'Oh Lordy, Oh Lordy...'

So - there is still little or no time to do anything but play the guitar (not all bad news then!) or help attempt to stem the Christmas tide in Balcony Shirts, and now I've managed to develop that most hideous of conditions - yes, I've got (gulp!) ManFlu. Oh gawd! I felt a bit rough last week but vast application of paracetamol coupled with what passes for a couple of early nights in my warped world seemed to have kept it at bay - but this morning I woke up feeling as though I'd done 10 rounds with Mike Tyson in his prime. Bugger! Oh well - time for more paracetamol and another early night then... maybe yesterday afternoon's Big Al Reed and The Blistering Buicks gig at Ye Olde George in Colnbrook was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back? It was certainly a good show and it was great to see the lads again, but I was out on my feet by the end of it. And I feel worse now. Bah! And if that wasn't bad enough, I didn't get to see The Who - mind you, no one did!

In the meantime it was a great gig with T.V. Smith at The 12 Bar Club last Friday - with Goldblade, Eastfield, The Anabollic Steroids and Viva Las Vegas also on the bill it was definitely a good value evening, which began with a four song set from Sarah Pink (covers of 'John, I'm Only Dancing' and 'Teenage Kicks' alongside two of her own songs) before I walked down Oxford Street to catch a bit of the Human Punk night at The 100 Club. As I got there I bumped in to co-promoter John King just as The Pukes began their set - they're always good fun and this show was no exception, after which Andy the D.J. played 'The Price You Pay' by The Price. Weird! As Infa Riot began their second number it was time for me to return to my own gig - walking across the club I couldn't help but notice that someone had collapsed in front of the merchandise stall, I told the security men on my way out but the didn't seem to be overly concerned so let's hope the chap was ok.
Back at The 12 Bar Club Eastfield were roaring through their splendid set, followed by a typically upfront Goldblade gig with John Robb giving it everything as usual and the packed audience loving every minute of it. Meanwhile T.V. and myself met at the bar to discuss tactics - I was using an electric guitar for the first time and don't mind admitting that I was feeling a bit nervous, but as always the sheer quality of T.V.'s songs meant that the gig went well, to such an extent that we're seriously considering repeating the T.V.-on-acoustic / Leigh-on-electric again at the earliest opportunity. Great stuff! There was time to catch a few songs from Viva Las Vegas before clubbing together for a cab home - after all, there was a long Saturday in prospect...

As the Ruts D.C. bus pulled up outside The Fleece in Bristol I realised that I'd managed to doze off for a while at least. It's a great venue and Ziggy and Jon of Death Or Glory Promotions work tirelessly to put on gigs all the year round. We had a few monitor problems in our soundcheck but as always Bob got us a great sound, and while support band Criminal Mind warmed up the rapidly arriving crowd the scene was set for a memorable performance. As we began with 'Whatever We Do' it was clear that the crowd were on our side, and by the time we got to the rarely-played 'Dope For Guns' things were really taking off. Despite a couple of plastic glasses being thrown the atmosphere remained good throughout, with plenty of banter and each song getting more and more of a reaction. We ended to deafening applause, and our encore of 'Something That I Said', 'H-Eyes' and 'Society' finished a truly brilliant gig. As I walk of stage a chap stops me to say that he'd cried during 'Babylon's Burning', another said that it was the best gig that he'd ever seen - all the money in the World can't buy you moments like that. 
Afterwards there's time for a few drinks before heading off to our hotel - we hope to visit the bar for one last end-of-tour drink but sadly it's closed. Oh well, you can't have everything can you? - after all, as John Cooper Clarke once brilliantly asked, where would you put it?  
  

'We should be on by now...'

Another busy, busy, BUSY few days - I'm not going to complain (for once!) but I am going to play the 'not much time for blogging' card. As previously mentioned January is looking rather quiet at the moment so maybe I'll catch up with all my scribbly notes then? In the meantime here's a brief summary of the last few days...

