“Its like Elvis in Vegas”- Greg


I had anticipated that this particular adventure would be of a slightly hazy-to-remember nature, and I had assumed it to be alcohol induced. What I hadn’t counted on was both Ailsa and myself coming down with phlegm lurgy the night before we were due to leave for the emerald isle. Unfazed, we threw practically every flu remedy that Boots would allow us to have down our necks and headed to the airport. To find our flight um, delayed. And the online check-in was broken. But thankfully my first trip from Luton airport was still a pleasant one, as it was considerably less busy than the dreaded Stansted we often have to frequent.

Upon arrival to our hotel, we see that we are in for a treat. Unassuming from the outside and tucked away down a side street, it ranked as one of the more posher choices of our usual economy rest stops. I barely had time to register its lushness when I spotted two large shiny mac screens in reception sitting there for public use. Here was me thinking that I would have to spend 3 days being disconnected from the interweb - fearsome visions of me waking up in the night bathed in a cold sweat screaming “they’ve posted a new blog with pictures!” had been racing through my mind as I started net cold turkey. Now I don’t have to! Praise the techno gods. We settled in our room, swallowed more flu pills, then went to explore, finding ourselves woefully underdressed for the sudden arctic temperatures that had descended.

Its rude to point


If one green bottle should accidentally fall...

We spent the afternoon exploring the city with all the excitable girls-on-tour finesse, (ie giggling like schoolgirls whenever any hot & Irish sounding boys spoke to us) buying ourselves some new and much needed scarves (how very faded seaside glamour!), laughing at the huge pointy point, picking out our potential eateries for the weekend, doing a bit of stalking at Bono’s hotel (unsuccessful) and eventually taking a little trip to find out where the Sugarclub was in preparation for tomorrow. Not to mention spotting Delays posters everywhere. But somehow, there was something slightly odd about them…

Time-slip

Italian was our choice for the evening, forgoing a night in a traditional Irish bar as both our heads & constitution were certainly not up for it. We were however up for large doses of ice cream, which we savoured until we could stay no longer.

The following morning, okay, the following mid-morning…well, dinnertime really…we headed off on one of the city bus tour guides with the intention of hopping on & off several times, snapping some of the ’sites’ to prove to our folks that we didn’t spend the entire weekend just drinking & stalking rock stars. This plan got foiled when we managed to pick the most hilarious tour guide possible, and we didn’t have any intention of getting off this particular bus. “They say that Rome is the Holy city, but h’its not cha’know, its Dublin. (bus jolts over bump in road) see-full of holes” I guess you had to be there.

Did I pack my wellies?


It was all Munkeh's idea...

Eventually it came time to seek out munch before the evenings jolly, and Eddie Rockets American Diner was simply too cheesy to pass by. The food was exactly what you expect in Dublin-fabulous, and so was the atmosphere. I love this place, I just wish I could breathe. We then headed over to the Sugarclub, arriving a little early so popped into a nearby pub (and lets face it, there’s always a nearby pub in Dublin) for a quick bevvy. As we ambled back to the doors a short while later we found Marshy outside, and he duly informed us that doors would in fact be an hour later than what the ticket says. Hmn. Seeing as the queue had started to appear as we stood chatting we decided that another quick one was not going to happen, and that we would stay here in the cold for the duration. It wasn’t really that much of a hardship, as the doors to the venue were glass, and just in reception were monitors detailing the cctv around the inside. Inside the venue. Get me?

forking cheek!

Once inside, we are greeted with a very pretty venue, like an old theatre. Tiered seating going up the back, tables in front of those with lamps, and a small ‘dancefloor’ area by the stage. Phlegmed up or not, alcohol was needed so I headed up to the bar at the back, passing Colin on the way & offering compliments on a good choice of venue. On returning I bump into Jon and get the lowdown on Fridays debacle. Poor dear had a nap & overslept the Belfast gig. Feeling guilty he hotfooted it over, after their set had ended, not having the heart to tell them that he’d missed it. Unfortunately he was rumbled by someone on the forum. He’s never going to live that one down. Bless.

