'Facebook'

It would appear that the Thomas Lord Old Gits can be 'found on Facebook', whatever that means.

Gourmet Nite

For the last rehearsal of the year, Shed 3b became Chez d'Threebie, and we were treated to a veritable feast of beer, cheese, beer, biscuits and beer. Nomnomnom. It was all to ensure we survived the six 'till ten shift we put in to do the whole set before Saturday. All seemed to go well. Dan thought he'd move down to the West End of the Shed, and promptly forgot the opening chords to Pinball wizard. Tha'll learn 'im. By the way, Stella and quality Brie do NOT mix.

Happy Christmas

Sixty visits to the blog from Israel over Christmas Night......so that's what the Wise Men get up to while travelling.

New Years Eve Gig

This gig is still on, despite rumours to the contrary. The tent is booked, some tickets have been sold, the East Meon Double-Barrel Yah-Yahs have been persuaded to fu - sorry, celebrate the New Year some where else (somewhere rarely, rarely nice), thank goodness. Most importantly, no-one is going to be allowed to wave a sausage in an intimidatory fashion at anyone, so there should be no repeat of the minor scuffles of last year.

(This post valid as at 12 Noon, 20th December 2011).

Last rehearsal before Christmas

A fantastic gathering last night, with a real 'end of term' feel to it. A full house, a freezing cold shed 3b and the imminent arrival of the Christmas season all added up to a top evening.

Highlights included an outbreak of comedic impersonations: Dan did Hancock, Ian did Norman Wisdom ("Mr Grimsdale! Mr Grimsdale"), Tod did Ben Elton, Charlie did Les Dawson and Dave did Jethro. Some of these impersonations were deliberate, some not.

Lowlights included a completely unjustifiable outbreak of cockney music hall ("Doing the Lambeth Walk" etc etc). God save us.

So, why all the rehearsing?

Well, there a News Year's Eve party to be entertained, of course, at our home pub.



I'm sure I speak on behalf of the whole band when I say how relieved I was to see the date of New Year's Eve thoughtfully printed on the poster, just to avoid any confusion. I thought it may have been in February this year, so that's lucky.

More rehearsals

I think we've had three more gatherings in Shed 3b; two quiet ones without the powerhouse drum'n'bass team, and then a full-on, full-house one which included a special guest appearance by our ex-guitarist Jesse. Always a delight to see him in action. I think the full turnout may be to do with the first sign of cold weather and the cost of heating. Three hours of hits from the 80/90s and today while in Shed 3b is one sure fire way to keep warm.

Rehearsals

Blimey, I think I've missed two rehearsals. There was one a couple of weeks ago, when everyone was there, but for some reason we all kept shouting at each other, even when the music (which was far too loud anyway) wasn't actually playing. I think we all had PMT except the one person properly qualified to have it.

Then last week we had a nice quiet one, with just Tod, Dan, Charlie and Mindy, running through a few on the set list to polish the harmonies. And no-one shouted at anyone.

Fantastic new pictures from the August wedding.

Another set of pictures has been sent by August's blushing bride, First up is a fantastic pic of the dancefloor, with the band in the background. A particularly poignant pic for me, because it proves that our oldest and biggest and recently-departed fan really did spend ages behind my shoulder, with (I'm told) a big grin on his face. In the pic, I'm hidden behind Dan.



Now we come to the dress code. Inevitably, but quite understandably, John misread the invite, and came in his fetching Hawaiian shirt.

The pianist, however, came in morning coat and forgot to change.






Now to the 'moody guitarists' shots. Very tasteful. It looks like they were actually concentrating here, rather than catching up on all that West Meon gossip, as they normally do when brought together.

Seen in the papers, part 65

This week's Petersfield Post.

New video

Very rare footage of Ian practicing at home here

Monday Night

A very busy session on Monday night, with the lovely Mindy on guest vocals. We ran through quite of few of the setlist, and pretty damn well, too, I thought. Mind you, 'Fix You' turned out to be a bit of a struggle for one of us.
I thought the evening's jokes were particulalry bad. And Dave was jolly cross about something. "I say you chaps," he chuckled. "I'm a trifle peeved at the moment. If I see that fellow I'll jolly well give him a clip round the ear and piece of my mind what what!" Or something like that.