Ruts D.C. played two shows at the end of last week, at The Craufurd Arms in Milton Keynes on Thursday and The Waterfront in Norwich the following night. The first show was good but was somewhat hard work - things got off to an odd start when the first thing we saw at the venue was a poster for the gig with a band photo from 1981 featuring Paul Fox. Perhaps this put us on edge a bit - either way we felt that the show wasn't as good as we'd have liked it to be. Friday's show on the other hand was one of the best of the current run of gigs, with everything falling into place and the audience with us from the first few notes to the last encore of 'H-Eyes'. And it was great to see Steve Ignorant who we played with in Manchester a couple of weeks ago. This Saturday it's our last show of the year, at The Fleece in Bristol - it should be a good one!

On Saturday night I depped with Department S, supporting The Members at The 229 Club near Great Portland Street station. I'd not been to the venue before - we were in the smaller room while the The Beat playing in the bigger auditorium. We'd had a rehearsal a couple of weeks ago, and in the meantime I'd been working on their material on my own - our 50+ minute show was well-received by all concerned, including ourselves. It's a good band with excellent songs - what's not to like, as the youngsters (apparently) say? The Members were joined by ex - Vibrators mainman Knox for 'Baby Baby', and with guitarist Nigel Bennett nursing a broken leg (!) the band roared through their set with plenty of energy and more than a few gags about plaster casts. A fine evening.

And yesterday afternoon The Upper Cut played at Ye Olde George in Colnbrook. Sometime in the last month or so (I'm not really sure when!) I bought myself a Gibson Les Paul Special, and this show and the night before seemed like two good chances to try it out - I'm pleased to say that it both felt and sounded great, to such an extent that I'm hoping to use it a fair bit over the next few weeks. Money well spent (for once!)

This week is busy too - I'm going to see The Who at The O2 Arena, am back in Colnbrook with Big Al Reed and The Blistering Buicks on Sunday (if I'm back from Bristol in time!) and will be playing my first show for quite some time with T.V. Smith, at The 12 Bar Club on Friday night with Goldblade, Eastfield and more. Sadly it seems that the club will be closing early next year - words like 'tragedy' don't cover it. I'm sure that I and quite a few other people will be ranting about this in the weeks to come, but in the meantime Friday's show has all the makings of an absolute classic. Oh yes!

From Bristol to Brixton and beyond

It was around half past eight yesterday evening and I was walking towards Brixton Underground Station. As I rummaged in my pocket for my Oyster Card I thought to myself 'hmmm - I've just left Segs with one of the biggest dope smugglers the World has ever seen, someone who used to work for The Kray Twins, and that mad bloke out of The Happy Mondays. What could possibly go wrong?...' 

