The Who are my favourite group.
Back in the '70's, when I was at secondary school, I had a milk round. I spent much of my money on records, generally glam rock singles- the first I remember buying with 'my own money' was 'Metal Guru' by T.Rex which is still one of my very favourite songs. And the first album I bought was 'Meaty Beaty Big and Bouncy' by The Who. For those of you that don't know (shame on you!!) it's a collection of their early singles and well known album tracks. I've still got it and it still plays (just!); I listened to it so much that I knew how long the gaps between the tracks were and could sing along with the songs as they started... my mates liked prog rock but I liked The 'Oo- they were faster, nastier and above all funnier. They were my friends when I didn't have any friends. They still are, sometimes. They sang about men who hadn't grown up. They sang about underarm deodorant. They sang about frustration, confusion, people who didn't know themselves- they sang about me. I started playing the guitar because I listened to them and thought 'I want to do THAT'. I liked The Beatles when other people liked Yes, I liked The Stones when other people liked Genesis and most of all I liked punk rock when other people wouldn't say the words let alone play the music- but I liked The Who the most of all. And I still do. I never saw them with Keith Moon on drums so some would say I've never seen them at all- but I saw them with Kenney Jones and loved it. I didn't see them in '89- I couldn't stomach the idea of Townshend on acoustic guitar with someone else playing electric for him- but I saw the 'Quadrophenia' shows in '96/7 and have seen them loads of times since. Now there's only 2 of the original band left of course- with a new album out which, as type this, I can't wait to hear. I haven't got the latest McCartney or Stones album. That says something.
I went to The Roundhouse in Camden Town last night to see The Who. What an amazing venue. I didn't go to the original Roundhouse but this is something to behold, a domed ceiling with lights all around it in what are probably best described as 'ever decreasing circles'. An extraordinary sight.
The Fratellis supported and pretty good they were too. They started with 'The Seeker'- don't know if they usually do that in the set?- which I felt could have wound the audience up but actually went down very well; the rest of their (short) set was generally well received though you got the feeling that most people were just hanging on to the place in the crowd by the end. Still they played their well known song- must find the title!- which even I recognised and finished with a song that had the middle bit from 'Hot Love' and ended with the riff from 'Children of the Revolution' so they can't be all bad.
Introduced by 'Johnnie Walker of Radio 2' The Who started with 'I Can't Explain'- Pete in suit, shades and stripey black & white hat, Roger looking mean as ever, the song 41 years old. Then 'The Seeker'- suddenly The Fratellis sound, well, silly- followed by probably the best 'Who Are You' I've seen them do. Astonishing guitar from P.T., the band rising to the occasion with him. Breathtaking.
And then, the 'new' songs. The much touted mini-opera 'Wire and Glass', 15-odd minutes of music, ambitious at this stage of the game even by Townshend's standards. Then 'Baba O'Riley' and 'My Generation' provoking a near-riot mid set... then another new song, 'Man in a Purple Dress', a furious religious indictment performed by just acoustic guitar and vocals. 'Mike Post's Theme', yet another new song, yet more acoustic guitar. Then a 'Tommy' medley- the 2 lads in front of me (I can call them lads, they looked less than half my age!) reacting to the opening chords of 'Pinball Wizard' as though they'd been given proof that life after death exists, 'Amazing Journey' running into 'Sparks' with Roger breaking the skin on a tambourine at the moment Pete hit the largest E chord any of us will ever hear, into 'See Me Feel Me/Listening To You' and the riot that nearly happened earlier is now all around me and I'm part of it...
Suddenly it's 'Tea and Theatre', the last song, the last new song, two 60-something year old men reducing the Roundhouse to rubble with nothing more than an acoustic guitar and a teacup. No encore. You can't follow that. Like the first time I heard 'em, like the first time I saw 'em, all I want to do now is play the electric guitar. As good as I've ever seen anybody. As good as most of us will ever see. Gig of the year. Gig of the decade. Of the millennium. Of all time*.
Meet the new boss...
*well... you know what I mean!!
Monday, October 30, 2006
Corporate rock weekend (2)
Phase 2 of our campaign takes us to the rather splendid surroundings of Kingston Maurward College near Dorchester in Dorset, for a fundraising evening on behalf of the renal unit at the local hospital. Arriving a bit late with the long-suffering Shirley I find everyone else set up and soundchecked so I get my gear sorted in record time before finding the rest of the lads in the downstairs canteen- our base for the evening (they'd originally offered us, in Pete's words, 'a cupboard'). There's a tab at the bar (hurrah!) but no food (boo- and despite us being in a canteen!) so Pete and Shirley head off to the chip shop while the rest of us try not to go to the bar straight away. After they've returned with the food we have a tactical discussion along the lines of 'where does the act go from here?'- lots of good things said, lots to think about!