One Fan Less

The Thomas Lord Old Gits Fan Club has just lost its oldest and keenest member (although he always made a hell of a fuss about the Monday night racket coming from Shed 3b...).

The 'God Bless You Ma'am/God Bless King Charles III' Tour

The first dates are in for the 2012 Tour; bizarrely, the first six take place in five weeks. Don't anyone take holidays in June!! See the tour page for details

Not one we'll be doing...

Mozart....goooood.
Trance......gooood.
Tranced Mozart.....excellent

Answer to that Buggles question

Here

Monday's rehearsal

There was a bit of a gathering on Monday. Tessa, of course, has vanished across the Atlantic, and AirCheapoBongo have apparently sent at least one piece of luggage with her. Very kind of them. Hope the rest arrives soon, TF.

Our new vocalist couldn't make it, so it turned into one of those 'Why don't we try this?' evenings. Inevitably, very little acually gets done - we did 90% of one new song, and 10% of another fifty, but a lot of fun was had.

Dave couldn't make it: he sent a text which said 'Cripes, chaps, I'm a bit held up. Probably won't make it. Pip Pip.' Of course, it didn't actually use those words; the real text will be posted on a separate page, accessed once you've proved you're over 25 and without any heart condition. Anyway, reserve bassist stood in (once he'd finished his homework, moving seamlessly from R'n'P to R'n'B.)

Maybe it's because I'm now fifty, but we didn't half sound loud. I thought one was supposed to get deafer in old age, not more sensitive.

Spotted in the papers....

Hampshire Chronicle, 13th October 2011

Unusual sightings of band and ex-band members.

Another day at Screwfix here
And there's a right cad in an open-top sportscar here

Pics from the dinner 8

So, dinner is served. Dave is missing (under the camera) and only Charlie's belly can be seen.

A thousand thanks to the Thomas Lord for looking after us so well - bearing in mind the other end of the bar was hosting a wedding reception. Well done everyone for behaving so well, and farewell (for now) and good luck to Tessa as she sets off into the world of ankle socks and performance art.

A fine evening all round.

Pics from the dinner 7

OK, just what is it about drummers? How the heck do they do it?

Pics from the dinner 6

A melancholy and temporary (we hope) farewell to our lovely singer. We think the man dressed as a marquee is staying, though. He is very intents....

Pics from the dinner 5

Did someone order an alcopup?

Difficult to say exactly how many EU regulations are being broken here.

Pics from the dinner 4

A truly massive intellect deep in thought. Or just about to pick his nose.

Pics from the Dinner 3

Hmm. Not sure what's going on here.

Pics from the dinner 2

"You only get away with wearing a blue check shirt," said the Old Farming Git to the Young Farming Git, "if you put a lampshade on your head."

Pics from the dinner

The reserve bassist has just been told that the Jack Daniels is on a tab.

The TLOGS Dinner

A few rules for Friday night.

1. Smart Casual. Or not. Or Hawaiian Lumberjack. Whatever.
2. Nothing on the menu is to be given the double entendre treatment. Back luck, Todd and John. Mind you, I hear the pork loins are very juicy.
3. There will be a wedding party at the other end of the pub. We are not to gatecrash it, claiming that we have been booked.
4. No-one, I repeat NO-ONE, is to put anything anywhere anyone else's mashed potato. Not a finger, not a sausage (literal or metaphorical), not even a juicy piece of pink pork, dripping with sensuous warm juice, trickling slowly down her chin as she licked....sorry, I got carried away there.

So best behaviour, everyone. We must get a decent new band pic, too.

Next Year's Tour

Next year's tour, at present to be called the 'God Bless You Ma'am' Tour (or the 'God Save King Charles III' Tour if certain circumstances change in the next six months) might yet have another name: The 'June Is Bursting Out All Over' Tour, due to the fact that we have five provisional bookings for next June.

The End of the Tour, and an Era

And so the 'No Passports Required' Tour finally came to an end, as a spectacular October sunset sneaked down over a fabulous party barn tucked away under the folds of Butser Hi - [GET ON WITH IT!- Ed]


Sorry. Anyway, not only was it the end of our 2011 Tour (if you ignore the planned New Year Evening Bash), it was also Tessa's last appearance with the Old Gits while she goes off across the Atlantic to The American Repository of Music Art and Culture. Hold on, that's TARMAC - that's can't be right. Anyway, even if the occasion therefore could have been slightly melancholy, we didn't show it. In fact, it was one of our best nights technically, what with Todd having melted Paypal with all his Ebaying for new speakers, mixing desks and anal cases. We now have a fully fledged plug in drummer, too. Next thing you know it'll be wireless microphones and pinkie finger tapping.

