloading of the kit, was met with a slightly concerned look from the barmaid who said to me. “Hang on a second, love, I’ll just get the landlady a moment…”

It transpires that there has been something of booking agent-related cock-up, and that in fact the pub has no idea we were supposed to be coming. “But didn’t you get the posters I sent a few weeks ago?” I ask.

She starts guiltily – just for a fraction of a second – and then says, straight-faced “No, we didn’t get anything – er – let me try and call the agent”.

She tries; there’s no answer. It doesn’t really matter anyway; personally, I’m not too upset, as I’m still not feeling too great after a bout of food poisoning, and Lily is actually delighted at the prospect of an early night, since she has to get up for work at half past five…

So, I call the other two, who are still en route, and tell them the mission is off; and we head off home for a nice quiet evening in.

Ho hum, and, indeed, diddly dee, as my dear other half often says.

For reasons which I have yet to understand.

Coming up this weekend (and, rest assured, we shall be checking); some rather noisier nights…

Friday 3rd March – The Trout, Keynsham
Expecting a busy night, as payday has just happened for most people, and they tend to get a bit bouncy in here. It often gets rather splashy by the end of the night, and I confidently predict a Saturday morning spent cleaning soggy beer and broken glass off the speaker cables. Again. Still, it’s all good-humoured fun – just don’t agree to join in with any of the landlord’s house games…

Saturday 4th March – Black Horse, Devizes
A pub in a rather picturesque setting, right by the canal Last time we came here, Ben and I were both rather proud of the fact that neither of us tried to push the other one in. This time… who knows…?

Right, that’s your lot for now. For Ben’s benefit, I’ll leave with the following (apparently true, it was sourced from the BBC) tale…

A Welsh politician asked the government for information about UFO sightings and if it might fund UFO research.

Officials wrote back, “jang vIDa je due luq … ach ghotvam’e’ QI’yaH devolve qaS”

Which means, “The minister will reply in due course. However, this is a non-devolved matter.”

In Klingon.

Square on (Or, apparently, if you prefer, “meyrl’”..)

12-04-2016 – Erk, Fancy Dress

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.

The horde quickly took over the dance floor, and it was soon (inevitably) awash in fizzy lager – as were most of them, and we kept playing on until we ran out of time – a mere two songs before Stuart ran out of energy and hand/eye co-ordination.

The management seem mighty pleased with the evening, and it seems they want us to come back very soon. Luvverly!

Saturday, and it’s down to distant Devizes for a night at the Black Horse, which turns out to be a nice little pub right by the canal. Ben and I make a point of staying away from the water, just in case the other one pushes us in. The place isn’t over-busy, but they give us beer and everybody there has a lovely time. I was particularly impressed with the synchronised barmaid dance routines – have they been practicing?

In the course of one of our usual idiot rambling conversations, Stuart idly muses as to whether he should take up a hobby smearing his cobblers with a variety of different substances.

Ben and I warm to the idea – we could make it a feature at gigs; Rosa could ask the crowd to guess what he has been smearing himself with this week…

“What’s that, sir? Marmalade? Good guess, but no, that was two weeks ago”.

“Treacle? No, but that’s a good idea. Maybe he’ll try that next”.

“Marmite…? Euchhhhhh”.

At this point, Rosa scurries off and sits by herself pointedly at the other end of the pub giving us baleful glares.

Oh dear; we think we may have actually broken her this time…

Right then, coming up this weekend, just the one outing on Friday (as I’m having in inning on Saturday for young Lil’s birthday)…

Fri 15th – Blue Lagoon, Horfield
Er – it’s a bit like the Cider Press, just up the road, actually. They’ll have to go some to top last Friday’s entertainment, though – camels up, and Barbie down!

Right, that’s it for now

Square on