Bristol

It’s been awhile since I was in Bristol, city of the arts and home to Cousin Martin. On the way down we stop off for food and luxuriate in a lovely little place on the outskirts of town, located by Boneheads uncanny knack of pub spotting…should you ever need a pub just ask the man. We arrive in Bristol and we’re early which is nice so we load in and loaf around. I spend some considerable time looking for a parking machine that actually works but there isn’t one and leave a sign in the van to this effect. Miles and Erica arrive and we say hello and swan around on the riverbank. It’s a great location. The Thelka is a boat and the gig is in the hold. We are a short drive from the hotel which is nice change from last night where we had a 10 mile trip across town. Sound checks out without a hitch,we check in and get a taxi back to the venue just in time to catch the end of Miles and Ericas set. They’re playing a Wonderstuff song the title of which eludes me. I love the Wonderstuff so having Miles on board for these dates was always going to be a good idea and at some point soon I’ll catch all of Miles and Erica’s set. We make plans with them for a beer at some forthcoming shows but for now they are driving home immediately post gig. Before the gig I stretch guitar strings that I changed earlier. The acoustic guitar looks like it’s been on the road for years and it’s all mucky with sweat and from last nights gig that was so hot [as previously mentioned] that the feedback buster [which is like a rubber stopper that plugs the sound hole to prevent feedback] has in part melted so there are drips of rubber residue all over the sound board/scratch-place. I have to scrape them off with a pen knife; the value of my Taylor diminishes accordingly! I just about get the whole string stretching guitar tech thing together before we go on. Whilst we’re on the subject of GEAR it must be said that despite the Fender Twin meltdown in BURY the Fender Bassman is proving to be a most welcome replacement, borrowed from Bonehead. I’m now running the Bassman through the speakers of my old Fender Twin. So there you go…a rare moment of geekdom. Our gig is a decent affair, the crowd is quieter than some [a southern thing I quip into the void] although they seem to wake up with a start once I start talking football [this always happens to the quieter respectful type audiences]; there’s always someone willing to engage about football. That said one needs to proceed with caution. Did I ever tell you about the Newcastle gaff at the Sunderland gig, well, seriously it was touch and go for minute. After the show I meet up with Mike Hagan who I’ve not seen for 20 years, we were former nursing colleagues in the 1980s so there’s plenty to catch up on and plenty we didn’t have time for. I only hope it’s not another 20 years before we do it all again. It was lovely to see him. The rest of the night was spent drinking strong draft lager on deck with various permeations of Jeff, the band and Cousin Martin. Around midnight Pete Doherty plays an impromptu gig and we sneak in for a peak, The Thelka is now suitably rammed and the kids love it. I found it all strangely amusing but that might just be my olden world approach to credibility as people seemed to be more interested in his sobriety/notoriety than any kind of performance [which wasn’t bad still I’ll leave it there as I fear I’m knotting my ties at this celebrity juncture]. We get taxis back to the hotel and decline the kebab stop off that didn’t seem such a good idea once we actually saw it as to quote Jeff it was all kicking off good-style so we get Chinese food at 3am in a restaurant some fifty yards from the hotel and it’s perfect. VP