Hereford Courtyard Monday Sept 6th

One of the good things about the way this whole project is developing is that everyone's much more realistic about how it's growing. The fact that we had a pretty mental and virtuaqlly sold-out show last night doesn't mean that the next show will be the same, especially if we've never been there before, and so we descend on Hereford with the attitude that no matter how many people turn up tonight, they're not going to forget us and they're going to want us back. Hereford is famous for bulls, cider, popstrel Eliie Goulding and....err...that's about it, so we don't know whether it's a hotbed of classic Seventies rock, banging techno, finger-in-the-ear "Whose pigs are these " folk music or even the last outpost of The Wurzel's fanclub. What we DO know is that this is a really nice theatre with a great crew, and despite the fact that it's pissing down enough to get Noah worried for much of the day, we're enjoying the wide open spaces of the stage. Last night was so small that at times I felt like one of The Borrowers, but here we've got bags of room, and this is the kind of stage where we can really make this look like a big, grown-up rock show again. It's fine to be able to knock people out with the show in little rooms like Market Drayton and ( speak the devil's name quietly ) Boston, but to move everything on we have to be able to fill the big stages and still have the audience saying it's one of the best things they've ever seen. We're still very much breaking new ground, even after all this time....we've never been here before, so we don't know what to expect, so we just have to get in, do our jobs, and bring the message that THEY WILL SURRENDER TO US EVENTUALLY AND LOVE US MORE THAN ANY OTHER AND GIVE US ALL THEIR MONEY AND THEIR ADORATION AND THEIR VIRGINS AND EVERYTHING....Actually, I'd settle for the virgins. Just a couple. One, even....Anyway, back in the real world, the rain continues to hose down, which is not good as it pretty much kills the " walk up ", which is people who decide to come along on the night or on the spur of the moment. Faced with the choice of venturing out into the teeming rain to see a new show or to crank up the heating a notch and snuggle down in front of the old crystal bucket, sadly the Big Brothers and X Factors of this world win almost every time. No matter though...onwards and upwards,as they say. There's actually a decent crowd in tonight, as it happens, and they're clearly in the mood to be entertained, making much more noise than an audience of this size has any right to do. Where a show like this CAN fall down isn't on the songs, strangely enough, it's the bits between them. Den and Steve in particular have got some great lines, and there's nothing worse than dropping in a funny which had them rolling in the aisles last night, only to find that tonight it's greeted by total silence and tumbleweed blowing across the staqe. Den's VERY good at this, though; he's got a way of almost challenging the audience not to join in without them realising that's what he's doing. It works, quite literally, every time, and tonight's no exception. The first number where we get the audience involved is only the fourth one in, Hippy Hippy Shake, but there's no hesitation as they clap along with the lads. There's one lady of somewhat advanced years who does this weird, twisting shimmy dance throughout the whole show, and we're all loving this game old bird as she boogies along. Turns out later she didn't really WANT to keep dancing, she's just got a particularly nasty case of piles, but she's setting the standard anyway. Den has decided to reintroduce On The Beach to the end of the set as we're still getting a lot of " you don't do any Cliff " comments, and it's a great choice as it makes the last five songs a real " Sixties party ". When the band finish and leave the stage it's to genuine and full applause, and then a first happens for us...the crowd break into the " We want more ! " chant, which is as appreciated as it's unexpected. You'll Never Walk Alone leaves them still baying for more, but it's lights up, curtain down and on to the next one....they'll have us back here, no doubt, and we want to leave people talking about this show. It's a fast getout, so we all head to the local Travelodge for some much - needed sleep. Ah, yes, the Travelodge....now, I don't want this blog to turn into some kind of Lonely Planet guide to the hotels of Britain, but it would also be churlish of me to leave the experience unremarked. The first warning sign is that it's slap bang opposite the Cider Museum. This is dangerous because Tomps, normally the mild - mannered Clark Kent of our tour party, has been known to turn into Ciderman, destroying all in his path, after just one pint of Scruttock's Old Dirigible scrumpy. I make a mental note to lock him in his rooom and then spirit him away past it in the morning. The second thing that makes my nadgers curdle is Travelodge's current advertising campaign. Now, a Russian meerkat flogging car insurance I can handle, but a bunch of teddy bears coming on like East End villains urging me to " Sleep tight " just makes me want to hurt people, preferably the numpty from the advertising agency that came up with the idea in the first place. On the ads the rooms all look warm and cosy, but the one I go into boasts a cold austerity that would make a monk's cell look like a suite at The Dorchester. There's not a single picture or anything to break up the monotony of the four white, white walls, and within five minutes I'm feeling like I'm doing a ten stretch for armed robbery ( maybe THAT'S why the little bears in the ads are like thugs....). Still, it's got a bed, and I'm knackered, so I sit down on the edge of it...and am immmediately tipped backwards, where I lie scrabbling on my back with my legs in the air like an upended turtle. There's a SERIOUS dip in the middle of the bed....it must have been used by two hippos for a major shagfest or something, but I'm in it now, and don't have the strength to climb back out again, so it's goodnight from me.....bloody " Sleep tight " indeed.....