As I now have a long train journey with nothing to do other than look at the back of other passengers' heads, i may aswell blog the gig.
Despite Nevil's (our guard) best attempts to pass the time and his private details over the tannoy, I find myself looking back over the night.
At first I contemplated a blog about my distain for London, going on and on about the grey manotony of it all. But I realised that was shit so I shall instead summarise my feelings thusly:
London:
Love the tube, too big, full of cunts..
Now onto the gig..
Arrived on time and raring to go, as usual no other band had a arrived for sound check and the promotor was absent (again).
After chatting to the bar staff, I found out I would only be paid after I brought 10 people through the door. As my London fan base is limited to be optimistic, non existent to be accurate, the chance of me getting any money towards train fare was also limited to be optimistic, non existent to be accurate.
With not even a complementary drink to tide me over till the bourbon started calling, I got on with my sound check.
Met a young lad from a grunge band playing later that night (who's behaviour would see him close to having a smoke machine rammed up his arse),and a great bunch of chaps from the band Tiny Birds.(www.reverbnation.com/tinybirds
If you like Mumford and sons, you'll like this.)
They opened up the night and despite starting with an audience of 2 including me. They jolly well went for it as if it were Wembley. Hats fully off to them they played a cracking set and despite the promotors best attempts to keep the pub as empty as possible, they drew in a few people from the street.
Had a chat with the chaps and hopefully will be trying to get them down 'ampshire way in the new year.
My set went down nicely and got a rapturous sing along from drink up. Mainly thanks to Tiny Birds giving it the preverbal welly.
But... Do you remember the boy I mentioned who (barely) avoided being impregnated by a smoke machine... Anally.
Well the reason for my displeasure was during my 3rd tune (lufestre) he decided a good way to show appreciation was to wrestle his band mate in front of the stage. At first I thought it was a fight so I nearly stopped, but the silly pratt was just rolling around on the floor. So dispite having lost my flow a little bit I had to carry on.
After the gig he came to "apologise" but what affronted when I said that it was "taking the piss"
I'm sorry but drunkenly rolling around like a spaz isn't exactly going to get you fucking brownie points. It's a one way ticket to smoke machine rape station.
Strangely enough, no bugger hung around for his set, even the sound engineer came out for a natter half way through their first song.
I call that twat justice!
Oh well, all in all though I think I came out on top. Found a new band I like and want to follow, made some new chums and hopefully some new contacts.
London may be a bit shit but ive actually enjoyed gigging here, especially the travel. Did I mention I liked the tube? Shame it's full of cunts though!
Tattie bye
'Chunks
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