It was a very jolly birthday party, and the small but appreciative crowd seemed to like us, and we had a good time, which is what counts.

A Thursday rehearsal

We had a very productive get-together on Thursday, although, thanks to the Return of Global Warming (c. University of East Anglia, Climate Bollocks Dept) it was bloomin hot in Shed 3b. By the time all seven of us got shut in there with double-glazed doors and windows, it's gooey armpits all round. Still, with only a couple of days until our next gig, and a long time since the last one, a bit of a refresher was needed.

We also had a lively discussion of Classic Tracks of the 1980s. I particularly enjoyed Dave's carefully considered opinion of this , which went something like this: "If I ever hear that effing song on someone's effing car radio, I'll smash my way into their effing car, rip the effing stereo out and shove it so far up their effing a - " You get the point.

Perhaps this boppy little disco remix would be more pleasing.

A trip to the studio

Three-sevenths of the TLOGS visited the West Meon MegaSudios Inc., and after an evening, came up with this

Tessa on biblical form.

No rehearsal monday

We didn't get together on Monday - Todd too busy inspecting potato planting kit in Shropshire, and the rest of us too lazy to put anything together. It was probably for the best, because the huge pianist and the stand-by bassist are still sulking about
this

A little light rehearsal

A small get-together last night - Ian givin' it laaarge in Manchester, Tessa recovering from givin' it laaaarge at Bestival (although she turned up towards the end of the evening) and John givin' it reaaaly laaarge at, ahem, the Alresford Show Organisers' Committee Meeting. So Todd, Dan, Dave and Charlie were left to enjoy an evening of 'Why Don't We Try?'s.

If memory serves me well, we tried: The B-52s, the Toy Dolls, the Beatles, Mike Oldfield, Hendrix, Dylan (yuk), Tom Jones, Roxette, Haart/Bonnemassa, Chas'n'Dave, Stereophonics, some Stones....

Not sure we did a single one of our established set. News of a gig at Alresford Rugby Club in June (chickenwire moment?) and there's talk of a New year gig in West Meon.

Bookings

There's a certain amount of chaos going on in the booking department. The end of this year's 'No Passports Required' Tour seems to have been severely culled, but there has been a flurry of enquiries and bookings for next June. Nice to be so popular so far in advance.

And here's a lovely summer evening view.

TLOGS fame

Our fame is spreading. True, it's just one of the TLOGS. And we don't get a name check. And he's not talking about music. But, hey, it's a start. But is it really what Dave said? There's something effing missing.....

August Bank Holiday Part 2

And so it was on to the Flowerpots in Cheriton, for the great honour of playing on the Sunday night of the legendary beer festival.



You know it's a big gig when Dave's kit gets flown in by Chinook. Those of us who remember the sleepy little 'Pots from the mid-1980s never fail to be amazed at the size of the Beer Festival. A huge car park full to overflowing, tents, marquees, and hundreds of people from all ages and in all states of inebriation. In fact, our generous host, Paul, warned us that there could be a signal to finish early if the aforementioned inebriation got out of hand....but he hoped not.

There had obviously been a lot of soul-searching overnight, or maybe it was because Simon was with us, but we think we played our socks off.

Highlights included:

1. Strange man in beanie hat strolling in early in the set, doing a weird roller-dance, not unlike the Fatboy Slim 'Praise You' video, and then strolling back out again. Luckily, it was early in the evening, and the floor was empty.
2. The floor becoming completely packed. Thanks are due to the Triple L's (Lovely Louche Ladies) of West Meon, who started things off on the dancing front.
3. Dan's admirer, in tight white t-shirt, earring, cropped hair, gazing adoringly at him all night. It was a bloke, by the way.
4. Tod having someone doing air guitar in front of him; a first, apparently.
5. Tessa having an absolute belter of a night, giving it the fully welly. Both wellies, in fact. And just holding it together during 'I will survive'!
6. Dave's now-traditional request during his vocal performances - "Come on girls, get your tops off!" - was greeted enthusiastically by the heaving mob, although no-one actually took his advice, not even the Triple L's.