Back down the rather spacious front, we are joined by a couple who introduce themselves as Joff & Liz, who had spied us at a few gigs previous and decided to say hello. They informed us that they would also be going to, well, pretty much all the remaining gigs on the tour. I like them already. Just then, Allie comes bustling in the door, extremely late due to misplacing her ticket. Just enough time to get a rundown on Belfast from her before the boys take to the stage.

Dressed once again completely in black complimenting the plush red velvet surroundings (rarrr) Greg notes that the venue is like “Elvis in Vegas” and illustrates by singing “Just one cornetto…” to the tune of ‘Its Now or Never’ from the 80’s Cornetto ads (if you’re too young to remember - youtube them!) Far too many people still sitting around as though in a jazz club, a stark contrast to the antics of a certain frontman whose enthusiasm was causing his IEM pack to continually fly out of his back pocket. Remedied by Robbie literally gaffer taping his arse, much to the amusement of the ladies nearby, which I am sure you’ll appreciate.

bum deal

Half time yielded the obligatory guitar swap, this time for a white gibson ES 335 (from 8th Feb 1996) I shall dispell the myth that I am a guitar geek - Robbie told us what it was. The fact that it was nice, and it was white, was all I needed to know. “Thats almost like guitar porn” - Catherine later muses, if there was such a thing, I agree. And although the floor area were now nicely bopping away, Aaron decides to go for a wander to shake things up a little further back where everyone was still rooted to their ‘cinema’ style seats. I couldn’t see what he did from where I was, but I bet it was cheeky. Everyone still appeared to enjoy it even if they were sitting down. Personally I don’t know how they can, but each to their own.

The gig flew past before I knew it, these sets are far too short. I guess I shouldn’t complain as they are a ridiculously cheap band to see, at least compared to what I am used to anyway. Back to the bar, and as I am ordering some drinks a chap who is doing the same asks if we enjoyed the gig, as he’d seen us down the front bopping away & guesses we must be big fans. I hardly need to tell him that we are as my accent obviously gives away the fact that we are not local. Did I ever mention that I love it in Ireland? I adore their friendliness, and it doesn’t stop there as a girl approaches me & introduces herself with the fabulous (or unfortunate, depending on your outlook) name of Sinead O’Connor. Recognising me from reading my blog, we have a gossip about all things Delays. Sweet.

stuck on you

I finally manage to head back down to the posse on the dancefloor, finding them all in hysterics from listening to Jon’s exquisite storytelling. Ailsa & myself do however manage to render him almost speechless by telling him a Delays factoid that he didn’t know, so shocked by the revelation he even had to go and ask Robbie if it was true. I was enjoying the fact that the venue and the bar seemed to be staying open a while for us to chill, but just as this thought entered my head the staff began to get everyone to drink up & be on their way. Damnit. I had seen Aaron flitting about in the venue all night chatting to numerous people, and I had purposely kept a low profile, not wanting to get too near any of them in my sniffly state. You can probably already guess that I am about to tell you that I failed dismally. When our posse ambled into reception to order taxis who should I run into standing there larger than life but our very own pocket-sized Elvis in Vegas. I could do a Michael Jackson & cover my face with a hankie, except I don’t have a clean one. I jokingly say that I am expecting to see him busking in the airport tomorrow when all the planes get grounded from the horrendous weather. He hopes not, as they have to get back to Blightly to do more filming of Hooray. Hmnn, but didn’t you do that already?