This frankly astonishing thought came at the end of a splendid three days for Ruts D. C., beginning with a set at VegFest in Bristol on Saturday night. The show went well until about halfway through our set when, as the old saying goes, the heavens opened - I must admit that I didn't realise how heavily it was raining until I saw one of the sound men turning over various plug boards (including, rather worryingly, the one that my effect pedals were plugged into) over, presumably in an attempt to lessen the chance of water getting into them. I have feeling things were possibly a little more dangerous that I thought at the time... before us Goldblade had played a typically boisterous set with John Robb as crazy as ever out front; after us Peter Hook And The Light took the place by storm with a brilliant show that particularly impressed Segs, to such an extent that he even attempted to shake Hooky's hand from in the photographers pit mid-song. John Robb also appeared alongside us the next night at Strummercamp in Cheadle Hulme, this time as lead singer and bass player in The Membranes. I think I last saw them around 30 years ago, and I'm pleased to say that nothing much has changed in the interim period with them sounding every bit as spiky as I remember them sounding first time around. Our show began with a burst of P.A. system feedback that was so severe that we had to stop our first song so that it could be sorted out. From there on in however it was a great gig - we'd decided to play 'Generations' (a song that Segs wrote with Joe Strummer and Rat Scabies) and since Seamus Beaghen was going to be there (he was on later with Lee Thompson and used to play with us) we hoped that he would join us for that and a few other songs, but sadly he was delayed and couldn't make it which was a real shame - still it was great to see him again. We'd also added the old Ruts track 'S.U.S.' to the set all weekend which was great to play and went down really well so hopefully that'll stay in the show for the next batch of shows. We went down well enough that we could have played an encore but with things running late we thought it was better that we didn't and so made way for Lee Thompson's Ska Orchestra who finished off proceedings in fine style. And we made it to Jamm in Brixton yesterday afternoon (while he was queueing in a motorway service station toilet Segs was stopped by someone with the words 'this is a strange place to meet a bass legend'. I suppose it was if you think about it!) in time to make a 'surprise' appearance (well it certainly was a surprise to us as we didn't know that we were definitely appearing until two days before!) at the 'Best In Brixton' charity event. After checking in it was time for a drink - we arrived back from The Crown And Anchor (well, we had a set list to write!) just as Howard Marks was presenting extracts from his 'Scholar, Smuggler, Prisoner, Scribe' one man show, and from what I saw I wish I'd seen the whole thing. As we were about to go onstage a chap came up to me and asked 'are these The Ruts who did 'Babylon's Burning' and all that?' I told him that, yes, some of them are... Tenor Fly joined us for 'Mighty Soldier', 'S.U.S.' seemed even more powerful than on the previous two evenings (I really hope that it stays in the set!) and the final adrenalin rush of 'Society' bought the proverbial house down. A great show, after which I met the afore-mentioned Mr. Marks, Freddie Foreman (or 'Brown Bread Fred' as he was known back in the day. Oo-er!) and Bez, who was DJ-ing later in the evening. Sometimes I can hardly believe what I type here.

Incidentally, in case you were wondering - Segs is fine, although he didn't get to bed until gone 9 o'clock this morning. I don't suppose that I would have either...

Sick of being sick

Well it's a funny old life sometimes isn't it? I just looked at the end of the last blog posting, when referring to the currently-customary Monday nights at The 12 Bar Club I wrote - 

'Oh well - there's always next Monday... hopefully...' 

- and let's face it, that's a fair enough comment if you think about it. Well obviously I think that it is as I wrote it, but well, you know what I mean... anyway, it turned out that from my point of view there wasn't next Monday - not at The 12 Bar Club anyway. Here, as best I can recall, is the story of the last few days...

THURSDAY 20th MARCH

I spent much the day at my niece Sherrie's wedding in Weybridge. No I didn't drink too much, honest - in actual fact I stayed on the soft drinks and ate sandwiches and cake with other family members and friends. A good day. Or so I thought. 

FRIDAY 21st MARCH

As I going away with Ruts D.C. the next morning it would have been nice to have had a lazy day, but instead I worked in Balcony Shirts - I'm generally in there on Wednesdays but as Ruts D.C. rehearsed that day I swapped a day with Simona and was in on Friday instead. Simple eh? A fairly busy day which I spent most of feeling tired and a bit out of sorts. Well, it had been a long day on Thursday hadn't it?
Big Al And The Blistering Buicks were playing at The Dolphin in Uxbridge that evening - Pete and myself hatched a plan to go there early and have a curry (one each, not one between us!) before everyone else arrived. To this end we were there around 7 o'clock, and spent the next hour working our way through some food and drink. And very nice it was too. Soon enough the rest of the band arrived - we all set up and readied ourselves for action. But all was not well, at least from my point of view. I was tired - really tired - and hot. Really hot. As in sweating and everything. Please don't let this mean I'm getting the flu or something like it. Please.
The first set then, and I feel terrible. Terrible. But we're playing well and people are enjoying it, so that's ok. But I'm dizzy and my stomach feels like it's swelling up. What on Earth is going on? By the interval I'm feeling even worse, to the extent that I'm not sure if I can manage the second set. Don't silly Leigh, just get on with it. We start again and I nearly overbalance, I make it to the third number before it all gets too much - I take my guitar off as slowly and as calmly as I can, put it down and stumble to the nearest gents toilet. I then spend the next song-and-a-half being violently and horribly sick. Urgh! And what song were we playing when it all got too much - 'We Gotta Get Out Of This Place'... I'm back in the band for 'Shakin' All Over' but off again for 'Sharp Dressed Man' - I make it to the end of the set but then it's time to be sick again. Not the best evening - although it wasn't a bad gig, if you see what I mean.

