The Gig

Five Jive gig diary. Gig #2, The King’s Head. So far so bad. Dad is stressed out, this is a nightmare shambles. The Landlord had just as stern a look about him where he be normally affable. Father would rather I didn’t drink, so I snuck out some strong scrumpy in my gig bag. I am now sat in the loo ‘getting changed’ (i.e. downing a couple of pints before we begin). Lord help me. I am so damn nervous. More to follow...

As premeditated, Dadio didn’t permit me to drink any victuals. Alas, I am now nicely sozzled, having downed two pints of Mad Hatters homemade scrumpy. Arr! Wasted mate. The sound check was a complete non-event seeing as the double-bass player took off for tea. I am about to take the stage on my own and play some slide. On me Jack Jones. Should be good...

Well, I mounted the stage, liquored-up, well-oiled, seriously On the Flex, like never before. You would not Adam and Eve it. Some guy in the audience came up-to me and said, “That was f- excellent!” Yeah, I know. I lived it. The best was yet to come. ‘Ain’t seen nothin yet...

As per usual, the band got off to a rocky start (especially seeing as the new piano-player, Cymræg, had n’er played with us before). Yet, within sixteen bars the band had it together. In time, in tune. Solo after solo it was Rock ’n Roll, like you ’ain’t never seen before. Straight up. I can’t describe just how great this evening was. At one point my old man said across the mic’, “That’s mah son playin’ the gee-tar!” In the middle of my solo. It was spectacular.

Then, as were leavin’, a fight broke out. I offered to back the Landlord and Lady out. No help was required. We took off.

Max.