The general verdict was that the Hinton Wedding held the 'best ever gig' title for only a week. The Night at the Pots has already gone down in legend. Well, we enjoyed it, anyway.

August Bank Holiday Pt 1

First up, a trip down the Meon valley to Warnford. Our gig was in the famous Thomas Lord Tent,




set up in the most beautiful riverside garden.



The gig went well - not perfectly, but well. We were plagued with mysterious gremlins in the PA department, which messed up the sound balance somewhat, which caused one or two iffy moments here and there.

Luckily, our lovely hosts and their guests failed to spot any problems, and were generous, genuine and kind in their thanks and praise. Maybe we're setting ourselves much higher standards than we did three and a half years ago. And that must be a good thing.

Simon the Sound Man

They say he has a magic touch; they say that when his hands dance over the knobs and buttons, if you look carefully, and for long enough, you might just catch an ethereal glow emanating from his fingertips, lighting up the night. It takes a very special photgrapher to catch this rare, Green Flash-style event. So thanks to the lovely Ms Melanie Brown for this pic:

The Hinton Ampner Wedding Gig

A lovely dawn broke over Shed 37vii. Inexplicably, everything seemed to be ready. The signs were up, the loos were in, the chill trailer hummed contentedly (mind you, so did the loos later in the day), and Hampshire's thriving community of thieving caravan-dwelling bastards had failed to break in and nick everything from the tent, as is their Yuman Rights, innit?

Even the heavy shower that visited late morning did nothing but leave the air brighter and clearer for the glorious afternoon.

The Old Gits had had a busy Friday. Here we see Todd surveying the stage. I'm not absolutely sure, but it appears from the angle of his leg that he has just dropped one.



Here's Keanu Reeves turning up to play drums. Sadly, no sign of a PVC-clad Carrie Moss.



And here's John re-writing the set-list. And what fool gave him the seat next to the beer? Nice bag, by the way, John.



The day went fabulously. The caterers kept blowing all the fuses (luckily, a recent re-wire of the supply meant that it was their fault, not mine), but the speeched were brilliant, no-one got upset, no-one fought, and the sun shone.

The Old Gits were to be prefaced by the happy couple doing their first dance. What we weren't quite ready for was the fact that the whole dance floor filled within seconds of them starting, and so we had to drop our two slow opening numbers, and launch straight into the uptempo stuff.

The floor stayed full for the whole evening. Young and old, drunk and sober, underdressed and overdressed...I think we went down rather well.

Thanks to Jesse for making the trip from Brighton to play, and to Dan for persevering with a damaged thumb.

A top night.

Update: as a result overwhelming demand, here's a pic of a PVC-clad Carrie Moss.

Exciting Shed 37vii news

It's flooded.

Last Night's Rehearsal.

It's funny how the best evenings are often the most unexpected.

A mid-harvest get-together should really be a bit sparse, but the Good Lord sent the most beautifully timed rain shower to bring harvest to a stop at about five - even at Dan's place. So we had a full house of seven, biffing a few tunes up, ready for Saturday.

The evening was remarkable for a couple of other notables: Tessa now has green hair. Not sure if that's a political statement of some sort, but it looks lovely. Dan was waving a new axe - very impressive. Ian has gone professional. Charlie has still got anger management issues, and the Flowerpots in Cheriton is a quite delightful pub. And it was very hot.

But, inspired by Dan's new guitar, we played our socks off. Not sure if that's a good sign for Saturday or not. Time alone will tell.

Golden 'arvest

Ah, ye olde combines keep on thashing ye heads of goldene wheat....meanwhile, there was small explosion at Shed 37ii (aka the Wedding Venue) when the Bride noticed that the marquee has been put up all wrong. I pointed out that at least there's time to put it right; it wouldn't have been good to find out the day before.

Next gig

Preparations are well underway in the summer sunshine for the venue of our next gig. Mind you, that tent might just hold Dave the Bass's kit; where are the rest of us going to go?

Mid-harvest rehearsal

Six of us had a hot sweaty thrash in Shed 3b last night. Dan, who works on a proper farm, couldn't make it. We appeared to spend most of the evening telling 'knock knock' jokes - hell yeah, rock'n'roll. Tessa spent a lot of time sitting on the floor. No-one knew why, and we were too polite to ask.