Taxi’s rapidly acquired thankfully by all who run outside into the storm, and as we pull up to our hotel we see flashing lights from the road, and the taxi driver says “oh it looks like your hotel is on fire…”

The Black Parade

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“At any moment you’re gonna see me go arse over tit”- Greg


It couldn’t have been more perfect - a Delays gig on my Birthday. Even if it was in Nottingham, on a weeknight when most of my friends can’t come…and I was driving so couldn’t have a drink…hmmn…on reflection maybe it could have been just a touch more perfect, but for once I’m not going to complain. A rarity I know, but I am a compulsive perfectionist, and if I didn’t have something to complain about I may just spontaneously combust. And someone would have to clean it up. Met up with Ailsa on our designated carpark after several calls questioning Mr TomTom’s wisdom regarding one way streets. Upon final arrival was greeted with sugary goodies, and Ailsa had also decided to make large stickers for her & Allie to wear advertising the fact that it was my Birthday, not to mention forcing me to wear a huge bright pink ‘its my Birthday’ pinbadge as well. Guaranteed to illicit many stares, a few well wishes, but sadly no drinks due to being motor vehicle reliant tonight. Roll on the Dublin Weekender, thats all I say!

Proper Bo

Now Google says that Bodega holds some 300 people, but it actually looked smaller than the Bristol Louisiana gig!! Not a bad venue though, nice pub downstairs with the gig room upstairs as per most of the other establishments on this jaunt. We made ourselves at home in the bar, which was filling up quite nicely, and waited for Allie & Paul to land. We did the usual reminisce of gigs gone past, and how amusing it was that Scarlet Soho were sitting in the bar and no-one else knew who they were. Or even noticed when Colin walked past. Are these people actually going to the gig upstairs? Do they even have fans in Nottingham? There was certainly no queue for the upstairs door, just outside the main entrance. Allie decided that, as it was nearly time for doors to open, in true Brit style we should go and start ‘a queue’. What is it with Brits that they never want to go first? No sooner had we gone to stand by the door than people began to gather. We hadn’t been there more than a few minutes when Colin & Rowly wandered out the door, and Colin wished me ‘Happy Birthday’ for the first of about 54 times that he would wish me Happy Birthday that evening. What a gent. They then headed to the Pit & Pendulum opposite, an over-the-top gothic pub which truly has to be seen to be believed. Perhaps they were checking it out for future gigs, given their fondness of dressing up for halloween and all that.

The stakes are high

They're not with me...

It took no time at all for the venue to fill up, and fill up it did-I have no idea where all these people came from, but it was marvellous to see. The curiosity and the vibe for these boys only grows and grows, and it makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside because they deserve it. Tonight would be my second viewing of Scarlet Soho, and I like what I hear still - particularly their ‘glam rock’ inspired ‘Programmed to Perfection’ - sometimes I wonder if I was born in the wrong musical decade. Slightly dismayed to witness a smoke machine bellowing out its poison during their set, but the gods were looking favourably on me for my Birthday & it was nuked before the boys came on.

In the excitement of the evening I had actually forgotten about the events of a few nights ago in Northampton, where I’d been named & shamed for dissing Greg’s ‘hole-y’ white shirt. I was about to be reminded big style, as he stepped onstage dressed completely in black and looking every inch the gorgeous rock star. Ailsa couldn’t contain her laughter, and I had to hide my face for several moments in order to compose myself.

Pack shot

I don’t know how they manage NOT to do themselves an injury on such tiny stages, there always seems barely enough room to stand with wires everywhere & protruding objects a-plenty, and it wasn’t long before Greg commented on some metal bars screwed to the floor: “at any moment you’re gonna see me go arse over tit!” Setlist begins as previous with LTC & Touchdown, followed by Greg introducing the “song about chavs” to Aaron’s headshake “we’re not doing the song about chavs?” Nope. Hideaway. “Are we doing the chav song now?” Nope. Hooray. Introduced of course with a lightswitching anecdote about OCD “You see, at the time it was REALLY angsty, but telling you all about it now I just feel like a dick” Finally we get This Towns Religion, sounding fabulous as always. An audience member shouts for Colin to do a bass solo, after Greg asks the soundesk to adjust the bass in his ear, but unfortunately he declined the request. During Nearer Than Heaven Greg’s guitar makes a bid for freedom as the strap spectacularly falls apart, and a quick switch yields a guitar that isn’t…quite…in…tune…ooops…well, not many people know Keep It Simple, so maybe they won’t have noticed!

