Tag Archives: wotton under edge

20-01-2020 – Chicken Man Exists

Ahoy there shipmates!

And, after a week of no gigs due to illness, it was deeply marvellous to be back out again making fools of ourselves in public.

A vastly entertaining Friday was had at the dear ol’ Railway Tav on Friday, we met a lovely couple who’d come over from Bath just to see li’l old us, which was rather sweet. I’d tell you their names, but I forgot to ask – I’m generally rubbish with social niceties.

In fact, I recall a while ago, when I was explaining to some of my colleagues at work how “I’m really not a people person”. READ MORE

06-01-2020 – Health Y’all

Aloha!

Well, enormous apologies to anybody who came out to see us last week – we weren’t there, due to a particularly nasty medical complaint contracted by one of our number. Much as we hate having to cancel gigs, in this instance it really was for the better, there are some things that no audience should have to witness…

I shan’t say who our victim was – if you like, you can have a guess – after all, there’s only four of us to choose from (you can summarily discount our Chief Financial Officer, who is (a) not really needed at gigs, and indeed very rarely attends them, and (b) a cat). READ MORE

06-01-2020 – 1920 in 2020

Happy New Year to you all!

And, if you’re reading this, it means we all survived, which can only be a good thing.

Well, to round off 2019, we played what turned out to be a twenties-themed New Year Eve gig at the Three Brooks in Bradley Stoke – where I learned, whilst we were setting up, that the twenties music they were playing through the pub tannoy is exactly like ska, in that it sounds rather jolly and fun at first; but after a while you realise there are only actually three tunes, the incessant repetition of which slowly begins to alter your brain chemistry, leaving you in a fit of barely controllable suppressed rage. Or maybe it’s just me… READ MORE

31-12-2019 – Thitherto

Ho ho, and, indeed ho.

We hope that Santa brought you everything you deserve – all I can say is that I must have been a very naughty boy indeed this year.

Anyways, just to catch up on a recent couple of hitherto (and what a magnificent word that is, I do so enjoy the archaic use of a spatial metaphor to describe a temporal condition – but whatever happened to its logical companion term, “thitherto”? – answers on a postcard, please) unreported gigs: – 

A full couple of weeks ago saw us in sunny Caldicot, for a most acceptable evening at the Cellar Bar, about which I can remember very little. READ MORE

09-12-2019 – Election Suggestion

Top o’ the mornin’ to ye!

And this week, we have to report on a rather quirky gig, up in Wotton Under Edge, a charming little town just south of the Vale of Gloucester, and a slightly east of the 18th century.

We were playing at the Star Inn’s Christmas bash; as we pulled up there, there is a brass band (I think) just packing down under a gazebo outside.

Emma looks at me in horror.

(There’s nothing unusual about that in itself, but this time she was looking at me in horror, wondering if we were supposed to playing outside in the cold). As it turned out, we were in fact appointed to be inside the nice warm cosy pub, in a space that looked a little cramped, but – considering it was indoors – we decided was entirely satisfactory. READ MORE

09-12-2019 – Mumsy (late edition)

Yowsa!

Well, a jolly fine evening’s entertainment in the Crown yesterday….It was lovely to see some old pals turning up, including Ben’s mother – who has now been officially adopted as the band’s mum, meaning that we are all entitled to call her “Mummy”, and she, presumably, is entitled to wipe grime off our faces in public, using a hanky laced with spit.

I’m not sure we really thought that one through…

Still, a sizeable and friendly crowd made the evening cheery enough, despite a handful of minor technical disasters for your favourite homegrown axe hero – firstly a duff battery mishap in my wireless, rendering me silent midway through the fourth song; but after a bit of frantic scrabbling for spares, I was back online just in time for the loud crunchy bit. A little later, one of my strap locks snapped – we had to call a halt to that one, while I swapped over to spare guitar as the alternative – paying the rest of the night sitting on a chair – didn’t really seem viable (for one thing, it would make me the same height as Emma). Finally, my amp went mysteriously quiet – inevitably, after pulling up the levels, it cut back in again on full power, which cheered me up immensely, although I don’t think the chap standing directly in front was quite as happy about it. READ MORE