Confessions of a Sperm Donor

I’m not used to taking my own PA to gigs, but on this occasion I did and it seemed to work out just fine. It’s not always been the case, indeed there was a time when I wondered if I was possessed of some digital destruction gene that made all connectivity crackle such was the frequency of gear not working and PAs petering out, amps, well, dont get me going ... I arrive at Bar 67 in Shropshire at 745 pm and its raining bats and frogs and I’ve got a PA that packs up and looks like airplane carry on luggage. There are some kids drinking and buzzing in and out of the venue as I order latte and iced water rehab style. It’s a small modern space, the kids are watching me set up – 'know any OASIS' one of them says – they seem nice enough and full of the joys of youth. My daughter and her partner Joe arrive. I start the gig; people turn up in dribs and drabs. I play a couple of sets. The gig gets interactive, the lads have comic timing, and we play the pass the tambourine game and make a right good racket. The gig feels like a workshop at a young offender’s institute! - in a good way. Cousin by proxy Josh arrives and in the break we talk about Masterchef, the inevitability of him winning it and the boys in claret and blue. Leah joins me on stage for a few of the songs and we have fun, just trying out things, improvising. This was a proper up close and personal gig – and whilst the audience were not exactly a listening crowd it didn’t detract from the sense of energy and engagement shared. Woo hoo....