Gigtime then- and it's at this point two things are worth a mention. The first is the rather unusual nature of the venue- it's effectively an 'indoor tent' i.e. we're in a large rectangular room with (and I guess this is the best way to describe it) a tent set up in it. Sounds mad doesn't it? As the stage was at one end of it I've got the sloping bit of the tent on my head. Serves me right for being tall... the second thing to mention is that, it being a medical benefit evening, the place is full of nurses. A few doctors here and there but mostly nurses. Who have been drinking. A lot. The dance floor's full during the first number and stays pretty much that way for the whole show. And for the second night in a row things happen that cannot be recounted here.
So they won't be.
And for the second night in a row it's a great gig. Everyone plays well and Pete & Michael (the latter fueled by a bottled beer called 'Barn Owl'; when that ran out he had to have 'Old Thumper') are on top form throughout- a fine weekend's work.
As we're leaving Shirley tells me she was talking to 2 of the lads who worked at the venue. They thought she was about 25 years old which, as you can imagine, amused her greatly. As she was telling me this a rat ran out in front of us. A strange moment to end on... and what is it with her and rats?!?
Gigtime then- and it's at this point two things are worth a mention. The first is the rather unusual nature of the venue- it's effectively an 'indoor tent' i.e. we're in a large rectangular room with (and I guess this is the best way to describe it) a tent set up in it. Sounds mad doesn't it? As the stage was at one end of it I've got the sloping bit of the tent on my head. Serves me right for being tall... the second thing to mention is that, it being a medical benefit evening, the place is full of nurses. A few doctors here and there but mostly nurses. Who have been drinking. A lot. The dance floor's full during the first number and stays pretty much that way for the whole show. And for the second night in a row things happen that cannot be recounted here.
So they won't be.
And for the second night in a row it's a great gig. Everyone plays well and Pete & Michael (the latter fueled by a bottled beer called 'Barn Owl'; when that ran out he had to have 'Old Thumper') are on top form throughout- a fine weekend's work.
As we're leaving Shirley tells me she was talking to 2 of the lads who worked at the venue. They thought she was about 25 years old which, as you can imagine, amused her greatly. As she was telling me this a rat ran out in front of us. A strange moment to end on... and what is it with her and rats?!?
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Corporate rock weekend (1)
-in which your humble narrator spends 2 consecutive evenings attempting to entertain a lot of people who won't remember what they were doing when they were watching him.
Friday 5.30p.m. and after what felt like a particularly long day working in the shop I'm waiting for a tube train. It's been raining and the tracks are wet so the trains aren't running. It's only been a couple of months since it was sunny and the tracks were hot so the trains weren't running- funny old life sometimes eh? Eventually I make it to Victoria station and ask around for directions to the Victoria Park Plaza hotel where the rest of the lads are in the Indian restaurant next door. Not many people speak English, and those who do have never heard of it. After 30-something minutes I find it, all of 250 yards from the station.
After a couple of minutes ranting I calm down for long enough to find out that we're playing at a Formula 4 awards ceremony- should be interesting... after food it's pub time; heroically resisting the charms of The Elusive Camel we end up in the more, shall we say, traditional surroundings of The Lord Burleigh for what feels like a much-deserved drink.
Back at the hotel we ready ourselves for action- no horns tonight so Gary's playing all their parts on keys, something he does remarkably well. After the usual 'you're on in 5 minutes... er, actually they're still eating/presenting awards/watching a video of themselves' stuff we start with 'Green Onions' to the unlikely sight of people dancing- a rare event in corporate-land. It was around this moment that I realised that we were in for a good gig- not least because it seems that where there's up and coming racing drivers there's a healthy supply of extremely good looking young ladies (sorry Shirley if you're reading this!) many of whom are dancing in a rather energetic manner a couple of yards in front of us. Details are necessarily sketchy at this point although both of the young ladies who joined us on stage will stay in my warped mind for quite some time, albeit for very different reasons... as we finished with 'Sweet Home Chicago' the DJ put the first record on (I still call them records don't you?!? Much better than 'discs' or 'tracks' isn't it?) and they all carried on dancing. I wonder how many of them noticed we'd finished?