Ronny ready for his close-up

During more tuning we’re asked again to “make some noise” and tonights crowd had the stamina to keep it going for the designated length! Although they weren’t the jumping type, the Nottingham crowd was surprisingly vocal indeed! After the encore I get a Birthday shout-out from Greg, followed by Panic Attacks, which I think has rapidly become some sort of cult Delays classic-each time I see that song it gets an even bigger reception from the crowd and tonight was the loudest I’ve seen so far. A firm favourite in the set, and I have to admit to liking it more than I did when I first heard it. Quick as a flash it was all over, and I barely had time to catch my breath when I was quite literally jumped on by Maxine, who I had almost forgotten was coming tonight! Long-time no see girl! She had actually almost forgotten that she was coming to the gig herself-sometimes I wonder what goes on in that head of hers. We wander over to merch, and spend half an hour deciding which size tee would fit her boobs. Sadly, not a problem I ever have. Ailsa manages to get her drumstick which Rowly had remembered, and we have a quick chat to Stu & Amy from Scarlet Soho “What a stroke of luck that you get to see Scarlet Soho on your Birthday eh?” quips Stu.

Huggin' to the Max

We then wandered down to the bar below as the staff upstairs were making those ‘will you go home now’ faces at us. It wasn’t long before they boys began milling around, mostly hanging out in the corridor which led to a weird sheltered outdoor-indoor area for the smokers. In passing on the way to the ladies, we spy Aaron, and he asks if I’ve enjoyed my Birthday “Of course I have” I say, “I’m here seeing you guys!” “Well, I never like to take anything for granted” he replies. Bless. He fiddles with his hair and says he’s thinking of changing it. I suggest pink, to which he concludes might look good on some people, but also has the potential to look really shit. I offer up the suggestion of stripes, and motion this with my hand close to his head, at the same time he decides to move resulting in my finger connecting with his eye! After feigning immense pain, I offer up a million apologies and quickly remember my full bladder, slinking off in the direction of the ladies.

Upon return Colin wishes me Happy Birthday yet again, and I ask if they are looking forward to their Ireland jaunt, which he says they very much are. I tell him that I’ve checked out the Sugarclub on the web, and like what I see. He says that it is on a recommendation from Rowly that they are playing there. It is at this point I spy a young chick who is nervously trying to get Greg’s attention whilst he’s chatting to an older grey-haired chap. As they were talking about football I wondered whether I should warn her that particular conversation could take a while. No need as her efforts were noted, and she began a slightly drunken but rather sweet array of compliments regarding the gig which was “reallyreallyfab even though I was at the back and couldn’t see really so I got on a table and I only really came with my friend who reallyreallylikesyou but she’s too shy to come over so I said I would cos you were reallyreallygood and I wanted to get her ticket signed for her where’s the leadsinger?”
Greg: “……”
Us: *stifled laughter*
Greg: “um, thats me”
Girl: “great-can you sign this?”
and off she skips back into the bar. Immediately everyone in the vicinity bursts into fits of laughter.

Stir crazy

“Hey come check out our dressing room!” Now I know its my Birthday but really, I’m not THAT type of fan *ahem* With the usual cheeky grin he takes us just round the corner to a small door which is slightly ajar, and as he pushes it open a little more we see the reason for the amusement. It was basically nothing more than what looked like a manky supply cupboard with random bottles of cleaning solution on shelves, a small table and a toilet at the opposite end. It looked like you could only fit 2 people in at a time, and Marshy was perched on a crate trying to re-arrange a sandwich on the small table. Even a lesser band would have thrown a diva strop at having to put up with that kind of treatment, whereas these guys just laugh it off as part of the rock n roll experience. Even poor Amy from Scarlet Soho had to get ready in the ladies loos, as Kat then told us, because there was nowhere else. Living the dream ain’t what it used to be. We leave Marshy to finish his ‘dinner’ and Ailsa asks for a festivals update, he reels off the list of confirmed, unconfirmed, penciled in & wishlist. Total festival whores, I swear if the organisers let them, they would even play Download - a bit of black dye on those floppy fringes they could pull off the emo kid look, no-one would suspect a thing!

