Clash city rockers

'Wild punk rockers smash up theatre'
- now that's a headline!

Now here's a sight that's absolutely guaranteed to have sad men like me blubbing like a girly in seconds - yes it's three electric guitars, but not any old three electric guitars. Oh no. On the left a 1959 Les Paul Junior owned by Mick Jones, in the middle Joe Strummer's iconic 'Ignore Alien Orders' Telecaster (click here for the story of the instrument) and on the right Paul Simonon's Fender bass, all of which are currently to be found in The Clash pop-up shop at 75 Berwick Street. The exhibition marks the release on the 'Sound System' box set which contains pretty much everything that the band released during it's lifetime as well as outtakes, unreleased songs and video material; also on display are record covers, handwritten setlists, the famous 'London Calling' smashed bass (I would have taken a picture but I couldn't get near it!) and lots more besides. It's only there until next Sunday and it's well worth a visit. Mind you, I would say that wouldn't I? And I wonder what happened to Topper Headon's drumkit? 

Well it's Sunday evening and I'm already home from gigging - this has been happening a fair bit lately but I'm still not used to it! But it was a cracking gig this, er, afternoon at The Horns in Watford where I was depping in The Good Old Boys. With Hud away elsewhere Chris Hunt stepped in on drums - I played a few shows with him many years ago with Dave Finnegan's Commitments, and although I've send him play occasionally since then I'd all but forgotten what an incredibly powerful drummer he is. Teaming him with bass hero Nick Simper made for an absolutely extraordinary rhythm section, and with band stalwarts Alan Barratt on vocals and Pete Parks on guitar on top form throughout it was a thoroughly enjoyable show to be part of. It's good when that happens - and it was a good show on Saturday night too when Big Al Reed and the Blistering Buicks made a return visit to The Admiral Nelson in Twickenham. My good friend Pete has been depping for the band while I've been away with Ruts D.C. - he joined us for a few numbers at this show and sounded as though he'd really got hold of the material, as indeed did the rest of the band which is going from strength to strength. There are plenty of gigs coming in too - I wonder how many I'll play and how many I'll be asking Pete to do?
The answer to that question depends largely on what happens next with Ruts D.C. - and on the evidence of Friday's show at Sub89 in Reading that could well turn out to be a fascinating question. First things first though - what an absolutely superb venue Sub 89 is, with a good sized stage, great sound system and very helpful staff. Everything ran smoothly from the word go, the band played a hour-and-a-bit long set to an increasingly appreciative audience, and talking to people afterwards everyone seemed to think that we'd given a great show. And without wishing to sound too big headed - we had! You know when you play a good one, and this was definitely a good one  - our driver Marc hadn't seen us for a few months and told me that he was amazed at how the band had progressed in the interim period. We're off to Germany for 4 shows this week then up to Scotland next weekend before we start looking forward to the Damned tour in November and December, and with things already being planned for next year the future for the band is looking very interesting indeed. Well, let's hope so anyway.

In the meantime I'm off to bed - it's bloomin' tiring this gigging lark you know, even when you are home early...

Stop press! On Monday the always-worth-a-read Retro Man blog published a review of our Reading show which you can find here - and as I say, the rest of the blog is well worth checking out too.

Distant relatives

I have just - just! - returned from playing four shows with Ruts D.C. :-

Not a bad evening's
entertainment!