As I was leaving for the night bus Gary very kindly offered me a lift home. Good man; but it took us over half an hour to find his car. He'd forgotten where the car park was; if it wasn't for the fact that a limousine driver waiting outside the hotel had a map of the area I fear we would still be there looking for it. It was nearly 2 o'clock when I got home- it had indeed been a long day.
Friday 5.30p.m. and after what felt like a particularly long day working in the shop I'm waiting for a tube train. It's been raining and the tracks are wet so the trains aren't running. It's only been a couple of months since it was sunny and the tracks were hot so the trains weren't running- funny old life sometimes eh? Eventually I make it to Victoria station and ask around for directions to the Victoria Park Plaza hotel where the rest of the lads are in the Indian restaurant next door. Not many people speak English, and those who do have never heard of it. After 30-something minutes I find it, all of 250 yards from the station.
After a couple of minutes ranting I calm down for long enough to find out that we're playing at a Formula 4 awards ceremony- should be interesting... after food it's pub time; heroically resisting the charms of The Elusive Camel we end up in the more, shall we say, traditional surroundings of The Lord Burleigh for what feels like a much-deserved drink.
Back at the hotel we ready ourselves for action- no horns tonight so Gary's playing all their parts on keys, something he does remarkably well. After the usual 'you're on in 5 minutes... er, actually they're still eating/presenting awards/watching a video of themselves' stuff we start with 'Green Onions' to the unlikely sight of people dancing- a rare event in corporate-land. It was around this moment that I realised that we were in for a good gig- not least because it seems that where there's up and coming racing drivers there's a healthy supply of extremely good looking young ladies (sorry Shirley if you're reading this!) many of whom are dancing in a rather energetic manner a couple of yards in front of us. Details are necessarily sketchy at this point although both of the young ladies who joined us on stage will stay in my warped mind for quite some time, albeit for very different reasons... as we finished with 'Sweet Home Chicago' the DJ put the first record on (I still call them records don't you?!? Much better than 'discs' or 'tracks' isn't it?) and they all carried on dancing. I wonder how many of them noticed we'd finished?
As I was leaving for the night bus Gary very kindly offered me a lift home. Good man; but it took us over half an hour to find his car. He'd forgotten where the car park was; if it wasn't for the fact that a limousine driver waiting outside the hotel had a map of the area I fear we would still be there looking for it. It was nearly 2 o'clock when I got home- it had indeed been a long day.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Back to work
I always think that we don't play many midweek gigs but we seem to be doing quite a few these days. Last night we found ourselves at the Weston Auditorium in Hatfield, a rather splendid theatre that's actually part of the university although not exclusively i.e. mere mortals like me and you are allowed in rather than it being 'student only' (I'm sure this is where they used to do the 'Sight & Sound in Concert' T.V./radio programme from, although it was Hatfield Polytechnic back in those far-off days). Pete's back from Las Vegas, Dave Land's back on trumpet, Squirrel's bought his family with him and I'm with the long-suffering Shirley- and what a jolly bunch we all are, with much hello-ing and good-to-see-you-ing all round... in marked contrast to the end of the last 'non-dep' gig in Kirkcaldy where it felt like the declaration of World War 3 would have been seen as a peaceful move.
This is good news.
Soundcheck comes and goes without too many hiccup's although when I first tried my vocal mic I sounded a bit like a robot which I obviously rather liked... then it's off to find the bar. Being a theatre show it's a 7.30 start which always seems really early to me but there's plenty of advance tickets sold so we should be in for a good night. With this in mind Pete's re-instated a couple of costume changes (I won't tell you what they are as it'll ruin it for you when you come to see the show!). Normally his wife Jayne helps him with them but tonight she's still jetlagged at home so it's down to Shirley who rather bravely takes her place in the wings ready for action. The show has the feel of being 'back to work'; the first half get the audience ready to dance, the second let's 'em get on with it. Everything from the medley's to the costume changes run smoothly- a good gig all round. At the end Pete suggests we all go out front to 'shake some hands' which we duly do, a nice end to a nice evening. Here's a venue that I for one hope we return to.
Talking of midweek gigs we've got another one next Wednesday which promises to be quite a memorable occasion. More news as and when I have it 'though from what I know about it so far we should all recognise at least 2 people in the audience...
This is good news.
