'At The Hop', A Step In The Right Direction', 'Toe The Line' etc etc

Saturday 21st January at midday, in seat 9F on Eurowings flight 4U9467 at Heathrow Airport awaiting take off 

Well. Here we are again. Indeed here we go again, this time to Dortmund via Dusseldorf Airport for a Ruts DC show at The Ruhrpott Ska Explosion Festival. No, I'm not too sure what we're doing at a ska festival either.
It seems strange to think of flying to gigs as 'routine' - which is why I don't think of it as that or anything like it. There's still something exciting about it, even though I've done it a fair few times over the years. I really must grow up one day - then again I've got this far, so maybe not? 
I broke a toe this week. Silly me. Then again I didn't do it deliberately... I guess that at this point there should be some crazy rock 'n' roll story attached to the incident ('there I was in a New York hotel having a drink with Keith Richards and Ronnie Wood when Iggy Pop suggested that I swung from one of the chandeliers. I wouldn't have normally but gripped by the spirit of Keith Moon I though that I'd give it a go...') but no - I somehow caught my foot on a table leg in the front room. Gawd knows how - serves me right for not wearing shoes or indeed (gulp!) slippers eh? It hurt a lot when I did it on Thursday but it hurts a bit less now - then again I have taken some industrial strength Ibuprofen, as advised by the chemist that I hopped in to see not long after the frankly ridiculous table leg / toe equation took place. They also advised me to tape it to an adjacent toe (it's the one next to my little toe on my left foot) and to 'take it easy for a week or so'... as I limped my way towards gate A24 30-odd minutes ago I reflected upon how much we all take 'normality', or whatever 'normality' is in our world, for granted. Without wishing to tempt fate I, like most of us, am lucky enough to be reasonably healthy most of the time - and yet we all moan about the most trivial of things don't we? Well, we do don't we? 
I suppose that last night was a chance to 'take it easy' - so I of course went out to see a Led Zeppelin tribute band at Tropic At Ruislip. Led Zeppelin are revered both as a band and as individuals for a reason, and Hats Off To Led Zeppelin made a very good job of what is some notoriously difficult material - their two set show saw a good selection from the catalogue (finishing the main set with 'Wearing And Tearing' really was a moment for the diehards!) with the obvious classics getting the biggest audience reaction. A good night all round - I'd not been to the club for a while and it was splendid to see it continuing to thrive in these difficult times. 

Right - it looks as though it's take off time so I'm going to try to have a snooze. It's bloomin' tiring having a broken toe. Maybe I should have had a quiet night after all?

Sunday 22nd January at 2.25 pm, in seat 12D on Eurowings flight EW1466 at Dusseldorf Airport awaiting take off

Strange. Very Strange. Well, I think that it is. 
While I'm away doing these crazy jaunts around the rock 'n' roll world I usually take an iPod with me, along with a little battery operated device to play it through; this means that if I get my own room I can use it to play whatever peculiar song has somehow found it's way into my warped mind while I'm attempting to get some sleep. 

('But Leigh' - I hear you cry - 'what of the women? The drink? The drugs? The wilful destruction of hotel rooms? Whatever happened to the spirit of Keith Moon from earlier?' Good question...) 

Anyway last night - oh ok then, very early this morning - I thought I'd play a bit of, wait for it, Eddie and The Hot Rods. Oh it won't work. Flat battery. Very annoying, and strange since I charged it up yesterday. And for some reason it won't charge up now. Bugger!
That's the strange bit, but not the very strange bit. That's coming in a minute.
So I played a song or two on my phone before eventually getting tired enough to get to sleep. Good. After a while I woke up and, since it was dark I attempted to switch my phone on to check the time, like we all do these days. Well, we do don't we? It didn't work. Turn the bedside light on. Try again. Nothing.The battery was as dead as the proverbial dodo. But it was over 70% charged when I went to sleep. Weird. I was of course immediately wide awake, gripped with terror with the hideous realisation that there was obviously an enormous magnetic field (or something) in the hotel that was causing every battery in the building to go flat and so no one's alarm would go off and we'd all be there forever. Or something. A very strange moment- well that's how it felt at the time.