SATURDAY 22ND MARCH

I woke up after around 4 hours of broken, fitful sleep. It was 6am. As I came to my senses I realised that I felt how I would imagine that I would have felt if I'd spent some time in the ring with Mike Tyson in his prime. I had the very definition of a 'splitting headache', my stomach was churning, my sides hurt and I doubt that I would have had a worse taste in my mouth if I'd been drinking paint stripper. Not good frankly. But, incredibly, there was no time to worry about any of that, as I had to get myself across to South London to meet the rest of Ruts D.C. before flying from Gatwick Airport to Amsterdam to play at The Rebellion Festival. I'd been looking forward to this since we first got the gig - now I had no idea how or indeed if I was going to be able to do the show.
'Hey guys - we're in Amsterdam!' And we were. Segs sounded excited, and why shouldn't he be? And I felt a bit better, although the words 'a bit' are quite important here. I'd slept for most of the car journey to the airport and for indeed most the flight, and had been steadily drinking bottled water in an attempt to rehydrate myself - that's the thing that you're supposed to do at times such as this isn't it? As we took a cab from Schiphol to The Milkweg Amsterdam looked pretty much how it was supposed to. Judging by my reflection in the rear view mirror I on the other hand looked grey and cold - which was pretty much how I felt. But even that was better than earlier so things were looking up. Sort of. We met Molara at the venue, who upon hearing of my plight immediately took charge, ordering me to find 'dry crackers, and sugary drinks like Sprite, 7-Up, Pepsi' - after swallowing what I thought was a potentially unwise amount I was amazed to find myself getting a burst of energy. Suddenly I had a way of getting through the show. Probably. Good. In the meantime we've got to check in at our hotel - as we walk around the corner a voice shouts 'RUTS' and a huge cheery man gets out of a small car followed by a couple of friends, they've come from Poland to see the show and ask Dave and Segs for photos with them. A nice moment.
My alarm woke me up at 5.45pm. We're due on in 90 minutes. As my head clears I realise that I feel... ok... ish... I get up and head back to the venue. Time to go to work. When I get back to The Milkweg Department S are on and Jed is behind The Damned (they're on after us) merchandise table. It's nice to see some familiar faces - things are getting better all the time. I climb the spiral staircase to the dressing rooms and meet various Damned members along the way before bumping into Jon their guitar tech who upon hearing of my condition immediately offers to help me with my equipment. Top man! I've got a Marshall stack to play through, I've bought my effect pedals with me and there are new strings on my Les Paul - at last it's time for some music. But first, some sugary drinks to wash the crackers down. Rock 'n' Roll eh?
Quarter past seven and I'm on stage. 12 hours earlier I wasn't sure that I would be. We start with 'Mighty Soldier' and my guitar is heavier on my shoulder than I remember it being. But it's alright. We play, and we play, and we play, and we go down better and better as we do so. After 'Love In Vain' a chap gets on stage and asks us to 'play a song for Foxy' - I think about saying something like 'I play them all for Foxy mate' but I don't feel like it, and anyway I've a funny feeling he did something like that at another gig and I said it then. Oh well. Segs calls 'Something That I Said' instead of 'West One (Shine On Me)', I put everything I can into the guitar solo, and halfway though it I burp and for want of a better term, something appears in my mouth... I make a mistake (it happens at 2.14 in this clip - well, that's my excuse anyway!) which annoys me but I guess I shouldn't be too hard on myself. We finish with 'Society' and the whole place goes crazy. Job done. Good.
Afterwards I watch a few songs from The Damned who sound as great as ever, with Dave Vanian looking like a demonic dentist and Captain Sensible on great form. I see a song or two by Goldblade then meet T.V. Smith in the bar, it's been ages since we've seen each other and I say how much I'd love to stay and chat but suddenly I'm flagging dramatically. It's time to call it a day. But I'm pleased that I've got this far; I'm pleased to have done anything at all. As all around me plan to watch headliners Cock Sparrer and continue the festivities into the small hours I share a cab with Molara back to our hotel. I get to my room, go in and close the door. Suddenly I feel rough. I put the television on and find a Jimi Hendrix documentary and a (presumably) Dutch version of 'Have I Got News For You'. Oh and 'QI' in English. Things aren't all bad. They rarely are if you think about it.

