Tag Archives: trident

09-05-2019 – Jumping Around And Pulling Faces

Yo homeys

Well, that was an odd one. We fetched up at the Anchor in Bishopston on Saturday, to find the the nice little stage area they used to have has been taken down and covered with tables and chairs and punters, and we instead were presented with an “intimate” space to set up in. After a little head-scratching and moving a few affable customers over, we managed to shoehorn ourselves in.

The pub itself was rammed full of footy fans – the match just up the road had just finished, plus there was another game on telly – so much so that the door staff were operating a “one in, one out” policy – meaning that several folks who’d come to see us actually couldn’t get in until the second set, when most of the soccer fans had had their fill of lager and were feeling quite tired and ready for bed. READ MORE

29-04-2019 – Deranged And Other Excellent Words


[Editor’s Note: I accept that the image that goes with this post may be in bad taste; I just can’t figure out in what context.]

Well well well, three gigs in a weekend, it’s getting just like the old days. We arrived at the Millhouse in Emerson’s Green, bagged the cheeky last parking spaces, and hauled in. As we suspected, this was a “family pub”, not used to having bands on – although I did like the fact that we were told “You can store your empty cases in the Wacky Warehouse”… READ MORE

23-04-2019 – Owls and Easter

Helloo there, my little Easter bunnies.

We hope you enjoyed the extended weekend, and trust you were all suitably solemn in remembrance of what this important religious festival commemorates; the true meaning of Easter, that time of year when Jesus skips merrily around the countryside with a basket of chocolate for all the little children.

Something like that, anyway; I must confess I wasn’t really paying attention to that part in school.

Right, well we had a fine couple of evenings gigging; although, having had at least two sleeps since then, I can’t really remember anything much about them. Except the owls. The owls… READ MORE

11-02-2019 – Regular Stuff

Howdy pardners!

We hope y’all had a rootin’ tootin’ weekend ridin’ out on the priarie… Oh, stuff it, I’m bored with this already. If you want more cowboy-themed entertainment, go watch a Western!

We tend to make our own entertainment.

Fortunately, we’re pretty easily pleased.

And so it was that at the Trident in Downend on Friday, although it’s fair to say that the pub could probably have crammed in a few more punters without too much problem, there were enough there to keep us happy. We were particularly impressed with top punter Pete, who joined in with Emma’s drinking game with such enthusiasm that he got through 2 pints in the course of one (quite short) song. Well done, that man! READ MORE

04-02-2019 – Guitar Madness And Ducks


…as nobody has said to me since about 1979 – surely about time for a comeback, dontcha think?

Anyhoo, last week we did promise to try and have twice as much fun as usual at Friday’s gig at the Swan – and indeed we did.

We weren’t expecting too many people in to be honest, given the somewhat snowy conditions – but the locals had obviously mustered their huskies, donned their snowshoes, and set out into the freezing night just to – well, just to drink too much and dance around like fools, really. All they needed was a loud and tolerably rhythmic noise to do it to. And that’s where we came in… READ MORE

01-10-2015 – Space Mission

Captain’s log, star date 735.41

Having sent a landing party down to the surface of the planet Trident, in the Shabby quadrant of the Downend system, we set up our scientific equipment and attempted to discern if there was any native intelligent life down there.

Despite some early positive readings, we were beginning to suspect that we weren’t going to find anything more advanced than basic pond life organisms, when suddenly we stumbled across a new species of apparently alcohol-based life form, which provided much opportunity for interesting scientific study.

The bizarre extrovert behaviour from the male specimens seemed at least in part to constitute some kind of primitive mating ritual; although when the females appeared unresponsive, the males nonetheless continued their efforts unabated – if anything, with increased enthusiasm. They also seemed to be quite inquisitive, and appeared to enjoy playing with our equipment – to the point where one of them had to have a microphone gently prised out of his fingers, long after everything else had been packed away safely into the shuttle craft.

Still, an interesting exploratory mission, and I am sure that we will return to this strange alien world some time in the future to make further studies.

In fact, despite the pub being fairly quiet early on, we (as usual) had an enjoyable time, and I guess it was kind of fittingly strange, being our last time out with Lou singing – she’ll be off to Dubai in a few weeks to go and play in a function band, which will be realising several of her major ambitions in one go – i.e. for once, she won’t be complaining about it being too cold, also she’ll be several thousand miles away from the nearest rubber-chicken wielding drummer, and won’t have to put up with band members singing childish and usually obscene variations on the lyrics, whilst forcing her to wear a variety of ridiculous hats half-way through a performance.