After a suitably long 'it's-Friday-afternoon-traffic' journey with new face Mark behind the steering wheel we arrived at The Brudenell Rooms in Leeds around 5pm. We're on with T.V. Smith (who I hadn't seen since our duo gig at The 12 Bar Club before Christmas - we're playing our first show of this year at The New Cross Inn this coming Saturday - and who has been on tour in Europe with The U.K. Subs for the last few weeks) and Louise Distras (who was also on The 12 Bar Club show and who has also been on tour in Europe) so there's a fine evening in prospect. We're set up and soundchecked in good time - I'm putting my guitar away and talking to T.V. and Louise when I sneeze, sneeze again, then look down to see blood at my feet. Time for a nosebleed then... Louise helpfully fetches a handful of tissues and I spend T.V.'s soundcheck sitting on the stage trying to stop the blood flow. Dramatic eh? Actually it was pretty horrible, at one point literally streaming out. Urgh! Meanwhile the rest of the band went to check in at our hotel while the nosebleed eventually stopped and I watch Louise's soundcheck before setting up our merchandise stall. Chris the promoter opened the doors at 7 o'clock and people began arriving straight away - T.V. Smith mega-fan T.J. says hello and fellow Wilko Johnson obsessive Alan turns up with his two sons and presents me with a DVD of Wilko in Japan in 1992 and a 1995 tour programme (top man!) while the wonderfully-named Paul Newman asks me if The Price will be playing anywhere this year. I wonder if we will?
Just before 8 o'clock I bump into Louise who says 'I hope I don't break any strings' as she's making her way towards the stage; she doesn't but she does play an excellent set as does T.V. Smith. Then again, he usually does. By the time we went on the place was all but sold out, there's people dancing from the off and the show goes brilliantly. After encoring with 'In A Rut' and 'H-Eyes' we return to the dressing room but the audience is still going crazy and we somehow find ourselves back on stage - but we've played everything that we know, so what shall we do?
We'd had a rehearsal on Thursday evening during which we tightened up a few songs and began looking at other material that could possibly find it's way into the show. One of the songs that we tried was 'Generations' a song Segs recorded with Joe Strummer and Rat Scabies under the somewhat unlikely name of Electric Doghouse. We all agreed that it was definitely one to bear in mind for the future - unbeknownst to us the future was only one day away... it could be argued that in these days of YouTube it's not a good idea to play a song that you don't know, but we did it anyway! How did it sound? Like this...
After the show Mark and myself do a roaring trade on the merchandise stall and Dave and Segs signed old albums and singles, not-quite-so-old CDs, posed for photographs and made a lot of people very happy. I was even asked to do a couple of photos myself!
My first sight of Bewley's Hotel (I didn't go there earlier, remember?) included a couple of likely lads with their trousers around their ankles outside the main entrance. Friday night in Leeds then... Seamus and myself decide that we want to see what's going on so get a couple of drinks amid sights and sounds of great drunkenness and jollity from stag parties, hen parties and parties generally. A couple of chairs away from us a chap slides off his seat onto the floor a bit like a cartoon character might, he's out cold and his friends can't wake him up - suddenly the atmosphere changes and the hotel staff summon two paramedics and a voice over the tannoy asks us all to move out from the bar into the entrance hall. A few minutes later two of his friends are helping the now-just about-upright man towards the lift - 'we've never had a night like this!' says the barman cheerily as we hand him our glasses and chaos resumes all around us. Later we take the lift to the 4th floor where we're sharing room 441 - as the doors open there's a large upturned plant pot in front of us with flowers and soil everywhere. Why do people do things like that?

The next day begins in a leisurely manner that's very welcome after the previous day and evening. After breakfast we check out at midday and by 2 o'clock we're arriving at The Sporting Lodge Hotel in Middlesbrough. After checking in (Seamus and myself get room 122) it's time for some food - I get an excellent arrabiatta pasta which I just about finish before my nose starts bleeding again. Urgh!
It's only a short drive to The Georgian Theatre in Stockton-on-Tees and we're loading our gear in not long after 5 o'clock. Steve the promoter has got a couple of lads to help us carry our equipment (hurrah!) and we've got Green Dragon Studios to use as a dressing room. Soundcheck is a bit more involved than on the previous evening with the drum sound posing a few problems for our soundman Nick but he eventually gets everything sounding great. 
Support comes from The Clashed who I met last summer when The Flying Squad played with them; they've still got Joe and Mick the wrong way around (as you can see here) and they still do a good job of recreating the sound and the fury of The Clash, which is much appreciated by the rapidly-arriving crowd. The show has sold out in advance which usually bodes well for things but in this case it felt as though it all took a while to get going - we start with three reggae-based songs which I don't think was quite what the audience was expecting. There was a chap standing right at the very front wearing a white Ruts logo t-shirt who didn't look too happy until our fourth song 'Backbiter' when he suddenly bursts into life, as did many of the people around him. It was definitely harder work than the previously evening although as you can see if you watch the show here it all came good in the end. 
As I'm putting my guitar away a chap comes over, he's says that he really enjoyed the show but wondered if he seen me supporting The Ruts in Middlesbrough back in the day, wearing glasses and playing rock 'n' roll songs. He looks disappointed when I tell him that it wasn't me but was a chap called Auntie Pus (who incidentally has just written this blog piece on last week's Bristol show. Thanks Julian!)