SUNDAY 23RD MARCH

The next morning dawned early, as we had to be at the airport for 9am. Judging by the looks of Dave Segs and Nick our soundman they'd had a good night. And why not? At Schiphol there's a large 'Bird Control' photo display board that amuses Nick no end, and beers are being ordered before 10 o'clock to celebrate Dave's birthday - I decide to brave a latte and some toast, which thankfully doesn't re-appear. I then spend the flight to Gatwick drifting in and out of consciousness and the car journey back to London in a similar state. When I get home I go to sleep. Who said coffee keeps you awake?
My alarm woke me up 45 minutes earlier than it had the previous day. Time to go to work again - Big Al and co. are playing at The Horns in Watford. I travel over with Pete who thankfully has had no ill effects from Friday's food. That's good. That's very good. It looks as though I was just unlucky. 
The Hill St. Blues Band are still playing when we arrive at The Horns - I say hello to the rest of the band and recount the horrors (and indeed the good bits) of the last day or so. We're due on around 7.30 so there's time for a glass of water (!) and a chat with some of Al's friends before we set up and get ready to play. The band had performed without me the night before so this is their third show in a row, it shows with everyone on form and Paul the soundman getting a great balance. The first set goes so well that we're offered a return gig in the interval, and the second set has a celebratory feel as a result. I feel a bit shaky here and feel very tired during the encore, but it's a great end to the weekend. 

MONDAY 24th MARCH

By the time I get to Balcony Shirts I feel so bad that I'm ready to turn around and go home again. Bugger. I stumble through the day, occasionally recounting tales of the weekend to Simona, customers, anyone that will listen, all the while feeling at best bad and at worst dreadful. I make a couple of daft mistakes in the shop which annoy me, but I decide that there's no point in being silly about it. I'm not well after all. 
In the evening I get home and consider my options. There are no options. I'm not going to The 12 Bar Club. Oh well. There's always next Monday. Hopefully.

POST SCRIPT - TUESDAY 25th MARCH

I spent Monday evening writing much of the above and then having an early-ish night. A good move methinks. Not long after I got up this morning I received a phone call from my brother Terry - after saying hello he asked how I was feeling, I assumed he'd heard about me being ill but it turned out that he and 'a dozen or more' of the wedding party had been ill with stomach problems since Thursday. Was it the egg sandwiches we wondered? Who knows. But I'm feeling better. At last. Onwards and upwards, as they say. Whoever 'they' are...

Rebel Rebel

'If you don't go now you'll miss breakfast...'

Wise words at the best of times, but at 2.15 a.m. this morning they were particularly pertinent. Your humble narrator was musing on the merits or otherwise of staying at the after show party for yet another drink when the former bass player of popular punk rock combo The Adverts made the above observation. I thought for a few seconds before deciding that she was probably correct, bade everyone a cheery farewell and stumbled off into the Blackpool night in the general direction of my hotel. As I neared my quest I ruminated on the fact that (a) should I find myself at The Rebellion Festival again I'll book somewhere that's a bit nearer to The Winter Gardens than The Ambassador Hotel, and (b) that was the best night out I'd had for ages.

