Hells Ditch

We arrive at The Pilgrim early for informal banter with Chris who’s promoting tonight’s Hell’s Ditch in Liverpool. The gig was rescheduled form early this year and it’s nice to be here after a couple of false starts. This is the first of a series of gigs I’ll be doing with Craig and we’ve had a couple of rehearsals since returning from Sweden. Chris’s band Rattlebus are first on and kick up some rowdy roots n roll, they sound like The Long Riders which is a complement. After the raffle [I love gigs with raffles] we play a 45 minute set and I’m not sure, to be honest, quite how well we were received [it was a very audience-talky gig] but we enjoy it and the all round feel of the club is cosy and mostly appreciative give or take a strange sense of indifference I seem to be picking up on. I do a few poems but I get the feeling people don’t want to hear such cock n bull stories, and that I am coming across all wrong. We play ‘Revolt into Style’ [title track of the next album] for the first time live as a duo and it feels like it means something…well it does to me in this the hottest gig I think I’ve ever played. I don’t think I’ve ever sweated so much and having the flu doesn’t help. My voice is not all there and my cough gets in the way of words. This time last week we were rocking the festival masses. Now I’m making excuses for what exactly I’m not sure. Sometimes the highs and lows of performing can engender much intense internal debate but this time I can’t put my finger on anything in particular other as I get a strange feeling of emptiness and futility that leaves me feeling less than satisfied with our little show; and all this despite several apparently genuine well wishing complements from the audience. That’s just how it is sometimes. Terry the Turnip understands, VPx................................................................