I always wanted to be
 a tourist attraction!

It's a 5-ish hour drive to the next show so we set out at 11 o'clock on Sunday morning. 'Snow capped peaks to our right' says Dave as we pass through some spectacular scenery on our way to Dundee. We stop at a motorway service station where we see a poster for the gig in the tourist information display - excellent!
We arrived at The Reading Rooms just after 5pm. (Again! It's always 5pm!) Promoter Jim is a massive fan of the band and was present at a legendary Dundee gig back in 1979 when Segs and Malcolm let him and his friends in through a back window. There are only a few tickets left and he's hopeful that the gig will be a sellout which makes the already good mood in the band even better. The P.A. is superb and the sound is absolutely excellent - Dave and myself jam on 'Lust For Life' for no other reason than 'we just started playing it'.
I'm behind the merchandise table again as Jock Hart arrives, he's a big fan of the band (as you can tell from this review that he wrote of the evening) and it's good to see him again. Business is brisk and I sadly spend much of the support set by The Spitfires presiding over a merchandising frenzy although I managed to see their last few songs including a version of 'Career Opportunities' and I thought that they sounded great. A difficult band to follow, but follow them we do with a storming performance, one of the best that we have yet played. Afterwards we sell umpteen CDs, run out of Ruts logo t-shirts and meet people who say that it was the best show that they've ever seen by anybody ever. A successful evening's work.

It was another early start yesterday as our last show of what Dave called our 'tourette' was at Eric's in Liverpool. I thought breakfast finished at 10.30 but it actually stopped half an hour earlier meaning that I ate a bowl of muesli standing up looking out over The River Tay as clearing up went on all around me. 
I spent a fair amount of the journey to Liverpool drifting in and out of consciousness - the last few days were catching up with me! We stopped at Lockerbie Service Station for food and fuel (Nick pronounced his burger as 'a mistake') and found our way to Liverpool in good time (can you guess what time we arrived?!?) with Mark reversing into Mathew Street from North John Street with great aplomb. It's a long load-in as we have to walk our equipment past The Cavern and down a seriously steep flight of stairs into the club. As we're setting up I say hello support band Biteback's guitarist Richie who also plays in The Crows, he says how much he's looking forward to the evening and I tell him he's not the only one...
After soundchecking I went upstairs to call my cousin Steve (my phone wouldn't work in the club) who lives over the water in Birkenhead and who is coming to see us play. Or is he? He's got no money, not even enough for the train fare to Liverpool but he's waiting for his next door neighbour to come in as he's going to lend him the cash. When I ask him how much he needs his answer of £6 seems barely believable. I think about how often we all squander money (well, I certainly do!) but if you've got nothing then even a small sum of money seems like a fortune. I tell him I'll call him back in a while to see how he's getting on - in the meantime we walk through the city to The Holiday Inn opposite Lime Street Station. We're checking in as Molara meets a couple of friends who are coming along to the show. Hmm... he looks familiar... she introduces me to 'Jamie' and I realise that it's Jamie Reid - I mumble something about how much I like his work to which he smiles and says that he's really looking forward to seeing the show. Excellent.
As I walk back towards Eric's I call Steve - it's not going well, his mate still hasn't arrived and time is getting on, I tell him to get a cab over to the top of Mathew Street where I'll meet him and pay for it and his return fare home but he gets upset saying that he doesn't want charity, I tell him that it's not charity it's family and that he can pay me back sometime if he wants to and then I'm getting upset too... by now I've walked past the turning to the venue and along Duke Street towards the Ferry landing stage and I'm looking out across The River Mersey and can see the lights of Birkenhead over the water, he's only over there but he might as well be on another planet, neither of us knows what to do but he says he'll call me back if his mate turns up. I stand on the landing stage looking across the river - me and my brother Terry grew up with Steve and his late brother Gary, they were more like our older brothers than our cousins and as I stand there I can remember a thousand things that we've done together. I feel helpless; I also feel very alone. Bugger. I walk back up the hill, past The Liverpool pub near James Street Station where Steve's train would come in, past a bus queue, back up Duke Street, feeling like I didn't know anything anymore... then as I turn into North John Street my phone suddenly rings - it's Steve's girlfriend Lizzie who says that his mate's come home and lent him some money and he's getting ready to come out to the gig and will be with me in a half hour or so. Amazing! Steve comes on the phone sounding like he's won the lottery and saying that everything's ok and he'll see me soon. Thank God for that... by the time I get to the club I'm in a much better frame of mind, as I'm about to go downstairs a chap asks me what time the band are on, as I tell him 9.30 he spots my Bored Teenager badge that T.V. Smith gave me on Friday night and we're all smiles as we both agree how great his latest album is. What a difference a few minutes can make eh? As I turn towards the club I see Phil from Louder Than War who apparently was standing there all the time. I really did have other things on my mind didn't I?
8.30 and Biteback take to the stage. It's their first show as a four piece, the young lady on rhythm guitar looks a bit reticent at first but things soon get going. They play 'English Civil War' (it was definitely a weekend for Clash cover versions!) which fits in well among their own material and they go down better and better as their show progresses. Then I spot a familiar figure in the doorway - it's Steve. I don't remember the last time that I was so pleased to see someone.