Soundcheck comes and goes without too many hiccup's although when I first tried my vocal mic I sounded a bit like a robot which I obviously rather liked... then it's off to find the bar. Being a theatre show it's a 7.30 start which always seems really early to me but there's plenty of advance tickets sold so we should be in for a good night. With this in mind Pete's re-instated a couple of costume changes (I won't tell you what they are as it'll ruin it for you when you come to see the show!). Normally his wife Jayne helps him with them but tonight she's still jetlagged at home so it's down to Shirley who rather bravely takes her place in the wings ready for action. The show has the feel of being 'back to work'; the first half get the audience ready to dance, the second let's 'em get on with it. Everything from the medley's to the costume changes run smoothly- a good gig all round. At the end Pete suggests we all go out front to 'shake some hands' which we duly do, a nice end to a nice evening. Here's a venue that I for one hope we return to.
Talking of midweek gigs we've got another one next Wednesday which promises to be quite a memorable occasion. More news as and when I have it 'though from what I know about it so far we should all recognise at least 2 people in the audience...
Monday, October 23, 2006
New York, London and Matlock
The title of this post may well look like a particularly odd set of tour dates (now that I've said that I'll be doing them myself) but it actually refers to the bands I saw last night at The Forum (I still call it The Town & Country Club) in Kentish Town.
First up, The Philistines with Glen Matlock on bass. Back in 1992 when I was in The Price we played with Glen & co several times and I got to know him fairly well (it took me ages to recover from the first time he phoned me up!) although they were called The Mavericks initially- yes they had to change their name! Paul O'Brien was on guitar then, now they feature the excellent Ray McVeigh who used to be in The Professionals with Paul Cook & Steve Jones. And good stuff it was too with 'Suck it and See' from the days when we gigged with them amongst the newer material. They also resisted the old Pistols songs (they often play 'Pretty Vacant') which I guess would have been an easy way to get the audience on their side. McVeigh's guitar strap was so long that he could balance the guitar on his foot (I'm not making this up!) and Glen's came off in the first song (if you're reading this Glen we sell things in the shop that'll keep it on). Pity they were on so early.
8.30 and it's time for the Towers of London, 5 thin men with immaculately unkempt hair who could be brothers, but probably aren't. And what an excellent row they made, somewhere between Hanoi Rocks and Guns'n'Roses with all the right things in all the right places- sweary lyrics, gratuitously mad guitar solos and lots of clothes being taken off as early as the second number. It would be interesting to see them again to see how much was rehearsed and how much wasn't. Still, judging by the amount of blonde bombshells watching from the wings it looks to me that they'll get to where they want to go; I'm just not sure they've got the songs to go with the act and the attitude. But what do I know? Whatever I thought of them, I hope they don't care what I think.
And then my friends, The New York Dolls. From the moment David Johansen drawled 'when I say I'm in love you'd best believe I'm in love L-U-V' and the band crashed into the opening chords of 'Looking for a Kiss' it was an 'I was there' sort of gig. Everyone says they liked the Dolls back in the punk days but I'd never actually heard them. No one I knew had heard them, we'd only heard of them, mostly from reading interviews with bands who namechecked them as an influence (Pistols, Clash, Damned, all the punk bands basically). I saw Thunders and Nolan in The Heartbreakers and thought they were brilliant 'though I'm more than aware that there were good and bad nights... but what was amazing about this was how, with only 2 original members (Johansen and Sylvain, everyone else is dead, sadly) the SPIRIT of the band remained intact. It also struck me how some of the songs had a kind of 'darkness' about them, an amazing power that I also saw in Iggy and the Stooges at Hammersmith last year, and in The Sex Pistols at Shepherd's Bush in 1996 (2 of my favourite ever gigs). Suffice to say that as they played 'Jet Boy' and I found myself singing 'LIKE HE WAS MY BABY' at the top of my voice, they sounded to me like the best punk rock'roll band ever, playing the best punk rock'n'roll song EVER. And believe me when I say that I don't write those words lightly. It felt like a reason to play music, a reason to play rock'roll, a reason to be alive. Yes, they were that good. Really.
I love playing the music I play with the Blues Bros./Commitments shows but it's time to play some rock'n'roll again. I must make some phone calls... and find some time from somewhere!!
Outside the venue I saw the singer from the Towers of London with a beautiful blonde girl trying to wrap herself around him. I decided he's wasn't going to be waiting for the same 'rail replacement service' bus as me. And I was right. He wasn't.
First up, The Philistines with Glen Matlock on bass. Back in 1992 when I was in The Price we played with Glen & co several times and I got to know him fairly well (it took me ages to recover from the first time he phoned me up!) although they were called The Mavericks initially- yes they had to change their name! Paul O'Brien was on guitar then, now they feature the excellent Ray McVeigh who used to be in The Professionals with Paul Cook & Steve Jones. And good stuff it was too with 'Suck it and See' from the days when we gigged with them amongst the newer material. They also resisted the old Pistols songs (they often play 'Pretty Vacant') which I guess would have been an easy way to get the audience on their side. McVeigh's guitar strap was so long that he could balance the guitar on his foot (I'm not making this up!) and Glen's came off in the first song (if you're reading this Glen we sell things in the shop that'll keep it on). Pity they were on so early.