Prrrrrrrrrr-ing on an angle

I ask the age old forum question about why Girls wasn’t on the setlist this time, and its basically because they are concentrating on playing the new songs that have potential to be singles, getting people familiar with them, rather than playing too many tracks at once that people wouldn’t know. I say that we do know them though. “yes, I know YOU know the songs, but have you looked behind you?” erm, fair point. But he was still insisting that the will be doing a 4 hour set next time of everything. I don’t think even I have the stamina for that! Suddenly the young chick from earlier appeared once again “Whats you name?” “Greg” “Cool” and bounds off once more. She’s not gonna remember any of this in the morning. Speaking of mornings, it was time for Ailsa to remind everyone that we all have to work in the morning, and we really should get going, especially as she had to drive back to MK. Greg asked her where she works, and Ailsa tells him that she works at the Rolls Royce Enthusiasts Club “Oh, are you an enthusiast or is it just your job?” She explains that it is in fact her job, but that the cars are kinda nice. “Well give my regards to the Rolls Royce enthusiasts then!” and with that it was time for a round of Birthday hugs, a quick photo op, (Greg: “but how is she going to do it with all those mugs in her hands?” Ailsa: “I’m female, we excel in multi-tasking!”) and an arm wrestle “I’ll do a Nepoleon then!” before we left him wandering off, typically, in search of some tea. And with a quick goodbye to Colin & Aaron (with more Happy Birthdays from Colin, “just to make sure”), not forgetting Rowly on the way out who was propping up the bar with some fine females. As we headed into the cold evening to part ways Ailsa decided to point out that, seeing as it was well past midnight it meant that technically, technically I had failed to obtain a Gilbert-shaped hug on my Birthday.

Beyatch.

Its true-I have stripey socks and everything

“Drumsticks don’t grow on trees you know! Oh actually, yeah they do….” - Rowly


Well, Northampton isn’t exactly the hub of the universe on a Sunday evening, and (no offence to any n’hamptonites) not exactly the hub of anything. But still, there we were at the nicely sized and rather overly purple venue in the middle of nowhere! Bravo to the nice McD’s employee who gave us the seemingly difficult directions to the place, we’d never have found it with my navigational skills alone!! We wanted to pop down there before meeting Bev & Jim for munch, as we had a little item for the boys that we didn’t want to lug around during the show.

Actin' funny, but I don't know why 'Scuse me while I kiss the sky

After playing a little game of hide & seek (don’t ask!) and taking a few daylight photos of the venue, we contemplated ringing the doorbell in the hopes that we wouldn’t be scowled upon by some burly beefcake who assumed we might be groupies. No such need, as the indoor smoking ban yielded a Gilbert-shaped victim. Gift deposited & enthusiastically received, we enquired about the Scotland leg, which by all accounts was amazing, their close call with the smashed windscreen, and the extremely pissed off woman in the Mercedes they bumped into. Perhaps she was just narked that they didn’t offer her any gig tickets as compensation. Of course not forgetting the Hull earthquake, and the intense heat at Cambridge - telling us that after the gig he’d literally wrung out enough sweat from his tee to fill a half-pint glass. What a pleasant image to leave us with. Except it wasn’t the last image for our brains as he couldn’t possibly leave us without pointing out the ‘graffiti on the wall’ opposite the venue, that “says it all really, simple, direct”

As you were

Feeding time at the zoo

What was soon to become a tradition on this tour-we head to the local Weatherspoons pub, chosen because a)it was the only pub open, and b)because it was called The Moon On The Square (I kid you not) to check out its gastro delights (or cheesy chips & coke for the commoner). Beverley & Jim deposited a huge bag of Cadburys our way, and amused us with family anecdotes while we ate. Later we showed them where the venue was, as they would be coming out to play a little later than us. I of course had a dozen mugs to purchase for the ‘International Delays Community’, so headed straight over to Kat on merch. It was there that I spied the unmissably large signed drumskins, which I learned could be acquired by basically spending a shitload of money in the shop. Which I did. I also learned that Aaron designed the tees. Now I understand everything.