We'd arrived a Dortmund Airport after a pleasingly uneventful flight, and were met by Tony who drove us (at quite a speed, it must be said) to the venue where preparations for the evening were well under way. After checking the drums and amps we were all set to go to our hotel, but with our stage time less than two hours away we decided to stay at the venue. This proved to be a good move as it gave us chance to get something to eat and drink as well as to meet the other bands on the bill. 
Showtime was 7.15 - with things already running late (an unusual situation at events such as this) there was an unwelcome urgency in setting up which caused the odd fraught moment but we go there in the end.
Remember my broken toe? I'd almost forgotten about it too until a few songs into our show when I bought my foot down onto the stage just a little bit too hard - In a split second a heavy metal bolt of pain shot up my leg and out through the top of my head. I remembered it then. Absolute agony. The resulting, er, jazz chord hadn't appeared in 'Vox Teardrop' before, and I for one hope that it doesn't appear again - although a similar one turned up later in 'Psychic Attack' for the same reason. Argh! If you see these performances on YouTube then please cut me a little slack... having collectively wondered what on Earth we were doing at a ska festival we all reached the conclusion 'doing rather well' by the end of our set. A great gig, and it must be said a great evening all round. All the bands played well although I must give a special mention to The Valkarians who were simply brilliant. By the time headliner Roy Ellis hit the stage we were all flagging a bit (well I certainly was!) so we headed for our hotel during his set, but we all agreed that it had been a splendid event to be part of. 
With no more Ruts DC shows for a month or so it's now time to prepare for the Stranglers tour in March which should, to coin a phrase, be something to write home about - which if you think about it, is exactly what I'm likely to do here...    

Tuesday 24th January at 4.27 pm, back in Blighty and at home 

So there you have it - some great gigs and some (hopefully) interesting times. I thought that it might be fun to structure successive posts in a similar manner. There has been minimal editing - they really were written in the places and at the listed times, and this is reflected in the writing, which is sometimes scrappy but often oddly revealing. All good stuff!

Purple patches, purple prose, purple passages...

Well as you might well imagine the news that Ruts D.C. were to support Wilko Johnson at Koko this coming Monday created something of a stir in my little world. The possibility first arose while we were out in Germany last month, and there have been more than a few 'will we? / won't we?' moments over the interim period until the show was finally confirmed. Under normal circumstances this would be easily the most exciting musical event in this posting - it's still probably the winner in that particular chart but last Friday's Upper Cut gig at The Dolphin in Uxbridge runs it surprisingly close...

One of my favourite pre-punk bands were (and indeed still are) the mighty Deep Purple, whose 'Made In Japan' live double album received many-a spin on my record player back in the day. Upper Cut drummer Roger was a roadie for the band in the 1970s, and as we were on our way to the gig he said that 'Roger' might be coming to the show. Ah - that'll be Roger Glover then. Oo-er... well not only did he come to our gig but he also joined Roger, Terry and myself to play 'Rock Me Baby' and 'Goin' Down' to the incredulity of much of the audience and, if I'm honest, me. It was really him, the bloke out of Deep Purple, playing with us. Amazing. And maybe most importantly he was a really nice chap, without a hint of the sort of arrogance or pretension that I've so often had to listen to over the years from ain't-never-been local musicians who bang on about themselves endlessly and never even ask how you are let alone how your music is going. I'll stop now before I start ranting... but in a celebrity-packed evening we also had ex - Keith Moon chauffeur Peter 'Dougal' Butler, Ali McKenzie of The Birds and the guru of the practice drum kit Bill Sanders in the audience. Strange but true, and definitely a night to remember.

On Thursday Ruts D.C. found themselves back at The Music Complex in Deptford for the first time in a while - with the Koko gig coming up we decided to get together to run through some new song ideas and to work out a set for Monday's show. We spent the first half of the session working a potential new song ides based on a riff from Segs and then floundered for a while as we attempted to put a 40 minute support show together; after stopping for coffee we returned to put a set together in no time and then played through it from start to finish with no breaks and no mistakes. Isn't caffeine amazing?!? Unfortunately during the session I discovered a crack in the back of the headstock on my Les Paul - I guess it received a knock at some point during the previous few days or weeks? Either way I dropped it off to Stuart the guitar repair man on the way back from the rehearsal, and he's just bought it round to me looking (almost) as good as new. Top man!