The journey to Blackpool had been simple enough - a tube train to Euston Square, walk around the corner to Euston Station with enough time for a vegetarian breakfast in The Britannia before catching the 12.25 p.m. Glasgow Central train to Preston where I changed onto the Blackpool North train. Arriving in Blackpool around 3.40 I rather extravagantly got a cab to The Ambassador Hotel - I've got room 312 in what is a classic old fashioned seaside hotel, as I'm checking in the jolly lady behind the counter asks me if I'm 'one of the turns down at that festival' and tells me that she recently went to see 'that Katherine Jenkins, she's really good and really young looking'. As I'm sorting my stuff out in my room I hear a jet aircraft roaring overhead, it sounds like you'd imaging one of The Red Arrows would sound if it had flown over the hotel. As I begin my walk along the promenade in the general direction of the venue I realise that it hadn't been one of The Red Arrows making all that noise - it was actually two of them. Excellent.

It was about a 20 minute walk to The Winter Gardens ('turn left at "Harry Ramsden's", you cant miss it') which is far enough with an acoustic guitar and a bag of leads but it's bright and breezy and there's something about the seaside that always makes me smile. As I get closer to The North Pier the ratio of punky-looking people starts to increase, and by the time I get to the venue there are multi-coloured Mohicans everywhere. The atmosphere is good and the policemen and women don't seem to have much to do - I picked up my A.A.A. wristband from the box office and climbed the stone steps into the main part of The Winter Gardens. I was last here when I depped in Foxy's Ruts way back in August 2007 and I'm here to play with T.V Smith this time, nothing much has changed from what I remember and I find T.V. behind his merchandise table doing a roaring trade. He shows me to the backstage area of The Bizarre Bazaar where we're on at 6.30, I drop my gear off while Captain Sensible soundchecks with 'Astronomy Domine'. We agree to meet up at 6 o'clock so there's time for a look around - I catch a couple of songs by Goldblade in The Empress Ballroom before saying hello to Arturo of The Lurkers whose merchandise stall is by the Bizarre Bazaar backstage door. Then it's back into The Empress for Glen Matlock And The Philistines, Matlock's playing guitar alongside James Stevenson which is a bit of a shame as I've always thought of him as one of rock's great bass players although 'Burning Sounds' and 'God Save The Queen' both sound pretty good to me. Meanwhile over in The Olympia Neck are setting up; I played in the band around 10 years ago and would love to have seen their set but sadly they're on at the same time as us although I managed a few words with Leeson and agreed to meet him later for a drink. I see their first song 'Loud 'n' Proud 'n' Bold' before I had to leave to meet up with T. V. - time to go to work...

We start with 'No Time To Be 21' at exactly 6.30. The room looked full when we started and was definitely full by the end of 'Bored Teenagers' with somewhere between 800 and 1,000 people in depending on whose estimate you believe watching our set. Longtime T.V. fan Kevin had asked for 'The Servant' which I'd like to have made a better job of (I messed up the opening riff - bugger!) although it goes well enough overall. By 'Expensive Being Poor' things are really hotting up and the audience are really on our side - before 'Lion and The Lamb' begins T.V. introduces Pascal Briggs who joins us for the rest of our set, they've worked together out in Germany although I met him for the first time as I shook hands with him on the stage. His arrival pushes us on to even greater heights and 'Gary Gilmore's Eyes' even gets a bit of pogoing, a strange sight at an acoustic show. We finish with 'One Chord Wonders' to audience pandemonium and decidedly non-punky onstage hugs. There's no time for an encore but it didn't matter - we'd been great. Great. Sorry if that sounds big headed but you know when you do a good gig and this wasn't a good gig, it was a great gig. There, I've said it again. I'll stop now. There, I've stopped.

Out on the merchandise stall I shake what seems like the entire audience's hands and T.V. signs CD's and poses for fan photos with Gaye Advert. I grab a few words with John Robb who's on the neighbouring stall before getting asked by several people if The Price will ever play at the festival - I reply as best I can along the lines of 'maybe one day...' I'm talking to Tom from The Phobics as the band in The Bizarre Bazaar are playing 'Louie Louie' it's only when they play 'Love Lies Limp' that it dawns on me that it's A.T.V. so go in for a listen, and very good they are too.