I wonder if she’ll miss us….

Meanwhile, coming up – no rest for the wickered (Stuart at least being a confirmed basket case) – this weekend, we’re taking Rosa off to sunny South Wales…

Fri October 2nd – Rum Bar, Chepstow
Last time, this was actually quite a good gig, spoilt only by the fact that you have to haul all the kit up three flights of a fire escape, before negotiating it through a crowded bar of people trying to eat, and then trying to all squeeze it in to a bizarre three-dimensional pyramid shaped corner so you can play it. On the plus side, the venue is almost impossible to find, as well.

And to think that only last weekend, Rosa was playing a gig at the Colston Hall.

She’s so lucky to be working with us now…

Square on


21-09-2015 – Pirate Princess

Ahoy there, shipmates!

This week, we’re blogging in accordance with our new inclusiveness policy, so there’s lots of Subtitles For The Hard Of Thinking – in short, less words, and more pictures. A bit like, “Where’s Spot?”*.

Now read on…

We had an absolutely fantastic evening up at the dear ol’ Queen Vic up in Stroud on Saturday – only the second gig we’ve played with young Miss Rosa at the helm, and of course, being International Talk Like A Pirate Day, a perfect excuse to dress up like a bunch of silly buggers.

So we did; there was much eyepatchery and “Aharr”-ing before we even set off, and when we arrived we were delighted to find our old pals John and Anne grinning and waiting for us.

My beloved Dem came along for the night too, ostensibly to take a few pictures, but mainly I suspect to wear the captain’s hat…


…and once we were set up and soundchecked, she tried to get us to pose for a team photo – this was the best she could manage…

Pirate Angel Up Front

Rosa, you’ll note, is the attractive one who isn’t me.

I enquired whether she’d bought the “pirate princess” outfit especially for this evening.

“No-o-o-o”, she admits, “I – er – I already had one anyway…”

I think she’s going to fit right in.

So, with the stage, drumkit – and anything else that couldn’t get out of the way fast enough – suitably draped in flags and assorted piracy regalia, it was time to start making a noise – but not before Dem took this photo specifically to quell the ugly rumours currently circulating that I never tune up before a gig.

Alan tuning up

See? That’s me, tuning up, that is.

Clear evidence that I DO actually tune up; It’s just that the way I play, it doesn’t make any difference, that’s all.

So, off we went – and a vastly entertaining evening of it we had…

Rosa & Ben

Unfortunately, no photographs have survived of the stuffed parrot we’d hastily gaffa-taped to Rosa’s shoulder…

Parrot missing

…but she did pull off a convincing hornpipe…


(that last phrase sounded rather more dodgy than I intended)

…Still, towards the end of the evening, we were joined onstage by a chorus of lovely air guitar ladies…

Guitar Ladys

…one of whom was kind enough to give me a few tips…

Tips for Alan

…and we ended the evening with the almost inevitable rubber-duck-enhanced speed guitar duel (you can see in this shot that the fingers are actually on fire)…

Duck solo

…which (it is my firm belief) I won. Because I had a rubber duck on my side.

So, all in all, that was huge fun. Coming up this week – a kinda sad moment, as it’s our last gig with Lou…

Friday 25th – The Trident, Downend
A nice little local pub, this one, and the last time in the foreseeable future that we’ll be causing Lou the regular exasperation that we do so well. We’ve had a great time with her over the past two and a half years, and we’re all wishing her the very best of luck with her other projects. I’m sure she’s looking forward to the prospect of not having to spend her Saturday nights with the same bunch of idiots every week.

In the meantime, we’re also looking forward to hitting up the streets with Rosa; who, in addition to her undisputable musical talents, is an unstoppable bundle of fun, and appears to actually be ahead of the rest of us in the playing sillybuggers game – in fact, I’m beginning to wonder how long we’ll be able to keep up with her…we’re not used to looking like the normal ones.

Thas’ your lot for now…

Square on

*He’s in his basket.

18-05-2015 – Our Latest Video, 3 Gig’s, New Guitar, ROR and Bleep, Bleep, Bleep

Good morning campers!

I’m your Uncle Ernie and I welcome you to… oh never mind.

[Editor’s note: We have a shiny new show reel video, yer tis …]

Good grief, that was knackering. After a relatively quiet gig on Friday at the Trident, Saturday’s outing to the ‘Cullis in Fishponds was enlivened by the new landlady there, Helen – who turned out to be as mad as a box of frogs, as mad as seven badgers in a handbag, as mad as a Walnut Whip on a rollercoaster – and actually has at least as many silly toys as we do. So, during the course of the set we were treated to “the pom-poms”, “the loudhailer”, “the corset”, “the hat”, “the vuvuzela”, and, of course, “the Miss Piggy wig” – which was immediately plonked onto Stuart, who rather to my terror, looked completely at home in it.

