Hey there mighty people of the 7th something or other awesome thing
Well, another rawk’n’roll packed weekend, and now I’m totally knackered out again. In the words of Danny Glover,”I’m gettin’ too old for this shit…”
Except that I don’t want to. I’m sure one day I’ll collapse back into a rocking chair and play slow delta blues until I eventually topple over, but right now I’ll stick with burning the candle at both ends whilst maintaining a tenuous grip on the bit in the middle.
Hey gang!
This’ll probably be a short one again, I’m afraid – not too much to report from the world of rawk’n’roll, however plenty of activity on the domestic front – including, this weekend, a series of unforeseen room rearrangement / rebuilding episodes that didn’t finish until rather late on Sunday – meaning that I ended up missing the rather fabulous Also Eden’s progfest gig down at the Louisiana last night, dammit.
So, sorry about that Rich, I did me best to get there, but Dem was taking a dim view of my suggestion that “the kids can just sleep on the floor tonight, can’t they?”; her objection, that there was in fact no floor space left, so they’d actually have to sleep standing up, did, I suppose, have some merit.
Yo homeys!
Right then, it’s late and I’m tired, so sorry, no bedtime story tonight; instead I’ll just go with the basic “weekend report and upcoming gigs” schtick, if that’s okay with you guys.
On Saturday we had an absolutely fantastic time, playing at our pal Adam’s 21st birthday bash, shared with the wonderful Anne who – er – probably isn’t 21 anymore, to be fair. But she is a fantastic lady (to be honest, anybody who phones me up to ask how the “sexiest guitar player in Gloucestershire is doing” is going to be in my good books anyway – even if it is only ‘cos they know that Lou lives in Keynsham…).
Hello again
Sorry folks, but due to pressure of time this week’s blog will be the “ordinary boring” rambling, instead of the fantasy epic version. But, don’t worry, abnormal service will be resumed as soon as possible…
This week’s travelogue from the North East reports that Lincolnshire consists of an awful lot of cabbage fields, and just about bugger-all else. I had a nice time, though, and got back in time to make it for Friday’s Halloween gig up at the Old Neighbourhood Inn up in the hills near Stroud.
Hello again children
If you’re all sitting comfortably, then we’ll resume our tale…
As our brave band of musos rode down the leafy byways of Wiltshire towards their Prestbury Sports Bar gig, the fair Princess Louisa enquired of brave Sir Alan about the previous evening’s adventures.
“So”, she asked, “How went your lovely daughter’s gig in Swindon last night?”
“A fairly quite night, all things considered”, mused the gallant Sir Alan, “We encountered three bare backsides, two fights, one accidental concussion, and three vomiting
on the floor”. “But”, he added, “we did also meet there with the Wise Woman of Pighill; the promotress Statey, who was not only completely sober, but even bought me a drink; but alas, she had to leave before the audience really got into their stride”.
Hello again, children, and welcome back to our rock’n’roll fairytale…
If you remember, we left our intrepid band on the road to the King’s Wood, heading for their début gig at the Jolly Cobbler…
As they rounded a corner, all were astonished to see at the side of the road, (by overwhelming demand, I might add), an enormous bathtub of lime jelly, containing not one, but twenty four flaxen-haired and beautiful lithe young women dressed in identical cheerleader outfits, which clung tightly to their pert curvaceous forms, each dripping with sweet green gelatinous slime.
Hello, children.
Are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin, with the opening chapter of our crowd-sourced fairytale…
Once upon a time, many years ago in a far-off land, lived a little pub rock band, named Angel Up Front. Night after night, they would go out and play wonderful music to the friendly joyful people in the local inns and taverns; all the people would dance and sing along to the music, and sometimes one or two of the people would become so happy that they would fall over the monitors and be sick.
Hey gang
Well, we had no gig on Friday, which gave me a chance to re-rebuild my amp, this time with all the right bits, possibly even in the right places; and, so, bright and early (just in case they weren’t in the right places), it was down to the lovely Golden Fleece in Bath on Saturday for a touch of biker pub rawk action. It’s quite a cosy little end they have to set up a band in, and so my usual playing position here is tucked behind a speaker and a wall, with no view of any punters unless they’re right up at the front.
Buongiorno!
Another busy weekend bites the dust… Lou’s been on a week’s holiday in sunny Italy – so much so, that she was still there on Friday night, when we were booked to play the Langley Arms.
Luckily, I always carry a spare singer, and so Lily and I trundled over there to provide the evening’s entertainment for the music-starved masses of Emersons Green.
I say “masses”… well, there were five or six of our pals there, and a few more folks to boot, but I have to say they weren’t having to squeeze to get in the door… Not to worry, we all had a pleasant enough time; Lil was quite impressed by my chum the delightful Vague Anthony, who wanders through life in an enviable state of affable bemusement, and who showed her how to find the rabbits inside peanuts.
Top o’the morning to ye!
For once, a relatively quiet weekend; no banding, as young Louisa is in sunny Italy gorging herself on pizza and pasta; so just the one outing with young Lily, up at the Clothiers Arms on Friday. Now, poor little Lil has been suffering from nasty coldy fluness this week, and by Friday was absolutely hanging before we even started. But there’s no sick days in rock’n’roll, you get beaten for saying you’re ill, and you have to be on a stretcher before you’re allowed to miss a gig (we learned that approach from Jackson senior, and it didn’t do his kids any harm, did it…?).