Meanwhile I realise I've left my glasses back at my hotel room and while it's tempting to continue posing in my (prescription) sunglasses it would also be nice to see where I'm going so while it's still light I decide to walk back to get them and to drop my guitar off while I'm there. I'm away for about an hour which give me a chance to clear my head a bit as well as catching up on phone calls and getting something to eat. Well the phone calls went well but the seemingly endless chip shops and takeaways are all closed or closing and there's a huge queue at the afore-mentioned Harry Ramsden's so I go back to The Empress Grill in the venue for the inevitable chips. While I'm there Malcolm from The Price calls, he's at a pub quiz and can't remember the name of the character that Barry Humphries plays that isn't Dame Enda Everage and wonders if I know the name - to my surprise I do! I tell him off for cheating (!) then say something like 'actually I was just talking about you...' before telling him where I am - he's very enthusiastic about a possible gig for us so I decide that I'll see what I can find out a bit later on.

In the meantime there are bands to see - The Lurkers roar through 'I Don't Need To Tell Her' in The Arena, Slaughter And The Dogs are blasting out 'Boston Babies' in The Ballroom and The Beat are skanking their way through 'Twist And Crawl' in The Olympia. I decide to spend most of my time in The Ballroom as I'd not seen Slaughter And The Dogs before, they're very good with their final encore of 'Cranked Up Really High' reminding me what a great song it is even if the singalong end section got a bit to 'showbiz' for my liking.

Out in the bar I bump into Steve Drewett from The Newtown Neurotics who's bemoaning the fact that they've run out of lager; as we're talking I get a call from Leeson who's in the backstage bar (what backstage bar?!?) at The Olympia and Jello Biafra's on soon - meanwhile there are more hands to shake and more Price enquiries, not least from Peter who used to write 'Murder By Fanzine' all those years ago, and a tall Geordie chap called Malcolm - maybe we could get a gig here?

With the lager deficit getting more acute by the second I go back into The Ballroom in search of a drink where The Adicts are doing their stuff - I was never their biggest fan but what they do they do very well. Captain Sensible is on soon in The Bizarre Bazaar but the main event for me is in The Olympia where Jello Biafra And The Guantanamo School Of Medicine delivered a show which was a good as any gig I've ever seen. Biafra has been always one of the great punk orators and his performance here showed that he's showing no sign of mellowing with age. The band were astonishing, he was incredible and by the final encore of 'Holiday In Cambodia' it was obvious that I'd just seen one on the greatest gigs I'll ever be lucky enough to witness. Yes, it was that good. In fact it was better than that. Inspirational stuff.

When I meet up with T.V. and Gaye back at The Bizarre Bazaar Captain Sensible is playing 'Do Anything You Wanna Do' - Paul Gray is on bass, Dave Berk is on drums and Monty from The Damned is on keyboards and it's a great way to end proceedings. The encores of 'Wot' and 'Happy Talk' bring a smile to everybody's faces, T.V. and Gaye are surrounded by well-wishers and I finally get to have a few words with Pascal. 'If we never do anything together again then we did that' he says proudly. Good man.

There's an after show party up in The Spanish Bar where I'm introduced to Jennie who's one of the festival organisers - I brave asking 'the Price question' and to my amazement she seems to be interested in us playing. We agree to e-mail each other to see what can be done. Well - maybe, just maybe...

Incidentally I didn't miss breakfast. But it was close.

'I love that dirty water...'

Me and my big mouth- as soon as I say that I'm doing two gigs with T.V. Smith the second one of them gets cancelled. Bugger! What's that saying about counting chickens? Still it was a great gig last night at The Dirty Water Club at The Boston Arms in Tufnell Park where we supported the excellent Goldblade (T.V. has been with them for most of their current British tour; he invited me to join him for the London and Brighton gigs but the latter now features the magnificently named Anal Beard rather than ourselves) with Johnny Casino and The Secrets opening the evening. The Boston Arms is a great venue (The Price played there which shows how long it's been going!) and The Dirty Water Club puts on some fine music, and is something of a labour of love for the organisers and as such seems to me to be well worth supporting. (Rather a spurious justification for buying a venue t-shirt don't you think?!?)

