Tag Archives: fishponds

20-08-2019 – Bikers nest

Yo homeys!

Right, another brief one I’m afraid – largely because there’s not too much to tell this week. And partly because I have way too much other stuff that I ought to be getting on with…

Friday’s jaunt to the Packhorse on Stapleton Road went rather well – I was particularly delighted to be able to catch up with my brother, who made an unexpected appearance; and also we got to enjoy the pub’s new beer terrace – which, in the dark, looked for all the world like the deck of the Titanic – except that when you walked to the rail at the edge, and looked down, instead of a view of a nasty icy cold wet ocean, you got the much more pleasing vista of a vast sea of shiny chromed Harley Davidsons – we have discovered a biker’s nest! READ MORE

19-08-2019 – Better Late Than Never (The Sweaty Centurion)

[Editor’s note] Er, yes, this one is a week late. The next one to follow quite soon.]

Aloha amigos!

As a Mexican on holiday in Hawaii might say…

Anyways, I expect you’re all keen to hear what we’ve been up to this weekend; come to think of it, it’s really quite rude of us not to ask you what you’ve been up to.

So – how are you all? Do write and tell us.

Meanwhile, back in “transmit mode” – Friday, and the Trinity Inn in Bath turns out to be very cosy – as in quite small – but also as in ”My God, it’s hot in here”. Having managed to load in without getting rained on, it made no difference, as by the time we’d got the kit in place, we were all soaked head to foot in sweat. (Our own, I should point out – it’s not like there was a member of staff throwing buckets of sweat over everyone who walked in through the door. Although there may as well have been). READ MORE

05-08-2019 – FAN

Hola amigos!

Well, after a couple of weeks away, it’s good to be back. Although not so good to be back at work. Obviously.

So, the big question was… can we remember how to play?

And the answer was… kinda…

Poor Ben had managed to somehow knacker his risk while we weren’t there to supervise him, and therefore spent much of Saturday night’s Cat & Wheel gig making pained expressions, poor bugger. And the rest of the time, like the rest of us, sweating like a rhino with Lhassa fever in a crowded sauna. It was damned hot in there – there was a large fan on the bar, but with a stern sign on it declaring that it was SPECIFICALLY for use of the bar staff ONLY, because it can get VERY HOT behind the bar, and it is NOT permitted to turn the fan round to point in any other direction. READ MORE

22-07-2019 – The Stark Horrors Of Reality

Ahoy there shipmates!

I’ll keep this one short and simple – a bit like Dopey the Dwarf, I suppose. But first, I’ll give you all just a moment to try and remember the names of the other six dwarves, okay? Ready? Off you go…






…Back now? Got them all? There, well done you!

And if anybody didn’t remember the last one – it was Doc. It’s always bloody Doc….

Anyway – I digress. Saturday’s trip to the Queen Vic was a bit of an odd night – for one thing, I got told to turn my guitar up several times. That doesn’t happen as often as you might expect. READ MORE

19-07-2019 – The Misunderstanding Of Sport

Well, good day to you all!

A mighty fine night at the Blue Lagoon on Friday; as our Em was rather wiped out after a long week in Amsterdam (apparently work can be very wearing, probably one of the reasons why I avoid it wherever possible), shiny daughter Lily kindly stepped in to cover for her this weekend.

And, as expected, a fantastic job she made of it, too. I was particularly touched by a comment from a young Ruby (previously unknown to us) who told us she was actually moved to tears by Lil’s performance. And then rather spoiled the compliment by adding, “I don’t normally drink, you know…”. READ MORE

08-07-2019 – Iambic Pentameter

Howdy pardners!

I did – until five minutes ago have written for you probably the best one of these blogs I’ve ever created – a masterpiece of witty prose and profound insights.

Unfortunately, just as I was signing off at the end, my laptop decided to choose that moment to randomly crash, and lost everything.

And, yes, smug IT geeks – I had been saving the file as I went along, but for some arcane software reason which I have no interest in understanding, the saved file was all naughtily corrupted. READ MORE

01-07-2019 – The Tall And Short Of It

Mornin!

And, after a very busy Friday, we dragged ourselves over to Hanham to find the Cross Keys, which turned out to be a jovial little pub with such a low ceiling that even Emma had to forgo her usual bouncing around – although to be fair, it was so hot that there was little enough appetite for that – although the punters they did manage a spirited attempt at jigging about, bless ’em.

We even made one chap very happy by being the only band who’d ever been able respond to his “D’you lot know any Queens Of The Stone Age?” demand with a “Er.. mutter, mutter, mumble, mumble… Yes, we think we can still remember one…” and actually – rather to our surprise – we could. So that was one very happy camper. READ MORE

24-06-2019 – The 4 Gig Marathon And Other Stuff

‘Ow do!

My, that was a hectic weekend, 4 gigs in 3 days, it’s all a bit of a blur, really.