Smug mug

Tonight was to be my first viewing of Scarlet Soho, and they certainly didn’t disappoint, sending me right back to the 80’s without the worry of finding something with shoulder pads to wear when I got there. Or the big hair. Finally a support band I can enjoy!

And after the blistering heat of the last few gigs that I missed this one was positively arctic in comparison. Aided even more by the large fan that blew across the stage, and thankfully it provided a much appreciated breeze on us as well as the band, “We feel like we’re in a Guns ‘n’ Roses video!” Setlist appeared to be the same as previous gigs with new song Earth Gave Me You still present. Before introducing this “the UK only bonus track” Greg commented that he appeared to be “standing on some kind of trap door, the venue owner up there keeps looking at me every time I swear!” (makes gesture of a lever being pulled) “Fuck him!” came the obvious reply from his brother.

What can I say about the new tune? Don’t get me wrong, I really like all the new stuff so far, really I do, no question. But when Greg stepped upto the mic and immediately launched into the soaring falsetto we know so well, I had trouble standing up! I have missed it so much in the new material. Its kinda like ice cream. I love ice cream, I can eat it until it bleeds out of my eyeballs. But what truly makes ice cream that little bit more orgasmically divine is a bit of chocolate sauce on top. The new stuff so far is like ice cream without the chocolate, but Earth Gave Me you says, fuck the ice cream just give me the chocolate sauce bottle instead. More like old-school Delays, from the opening melody I knew I’d love it before he even started to sing.

Juicy

New performance tactic due to the lowness of the recent stages saw Aaron step off & wander into the audience around the front. Not to be outdone a little later Greg decided to have a go at the same thing. He told the crowd that the rest of the boys keep making fun of his guitar, saying its out of tune when the little tuning widget was clearly telling him it was not, “and anyway stop making up your own tunes over there!” to Aaron “oh you’d be nothing without me!” came the modest reply of course! A girl behind me shouted for Bedroom Scene “oh we can’t remember how to play that one anymore” but they are doing a massive tour for the album soon “with a 4 hour set of ALL our material, and maybe some Abba thrown in as well”

Of course, no gig adventure is complete until I’ve either gotten horribly lost or made a complete tit of myself, and it was certainly a humdinger tonight. Previously, during the Scotland dates, Greg has been seen sporting attire of a slightly scruffy nature, namely a white shirt brandishing several holes. Now, as I am not one to shy away from my own opinions I had mentioned this on the forum. Several times. And I wasn’t very complimentary. Now, the offending article was still being worn tonight, up until the encore when it was finally ditched. Beverley, who was standing to the left of me, wasted no time in shouting “Where’s your cardigan gone?!” to which Greg replies quick as a flash: “Are you the one who’s been dissing my shirt on the forum??” I could have easily gotten away with my innocent blank expression, except for the fact that my entire entourage made sure the whole of the Soundhaus knew it was, in fact, me. On the front row there is nowhere hide. Just get on with the encore will you. And stop looking at me like that, you know I am right.

Hole of the moon

Afterwards I went to collect my bounty from Kat who had very kindly been looking after it whilst I bopped away, and Ailsa pondered the possibility of somehow obtaining a drumstick. The wooden ones, not the kind that come from chickens. We smooched over to Rowly to ask, and he said that he’d given away so many that it was becoming quite expensive, and that they “don’t grow on trees you know! Oh actually, yeah they do….” but he did have some crappy ones at home he was going to bring in on Tuesday & sign for merch shop giveaways. He also had high praise for Kat for her initiative, as the signed stuff was her idea to get more people to buy their shit, and it was working.