8.30 and it's time for the Towers of London, 5 thin men with immaculately unkempt hair who could be brothers, but probably aren't. And what an excellent row they made, somewhere between Hanoi Rocks and Guns'n'Roses with all the right things in all the right places- sweary lyrics, gratuitously mad guitar solos and lots of clothes being taken off as early as the second number. It would be interesting to see them again to see how much was rehearsed and how much wasn't. Still, judging by the amount of blonde bombshells watching from the wings it looks to me that they'll get to where they want to go; I'm just not sure they've got the songs to go with the act and the attitude. But what do I know? Whatever I thought of them, I hope they don't care what I think.
And then my friends, The New York Dolls. From the moment David Johansen drawled 'when I say I'm in love you'd best believe I'm in love L-U-V' and the band crashed into the opening chords of 'Looking for a Kiss' it was an 'I was there' sort of gig. Everyone says they liked the Dolls back in the punk days but I'd never actually heard them. No one I knew had heard them, we'd only heard of them, mostly from reading interviews with bands who namechecked them as an influence (Pistols, Clash, Damned, all the punk bands basically). I saw Thunders and Nolan in The Heartbreakers and thought they were brilliant 'though I'm more than aware that there were good and bad nights... but what was amazing about this was how, with only 2 original members (Johansen and Sylvain, everyone else is dead, sadly) the SPIRIT of the band remained intact. It also struck me how some of the songs had a kind of 'darkness' about them, an amazing power that I also saw in Iggy and the Stooges at Hammersmith last year, and in The Sex Pistols at Shepherd's Bush in 1996 (2 of my favourite ever gigs). Suffice to say that as they played 'Jet Boy' and I found myself singing 'LIKE HE WAS MY BABY' at the top of my voice, they sounded to me like the best punk rock'roll band ever, playing the best punk rock'n'roll song EVER. And believe me when I say that I don't write those words lightly. It felt like a reason to play music, a reason to play rock'roll, a reason to be alive. Yes, they were that good. Really.
I love playing the music I play with the Blues Bros./Commitments shows but it's time to play some rock'n'roll again. I must make some phone calls... and find some time from somewhere!!
Outside the venue I saw the singer from the Towers of London with a beautiful blonde girl trying to wrap herself around him. I decided he's wasn't going to be waiting for the same 'rail replacement service' bus as me. And I was right. He wasn't.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Depping blues
I've referred to 'depping' quite a bit in these missives, most often in connection to horn players (e.g. in the previous entry); as I'm sure you've realised it's all to do with getting someone else to do a gig for you that you yourself can't do for whatever reason. Every so often I find myself in this somewhat murky world 'though last night was the first one for a while.
If you go back a few posts to 'Own Goal' you'll find a reference to Mario- he's 'Jake' in The Briefcase Blues Brothers. To cut a long-ish story short myself and Gary were invited to play with The B.B.B's last night at a birthday party in Ramsden Bellhouse, a village near Billericay in Essex. Mario sent me over a c.d. of one of their shows which thanks to our ever wonderful postal service only arrived on Friday leaving me only Saturday morning to give it a listen and learn anything that needed learning. As you might expect they play a similar set to ourselves- though some of the songs are in different keys which is always a potential minefield- to which they add a few numbers, ranging from things like 'Shout', and 'The Hippy Hippy Shake' through to less obvious songs, my personal favourite being that well-known Blues Brothers classic 'I wanna be like you' from 'The Jungle Book'. (Apparently Mario always sings it, what ever band he's in. Good man!). Sadly that wasn't on the c.d. so I had to find that one for myself... and here's where depping gets, for want of a better word, dangerous. If you know a particular version of a song well it's often hard to 'forget' that way of playing it if their version's a bit different.
As I discovered...
After the usual wrong turnings we arrived in Ramsden Bellhouse. It's a small village with some very big houses- I would guess the average house size in the road we were in to be about the size of the entire terrace that my Dad's house is in. We're in the usual BIG TENT in the garden. (Or should that be in the grounds?). I meet the rest of the band- Matt's playing Elwood, Kylan's on bass and Adam's on drums- and get set up. Gary's got an extra keyboard with him as he's also playing the horn parts making for a bit more gear than usual in his corner. We run through a couple of bits- intro's, endings, cues etc- and then it's time to go to the pub. No point mucking about rehearsing when we could be drinking- I like these guys! After a couple of drinks, some food and what might best be described as 'verbal rehearsing' ('watch me for the ending' etc) it's back to the gig. We have to park about half a mile from the house as there's so many cars in the area. Oh well, at least that means we've got an audience. There's a chocolate fountain, a champagne fountain and some gaming tables in the tent as well as a bar. Are they going to notice us?!?