Friday night Big Al Reed and the Blistering Buicks returned to The Three Mariners in Bagshot. As I picked my guitar up to start the first set it felt like ages since I'd last played with the band although it was actually only at the start of September - mind you a lot has happened since then... my good friend Pete Kerr has been depping for me in the meantime and doing a fine job by all accounts - he played with us on Friday, which was fortuitous from my point of view as I felt as though I'd forgotten most of the set! Mac Poole kept it all together depping for Dave on drums, and the show went sufficiently well for us to be offered two more gigs including next Christmas Eve (!) so perhaps I didn't play too badly after all?

Right - I'm off to Camden Town to see tonight's Wilko gig. We're playing with him tomorrow night you know...

Welcome to the cheap seats

It's been a case of 'played two, watched one' this weekend for your humble narrator :-

Friday saw The Upper Cut venture South of the River Thames for the first time; I depped with The Atlantic Soul Machine at Patrick's Bar in Crystal Palace back in March, and remembering it to be a basement venue I decided to take my Fender combo as it's a bit lighter than my recently acquired Marshall. (Yeah I know - but like all six foot tall men I'm a complete wimp!) When we got there the very nice young lady behind the bar told us that we were playing upstairs, and indeed the house P.A. system had already been set up for us. Given the fact that the guv'nor told us after the show that he thought that we'd been a bit loud maybe it's just as well that the mighty Marshall didn't make an appearance? While we were setting up a cheery chappie came over and told us that he was Phil Lynott's cousin; he then went on to tell us that he'd been in prison and The Army. He seemed happy enough... overall the band played very well if not excellently, and although it took a a while for things to get going (and indeed for the audience to arrive as there was only a handful of people in the bar when we started playing - the venue is on the Crystal Palace Triangle and we were told that people wander from bar to bar throughout the evening) we ended up playing a couple of encores and being rebooked for July 26th. It's good when that happens, although remind me to adjust the lights before we start playing next time as both Roger and myself were nearly driven insane by the strobe effect setting. Nasty!

The next night Big Al Reed and The Blistering Buicks played at The Wishing Well in Hayes. You know it's interesting - when you tell people that you're playing in Hayes you generally get comments like 'take a crash helmet', 'wear some armour' and even 'you're going to get killed'. It's funny how some places just have that sort of reputation isn't it? Well in this case they were all wrong (and yes I did get comments like that) as it turned out to be a highly enjoyable evening with everyone in the band on top form and our 2+ hour performance (I didn't realise that we knew that many songs!) going down very well with all concerned. The Blistering Buicks are becoming a very good little band!

And talking of good little bands last night I ventured over to The O2 Arena to see that well-known mod band The Who. I'd heard some very mixed reports about the venue, from some folk calling it the best 'big' venue in the country to others saying that they would never visit it again. I'd always much prefer to see a band in a smaller venue, and as I sat something like a quarter of a mile from the stage (I was in what I believe are referred to as 'the vertigo seats') wondering just how long I could make a £5 plastic glass of flat lager last I don't mind admitting that I was ready to unconditionally hate the evening - I'm pleased to say that any such thoughts disappeared a few seconds into Vintage Trouble's first song. I was first alerted as to their excellence by fellow former Chicago Blues Brothers man Matt who recommended this clip of them playing 'Blues Hand Me Down'; I subsequently bought their excellent 'The Bomb Shelter Sessions' album and so were really looking forward to seeing them play. Indeed if I'm honest it was their presence on the bill that convinced me to get a ticket, as I'd hesitated for a while not least due to the expense. (You and I both know that I'd have gone anyway, but I'm trying to play hard to get here! Incidentally I bought a ticket just a few days ago on Seatwave for well below than the face value. Result!) Great as the album is if anything they're an even more dynamic prospect live, with singer Ty Taylor an unstoppable ball of energy and charisma and the rest of the band up there with him all the way. Much of their set was presumably new songs (well, they're not on the album) but it's a testament to their quality that the rapidly-arriving audience was singing along with choruses and joining in at every opportunity. That said they weren't really given much choice - Vintage Trouble didn't come across  a support band, but more as a headline act, a great band from the moment they hit stage to when they left it to walk through the audience to sign merchandise at the back of the hall. I've never seen a band in a venue this size do that before. Absolutely brilliant. 

