Another fantastic gathering on Monday night. All this lovely weather (ironic that the Azores High has arrived within a couple of days of the useless muppets at the Met Office forecasting ten wet summers) meant that nobody was out spraying, and apart from John and Mindy, we had a full turnout.
Not sure that we actually did anything from our official setlist, but we manged to waste two and a bit hours having a lovely time playing anything else that sprang to mind. I think we touched on Sad Cafe, Herb Albert, Santana....blimey, the list was endless.
News that the bassist is now a Grandfather and that the huge pianist has been recommended a new hip confirms that we truly are Old Gits.
I'd just like to say that Grandfatherhood has mellowed and moderated Dave's language...I'd like to say it, but.........
Welcome to the website of the Thomas Lord Old Gits, mid-Hampshire's answer to Chumbawumba and Earth Wind and Fire, except that we're not an anarchic workers' collective, we're not American, and we do covers.
Wednesday, 26 June 2013
Monday, 24 June 2013
Heard on National Radio (part 2)
Who would have though that, only weeks after John's appearance on BBC Radio 4's 'Farming Today', another member of the TLOGS would appear on the very same Saturday Morning programme?
Listen here , but be quick; it's only up for a few days.
How many bands of any type and calibre can claim to have had 28% of their members on Farming Today?
Listen here , but be quick; it's only up for a few days.
How many bands of any type and calibre can claim to have had 28% of their members on Farming Today?
Tuesday, 18 June 2013
Seen in the Press, part 45
At last, we're front cover material! Well, up in the top left corner, anyway. And I'm not sure about the 'tweedy' bit, but we're on the front cover in one form or another. Inside the July issue of The Field is an article on middle-aged rock bands, and the TLOGS feature heavily. Some very good pictures, too. So rush down to your local newsagent as soon as you can to get your copy. You'll find it on the top shelf, between Razzle and Humungous Jubblies. Apparently.
And, no, that's not Boris Johnstone on the cover, it's Lord Percy. No, not the Blackadder one; the real one. Yes, there is a real Lord Percy.
.
Saturday, 1 June 2013
Oh dear.
This CD has been produced.
Apparently, it is a recording of a recent gig. Apparently, it is somewhat less than flattering.
I thought it would pass the time while out spraying, so I popped it into the hugely expensive hi-fi in the John Deere. The CD player thought about it, whirred, chuntered, and then spat it back out, with the words 'NO MUSIC' on the display panel.
Bit harsh, I thought.
Apparently, it is a recording of a recent gig. Apparently, it is somewhat less than flattering.
I thought it would pass the time while out spraying, so I popped it into the hugely expensive hi-fi in the John Deere. The CD player thought about it, whirred, chuntered, and then spat it back out, with the words 'NO MUSIC' on the display panel.
Bit harsh, I thought.
Friday, 31 May 2013
Thursday, 30 May 2013
New pictures of the Warwick wedding (last year).
While at Coombe Bissett, we were given a selection of pictures from the wedding we played up in Warwick - very good they are too.
Ian setting up - a very useful pic to print off and keep to help non-drummers given the job of assembling the kit!
Lovely arty pic, taken from the stage, of the happy couple.
Now, John. About that shirt......
Grooooovy headlining..............bad acid, man........
And finally:
Dancing the night away......thanks to the Thomas Lord Old Gits!
Ian setting up - a very useful pic to print off and keep to help non-drummers given the job of assembling the kit!
I'm sure we had more people dancing than this picture would suggest - or have we strayed into a photo shoot for the Boden catalogue?
Lovely arty pic, taken from the stage, of the happy couple.
Now, John. About that shirt......
Grooooovy headlining..............bad acid, man........
And finally:
Dancing the night away......thanks to the Thomas Lord Old Gits!
Monday, 27 May 2013
The Coombe Bissett wedding
Once again, the TLOGS bravely ventured out of the SO24 postcode, out of the parish - why, even out of the County, and set off for South Wiltshire. Thank goodness we had had someone who can pack a trailer safely for the long drive.
It was a fairly early start (for some of us), and most of the world and his wife seemed to be heading the same way, so Salisbury proved to be a good spot to catch up on a bit of sleep, do some office work, and knock off those last few hundred pages of Lord of the Rings. One day someone will suggest a by-pass. Hold on a minute....
Once we got there, we found a lovely warm marquee, which turned out to be not for us, and a faily cool and aged barn, complete with stage. There had a been a wonderful Spinal Tap moment - Tod's requested stage dimensions had got lost in Hampshire/Wiltshire translation, and a slightly more compact version of what we had hoped for had been assembled for us.
But we are the TLOGS. We have played Bramdean Village Hall, on a stage 20 foot by about four - so we are the masters of squeezing into small spaces. Ooo er missus.
By late lunchtime, we were set up, and headed back for a snooze. It's an age thing.
We reassembled at about seven thirty, planning an eight thirty start, but, as is usual, that's not how it turned out. Things got delayed. The guests were having a lovely relaxed evening, so our start time drifted...and drifted.... luckily we had Dave's tales of Different Place's - sorry, Mark Vennis' Different Place's trip to Cannes to keep us entertained. An outbreak of namedropping that would humble even Capt Kidneystones.
