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.