The Who, as seen from
Block 416, Row P, Seat 835.
Well it looked like them
on the screens...

So how do The Who follow that? Simple - with the sound of the sea. 'Quadrophenia' often splits the jury even among their most ardent followers, with many finding it overwrought and difficult to get close to, while others consider it to be the band's crowning achievement. Me? Well I'm definitely a long way nearer to the second analysis that the first, and as such I guess I'm very unlikely to give any show that features the album in it's entirety a bad review - that said the last time that I saw them perform it back in 2010 it was one of the least convincing shows that I'd ever seen the band play. Not so this time - with a completely new stage set and background films (no 'talking head' narration this time) and a lot of new faces in the band the whole thing worked wonderfully well, with Pete Townshend playing superbly and Roger Daltrey's vocals continuing to amaze. And thanks to the wonders of modern technology their departed bandmates both made appearances, with John Entwistle 'playing' a bass solo during '5.15' and Keith Moon's classic vocal in 'Bellboy' bringing a massed smile to the audience's faces. And it was great to hear 'Drowned' played by the band rather than as a solo acoustic piece by Townshend - I don't think I've heard it played electrically since way back in the early '80s. I thought the films worked particularly well especially during the two instrumental pieces 'Quadrophenia' and 'The Rock', with the former using footage from the end of World War II through to the mod era of the 1960s and the latter continuing the story up to the 9/11 attacks. As 'Love Reign O'er Me' bought things to a suitably epic climax the audience's reaction seemed to me to be more like the reverential applause that you might get at a classical concert rather than the euphoric type normally associated with rock shows - that's not to say that it didn't go down well, more that it seemed to get an extraordinary amount of respect from the assembled multitude. Maybe 'Quadrophenia' is now seen in a different, more 'serious' light? 
Meanwhile in the vertigo seats the beery bunch of lads next to me didn't seem to know it at all, wondering loudly if Ve Ooo were gunna to play any ov vere old stuff - they didn't seem too familiar with 'Who Are You' or 'You Better You Bet' either, although 'Pinball Wizard' seemed to get their attention to the stage for at least a couple of minutes. Meanwhile the rest of the audience had left their previous reverence well behind, and with mayhem and chaos erupting all around a thunderous end salvo of 'Baba O'Riley' and 'Won't Get Fooled Again' bought the band's contribution to the evening to a magnificent close. It only remained for Townshend and Daltrey to finish proceedings with an oddly fragile-sounding 'Tea And Theatre' - as I left my seat the beery lads were contemplating where vey were gunna get anuvver drink from, while the rest of us were safe in the knowledge that the two surviving members of The Greatest Rock 'n' Roll Band In The World had kept us all from wondering what we would do without The Who for another day. 

A fine evening all round - and there's another one on the horizon this Thursday...

'Take no heroes, take only inspiration...'

I have just - just! - returned from The Old Truman Brewery on London's Brick Lane, where Pete Townshend has been promoting his recently-published autobiography 'Who I Am'. He was interviewed by Will Hodgkinson, participated in a question and answer session with the audience and signed many-a copy of said publication.