I managed to take a pic of Ian's experimental drumming session, playing along to both us and a backing track on his ipod. It didn't last long.

Lack of playing

Due to harvest (or 'staring out at the rain as it continues to sheet down on our golden crops' as it's better known), we haven't had a gig or a rehearsal for a couple of weeks.

Even more gig news.

So much for the 'No Passports Required' Tour. We think we're off to darkest Wiltshire at the end of October for a gig, somewhere South-east of Devizes. Still awaiting final confirmation, so it's probably still a secret at this stage.

Gig news

A posse of TLOGS headed for a local pub where we're booked to play a beer festival at the end of August, because it suddenly dawned on us that, ahem, terms had not been discussed. Anyway, we had a few pints of Gribble's Old Bowel Loosener and then tentatively raised the issue with the glamorous bar staff. We mentioned our usual fee, and there was a tumbleweed moment....silence fell on the whole pub.....and, it seemed, fifty square miles of surrounding countryside. So we returned to our Grumbling's Old Spleen Churner slightly chastened, and got on with deciding what would be the best way for the TLOGS to meet a true rock'n'roll end. Favourite was carbon monoxide poisoning while on tour in a very dodgy Mercedes Sprinter that Dave had picked up for fifty quid from a mate. Second favourite was being swamped by the effluent of an exploding anaerobic digester - ten million gallons (sorry, Tod: 45,454,545 litres) of slurry/maize/banana skins and potato peelings. What a way to go.

Anyway, we await the pub's decision.

Incidentally, my PAM was about 2.20pm the next day.

That chord....

Here are some thoughts on it:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l3kNlD9YMJ4&feature=related

At last another rehearsal

At last, another rehearsal. Inevitably, after a run of highly successful gigs, it was a bit of a shambles. (Old Chinese saying: 'Better to have shambles in Shed 3b than velly large cock-up during huge gig.')

There were several possible reasons for the shambles, apart from the complacency that sets in when the summer has been going so well.

1. We were all deeply affected by the tragic news about Amy Winehouse. Unfortunately, our plans to have a moment's silence were wrecked when it turned out that at least half the band thought she had passed away several years ago. The Daily Mash puts it better than I ever could.

http://www.thedailymash.co.uk/news/society/britain-decides-not-to-boycott-every-last-detail-of-winehouse-death-201107254115/

2. It was very hot. We were an unexpected full house and summer seemed to have arrived. They said it would be on a Monday this year.

3. John had a cold.

4. Ian kept throwing his sticks around.

5. There was no lager (see 3)

But we all had a very jolly evening, although the suggestion did crop up that a band who can't master a Quo number ought to think about taking up another hobby.

You know you're in the Old Gits when...

At one time, the 'Old Gits' name wasn't strictly accurate; there were three band members who dragged the average age of the band down to somewhere in the mid-thirties. But in the last year, things have changed. Our sprightly young drummer has vanished up north, and Ian has replaced him. Jesse has left us and gone all Brighton. And there are rumours that Tessa might be unavailable from this Autumn. the average age will have shot back up to, ooh, very late 40s.

But there are other ways that we genuinely earn the 'Old Gits' moniker. During the interval at Kilmeston, there was an outbreak of salad eating. It wouldn't be fair to name the bunny-food eater, but it effing-well came as an effing surprise to the effing rest of us. And then there was a general outbreak of agreement on the merits - healthy eating and general weight loss - of such a diet. This lead to the suggestion that perhaps we should have a weigh-in in Shed 3b on a Monday night. Perhaps even have a Hinton Ampner branch of Weight Watchers.

Inevitably, there were then suggestions that if we were put on a strict diet, we should rename ourselves.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, will you please welcome on stage: The Gastric Band...."

Kilmeston again

It was an evening when many things were missing, some more significant than others.

First on the absentee list was Tessa, otherwise engaged. Thankfully, the wet weather meant that we had Dan back, so only a slight reshuffle of songs was needed. Of more significance was the lack of punters. You couldn't really blame them; the useless idiotic slack-jawed brain-dead git-faced morons at the Met Office had spent the whole week warning people not to do anything outdoors this weekend, as heavy rain and strong winds would make it impossible.

