Tag Archives: stroud

21-05-2018 – Mr Mellow

Hola amigos!

Writing this as I am on a balmy Sunday evening, still slightly pissed from this afternoon’s gentle party in the sunshine, I must say what an enormously satisfactory weekend that was!

We started with a rare school night gig on Thursday night at the Oak in Sodding Chipbury – and I was delighted to run into a couple long-lost pals there. Once we started playing, the usual small-but-friendly crowd slowly grew into a larger-but-friendlier crowd, and so by the end of the night everybody seemed to be having an immense hoot. Lovely! READ MORE

14-05-2018 – A Couple Of Gigs – Ultra Fluffy Kitten Special

Hello, dear readers

Well, whaddaya know? A whole weekend with no gigs, and yet I somehow didn’t manage to find time to sit down and write to you all.

It really is very remiss of me, and I can only apologise – while recognising that many of you may in fact be rather grateful.

Anyway – not having gotten around to penning any witticisms for your amusement and probable consternation, I shall just deliver the following brief announcement: –

Thursday 17th – Royal Oak, Chipping Sodbury
A nice little outing for a Thursday, we played here a few months ago and despite Emma being in a somewhat ragged state of health, it all went down rather well. This time it should be even more fun. Not having gigged for a week definitely adds to the excitement; I particularly enjoy that little frisson you get when you can’t quite remember how the next bit goes, and have to hope that you guess correctly when the chorus comes around… READ MORE

15-01-2018 – Ooooh, Something About Weddings

‘Sup, dawg – as we young people actually probably don’t say any more…

Well, we had a rather interesting evening at the Royal Oak in Sodding Chipbury – after her recent spate of the dreaded lurgy, our lovely Emma arrived declaring herself to be “much better”.

You’ll note that’s “much better”, rather than actually “well”. So our poor girl had a couple of vocal squeaks and coughing fits during the set, but gamely carried on and only mentioned her poor illness to the crowd a mere thirty or forty times during the evening. READ MORE

08-01-2018 – The Selfish Virus, With Cake!

Gooood morning, chums!

Well, I have to say that there was rather less rawk’n’roll in that weekend than we’d hoped.

It all started so well, with Em having declared herself fit for Friday’s gig at the Swan in Thornbury after her bout of horrible flu lurgy; we rolled up, we set up, and – come the allotted hour – we started playing.

Two songs in, and suddenly poor Em’s voice cracks as she approaches some high notes without due care and attention. She manages to finish the song, but only by conveying the choruses by the medium of interpretive dance. READ MORE

04-12-2017 – The Battery, The Buffet And Other Stories

Ahoy there shipmates!

A mighty fine weekend’s rollicking on the Good Ship Angel Up Front, a three-gig voyage, and a fine haul of rawk’n’roll plunder.

Friday at the Blue Lagoon showed a good turnout of old chums, which was rather lovely – a wonderful surprise for me to see long-lost almost-daughter Sophie there; meanwhile, not-so-long-lost-actual-daughter Lily was drinking elsewhere in Bristol, and missed the reunion; only after being driven past the venue on her way home, and thinking, “That looks like my dad’s van”, did she check to see where we were gigging. I may have to demote her. READ MORE

30-10-2017 – Crutch Guitar

Hola, amigos,

Another jolly fine weekend; nice and local for a change. Friday night at the Swan in Thornbury was massively improved by the presence of some lovely old friends, who help us carry the kit in and out and buy us drinks. The rest of you take note – this is the kind of behaviour we like to see!

There are a also a couple of videos they kindly posted up on the Facebook page to commemorate the event, including some rather accomplished inflatable guitar action… Well, we like that kind of thing. READ MORE

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

23-10-2017 – The Taxi Chronicles

Bienvenue, mes amis

A jolly fine night at the Railway in Fishponds, was lovely to see hosts Mark and Amy again, particularly as my lovely Dem came along, as did a veritable posse of Emma’s self-confessed “groupies”. Poor Emma was STILL suffering from her cold, as she may have mentioned fifteen or sixteen times during the evening. Nonetheless, she put in a cracking performance; but was eventually forced to lie on the floor and pretend to be dead before the audience would let us stop – a good half hour after time was called. READ MORE

07-08-2017 – The Holland Splutter

Hello stranger!

Well, with no gigs coming up this weekend, I really have no reason to write this, other than to remind you all (and to some extent myself) that we’re not actually dead yet.

So I’ll probably just keep this as a brief recap of the last few gigs that we played, but I never got around to telling you all about, due to me vacationing in sunny Holland with my dear (in the sense of expensive) family. As a special treat, we also took with us a selection of unpleasant viral infections, so – apart from a rather lovely day visiting windmills followed by the very fine Hieronymus Bosch museum – my main memories of the week consist of days of driving across featureless landscapes and nights of staying awake coughing. READ MORE

08-05-2017 – Twat Parking Blues

Yo homies (as they say here in South Gloucestershire – probably a little bit behind the curve when it comes to cutting-edge urban patois, but better than, say, Somerset, where they probably still say “Hey, man”, and way ahead of Wiltshire, where they merely grunt, or anywhere further North, where they probably just bang their head against the nearest tree).

If there’s anybody else I’ve failed to offend in my opening sentence this week, please do let me know, I’d hate to be accused of favouritism… READ MORE