|Let's face it - it could be anything...|
We - Ruts DC, director Graham Trott and assorted assistants - were filming in a warehouse in The Bussey Building in Peckham for much of last Friday; footage of guest vocalist Henry Rollins and guest guitarist Boz Boorer was (as I believe the film people say) already in the can. It was a long and at times difficult day - Graham was using a drone to film us but as the floor of the warehouse was covered in cement dust (or something - I tried not to think too deeply about what it might or might not have been!) every time it took off it stirred up clouds of the bloody stuff. Oh and the drone itself crashed into a light on one of it's first flights - there was a spare but the incident somehow seemed to sum up proceedings up until that point. Fortunately matters improved considerably as the day went on, and by the time various friends (including Mr. Spee from Dreadzone, Paul from King Kurt and Bristol promoters Ziggy and Jon) arrived to participate in the crowd scenes the atmosphere was better. Or maybe we'd just got used to the dust by then? Our day had begun with a photo shoot - suitably suited and booted we posed furiously for Graham's camera, and if the examples I saw were anything to go by both the pictures and video should be well worth the work. We'll all know soon enough - more news as and when I have it.
The somewhat less-than-pleasant fallout from our day in the dust was that I had an hour-long nosebleed when I got home, and another one in the morning when I felt how I'd imagine I'd feel if I'd been hit in the face by Muhammad Ali in his prime. See how I suffer for my art? This meant for a not-particularly enjoyable day in Balcony Shirts, although that was nothing compared to the potentially life-threatening Big Al Reed and The Blistering Buicks performance the next afternoon at The White Horse in Longford near Staines. We were playing under an gazebo in the pub garden, which was all well and good for the first sunny set but proved to be woefully inadequate when the rain arrived during our second set. It's never a good feeling to know that the only thing stopping the by-now deceptively heavy rain from landing on the plugboard that your amplifier is plugged into is a piece of soggy cardboard. Dave the drummer attempted to play with an umbrella wedged behind him as we all huddled increasing closely in search of shelter but when Dave's bass amp slid of the up-until-that-point stage table with a resounding crash enough was more than enough. This was a shame as we were playing well and people were enjoying it but it was simply too dangerous to carry on.