10.15-ish and we're starting with 'Everybody Needs Somebody to Love', quicker than we play it and with different bits everywhere. This wasn't on the c.d. either. Bugger! It puts me off a bit- come on Leigh, pull yourself together. The second song's 'Sweet Home Chicago'- I've played it loads of times, so why did I make such a mess of the intro? Argh! Then it's 'Midnight Hour- we play it in the key of C, they play it in E. Concentrate man!
As I say, it's been a while since I've done some depping and I'd all but forgotten how nerveracking it can be. Things settle down, oddly enough, on the numbers we don't play- a medley of 'Wipeout' (great drumming!) and 'Money' hots things up and 'I wanna be like you' is terrific fun. But we're not getting the audience- despite Matt and Mario's best efforts they're on the gaming tables, at the bar, everywhere but the dancefloor. It takes the inevitable 'Mustang Sally' with one of the audience on vocals to get them really interested and when the casino closes the dancefloor fills up accordingly and by then even the power going off can't stop it being a good show. Everyone in the band seems happy at the end of the show- if they did hear my mistakes then they're all very good actors!- and Mario asks me what I'm doing Christmas Eve as he might have a gig for me. Maybe depping's not so bad after all.
If you go back a few posts to 'Own Goal' you'll find a reference to Mario- he's 'Jake' in The Briefcase Blues Brothers. To cut a long-ish story short myself and Gary were invited to play with The B.B.B's last night at a birthday party in Ramsden Bellhouse, a village near Billericay in Essex. Mario sent me over a c.d. of one of their shows which thanks to our ever wonderful postal service only arrived on Friday leaving me only Saturday morning to give it a listen and learn anything that needed learning. As you might expect they play a similar set to ourselves- though some of the songs are in different keys which is always a potential minefield- to which they add a few numbers, ranging from things like 'Shout', and 'The Hippy Hippy Shake' through to less obvious songs, my personal favourite being that well-known Blues Brothers classic 'I wanna be like you' from 'The Jungle Book'. (Apparently Mario always sings it, what ever band he's in. Good man!). Sadly that wasn't on the c.d. so I had to find that one for myself... and here's where depping gets, for want of a better word, dangerous. If you know a particular version of a song well it's often hard to 'forget' that way of playing it if their version's a bit different.
As I discovered...
After the usual wrong turnings we arrived in Ramsden Bellhouse. It's a small village with some very big houses- I would guess the average house size in the road we were in to be about the size of the entire terrace that my Dad's house is in. We're in the usual BIG TENT in the garden. (Or should that be in the grounds?). I meet the rest of the band- Matt's playing Elwood, Kylan's on bass and Adam's on drums- and get set up. Gary's got an extra keyboard with him as he's also playing the horn parts making for a bit more gear than usual in his corner. We run through a couple of bits- intro's, endings, cues etc- and then it's time to go to the pub. No point mucking about rehearsing when we could be drinking- I like these guys! After a couple of drinks, some food and what might best be described as 'verbal rehearsing' ('watch me for the ending' etc) it's back to the gig. We have to park about half a mile from the house as there's so many cars in the area. Oh well, at least that means we've got an audience. There's a chocolate fountain, a champagne fountain and some gaming tables in the tent as well as a bar. Are they going to notice us?!?
10.15-ish and we're starting with 'Everybody Needs Somebody to Love', quicker than we play it and with different bits everywhere. This wasn't on the c.d. either. Bugger! It puts me off a bit- come on Leigh, pull yourself together. The second song's 'Sweet Home Chicago'- I've played it loads of times, so why did I make such a mess of the intro? Argh! Then it's 'Midnight Hour- we play it in the key of C, they play it in E. Concentrate man!
