Tag Archives: keynsham

30-10-2017 – Mostly Stupid

Hello my little ones,

Well, that was a weekend of Halloween fancy dress gigging silliness; earning an honorable mention for Stuart for latex face scars, and excellent cobwebby props for the kit (in particular, for “Wraith Charles” hanging from the PA); motion of censure for Ben for simply wearing two hats at once; obvious first prize to Emma for the truly terrifying “mad flesh-eating woman” look, and thanks to my Lily for making me look like quite a convincing dead person.

Apparently this was “Quite easy, actually – most of the work’s already been done…” READ MORE

17-07-2017 – Questionable Perfection

Evenin’ all!

Well, that constitutes a “good week”, I think – at least in that nobody broke any bones this time.

Actually, Friday night at the Trout in Keysnham was great fun, despite a couple of rather spectacular cockups from yours truly – including the classic “starting the next song without looking at your fretboard, then after half a verse slowly realising that you started in the wrong key” mistake. Nonetheless, the rather lively crowd didn’t care, and to be honest we were having so much fun we didn’t either. READ MORE

10-07-2017 – Purple Toes

Hola!

And a mighty fine weekend of gigging more than made for the tribulations of the week – the obvious highlight of which was your beloved correspondent managing to break several of his beloved bones. For those morbidly interested in such matters, see the email thread at the end of this missive for further details.

Suffice to say that by Friday I was, although slightly limping, back in a fit state for rawk’n’roll combat; thus we were able to fulfil our appointment with destiny the Assembly Inn in Bath, which turned out to be a rather nice pub, albeit very little in the way of spare room for bands to set up in. Nonetheless, we managed to shoehorn ourselves in, and after a little gentle bullying (and a few beers), the crowd agreed to enjoy themselves, so that all turned out nicely in the end. 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. READ MORE

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. READ MORE

12-12-2016 – And now …

Hey gang…

I’d like to apologise for last week’s intro to this little missive, in which you were all exhorted to “deck the halls with bowls of jelly” – I have been corrected by some of my more Viking-orientated correspondents, and we apparently should in fact have been encouraging you all to

“Deck the halls with the blood of your enemies”.

Valhalla-la-la

Valhalla-la.

I trust that one’s sorted out now. Also, apologies that this one is coming to you all a little later in the day than was intended, there was a minor mishap with an airplane and a fog bank which meant I couldn’t actually get to a laptop until mid-afternoon, despite having crawled out of bed at the unholy hour of 5am. I must stress that this was clearly not my fault, I don’t control fog – I only do lightning. READ MORE

05-12-2016 – Not Something …

Ho ho ho…

Yes folks, it’s December again, time to deck the halls with bowls of jelly – or something like that, anyway…

A rather fine weekend’s gigging to report, a lively Friday night at the Trout in Keynsham, followed by some seriously riotous jollity at the Lamb in Marlborough. By the end of the night, the punters were making more noise than we were – so as a special treat, we threw in an extra encore, just for them – “Sweet Home Lamb in Marlborough” – which I have to say, they sang rather beautifully. READ MORE

28-11-2016 – Abandon All Hope

Hey gang,

Another day, another dollar… (enormous kudos, by the way, to anyone out there who can email me back the second line of my favourite Southern Rock Road Anthem)

The dollar in this case being provided by Molloy’s down in Bristol; we arrived to find a big heap of DJ kit and various bits of furniture all over the tiny little stage, so we hauled our kit part-way in while they were moving half of it out the way. Eventually we managed to get everything in and set up, and got on with the serious business of rawk’n’roll. READ MORE

04-07-2016 – Duck Race

Hey gang

Another fun night out in Keynsham; up at the Trout, where there was the usual messy beer-spilling mayhem from the locals. My favourite moment of the evening occurred when Rosa decides she needs the whole pub to join with a dance move – and asks for suggestions from the audience. When none are forthcoming, as usual she picks on someone.

“You there, the lady at the back – what’s your name?”

“Er…it’s Theresa…”

“Right, Theresa, show everybody your favourite dance move”. READ MORE

27-06-2016 – Angry Kitten Tapestry

Yo ho ahoy!

Well, an entertaining and lively night at the Blue Lagoon on Friday; lovely daughter Lily came along with her best mate for some (now legal) drinking and dancing around. I was vastly amused watching a number of drunken youths attempting to seduce them via the medium of interpretative dance; and while our pal Muddy was sat watching and itching to thump them all, I was more in favour of the gentle tap on the shoulder and the magic words, “That’s my daughter”. As it happened, the girls declared themselves unfazed by the yoofs, so we left things alone. READ MORE