'And I... wanna be...
anarchy...'

9.30 and we're on - the place isn't full but there's definitely enough people in to make it work (the show was slotted in at the last minute and as Ethan at the club put it, 'it's a Monday night and the day after St. Patrick's Day') but what they lack in numbers they more than made up for in enthusiasm. The show is a bit looser than the others with lots of storytelling from Segs and Dave coming out to the front of the stage to thank everyone for coming and to introduce the band. Overall it's a great show to end this run of gigs with, and in the dressing room Steve tells me that he really enjoyed it which means everything to me. Then Jamie Reid came over and asked me if I'd like him to sign my guitar - I'd half-jokingly said it to Molara earlier and she'd arranged it with him, meaning that I might well have the only Jamie Reid signature model Les Paul in existence. Strange but true. Then it's time for Steve to catch his train home, we blather at each other like kids, share a hug and then he's gone. I'm so glad that he made it along.
With everything packed away it's time to go back to the hotel - or is it? Phil asks me if I fancy a drink so we adjourn to The Grapes for an hour or so. As a young man plays guitar and sings over backing tracks in the other bar and Beatle - hunting tourists take endless photos of the walls he asks about the last few days - I say that I must have shaken 100 hands and heard the words 'I've waited over 30 years for this night' almost as many times. You don't know how lucky you are sometimes do you?

This morning I was in the hotel shower, thinking about how great the shows and the last few days had been, what the music means to me and to the audience, the mixture of emotions that the previous night had bought out in me - as I rinsed the soap off my face I opened my eyes to see blood on my hands. Another nosebleed. Back to the real world. You don't get something for nothing do you?  