We also stopped on for a bit afterwards to chat to our lovely pals Gus & Sue; thus it was the wrong side of 1am when Ben and I got back to my gaffe and opened the Jack Daniels…

“…Bleep, bleep, bleep…”

Oh look, it’s 6:00 on a Sunday morning, and time to get up and go drive to an airfield to play rock’n’roll in front of ten thousand bikers.

Sometimes I do wonder what it is that normal people do to pass the time…

Anyways, after a stiff couple of coffees, Ben and I decant ourselves in to the van and set off for Hullavington. We arrive, we starting lumping the kit up onto the inevitable flatbed trailer stage, when my phone rings. It’s Lou, telling me that Stooie has overslept and so they’ll be a little later than intended. Not to worry, it’s a lovely day and everybody is in a jolly mood, and once we’re all set up we have a fine time making a nice jolly loud racket. And we get to catch up with some old mates, and see thousand and thousands and thousands of bikes go rumbling off together. Awesome stuff.

We take a break whilst the second batch of bikers assemble, and Ben kindly buys me a nice egg and bacon roll. Within seconds, I am covered head to foot in sticky yellow egg, and so if you happen to see any photos from the day, and notice I appear to be covered in a strange sticky fluid – THAT’s what it is. Don’t believe the others.

The morning grows older, and so do we along with it – at one point I check my watch and am shocked to see that although we have played through three sets already, it’s still not eleven o’clock yet. Finally, though, the final huge batch of bikes is assembled and we stumble through a few last tunes to send them on their way. On reflection, I’m not sure that “Another One Bites The Dust” was an entirely appropriate choice to finish on…

Time to pack up, so we and the sound guys cheerfully assist each other in moving each other’s heavy kit around, getting in each other’s way and tripping over cables, until at last the stage is cleared. At this point, our pal John appears chewing a large greasy burger. “If you go up to that last stall” he mumbles through his food, “They’re giving away whatever they’ve got left over, just go and ask for what you like”.

There is a small thunderclap as air rushes in to fill the space where Ben just was.

To be fair, though, I got there just nanoseconds after he did.

Thus, with full little tummies, your heroes wended their weary way homewards, dripping with grease, covered in egg, and feeling rather pleased with themselves.

[Editor’s note: check out Alan’s new spangly white guitar]

Ride of Respect - 2015-05-17

We’ll have to wait a while year before we get to do that again – meanwhile, and a little closer to home: –

Friday 22nd – Crown & Horseshoe, Mangotsfield
Field, yes, mangoes no. Please see the November 2004 edition of this blog for humorous details of that rant.

Saturday 23rd – Woodlands Edge, Peatmoor, Swindon
Not been here for a while, this is the place where Lou played her very first ever gig with us. I wonder if they’ve gotten around to putting up some kind of a small plaque or something yet…?

Right, that’s your lot for now, I need some sleep.

And, incidentally, a motorcycle.

I wonder if Dem is still in a present-buying mood…?

Square on

11-05-2015 – Guitar Madness 2 With Added Politics

Yoho Ahoy!

[editor’s note: this one really started last week, see Guitar Madness]

All right, I’ll say this only once.

Which one of you lot thought it would be funny to vote the greedy thieving fascists back in for another five years, then?

Well, we know for a fact it wasn’t anyone from down in sophisticated Westbury; that’s because, based on the straw poll of drunk women who came marching up to Ben and I on Saturday night at our Charlie’s Bar gig, to loudly announce, unasked, who they voted for, it seems everyone there voted for UKIP.

But, they’re not racist – as every single one of them, to our vast amusement, was keen to point out.

“It’s not that Oi’ve got anything against immigrants” one of them explained unsteadily, “Oi just don’t like bombs”.

Ah, well, that all makes sense now. And to think I was concerned that the average UKIP voter might be a little hard of thinking.

Anyways, on to happier things – fluffy kittens, and the like – in fact, even better than fluffy kittens – my beloved Dem has just bought me a new guitar. No, really. Rather took me by surprise, did that.Since we had a couple of hours to kill in town, at her suggestion we went into the guitar shop…

“Oh, look, that’s the one I was playing with last week”, I said, “Really nice”.

“Let’s hear it, then”, she says.