I arrived at the venue at almost exactly 6.45pm, fifteen minutes before the event was due to begin. I'd walked a quick walk from Aldgate tube station as I didn't know how far along Brick Lane I was going to have to go; as I passed Rough Trade East on my left I saw a large chimney with TRUMAN written on it in front of me to the right - a good sight. The Old Truman Brewery is another one of those undeniably impressive buildings that would probably have been demolished by now if someone hadn't come up with the idea of using it for something other than the job it was originally intended for, and walking in you have to think that it's a good job that they did. To the right was a Waterstones stall piled high with books, to the left an audience of maybe a couple of hundred with a small stage in the centre facing the assembled multitude. I bought a book (you just knew that I would didn't you?!?) and found a seat next to a studious-looking chap who looked to be making short work of The Times crossword. A live recording of The Who could just be heard over the massed mumbling. Good.
Around ten past seven a ripple of applause found it's way around the room as a young lady attempted to introduce the evening. Sadly her words were hardly heard, as as her microphone either let out a wall of feedback or didn't work at all. This situation continued throughout the first few minutes of the Townshend / Hodgkinson exchange which annoyed large sections of the audience (which I think is rather ironic, given Townshend's pioneering use of feedback on guitar, and indeed the row that his band were capable of making!) although things were more-or-less sorted out (PT apologised for being late as he'd travelled by train meaning that there was no time to check the microphones) in the end. The interview went well and was very interesting, with Townshend giving some typically involved answers and swearing a bit too much for the people in front of me - again, a bit ironic don't you think? After 45 minutes or so of regaling us with tales of Moonie and The Ox, his ongoing relationship with Roger Daltrey and more it was time for questions from the fans - again the microphones went wrong, again Townshend didn't scrimp on the answers - before the previously calm and genial audience became a seething rugby scrum hell bent on destruction. This could only mean one thing -  yes, it was time to get your book signed... confusion reigned for a few minutes as no one seemed to be sure where Townshend would be sitting - I found myself near the back of the queue (I always seem to find myself near the back of the queue!) as order was restored. Judging by the number of people in front of me the Waterstones stall had clearly been been very busy - as we shuffled our way towards our quest people wondered if he'd sign all the books or if he'd get bored and leave early. 
After a half an hour I was a few people away from the front of the queue. The staff were friendly, asking us to have our books open ready at the title page and smiling cheerily as we all complied. I gave my (open) book to the gentleman to the left of where Pete was sitting and suddenly I was face to face with the man himself, the nearest I have to a hero. Oo-er... he looked up at me, smiled (a bit) and signed the book with a black felt pen and a large flourish. Excellent. He looked up and smiled (a bit) again and I suddenly thought that I could say something like 'hello Pete, I'm Leigh, you're the reason that I play guitar, no really you are, and I play guitar with Ruts D.C., you know, Segs and Ruffy's band, you used to know Paul Fox as well didn't you? Can we have some gigs with The 'Oo please?' I decided against this (a wise decision don't you think?) and instead said 'brilliant, thank you'. He said 'thank you' quietly and smiled (a bit) again as he gamely shook my hand.

I walked away, putting my book back into the Waterstones plastic bag provided as I did so. I then realised that I was dying for a pee. 
On my way to look for the toilet I bumped into Mark of Monkey Picks fame. After exchanging hellos he asked if I'd got my 'bit of scribble'? 'Yeah' I said, rather more nonchalantly than I thought I would. And why not? They (whoever 'they' are) say that you should never meet your heroes, and 'they' may well be correct. And I haven't met mine have I? - well, not really anyway. But I'm well pleased with my book. I might even read it one day!

Television's over

Another gig-less weekend means another chance to watch television - normally I'd be moaning (as usual!) by now but since this week saw the first screening of a new documentary on one of The Who's finest works 'Quadrophenia' I'm nowhere near as miserable as I might normally be. The show in question was 'Quadrophenia: Can You See The Real Me?' and I'm pleased to say that it more than lived up to expectations, with new interviews from Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey alongside archive contributions from John Entwistle and Keith Moon and some astonishing hitherto unseen footage (by me at least) of the band playing at The Belle Vue in Manchester in 1973 among the highlights of an absolutely excellent programme. It was particularly interesting to hear the multi-track recordings of the original album in isolation, with Entwistle's horns shadowing Townshend's guitar part on '5.15' and Daltery's end-of-the-World scream at the end of 'Love Reign O'er Me' both sounding even more incredible than ever. Around half of the album received a song-by-song analysis - one can only hope that there's a longer Director's Cut of the show that looks at the whole album in the same detailed way. Great stuff, as was the previous weekend's 'David Bowie and the Story Of Ziggy Stardust' which as it's name suggests took a look at Bowie's classic album. Once again contemporary interviews with some of the key contributors sat alongside some fine archive footage, with The Spiders From Mars (featuring the mighty Mick Ronson on lead guitar) sounding as great as ever. Maybe staying in watching television isn't so bad after all?