Carry that weight

When I was a lad - and believe it or not, I was once a lad - pop music was a lot more exciting than it is now. I sound really old don't I? Well - I am! But I genuinely think that it was - in my early teens the likes of T.Rex, Slade and The Sweet were topping the charts on a regular basis, and leaving aside the fact that I have absolutely no idea who is at number one as I type this (there's nothing like shouting your mouth off without knowing the facts now is there?) I very much doubt that it would sound anywhere near as exciting as any of these three tracks, all of which made it to the top of the pile. But here's a record (I still call them records, don't you?) that definitely deserves to be this year's Christmas number one - released this coming Monday 17th December 'He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother' by The Justice Collective aims to raise money for The Hillsborough Justice Campaign which does stirling work for the victims of The Hillsborough Disaster. I'll spare you my usual ranting on the subject and just say that if that isn't a worthwhile cause then I for one don't know what is. Here's the story courtesy of The Liverpool Echo (which my Dad used to deliver when he was a lad, as he never tires of reminding me!) where you'll also find the promo video and links for downloading the single from iTunes and Amazon. The recording features the likes of Mick Jones and Shane MacGowan alongside Liverpool artists like Paul McCartney, Gerry Marsden and Melanie C.; at the very least it's a great song (here is the classic version by The Hollies just in case you've forgotten it) and let's face it, it's got to be better than the X Factor winner getting the Christmas number one spot hasn't it?

'And oh I don't know why...'

No gigs for your humble narrator this week, which is not a good situation for someone who's attempting to make a living out of playing the guitar. Bah! I can't remember a December that was this quiet... anyway here are a few YouTube clips that I've seen lately - after all, who wants to play the guitar when you can watch other people doing it? (Well, actually, I do... which reminds me, The Uppercut play an 'it's-nearly-Christmas' gig at The Load of Hay this coming Sunday - if you're in the area why not come along?)

When I was a lad there was a band called The Clash. They were very good. Very good indeed. In fact I've been known to say that one of the best things about being old is that you were able to see The Clash play. (On bad days I've been known to say that one of the ONLY good things about being old is that you were able to see The Clash, but that's another story...) Some amazing film of the band at The New York Palladium in 1979 has recently surfaced - originally silent, it has been painstakingly synced up with a bootleg audio recording of the show, the full story of which can be found on The Clash Blog along with the footage which is also on YouTube here. It's a famous show in the history of the band as it's the night that Paul Simonon smashed up his bass guitar, as immortalised on the cover of their 'London Calling' album. While it's not the greatest quality it captures the fearsome power of the band at their brilliant best, and I for one wish there was more of it, not least for the rare sight of Mick Jones playing 'English Civil War' on acoustic rather than electric guitar.

(Incidentally if you've never seen the electric version then here is - I told you they were very good...)

If you've ever been mad enough to attempt to learn to play a musical instrument then you'll know that it can be a very rewarding experience; you'll also know that it can be extremely frustrating, not least when you know what you're supposed to be playing but can't quite manage to get the sound out of the instrument. My good friend and Awaken guitarist Pete sent me a link for a clip of 'The Angriest Guitarist in the World' - it seems as though he's known as The Treeman and has been getting quite a lot of attention on YouTube. I of course have never heard of him before and therefore can heartily recommend this clip of the man himself in action - the moment at 2 min 18 sec where an edit cuts to our man holding an acoustic guitar that's being held together with what looks like masking tape is well worth savouring. There's a second clip here, and various other links to actual songs (as opposed to violent sweary rants) including the one that he's attempting to get right in the first clip can also be found - I'm not sure that it's not all a little bit contrived here and there, but it's certainly very entertaining.

I found this extraordinary clip of an English language class at The Sullivan School Kindergarten in South Korea on the ever-excellent Monkey Picks blog; I wish this sort have thing had gone on at our school, although of course when I was their age The Ramones were still several years in the future. I guess we could have had a teacher with an electric guitar leading us all in Beatles songs? Anyway it's a brilliant clip, especially the bit where the kids at the front can't wait to sing 'third verse, different from the first' and get back to the pogoing... and here are Da Brudders themselves playing the same song 'Judy Is A Punk' on The Don Kirshner's Rock Concert TV show in 1977. Analysis is futile my friends, other than to say something along the lines of 'that's rock 'n' roll'...

Band of brothers

And the madness continues - we've now had over 15 thousand YouTube hits, and have peaked (so far!) at number 20 in the iTunes country music charts. Amazing, not least because it means that your humble narrator can say that he's played on a top 20 single. Look, there we are above Shania Twain and Taylor Swift; in fact we're the filling in a Taylor Swift sandwich. Now there's a thought... there's going to be a piece about us in the local paper this week, and Thursday morning saw unashamed posing from the entire Balcony Shirts crew when a photographer from said journal came to the shop. His appearance coincided with a visit from Dave the John Hornby Skewes rep who found the whole thing highly amusing - maybe he doesn't visit too many shops who design custom clothing whilst participating in a photo session?

