So last Thursday I took my new ‘I only drink wine like a grown up’ experiment to the Conway Pub in Pontcanna. With the beautiful Marylou on my arm, I strolled up the rain sodden streets full of confidence in my new found ability to drink responsibly and looking forward to meeting our friends, Jo and Danny, Carl, Ashli, Dickie Jim and Bronwen and The Civil War Bear (who has shaved his beard off! Oh cruel, twisted fate!). I approached the bar, asked for a large glass of red wine and waited to be tarred and feathered. To my amazement, a rather drinkable number was placed in front of me with nary a mocking whisper. I settled in my seat and engaged in my usual erudite meanderings, sounding and looking for all the world like some cerebral academic like Bertrand Russell or Basil Brush; time passed as has become it’s habit (except when Mark Ronson is on and then it just stops and even starts going slightly backwards) and I was snuggled smugly in the snug, snagged on a line of wine and fine conversation. Booting out time is when things started going awry. Instead of going home I decided that I wanted another adult glass of grown up drink and ended up at a friends house drinking wine until it ran out, then beer, then brandy with a spliff chaser. So I ended up, once more on the kitchen floor with little Chickpea telling me what a disgrace I was. And she was right.
It’s a good plan, it just needs refining.
I had a bit of a meltdown at the start of the week, the enormity of what I’m trying to do coupled with the thousand plus miles I’d driven the week before caught up with me and sapped my energy completely. I would write an email, have a bit of a cry and then write another one and so on, soon passed though and by Wednesday I was fighting fit once more. We started swimming again this week which helped enormously. I love swimming and I love our pool which isn’t one of those horrible chlorine efforts, it’s a swish hydroelasticatedclockwork jobbie and you can drink pints of it while swimming without being sick, result! On Wednesday we stepped out of the exit at around ten pm and walked into Paul fucking Daniels!* Eh?
Maybe i should stop drinking so much pool water.
I’ve been listening to Marvin’s album this week, ‘Devil in the Distance’. I did a few gigs with Marvin when we were both playing with Akira the Don a couple of years ago. It’s a great album, with none of the tiresome cliches and studied machismo that much of Hip Hop is ridden with nowadays. As all good first albums do, it deals with schooldays, parents and the environment that he grew up in (Brixton). It’s funny and it’s ace, just like Marvin. Check it!
Mary and I were on Adam Walton’s BBC radio show last night. Adam has been a constant supporter of my music for longer than either of us care to remember (we’re actually too old to remember much of anything) and we love being on his show. He’s the funniest man we know and has us in stitches for most of the time we’re off air (and sometimes on). He’s also a rather ace writer and photographer as you can see on his blog.
We performed ‘Bear Lake’ and ‘Darwin’s Tree’ and I waffled, rather badly Marylou tells me, about Bandstocks for a bit. Anyway, you can hear the whole thing here. He also plays some ace music, he always does.
Afterwards we had a quick glass of grown up wine in Chapter with our friends Fionna the Lady Adventurer, Tom, Chill and Bethan. Afterwards we stood outside and chatted, the party was split into two camps. The girls talked about babies, responsibility and the universal, lifelong struggle of sisterhood while us blokes enthused about computer games. We’re a simple breed but lovable in a waggy dog kinda way.
This morning the chimney sweep came round and stuck his big brush up me dirty chimney pipe. I don’t see anything funny about that, it was really exciting. Look!
Spent Friday night in the house with Marylou, Pete and Cait and our old friend Ben and his lovely wife Robyn. I’ve known Ben since the mid-nineties when he signed a band I loved, 60ft Dolls and some crap that I didn’t love at all. He’s a very funny man and it was very late when I stumbled into my room. I was in no fit state to drive to Cardiff the following day so Mary had to. We stopped at Reading services and I bought enough food to feed a family of ten (elephants) all of which I scoffed. I don’t know what is going on with me at the moment. I’m supposed to be getting myself cleaned up for when the baby gatecrashes my do-what-I-fucking-like life but I’m drinking and eating and smoking like it was my last year on earth.
We rehearsed at the new Music Box in Cardiff with the band. there are six of us; Me, Marylou, Big P on bass, Rhodri on organ/guitar/pedal steel, Bernie on drums and Danny who I’d asked to help out for a couple of gigs on guitar/vocals. After rehearsals we had a drink or two at our old local, Chapter Arts Centre, with Tom (aka ZWOLF) who was also on the bill in Cardiff.
I think we’re going to have to move back to Cardiff to have the baby which is disappointing but with seven weeks to go before the birth we need to settle and prepare. We’re putting the house up for sale and hopefully we’ll be back in London early next year.
The gig at Clwb Ifor Bach in Cardiff was ace. It’s seven or eight years since I first played there and I’ve done solo gigs, bravecaptain band gigs, electronic gigs and dj’d more times than I care to remember. I used to regularly DJ there about five years ago with my friend James (We were called PopAssHeadSets after a line in a Kool Keith song) where we would play anything that was stupidly loud, from Kid 606 to the Velvets. I’ve been kicked out, passed out, fucked up and knocked down in every room on every floor. When I first moved to Cardiff after my marriage broke up I was there very night drinking gallons of vodka and Red Bull and never sleeping. I’ve seen some of the best gigs I’ve ever seen there and I’ll always be fond of the place.
The setlist for the gig was;
The Dead of Winter
Darwin’s Tree
Bear Lake
Running
Why You Gotta Bring Me All This Rain?
Orpheus Lament
Pontcanna Stone
Tired and Broke and Black and Blue
Goldrush ‘49
The space was very cramped and the vocals weren’t too clear through he monitors but soundman, Ben, was very helpful and we did ok. The place was pretty packed although, as is the case in Cardiff, some people were at the gig to talk very loudly to their friends while the bands played. The supports were both great if completely different. The MeMeMes played tuneful downbeat pop with songs about sorrow and the frustration inherent in fancying people who turn out to be gay. ZWOLF on the other hand wields a laptop, bass and guitar and propels darkness and distort into the crowd. I think I filmed some of their sets, I’ll have a look and upload if I have.
After the gig we met up with old friends and drank until the wee hours (Not Mary of course). We were supposed to be having an early night because I had a meeting in Chiswick (London) the next morning but, as usual, the drinking won and we arrived home at around three.
The meeting was with a publishing company who are interested in my writing songs for other people. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for years but never really had the opportunity so I’m hoping that it comes together. Afterwards we crawled up the snailpaced horror that is the North Circular and arrived home to help Eavie celebrate her fifth birthday. Her talented mother had made the most incredible Dalek cake which is still repeating on me two days later. We grabbed a couple of hours sleep then tubed it over to the West End for soundcheck. We were playing at The Social, another venue I’ve spent quite a bit of time at over the years. I’ve never stood on the stage though and couldn’t believe that I was contemplating playing with the band. There was just enough room for Marylou and I but the sound was fantastic. We chatted with Huw Stephens who I’ve known since he was a teenager and we met up with some more old friends (Steve Wood who designed all the Boo’s sleeves, Mark and Dick from Wichita, Keith Cameron and Akira the Don) and then it was time to play. We played almost all the songs we had done the night before, Goldrush ‘49 doesn’t sound that great with just the two of us. The place was packed and the first few songs we performed to absolute silence which really makes a difference.
I went for a quiet drink with Keith at another pub and then met Mary back at the gig. We had a couple of drinks with Akira and Charlotte and then caught the bus back home.