And maybe things are starting to improve a bit generally, as I managed to get out and about with a guitar in my hand this week - albeit for rehearsals rather than shows, but at least this means that there are some gigs on the horizon. Monday evening saw The Flying Squad get together for the first time this year (well, there's no need to rush into things now is there?) as we have a show coming up supporting The Clashed at Tropic At Ruislip at the end of August. As expected there were a few cobwebs to blow away but all things considered the band sounded good, running through songs from previous sets as well as a few new numbers. And on Wednesday I met up with T.V. Smith to discuss tactics for two festival shows that we're playing this summer (more about them in the not-too-distant future) and to look at possible additions to our repertoire. It was good to be working with both acts again, and it was good to get along to the afore-mentioned Ruislip venue on Friday evening to see Who tribute band Who's Who. Heavy hay fever meant that my eyes and ears weren't at their best (I often get earwax problems when I get a cold or hay fever, and this was one of those times; itchy eyes are of course a more general symptom of the condition) so maybe my thoughts that the band took a bit of time to get going sound-wise are due to me not hearing properly rather than their performance - either way the audience seemed somewhat subdued for the first part of their 2 hour show, although by the end things were suitably raucous all round. An enjoyable evening.


I've got a gig next weekend. Time to play the guitar rather than watching other people playing it on stage or on television. Good.

The moon's a balloon

Fantastic news - Keith Moon has been approached to make an appearance with The Who at the opening ceremony of the 2012 Olympic Games. At last it's the reunion that we fans have been waiting for! I can only hope that doesn't prove to be a rather late April Fool joke, as The Who's manager Bill Curbishley doesn't appear to be taking it very seriously - either that or as this story shows he's trying to ruin everything by suggesting that Moonie has been a little difficult to contact for the last 30-odd years. Surely the Olympics committee concerned wouldn't have made the laughable, tragic, pathetic error of inviting a dead person to participate in their ghastly charade would they? Of course there is always a chance that it's actually an indication of spectacular incompetence on the part of the organisers - after all, it's hard to think that with someone like Jeremy Hunt on the team they could be anything less than excellent isn't it?

Mention of the man they (allegedly) call 'Corrible' remind me that it seems customary for an ill-informed politician or celebrity to put one or more of their feet squarely in their mouth around the anniversary of the Hillsborough disaster, and this year it's the turn of 'comedian' Alan Davies who clearly used every last iota of his intellect and wit when he observed that it 'gets on his tits' that Liverpool F.C. choose not to play on April 15th as a mark of respect to the 96 fans who died on that ill-fated day. He then went on to make several other similarly well-argued observations (click here to find out what they were and some of the reactions to them) and was then amazed when some people found them offensive. I don't know very much about him as a person but pretty much every time I've seen him on shows like 'Q.I.' I've thought him to be smug, self-obsessed and above all unfunny (not exactly a career move for somebody who appears to consider themselves to be a comedian) although I suppose that somebody must like him; I also believe that he's something of a football fan which to me make his comments all the more unfathomable. Anyone with even the remotest interest in the game is aware of the ongoing sensitivity of anything to do with Hillsborough; also surely the point here is that Liverpool F.C. choose not to play on that day i.e. it's their way of honouring the people who died and the others who were effected by the tragedy, and as such that should be respected. Apparently Davies has a show booked at The Liverpool Empire in September - now that should be a very interesting evening, and probably quite an easy one to get a ticket for...

In the meantime much evidence of last weekend's Department S show has surfaced by the magic of the Internet - click here for a YouTube interview with guitarist Mike followed by 'My Coo Ca Choo' (the interview explains why that song is in the set!) as well as these four more clips, while the evocatively named 'Peek-A-Boo' magazine features these photos taken at the show. All good stuff, although I might wear a different hat next time!