Ten minutes of plank-spanking later:-

“Well, I think we should buy it” she tells me.

“Oh, no, we couldn’t possibly, it’s quite expensive…. Oh, go on then.”

I was so happy I didn’t even whinge about the outrageous parking fee (it’s actually almost as cheap in Bristol now to park where the hell you like, and pay the fine).

So – big smiley face time! Not only that, but two gigs in Bristol coming up next weekend, AND the mighty Ride Of Respect on Sunday morning…

Friday 15th – The Trident, Downend
It usually gets quite lively in here; I might even try out my shiny new axe if I get it set up in time…

Saturday 16th – Portcullis, Fishponds
The pub’s apparently changed hands since last time we were here; I haven’t changed hands. Then again, I have changed guitars. We’ll have to try and finish at a sensible time, because we need to get up RIDICULOUSLY early in the morning…

Sunday 17th – Ride Of Respect, Hullavington
Yup, once again we’re honoured to be playing for several thousand bikers as they assemble before setting off on the annual charity fundraiser run. And this time, we won’t be horrendously hungover (and, in some cases, still slightly pissed) when we start. Hopefully, though, it won’t affect our performance too much. Ahem.

Right, thassit for now, I have some very important guitar-stroking to be getting on with… [editor’s note: honestly, Alan has serious issues, can anyone help?]

Square on

05-01-2015 – The Life Cycle Of The Breville Toasted Sandwich Maker

..And a Happy New Year to all our readers!

This morning, driving in to work, I was rather perturbed to see that – even though it’s still some 353 days until Christmas – some people have got their decorations up already!

Still, we hope you all had a lovely time eating and drinking to excess; plus whatever else takes your fancy, of course.

We certainly enjoyed the break, we even managed to squeeze in a few gigs – including a jolly evening in the Portcullis in Fishponds just after Christmas; where, because Lou had texted me earlier complaining of a chest infection and warning that she wasn’t sure her voice would last the night, as a precaution I took along our emergency spare band – the erratically mighty Polar Bear Cheese Pirates From Outer Space. In the event, Lou’s voice held out fine, but since Dem’s folks had turned out to see us, we put the kids on as well anyway. (I have finally arrived at the conclusion that the real reason folks are so fond of their grandchildren is because they know that they are putting their parents through exactly the same trauma and exasperation as the parents put the grandparents through years before. Which I am sure is the only reason why my offspring seemed to get louder applause than AUF did…).

And, just a couple of nights ago, we were royally entertained in the Trident at Downend, where we had been pre-warned and reminded that we’d have to stop at 11:00 due to “neighbour issues”. Thus we duly stopped playing at the allotted hour, only to be told by the bar manager to “Keep going for another half hour, sod the neighbours, this is bloody great!”

It’s always nice to receive these unsolicited testimonials.

And it was good to see our bonkers mate Tiff again, as well as a bunch of her accomplices who were behind hijacking various Santa Claus and snowmen figures from around the pub to dance around with…

All in all, a rather jolly start to the year; alas no gigs coming up this weekend; the reason being, as it was explained to me, that “Stuart isn’t going to Cuba” for the next couple of weeks.

Okay, well, that clears that one up, then.

Meanwhile, from the dusty back of the joke cupboard, I found this lurking behind a grimy disused Breville sandwich toaster*…

The revered Indian political and religious leader Gandhi walked barefoot most of the time, which produced an impressive set of calluses on his feet. He also ate very little, which made him rather frail and with his odd diet, he suffered from bad breath.

This made him a super calloused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis

Did you miss us?

Square On


*It has been observed that the Breville sandwich toaster has evolved a rather unusual life cycle, which almost always follows the same stages: –

After an initial embryonic stage packaged in a nice clean shiny box on the shelf of a supermarket (or, more commonly, an Argos warehouse), the device is eventually purchased and relocates itself into a kitchen, where, for three weeks, its new owners subsist entirely on toasted sandwiches. After this, they will never eat another toasted sandwich again.

Following this fertile stage, the sandwich toaster enters its “chrysalis” stage, where it hides for a period of between two and four years at the back of a dark cupboard, protected by a thin coating of grease and an accumulation of dust, after which it emerges blinking into the daylight to find itself perched near the back of an old wallpapering table at a car boot sale. Subsequently, it may (if it is a lucky sandwich toaster) enter a second three-week manic fertile sandwich-making stage, before reverting to its chrysalis form for another two years, and then finally fulfilling its destiny in the “Small Electrical Items” skip at the local recycling centre.

Nobody ever asks it if it wants to.