As I say, it's been a while since I've done some depping and I'd all but forgotten how nerveracking it can be. Things settle down, oddly enough, on the numbers we don't play- a medley of 'Wipeout' (great drumming!) and 'Money' hots things up and 'I wanna be like you' is terrific fun. But we're not getting the audience- despite Matt and Mario's best efforts they're on the gaming tables, at the bar, everywhere but the dancefloor. It takes the inevitable 'Mustang Sally' with one of the audience on vocals to get them really interested and when the casino closes the dancefloor fills up accordingly and by then even the power going off can't stop it being a good show. Everyone in the band seems happy at the end of the show- if they did hear my mistakes then they're all very good actors!- and Mario asks me what I'm doing Christmas Eve as he might have a gig for me. Maybe depping's not so bad after all.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Bath time
Last night's gig was, as Sherlock Holmes might have remarked, a singular evening for quite a few reasons. Here are some of them:-
Friday afternoon and we're on our way to Bath. The M4's moving reasonably well and we're looking forward to the show, not least because it's a place called The Priory- cue rehab gags a-plenty. I'm in the car with Mike Hyde- he's depping for Pete (away in Las Vegas celebrating one year of marriage) and I'm on the phone to Squirrel who's in the bus with the rest of the lads. It seems the P.A. boys are there already and tell us the room we're playing in is a small one- 'about the size of a front room'. They've taken a full P.A. and a 40 channel mixing desk with them which, if what they say is true, could be seen as overkill. 'If you're there before us, check they've got the right room' says Squirrel, in a voice that could politely be described as 'shaky'.
Arriving in Bath it's time for the latest round of Sat. Nav. lottery. After going round in circles for a while we opt for the 'let's ask that bloke over there' option which turns out to be rather more entertaining than even I was hoping as he's probably the local acid casualty ('I don't really know where I am at the moment') who let's his dog jump up at the car a few too many times than he should have (Mike wasn't happy!)and leaves us more confused than ever. To confirm this we go the wrong way down a one-way street- every car in Bath suddenly comes towards us- re-trace our steps (if you see what I mean) a bit and eventually spot Squirrel outside The Priory which turns out to be a very well-to-do hotel with a car park full of giant cars and people smoking. Perhaps it is a rehab hospital after all- albeit one that's hosting the wedding reception we're playing at.
Well if this is the size of a front room then the P.A. boys have got very big houses indeed- though putting a mixing desk that's the size of a double bed into it does restrict things a bit I suppose. As I walk in I hear the words 'good musicians don't need mixing desks' from a man who I decide is something like the head waiter... I do the decent thing and retreat to the Gents where I decide that the local acid casualty had the right idea. Either I'm seeing things or there's a Brazilian football shirt signed by Pele on the wall in a frame. Now there's something I've never seen in a hotel toilet before. I took a picture of it on my phone- it really was there, honest.
Soundcheck time and things actually sound pretty good. And the horns have arrived- Ian Richards on sax and Matt Winch on trumpet depping for Richard and Dave respectively. Time for some food and to find out if we've got a room to change in. Oh, we can use the spa changing rooms can we?. Ok. We head down to the spa to find the girl on reception is (a) the best looking woman in the world and (b) at a loss as to what we're doing there. Eventually we're allowed to use the changing rooms though by now she's on a rowing machine which causes us all to walk into each other rather a lot.
Back upstairs and it's nearly showtime. But hang on a minute- isn't the lighting rig going to burn that large and rather expensive looking oil painting that it appears to be touching? It gets moved but will reappear in our story before long... the happy couple have their first dance to 'Let's stay together' by Al Green (good choice) and then we're on. As 'Peter Gunn' kicks things off we realise the lights are right in our eyes (Oh good) and, of course, the dancefloor's cleared. But we're playing well and people are getting into it which can't be bad although that guy right down the front seems to be getting into it a bit too much; he manages to stay on his feet until 'Hold on I'm coming' when he falls into Matt's music stand sending paper and beer everywhere and bending the stand in the process, much to his understandable annoyance- although his comment afterwards about billing the guy for it might be a bit optimistic. By 'Knock on wood' it's all getting a bit weird with Michael's comment that the guy he's got up to sing with us looks like Buddy Holly (he wore glasses so I suppose I do too!) giving me and John a chance to go into 'Peggy Sue'. And then, during 'New Orleans', it all goes dark. Yes, you've guessed it, the lighting rig's been knocked over. Oh well- at least that means the painting's safe, at least until it's put back up again.
After the show we go down to get changed to find that the best looking woman in the world's gone home. Boo hoo. And if that wasn't bad enough all our stuff's been moved out of the changing room and dumped in the spa reception area. Some people might have stolen a towel or two in protest...