After I gave him crappy directions to where the toilets were, we looked around to see if Iona had come back in from her cig break, and I see the gaggle of people who were previously surrounding Greg had now dispersed and he was talking to Allie alone. He glanced over and saw me start to giggle, and I bounded over with a comedy sprint squealing “I’m sorry I’m sorry I dissed your shirt!!” to much laughter from anyone in earshot. He said it was ok, and that the shirt was “well travelled & seen alot of action” judging by the holes I can well believe it, but it isn’t exactly an attractive robe for a rock star. I asked about his recent cold, which thankfully was virtually gone, but that he’d now developed a dodgy hip, probably from the footballing days, and will be “hobbling around like Old Man Gilbert before long” demonstrating this by hobbling with an imaginary walking stick. Bless.

Trapped in a Melody

By this point we needed to find Iona & haul our asses back home for work in the morning, so we bid farewell and headed outside, where we found Bev & Jim, along with the missing Iona. Whilst she’d been having a cig, Aaron had been doing the same, and she was rather chuffed that he had remembered her from earlier & they had a little chat about the gig. Beverley was wanting to steal a poster that was behind a perspex postboard, and had asked Aaron to whip it out for her. And to get the poster as well (sorry, Jims joke!!) We all took a few snaps with each other, said our final goodbyes and headed off into the night.

Frisbee

A few days later, I get a message from Ailsa. She had noticed that the setlist her sister got from the gig had something rather interesting on it. What initially appeared to be black lines between the songs was in fact black marker pen blanking out something underneath. On closer inspection you could actually make out what had been crossed off:

Long Time Coming
(there was an accident on the A1)

Touchdown
(The American word for TRY)

Hideaway
(was a bad early 90s dance act… maybe)

Hooray
(for boobies)

This Town’s Religion
(was Jedi until the last census)

Love Made Visible
(A.K.A Porn for deaf people)

Pieces
(of cake)

Nearer Than Heaven
(further from hell)

Earth Gave Me To You
(and God gave rock and roll to everyone else, seems like a fair choice)

Panic Attacks
(at the disco)

Valentine
(is above the obligatory encore line)
_____________________________

Lost In A Melody
(found in translation)

You & Me
(were working as waitresses in a cocktail bar)

Classic.

“We’re for hire. Like the A-team” - Greg


Another town that my SatNav doesn’t like, but fortunately for me the Bristol driving community were surprisingly patient & good natured. Even when I accidently went down a one-way street the wrong way. This evenings gig would see me once again without my partner in crime, Ailsa, instead I was to be looked after by Phil, who I met in the reception of Travel Inn, my casa for the evening. Phil had unfortunately missed the gigs in November by inconveniently being on an exchange trip to America, and was scarily excited about getting to see them again.

Bridge of Spies

We went for the usual food forage amongst some classy joints nearby, before getting horribly lost trying to find the modest venue. The bar area downstairs was open, so thankfully we wouldn’t have to queue in the now sub zero temperatures. We went to sit with Allie & Paul, and it wasn’t long before the place was heaving. A number of familiar faces were milling about, not least on the table next to us. “How long has Colin been sitting there?!”

Phil it up to the top

Eventually we were let upstairs in what has to be the smallest venue I have ever seen in my life! Most people have living rooms bigger than this. It is going to be an interesting one. I waste no time in taking advantage of the fact that I wasn’t driving home later, and arm myself with a bevy. Mes Memoires supporting once again, and I still don’t get them. But we were all highly amused by a tall guy with an astoundingly huge red barnet enthusiastically bopping away to them as though he had heard them a million times before. And I kid you not, we actually had 3, count em, 3 guys on the front row tonight! Phil & Paul either side of me, and yet another guy down the opposite end. Its madness I tell ya!