In the end, it was a wet morning, but as the photo shows, the evening was sunny and dry, if a bit cool and windy. If the overpaid Climate Change Zealots spent a little more time doing weather forecasts instead of their Chicken Licken Anthropogenic Global Warming routine, we'd all be better off. Harrumph. And if anyone had dared mention 'Global Warming' to the good people of Kilmeston who did turn up (sitting under the shelters, wrapped up in coats and jumpers) they may have found a chicken wing inserted where the mid-July sun don't shine.

Also missing was last year's flimsy tent, thankfully replaced by something a bit more roomy and sturdy. And sadly, there was no sign of the lady specialising in the arse-over-tit routine in the ditch, or the mustachioed ticket-seller. The slightly worse-for-wear man was back, but luckily stayed out of the performance tent.

Highlights of the evening included a beautiful 'Happy Birthday' for Nicola, lowlights included Charlie coming in after the big build up to Caroline (One, two, ah-one, two, three, four..) in completely the wrong key. Kerrang, as they say. Dan throwing his set-list all over the floor was also quite entertaining, as was the blind panic of trying to get it all back in his file.



Anyway, we had a lot of fun (more comment from the floor about how we seem to enjoy ourselves) and stayed dry. There's now a bit of a gap before the next big one; perhaps the sun will shine and we'll get some harvest done. Perhaps I should ask the Met Office when that might be...or not.

Harvest

There are ugly rumours of harvest starting in some parts of the County....it could play havoc with our guitar line-up. I thought everyone knew that harvest should start on a Monday in July starting with a 2.

Something tells me that this weekend's weather might ground the combines for a bit, and solve the problem.

The long trek to Hinton Ampner House...

After a Saturday off (giving much-needed time to the physio team to work intensively on Ian's numerous drumming-related injuries), we found ourselves packing the trailer with all the kit ready for the long hike to our next gig. Much debate ensued about sheeting the trailer: would the weather hold long enough? Where do we put Hermann the German? (Dan was stuck in Scotland, and he usually packs the trailer) One look at the farm tarpaulin, which is more hole than canvas thanks to Mr and Mrs Mouse and their 10,000 closest friends, and we took a chance on it, and set off for the long hike to the next gig.

Four hundred yards later, we arrived. The early omens did not look brilliant: the picturesque property of Hinton Ampner House was not exactly heaving with punters - and those that were strolling gently round the beautiful gardens seemed to be of an age that justified the ambulance parked in the grounds. We were reduced by the intricacies of EasyJet's booking system to just one guitarist, and Tessa was going to be late.

'Hmm, this will be an interesting evening,' we thought, and set about unpacking the trailer, which, despite not having been packed by Dan the trailer-packer (which is not at all like fudge-packing, btw) had somehow managed to retain its load.






Things immediately looked up: the Trust had laid on a fantastic tent: at one end was a stage with real grown-up electric supplies, and at the other end was a bar (only one free pint per band member boo hiss bad luck John) and a large pig being barbecued (one bap each boo hiss again bad luck Charlie). And as if to emphasise how the evening would go, as soon as we cleared the trailer, the heavens opened.

After setting up and a quick sound check, it was home for tea'n'cakes.


Dave and Ian hit the rock'n'roll coke.

When we finally got going, it was to an audience of not very many, scattered round the outside of the tent. But numbers gradually grew, as did the appreciation. I spotted an elderly and utterly respectable lady sitting off to my left, who looked as if she was mumbling to herself. I assumed that she was cursing the noise and young people in general, and then spotted that she was in fact singing along, word-perfect, to Lola.



In the end, it turned into a fairly intimate gig - almost like playing a small club. No body seemed to mind when we messed up a couple, and then had a row on stage about whose fault it was. There was an outbreak of Charlioke while Tod had to sort out a broken string, and then, with our second-to-last song, the dam broke, and the floor suddenly filled with dancers. And, at twenty past our allotted finish time, the Nation Trust head honcho approached; I was expecting the instruction to stop at once, but in fact, he was demanding that we do one more! And so 'Hard Day's Night' was trotted out again. Give us another few goes, and we'll sort out the chord sequence.

And, thanks to our early finish, we had everything back in Shed 3b by ten thirty.
Fantastic.

More dates

Perhaps it's time to re-name the 'No Passports Required' Tour as the 'Let's All Pray That Harvest Finishes Early' Tour, now that we have been asked to play at the Cheriton Beer Festival - the third gig in eight days in late August.

Pictures from Livestock '11

The wig-swapping was well underway by this stage....