After a final look at Pele's shirt it's roadtime again with (Mr.) Sting on the radio telling us all about his new found prowess on the lute (why doesn't he just leave us all alone?!?) and Steve Lamacq (I wonder if he'll ever answer his phone to me again?) plugging an upcoming documentary on The Damned as a horrific-looking accident closes all but one lane of the M4. As we're nearing home Mark Lamarr plays 'The power is yours' by The Redskins. It's 1.30a.m. and it sounds fantastic.
Friday afternoon and we're on our way to Bath. The M4's moving reasonably well and we're looking forward to the show, not least because it's a place called The Priory- cue rehab gags a-plenty. I'm in the car with Mike Hyde- he's depping for Pete (away in Las Vegas celebrating one year of marriage) and I'm on the phone to Squirrel who's in the bus with the rest of the lads. It seems the P.A. boys are there already and tell us the room we're playing in is a small one- 'about the size of a front room'. They've taken a full P.A. and a 40 channel mixing desk with them which, if what they say is true, could be seen as overkill. 'If you're there before us, check they've got the right room' says Squirrel, in a voice that could politely be described as 'shaky'.
Arriving in Bath it's time for the latest round of Sat. Nav. lottery. After going round in circles for a while we opt for the 'let's ask that bloke over there' option which turns out to be rather more entertaining than even I was hoping as he's probably the local acid casualty ('I don't really know where I am at the moment') who let's his dog jump up at the car a few too many times than he should have (Mike wasn't happy!)and leaves us more confused than ever. To confirm this we go the wrong way down a one-way street- every car in Bath suddenly comes towards us- re-trace our steps (if you see what I mean) a bit and eventually spot Squirrel outside The Priory which turns out to be a very well-to-do hotel with a car park full of giant cars and people smoking. Perhaps it is a rehab hospital after all- albeit one that's hosting the wedding reception we're playing at.
Well if this is the size of a front room then the P.A. boys have got very big houses indeed- though putting a mixing desk that's the size of a double bed into it does restrict things a bit I suppose. As I walk in I hear the words 'good musicians don't need mixing desks' from a man who I decide is something like the head waiter... I do the decent thing and retreat to the Gents where I decide that the local acid casualty had the right idea. Either I'm seeing things or there's a Brazilian football shirt signed by Pele on the wall in a frame. Now there's something I've never seen in a hotel toilet before. I took a picture of it on my phone- it really was there, honest.
Soundcheck time and things actually sound pretty good. And the horns have arrived- Ian Richards on sax and Matt Winch on trumpet depping for Richard and Dave respectively. Time for some food and to find out if we've got a room to change in. Oh, we can use the spa changing rooms can we?. Ok. We head down to the spa to find the girl on reception is (a) the best looking woman in the world and (b) at a loss as to what we're doing there. Eventually we're allowed to use the changing rooms though by now she's on a rowing machine which causes us all to walk into each other rather a lot.
Back upstairs and it's nearly showtime. But hang on a minute- isn't the lighting rig going to burn that large and rather expensive looking oil painting that it appears to be touching? It gets moved but will reappear in our story before long... the happy couple have their first dance to 'Let's stay together' by Al Green (good choice) and then we're on. As 'Peter Gunn' kicks things off we realise the lights are right in our eyes (Oh good) and, of course, the dancefloor's cleared. But we're playing well and people are getting into it which can't be bad although that guy right down the front seems to be getting into it a bit too much; he manages to stay on his feet until 'Hold on I'm coming' when he falls into Matt's music stand sending paper and beer everywhere and bending the stand in the process, much to his understandable annoyance- although his comment afterwards about billing the guy for it might be a bit optimistic. By 'Knock on wood' it's all getting a bit weird with Michael's comment that the guy he's got up to sing with us looks like Buddy Holly (he wore glasses so I suppose I do too!) giving me and John a chance to go into 'Peggy Sue'. And then, during 'New Orleans', it all goes dark. Yes, you've guessed it, the lighting rig's been knocked over. Oh well- at least that means the painting's safe, at least until it's put back up again.
After the show we go down to get changed to find that the best looking woman in the world's gone home. Boo hoo. And if that wasn't bad enough all our stuff's been moved out of the changing room and dumped in the spa reception area. Some people might have stolen a towel or two in protest...
After a final look at Pele's shirt it's roadtime again with (Mr.) Sting on the radio telling us all about his new found prowess on the lute (why doesn't he just leave us all alone?!?) and Steve Lamacq (I wonder if he'll ever answer his phone to me again?) plugging an upcoming documentary on The Damned as a horrific-looking accident closes all but one lane of the M4. As we're nearing home Mark Lamarr plays 'The power is yours' by The Redskins. It's 1.30a.m. and it sounds fantastic.
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