A Mes Man

Put it away-you don't know where its been

Of course, owing to its size, you just know that it is going to be a hot one. Bastard hot & skanky, but absolutely amazing. The crowd were well up for it, the boys were giving it their all, and Phil was beside himself at how close we were to the action. No barrier, no heavies, and even the mic stands were jutting out into the audience. It was the mic stand that gave us the first comedy moment of the evening, as just before the first track ended Greg’s began to slowly and smoothly slide down to midget height. He watched it with an amused look for a second…then bent down & finished the last line before adjusting it back. A couple of songs in, and it was already a sweat fest. Greg took great satisfaction in frequently saying “Sweaty & dirrrty” in a low throaty rasp that was part farmer Giles, part dirty old pervert.

Prrrrrrrr (what? You expected another comment?)

I think we had the female incarnation of Jon there as well, who delighted in shouting “You fucking ROCK! a number of times, which Greg responded with “Can you please tell everyone else that!” and local twang “gurt lush” which he had trouble understanding “What are you saying? I just hear voices-I feel like Derek Acorah!” This Towns Religion dropped into the set was a nice surprise, I always love to hear that one, and even the bar staff right at the back were clambering on stools to watch this intriguing bunch that had invaded their workplace. I just hope that when they move back to slightly bigger venues the setlist will increase sightly, as it just seems to be over much too soon.

I grab more refreshments and we all cool off by the balcony for a while, before heading down to the very pleasant bar below. We pass Colin on the way down, and he says they might venture into the bar later, but that they had some interviews/people to chat to first, so wasn’t sure. Seeing as all of us, except Phil, were staying in Bristol that evening, we made the bar our home for the remainder of the night. I got chatting to the Mes Men, who were delightful, Karen the Pinstripe Princess who I hope is going to be able to make it to another gig this tour, and Paul V with his exquisite goatee filled us in on the legendary Big Jeff. Now, Big Jeff is a stalwart of Bristols music scene, with a passion for music that is unrivaled anywhere else. Basically, if he attends your gig, you know that you are brilliant. It is the ultimate stamp of approval. And given the fact that he spent most of the gig waving his t-shirt above his head makes me think that he quite likes the boys.

Legend

Eventually as the witching hour passed, the bar staff were making less subtle hints that they wanted us to leave, so we headed out into the freezing cold. Marshy & co were outside loading the van, so Allie went over to say adios, I crossed the street to get a shot of the venue, and to chat with Paul & his friend who were waiting for a taxi there. It was too dark to get a good pic, so I wandered back across and found Greg excitedly telling the guys that they had just been confirmed to play Wireless. “Which day?” came the universal chorus from all of us “Pffft! I don’t know. I just sit at home writing songs, I just get told when we go on tour & stuff!” I can well believe that. I did once have to tell him where they were playing next. But all was good in the world now that he had his woolly hat, which he was now trying to tuck errant hair strands underneath.

Greg: “My mum knit this hat for me!”
Klair: “No way, you’re pulling my leg!”
Greg: “No for real. She’s gonna knit me a whole outfit!”

Allie asked if she could give it a squidge, in order to test the ‘quality & craftsmanship’ to which he obliged. I decided that a second opinion was needed. Purely for scientific reasons you understand. I commented on the appearance of Big Jeff, and he said that Rowly had mentioned the story about him, and were honoured by his presence. Although he did admit that having a big haired topless bloke bouncing around at the front was “a little distracting”. Paul asked the age old question of why Colin never seems to get sweaty “I have no idea, he’s abnormal. He never even sweats when we play football!” By now Rowly had wandered up to the van, and Greg made fun of the abnormally large goalkeeper-type gloves he was wrestling onto his hands. Equipment was now loaded, it was time to go, and with hugs all round we left them to finish off the head count (Aaron appeared to be awol…) We parted company with Allie & Paul down the road, and as we headed across the misty square Phil, who had never met the boys until now, uttered only one word: “Wow”

“Welcome to my world” I smirked.

Badge of honour