It was a splendid evening on Friday when Tropic At Ruislip hosted a double bill of The Pistols and The Clashed. It was a much punkier bill than the usual Tropic fare, and a successful one with the best part of 200 people attending. Although I've depped in The Pistols I'd never actually seen them play, and they do a fine job in recreating the filth and the fury of Johnny and the boys. Singer Paul distinguished himself by wearing a tweed suit (cue butter gags!) and Colin the guitarist wielded a Steve Jones signature model Les Paul to great effect. Tim and Toby gave the bass and drums their all and although I could personally have done without the 'Great Rock 'n' Swindle' material (they missed out 'Did You No Wrong' but they played 'No One Is Innocent' - bah!) the 'NMTB' material sounded as mighty as ever. The Clashed were enjoyable enough although they were somewhat hampered (visually at least) by having a Mick and Joe mix up i.e. the rhythm guitarist sang like Jones and the lead guitarist sang like Strummer. They also had a bass player who looked about 12 although I think he was a stand-in. Sound wise they were authentic enough to get more than a few audience members bellowing along, and I'm sure I wasn't the only person there who felt the hairs on the back of their neck stand up as '(White Man) In Hammersmith Palais' began. And let's face it, any band who does 'Straight To Hell' as an encore can't be all bad can they? I'd probably have enjoyed them more if I hadn't developed hiccups a few songs into their set, a situation which sadly continued for much of the evening and gave me spurious justification for drinking far too much lager; it didn't stop the hiccups and it cost me a fortune!

And it was a good gig last night too - the (ahem) debut 'proper' (as opposed to 'impromptu-get-together-at-a-charity-night') performance of The Rikardo Brothers at The Load of Hay. Following on from our rehearsal on Tuesday Alan (vocals) had put together 2 sets, both of which he largely ignored all evening putting myself and Pete (guitar) on the spot with a few 'do you fancy a go at this one?' moments. Then again nobody in the audience seemed too concerned and overall it was a good first show although we all agreed that in a weird sort of way it's easier to play a unrehearsed gig like we did last time than it is to present a 'serious' show. Maybe there's less pressure if it's all spontaneous? Well, there's a question that could be profitably pondered... maybe I'll ponder it further one day...

Eric Clapton spelt my name wrong!

My brother has been working at Shepperton Studios, which as you may know was once owned by The Who and features several sound stages where successful (i.e. those that can afford it) bands rehearse for upcoming gigs and tours. Terry held the door open for a young up and coming Surrey guitarist from one such band the other day; he (maybe that should be He?) was kind enough to sign an old call sheet which Terry had handy. I'm going to the Royal Albert Hall next month to see said guitarist - I'm sure it'll be a good night, I believe he's played there quite a few times before...

Talking of good nights, this Friday sees an event that's well worth supporting, a club night at the somewhat unlikely venue of The Gardeners Arms in Uxbridge - as the poster says, ACE! promises '60's soul ska and beat which is more than enough to tempt your humble narrator through the door. I remember D.J.'s Simon and Darren when they were lads back in the '90's, they've just started the excellent What's On In Uxbridge website which means that at last there is somewhere for bands and venues to tell people that there's something happening locally. Let's hope both the club and the website are successful for them.

Meanwhile the latest Balcony Shirts song has been unleashed onto You Tube - Chris and Scott are both lifelong fans of Queens Park Rangers, and from early on this season decided that if Rangers were promoted to the Premier League they would write a song that included the name of every member of the current first team squad. They've done a fine job, as you can discover if you click here - I'm on lead guitar, which Scott invited me to contribute with the words 'play like Neil Young'. I'm not sure I managed it, although he has since compared my contribution to 'Motorcycle Emptiness' by The Manic Street Preachers. This is high praise in my world (I wouldn't have been telling you that he'd said it if it wasn't!) and I'm not sure that I managed that either, but see what you think. There are also some suitably euphoric t-shirts available that come with a free CD of the song, and the song itself is now available on iTunes. Pretty cool huh?
Chris went to the last game of the season where he met fellow season ticket holder Mick Jones; apparently they play 'London Calling' when he takes his seat at home games. Excellent! Hmm... I wonder if I can get them to play a Price single next time I'm at a Liverpool game?!?