I just hope that everyone got back the hairpiece they came with.

More gigs.

Exciting news of another gig at the end of August this year, and two more for next year - one 60th birthday in April, and a wedding, but date uncertain.

We must be doing something right.

The Summer Tour, part 2

Finally, the secret can be revealed. Many months ago, we all had to solemnly place our right hands on our most treasured possession (in my case, my huge organ), and swear to keep the details of the second gig on the 'No Passports Requited' Tour secret. Now it's over, we can at last tell.
In an idyllic wooded Hampshire glade, up a bumpy track, the 'Livestock' festival took place last weekend. Many bands took part, many people came (nearly all in Woodstock-inspired fancy dress), and much fun was had. Two tents for bands, catering tents, beer tent...VIP tent/bonkfest tent, and all held over twelve hours, starting in the most gorgeous and much-missed June sunshine, and ending during the small hours of a warm and misty English summer night.

Special mention to the organisers/hosts, who made it such a success, not least because of the funds raised for assorted charities.





It was nice to have Jesse back with us 'for one night only', as they say. Fantastic to hear his minimalist fills during 'Walking the Dog' again. I think you know things are going well when you run out of encores, and when poor Ian the drummer leaves the stage at the end complaining of cramp in his legs and lower back.

Other highlights included some wild-west style fighting in the crowd (and there was me thinking that Woodstock was all about love and peace), the Hunnisett boys dealing with the fighting, and the surprise announcement - during the encores - that we would now play 'A Hard Days' night'. Not sure if we'd ever rehearsed that one. I think we got away with it - I picked up two more bookings, anyway.

A fantastic evening - be aware that the next one will be somewhat different in style, at least.

The Unsung hero

He sits somewhere near the back, far from the bar, far from the dancing, far from the copulating couple canoodling under the counterpane in the VIP tent....he gets shouted at by everyone from the lead singer to the third guitarist and the roving saxophonist....all he has for company up on his raised platform is the glare of his lamp and the massed ranks of knobs and dials. But where would we be without him? Where would we be without his acute auditory skills? In the vacant depths of acoustic darkness, that's where. Let's hear it for Simon the Sound Man.

The Summer Tour Starts

Well, the 'No Passports Required' Tour finally kicked off last night, in a lovely old barn on a lovely old farm not more than a mile from Shed 3b.



There were times when it seemed that the Tour wouldn't actually start - at ten o'clock, when the first musical act of three was supposed to be taking to the stage, dinner in the big tent was just only just starting. By eleven, Rufus, our host, took the brave decision to get the music going, even though the meal was far from finished - even braver when you consider that he was part of the first act.

So Rufus and his pals took to the stage for an eclectic mix of Blondie, Magazine, Martha and the Muffins and another couple I'd never heard of. Not even the smoke machine doing a Spinal Tap 'set to 11' moment could dampen his enthusiasm.






Next up was 'Grace and Bass' - a girl and a guitar, accompanied by a lad with a double bass, providing a genuine 'hair stand up on the back of the neck' moment, blowing the assembled crowd away with her talent. Rufus is something in Investment in the City - one hopes he's invested a bob or two in her success.

By then, it was well past midnight, and Grace kindly curtailed her set so we could finally get on - or so we thought. In fact, our Host's wife, the lovely Ali, popped up on stage for a surpise song. She did it so well, the crowd quite rightly insisted she do it again.

And then, once everyone else had done their bit, it was TLOGtime. After a swift switch of instruments, and Tod and Dan giving the PeeVee a good kicking, we finally got going.

We only had time to do half the set, but it went very well - Ian doing fantastically on his first time out 'in anger' with the TLOGS. The floor filled and danced, we had to do two encores, and then we all settled down to watch Chitty Chitty Bang Bang at 2.30 in the morning, while munching Organic chocolates and tiny meringues.

And life don't get much better than that.

Where are they now?

I am often asked "What happened to Smooth Charlie - you know, the excellent drummer who replaced Mick the Sticks, and then was replaced by As Yet Unnamed Ian?"

Actually, I'm not asked that very often - if at all, but I have found pictorial evidence of what dragged him away from hard blues'n'booze in Shed 3b, and the high-octane, world-encompassing rock'n'roll summer with the TLOGS.

He's playing the lion in the Cheriton Players' production of Alice:





Rock'n'roarl.