I’ll try and recap for you…

Friday night, and a short-notice gig at the Mill House in Emerson’s Green.

At first we were concerned that Wesley might not let us play – but we figured Emma was close enough to the right height….

Wesley Small

Nice and local, this’ll be an easy stress-free one, we thought.

Not entirely correctly.

It transpired that Stuart had forgotten quite how the drumming goes in the Dandy Warhols’ “Bohemian Like You”; particularly unfortunate since it’s the song we started the set with, and doubly so because it starts with the drums. So, Emma announces us, and Stuart starts playing – hoping that once he gets going it will all come back to him. READ MORE

18-06-2019 – Political Evil and 4 Gigs, Yipee!

Good evening.

We trust that today finds you all in good health and fine spirits, despite the unfortunate lack of opportunity to catch up with the Loudest Buffoons In BristolTM last weekend.

And the bloody awful weather. And the bloody awful alleged government. Which, in comparison, makes the weather seem positively delightful.

But, I digresss. Yes, that’s “digresss” with three “s”s (esses???  “s”es???) Today I’m pretending to be a snake.

So that people will vote for me.

Dammit, I do try not to get cross about politics, but it’s really not easy*. Let’s try again, shall we… READ MORE

23-01-2017 – The Dog, Drum and Monkey of it

Ahoy there shipmates!

Another jolly weekend in rock; Friday at the Cat & Wheel was notable for the sheer quantity of spilt beer and broken glass all over the floor afterwards; a very lively night, but fortunately nobody aimed their boobies at Stuart this time. After we passed out the “fellatable guitars” into the crowd, only one came back safely afterwards, but was so covered in beer and grime that I binned it; after all, nobody’s going to want to wrap their lips around that, I figured.

Saturday night, and the rather more refined surroundings of Queen Amy’s Railway Tavern in Fishponds.

As we are setting up, a nice lady comes up and asks Stuart to warn her before he starts hitting the drums, as the small dog she has with her is very nervous and panics at sudden loud noises. Stuart asks if the dog would be okay with a little gentle tuning-up of the drums, and she says this will be fine.

Accordingly, he sets up and gives his snare a gentle tap or two. Immediately she appears at his kit, very irate, clutching a small trembling canine, and gives poor Stuart a Proper Telling Off, before stomping back to her table.

“Don’t worry”, I tell our bemused sticksman, “I’ll sort this out”.

I go to apologise to the nice lady, and after listening to her for a while rhetorically asking why drummers are always incapable of not banging things, not even for a few moments, and, especially since they’re about to be hitting drums for the next two hours anyway, why they can’t refrain for just a little while so that innocent members of the public can remove their fractious pets from the area, I realise that this scenario has been played out several times before, and that probably she doesn’t realise that tuning a drum kit cannot be done without actually touching it.

To try and mollify her, I explain that it is a common characteristic of drummers to be fairly straightforward, innocent souls, who are easily confused.

“You know those little toys you used to get, the little clockwork monkeys that bang a drum?” I say. “Well, there’s a reason they’re monkeys…”.

This line of reasoning seems to appeal to her, and by the end of our little chat she is much happier.

I go back to setting up, and Stuart looks up as I return.

“All sorted now?” he asks.

“All sorted”, I say. “I told her you were an idiot.”

As the night progresses, quite a few heavy imbibers are in evidence, including a hen night party, sipping their drinks through hilariously willy-shaped straws.

“Is that what I think it is?” Rosa nervously asked one of the girls.

“Oh, it certainly is – would you like one?” came the reply.

“Yes, please”, replies Rosa, adding after sipping her drink, “Ooh, it tastes of strawberries, doesn’t it?”.

“They always do”, I inform her.

Ben eyes me suspiciously. “And how do you know?”

I do not deign to answer, choosing instead to maintain a dignified and enigmatic silence.

Highlight of the evening for me occurs halfway through an impassioned guitar solo, when I open my eyes and am delightfully startled to find Queen Amy’s lovely face has appeared half an inch from mine, puckered up for a friendly greeting kiss. Aww, bless! We’d been wondering where she’d gotten to.

Just to balance things out, during my next guitar solo a few minutes later, I am hit in the side of the head by half of a flying drumstick [Editor’s note: Karma eh!].

The evening continues with much more jolliness and dancing around, and finally, several songs after time has been called, we run out of things to play, and call it a night.

“It’s a night”, we said.

So, a lovely night, and now we have just one more gig to play with Rosa before she runs away with the Jazz Pixies…

Friday 27th – New Crown Inn, Bath
Lovely friendly little pub, usually gets pretty full, but that’s largely on account of it not being very big. On the other hand, I’ve just remembered that last time we played here was Halloween, so it’s entirely possible that our fancy dress antics last time will have scared off all the customers. And perhaps even that the landlord has run away to hide, and maybe set fire to the pub on his way out, just to be on the safe side. We shall have to see…

Square on
A