After one final burst of confusion ("What do you mean you're waiting for us to start? We're waiting for you to tell us when to start...."), we kicked off after the happy couple had had their first dance.
How did it go? Well, the barn stayed pretty empty for the first half, so we were effectively playing background music for the marquee, but by the second half, we had a respectable crowd dancing on the fairly unforgiving concrete floor.
And how did we play? Once again, we were tight. Jack was superb: despite only having run through the whole setlist perhaps three times, he nailed the vast majority of the songs perfectly, and what wasn't perfect was still fantastic. Some of the off-beat sophisticated/syncopated fills had us amateurs in a panic at losing the beat, followed by broad smiles all round as everything matched up again at the end of the bar. Why, we even forgave him being a veggie (which he sheepishly announced as the burgers were being handed out at half time). And it takes a lot for farmers to accept veggies. Well done, Jack.
Other highlights included a panic inspection of the fusebox in the corner, only to find that the caterers had set up the barbeque just the other side of the wall, and the sizzling sounds and burning smell were not down to us after all. Another scary moment was when Roland the electric piano decided to have a senior moment and refused to stop playing all the recently depressed keys. Luckily, it was just after Fix You, so the ensuing din wasn't noticed - niether was the complete lack of keyboards as it was turned off and allowed to fire up again. I feel a hot credit card trip to Nevada Music coming on.
We were done by 00:30, and the traditional packing up hour was swift'n'easy. Some of the other halves were more useful (i.e., vertical) than others. The bride and groom asked the huge pianist for his autograph - he wasn't sure if they were taking the piss, but he was so smitten by the bride he would have done anything.
A fabulous drive back over the chalk downlands in the full moon brought us back to Shed 3C, where the trailer was tucked away for the night, and following the traditional Crunchy Nut Cornflake frenzy, bed was reached by 02:30.
Another top TLOGS gig.
It was a fairly early start (for some of us), and most of the world and his wife seemed to be heading the same way, so Salisbury proved to be a good spot to catch up on a bit of sleep, do some office work, and knock off those last few hundred pages of Lord of the Rings. One day someone will suggest a by-pass. Hold on a minute....
Once we got there, we found a lovely warm marquee, which turned out to be not for us, and a faily cool and aged barn, complete with stage. There had a been a wonderful Spinal Tap moment - Tod's requested stage dimensions had got lost in Hampshire/Wiltshire translation, and a slightly more compact version of what we had hoped for had been assembled for us.
But we are the TLOGS. We have played Bramdean Village Hall, on a stage 20 foot by about four - so we are the masters of squeezing into small spaces. Ooo er missus.
By late lunchtime, we were set up, and headed back for a snooze. It's an age thing.
We reassembled at about seven thirty, planning an eight thirty start, but, as is usual, that's not how it turned out. Things got delayed. The guests were having a lovely relaxed evening, so our start time drifted...and drifted.... luckily we had Dave's tales of Different Place's - sorry, Mark Vennis' Different Place's trip to Cannes to keep us entertained. An outbreak of namedropping that would humble even Capt Kidneystones.
After one final burst of confusion ("What do you mean you're waiting for us to start? We're waiting for you to tell us when to start...."), we kicked off after the happy couple had had their first dance.
How did it go? Well, the barn stayed pretty empty for the first half, so we were effectively playing background music for the marquee, but by the second half, we had a respectable crowd dancing on the fairly unforgiving concrete floor.
And how did we play? Once again, we were tight. Jack was superb: despite only having run through the whole setlist perhaps three times, he nailed the vast majority of the songs perfectly, and what wasn't perfect was still fantastic. Some of the off-beat sophisticated/syncopated fills had us amateurs in a panic at losing the beat, followed by broad smiles all round as everything matched up again at the end of the bar. Why, we even forgave him being a veggie (which he sheepishly announced as the burgers were being handed out at half time). And it takes a lot for farmers to accept veggies. Well done, Jack.
Other highlights included a panic inspection of the fusebox in the corner, only to find that the caterers had set up the barbeque just the other side of the wall, and the sizzling sounds and burning smell were not down to us after all. Another scary moment was when Roland the electric piano decided to have a senior moment and refused to stop playing all the recently depressed keys. Luckily, it was just after Fix You, so the ensuing din wasn't noticed - niether was the complete lack of keyboards as it was turned off and allowed to fire up again. I feel a hot credit card trip to Nevada Music coming on.
We were done by 00:30, and the traditional packing up hour was swift'n'easy. Some of the other halves were more useful (i.e., vertical) than others. The bride and groom asked the huge pianist for his autograph - he wasn't sure if they were taking the piss, but he was so smitten by the bride he would have done anything.
A fabulous drive back over the chalk downlands in the full moon brought us back to Shed 3C, where the trailer was tucked away for the night, and following the traditional Crunchy Nut Cornflake frenzy, bed was reached by 02:30.
Another top TLOGS gig.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)