Time for another F.B.I. Band gig on Saturday night, at Harry and Clemmie's wedding reception at Boodles Club in Central London. With a membership that has included people like The Duke Of Wellington, Sir Winston Churchill and David Niven this is another of those 'they-don't-normally-let-people-like-me-into-places-like-this' gigs that your humble narrator participates in from time to time; these generally end with me uttering oaths and curses in these hallowed pages followed by me suggesting insurrection and class war at the earliest possible opportunity. To be honest as an evening this one went along similar lines to all the other ones (i.e. a bunch of toffs take virtually no notice of us until some of the more drunken among them accidentally start dancing recklessly and a bit too close to the band for comfort; suddenly loads of them start doing the same in case they were missing out on something and the show ends with scenes of general mayhem and them barking their demands for more in the general direction of the band before lurching off in the general direction of the bar) so I don't feel as though there's too much to say that I haven't said on similar occasions. However the band (Tony on vocals, Richard on keyboards, Mark on drums and Jon on bass - more about the horn players in a minute) did manage a drink in the nearby Red Lion before the show which was most enjoyable; at the club I braved a look in the 'Members Requirements' book (essentially suggestions and / or complaints) which regularly featured Henry Blofeld musing on subjects as diverse as digestive biscuits (he wanted McVitie's rather than the non-descript brand that he'd been served) and who he sat next to at breakfast (he wasn't too happy about being seated next to a stranger) among other similarly life-threatening incidents. But probably the oddest incident occurred shortly before 9 pm, the allotted time for our first set - Jim the trumpet player arrived with minutes to spare (as usual! How does he do that?!?) and asked where Ian the Sax man was; when Tony said that he wasn't doing this show and he believed a dep had been arranged Jim sat down with the words 'oh, is this the one that he can't do?', pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket and began dialling. Within a few minutes he said 'Howard will be here around 10.30' than asked if there was any food... with no sign of any guest or indeed the bride or groom we were led down to the staff canteen where food was indeed available, before going back upstairs just as a chap wearing a saxophone strolled in, introduced himself as Howard ('I've been doing ''Singin' In The Rain'' around the corner') before blowing a few notes to check if his microphone was working correctly. We began 'Soul Man' a few minutes later to an empty room; it took 4 or 5 songs before the dangerous dancing started - and you know the rest...

And yesterday saw an all-day Cool Britannia rehearsal at Ruff Rockers in Uxbridge. We'd all been a bit disappointed with last month's Southend session as we felt that we didn't sound as good as we might have, but fortunately it all went better this time with everyone playing well and pretty much all the songs sounding like they should. With not long to go before the opening night this can only be a good thing!

In the meantime I'm off to play 'Live At Leeds' (and indeed to watch the only footage of that incredible show) and to wish that I'd seen The Who with Keith Moon behind the kit. After all, that opening ceremony story surely must have been a not-particularly-good-taste joke - mustn't it?

'In other news...'

No gigs for your humble narrator this weekend (although I did manage to catch a fine set from Larry Miller at Tropic At Ruislip on Friday) so it's time for another commercial break :-

Following on from their Ace! club night a couple of months ago Darren and Simon have started GOOD FOR NOTHING at The Crown And Sceptre in Uxbridge. They're looking to be there every Wednesday evening starting this week playing 'pop, soul indie and rock 'n' roll from the '50s to now' (sounds good doesn't it?) with occasional solo live music sets (Scott from Balcony Shirts is playing at next week's gathering - I might even do a bit myself!) with full details to be found on the ever-excellent 'What's On In Uxbridge' website.

There's also time for a quick plug for my good friend and Blue Five partner-in-crime Pete a.k.a. Voltarol who is promoting (and indeed performing in) a series of shows featuring Brazilian singer Silvia Nicolatto and a band of Anglo-Cornish musicians put together especially for the project. They're gigging throughout September and October in Cornwall and Dorset, and full details of the gigs and their progress towards them can be found here. They're writing songs over the Internet and everything!

Keith Moon died 33 years ago on Wednesday; he would have been 65 last month and to mark that occasion the mod-tastic Monkey Picks blog featured some previously unseen pictures of the great man. I've written of my admiration of The Who in these hallowed pages many times so I won't do any of the usual over-emotional dribbling here - instead I'll just point you to these three clips of the Greatest Rock 'n' Roll Band In The World (quote unquote) at their incomparable, untouchable best. Nobody did it better, nobody does it better and I personally don't think anybody ever will. Cheers Moonie.