Still Ill / Getting Better

I woke up Saturday morning to the rather grim realisation that things weren't getting any better - leaving aside the coughing, spluttering, sneezing and headache (did I mention that I've got ManFlu?) I found that my eyelids were all but glued together with what might best and indeed most politely be described as 'gunge'. Not good frankly. 'You've got an infection' said the long-suffering Shirley, with the look of someone who knows that what they've just said is entirely accurate. At least she didn't say 'I told you so'...

Actually she did, but I'm not going to tell you that here!

With a day in Balcony Shirts followed by a gig in the evening in prospect it was off to the chemist to spend some money - rather a lot of money I thought but the way the pharmacist spoke made me think that buying things like eye drops was a pretty good idea, in the same way as the manner in which he said the words 'Go to see your doctor on Monday' made me think that I should indeed go to see my doctor on Monday... a blearily busy Balcony day followed (Scott was if anything even worse for wear than your humble narrator, although his condition was more down to over-indulgence than anything else, the lucky sod!) 'though I didn't feel particularly worse by the end of it - that said the fact that I fell asleep almost as soon as I got through the front door is pretty significant if you think about it.

The evening's gig was in uncharted territory in more ways that one; a new venue - The Ox in South Oxhey - for a new line-up of Youngblood. With Mick the drummer falling by the wayside myself and Terry the bass have installed Roger Brewer (our old partner-in-crime from our days in The Informers) on drums. Terry the singer took the opportunity to suggest we get a new name, and came up with The 4 Faces which we used for this show - not sure what we'll end up with but that one did for this one, and a raucous evening it was, with men taking their t-shirts off to dance and women demanding request after request from the ever genial Terry meaning that we attempted 'Get It On', 'Bad Moon Rising' and 'Whatcha Gonna Do About It?' with varying degrees of success. We ignored all the other ones! In the meantime Terry the bass bemoaned the changing colour of crisp packets, I remained disappointed that the venue hadn't turned out to be a John Entwistle theme bar and we all agreed that we should have some good times to look forward to, whatever we end up being called.

Things hadn't improved on Sunday but at least they hadn't got any worse - that said I spent much of the day half-asleep and the rest actually asleep. Well, that's what it felt like anyway... after a possibly ill-advised amount of medicine(s) and carrying as many boxes of tissues as I could it was off to Tropic Of Ruislip for a Flying Squad gig with the excellent Chicken Legs Weaver. As we arrived Big Tel and Dave were just getting the P.A. set up, George the promoter was moving tables and chairs into position and all was set for good evening. We soundchecked with a thunderous 'Ridin' on the L&N' and it all sounded good to me - then again I probably wasn't the best judge of things! After CLW's soundcheck a problem developed - our drummer Dave had hoped to record the show on his laptop directly from Big Tel's P.A. system but it wouldn't work; Tel came up to me with the words 'I think I've upset Dave' just as Andy came over to say that Dave had gone home in a state of some distress. 'He's coming back 'though' said Andy not looking totally convinced... he did come back, arriving sometime during CLW's fine set. He went down well as did we - there could have been more people there but the ones that were there certainly seemed to have a good evening. From my point of view it was... ok. I was flagging by halfway through our show and, without wishing to sound too melodramatic (for once!) by the end of our set I'm not sure I physically could have played much more. And I don't think I played particularly well 'though I suppose there's an excuse if I want to use it? Then again my old mate Andy Stubbs (who booked The Price many times during his reign of terror booking bands at Brunel University and is now Uxbridge Town Centre Manager) came up to me afterwards and told me that I sounded like 'a cross between Joe Strummer and Mick Jones' so I guess I can't have been that bad as that might well be the best guitar-related compliment that I've ever received, from my point of view at least.