When myself and Big Andy arrived Goldblade were about to do their soundcheck; T.V. arrived just as it began, and commented that John Robb put as much energy into the soundcheck as a lot of people do during a gig. True- he certainly doesn't pull any punches... then it's our turn. As I'm playing a few chords for the soundman I realise that I'm actually feeling quite nervous, we play a verse or two of 'Good Times Are Back' and I almost don't feel as though I know it even though I was playing along with a recording of it only a few hours earlier. As we leave the stage to make way for Johnny Casino and The Secrets T.V. says something like 'a couple of odd chords in there- was it me?' Yes that comment was very diplomatic and no, it was definitely me... I mumble something about feeling more nervous before soundchecks than gigs as Johnny and co. warm up in the background.

We're due on at 10 o'clock and by 9 the place is filling up nicely- good to see Max Splodge along with punk promotess Sarah Pink as well as the legend that is Gaye Advert (soon to have an art exhibition in London- details on her MySpace page here) among the familiar faces. J.C. and the band are on at 9.30, they play great trashy rock and roll and go down well- afterwards I say to Johnny how good I thought his guitar sounded and he replied ' a 345 straight into an AC30, you can't go wrong with that.' He just might be right!

Just after 10.20 it's our turn, and as we kick off with 'No Time To Be 21' I'm still not feeling right 'though I've no idea why; as we get to the first chorus people are moving towards the stage, singing along and nodding approval (thank God!) as they do so. The song ends to tumultuous applause and suddenly, instantly, I feel better. Weird! From then on it's 40-odd minutes of acoustic mayhem with T.V. on top form and the audience response getting better and better. After we play three Adverts songs ('Gary Gilmore's Eyes', 'Bored Teenagers' and 'One Chord Wonders' in case you were wondering) a guy comes up to the stage, he looks a bit out of it and is shouting something at us but we've already started 'Good Times Are Back' and can't hear him. (T.V. was accosted by him later- apparently the gist of his message to us was 'when are you going to reform The Adverts?' Hmm- he might have rather a long wait on that one!) We finish with 'Runaway Train Driver' and the place goes mad. Remind me why I was so nervous again?

No sign of nerves from Goldblade who delivered a thunderous performance with John Robb as deranged a frontman as you will ever see and the band (with only one guitarist rather than the usual two) and audience with him every step of the way. Halfway through their set I go over to see T.V. on the merchandise stall where he's doing a roaring trade; I get my hand shaken by all and sundry and am told it was a great gig by virtually everyone. I really must try to cheer up before shows!

As we're leaving I grab a few words with John Robb- I tell him how I was the rehearsal guitarist for the Ruts/Henry Rollins gig two years ago (he was the compare for the show) and we speak of what a fabulous night it was. As we're talking about it a couple of chaps come over, I recognise them but can't place them- it turns out that they were friends of Paul Fox and that they saw me playing with Foxy's Ruts at The Crown And Treaty in Uxbridge a couple of weeks before the Ruts 'n' Rollins show, and that they're organising a tribute night for Paul (the 24th of this month at The Breakspear Arms in Ruislip in case you're interested) and would like me to come along. I say something about not being 'in with the in crowd' (I stopped any involvement with Foxy's Ruts when they decided that they wanted to continue using the same name after Paul had died; I might have lost a friend or two in the process but I think I made the right decision) but they tell me that I'm in with the in crowd as far as they're concerned and they'd like me to be there. It might not seem like much written down here but it's a subject that's caused me a lot of upset over the last couple of years so it's good to be invited along. I might even go!

It's been a funny couple of months, what with losing the work at the shop, not too many gigs about, money too tight to mention, insecurity replacing what little confidence I have- but nights like last night make it all seem worthwhile As he was leaving T.V. shook my hand and said that he hoped we'll do many more shows together. Perhaps the good times are back, as someone once sang...

And our Adverts trilogy is on YouTube- click here for acoustic punk rock nirvana! Hurrah!