Monday morning and it's time to visit the doctor. I told him my symptoms then recounted the pharmacist's thoughts - he said something like 'oh well, they're supposed to say things like that' then rather reluctantly examined me, first with a stethoscope... 'there's nothing wrong with your chest' he said as he pushed his thumb against my left eyebrow. 'Maybe not, but when you did that it felt like you'd just tried to pull my face off'. He remained unmoved - 'you might have a touch of something like sinusitis I suppose' he said as he wrote out the inevitable prescription for the inevitable anti-biotics. I think I was in the surgery for around 2 minutes and didn't feel as though I'd been taken particularly seriously; on the other hand Shirley observed that, judging by the strength of the anti-biotics that he'd prescribed, he'd probably just not wanted to worry me. Who knows?

Still one way or another it was time to feel better, and to feel better as soon as possible, as it's that time again... mad as it may seem (particularly to the band members!) this year marks the 25th anniversary of the formation of The Price. With this in mind we're playing as often as we can this year (have a look on our website for details of the first shows) as well as hopefully doing some recording and (gulp!) writing some new material. With this in mind it was time for a return to Ruff Rockers Rehearsal Studios for an epic 6 hour session during which we ran through over 30 of our own songs (did we really write that many?!?) along with a few willfully obscure cover versions, and during which I drink 2 bottles of Lucozade, took probably too many painkillers and got through the whole session without keeling over; that said I ran out of steam when I got home and was asleep within 30 minutes of getting through the front door. Rock'n'Roll eh?

And I've had yesterday and today off sick, during which I've taken my tablets like a good boy and attempted to do as little as possible - but I did watch 'It Might Get Loud' again, and damn good it was too. Mind you I only recognised about half of it- I must have been more out-of-consciousness than in it first time around! Still at last I do believe I'm starting to feel a bit better. Good!

'Down in the city, just Hoople and me...'

I remember seeing Mott The Hoople on Top Of The Pops in their mid-'70's heyday- I liked the music and I always thought that they looked... cocky if you know what I mean. I thought they were great. And I remember looking at the cover of their album 'The Hoople' for ages one day in a shop in Uxbridge trying to decide whether or not I could afford to buy it or not, after all I liked the singles but didn't know all the other tracks on it and what if it's terrible and I don't like it, 'though I liked the cover but you can't buy an album just because it looks nice can you? After all they're expensive compared to singles, and anyway there's a new T.Rex album out and if I'm going to buy anything it should really be that one shouldn't it? Oh I don't know- if only I could get them both, and all the other albums that I've been looking at today...

Nothing's changed- I still spend ages in record shops (when I can find them!) wondering what I can afford to buy. Isn't there a saying, something like 'show me the boy and I'll show you the man'?

They'd finished long before I'd started going to gigs so I didn't get chance to see them although when I was in The Flame we supported Ian Hunter one memorable night in the mid-'90's; they've just reformed for 5 shows at The Hammersmith Apollo (it's the Hammersmith Odeon!) where I saw them play last night, and very good they were too. In the entrance hall before the show familiar faces were everywhere- Bobby Gillespie, Paul Simonon, legendary Mott fan Mick Jones, all testament to the band's influence on subsequent rock musicians, and the air was heavy with anticipation. Original drummer Dale Griffin was reportedly too ill to play (although he came out for the encores,) but with Martin Chambers behind the kit they looked as cocky as ever and sounded a lot better than many thought they had any right to. The older album tracks kept the audience waiting for the singles for over an hour before Hunter sat at the keyboards and led the way into 'The Golden Age Of Rock'n'Roll', 'Honaloochie Boogie' and 'All The Way From Memphis'- judging by the reaction all were well worth waiting for- with encores of 'Roll Away The Stone' and the inevitable 'All The Young Dudes' (a rumoured appearance by David Bowie didn't happen sadly) upped the hysteria level before 'Saturday's Gigs' sent us all home happy. A fine show.