Wyllyott's Theatre Potters Bar, Tuesday Dec 4th

Hard to believe though it is, suddenly we’re on the last date of the tour. The oddest thing about this tour is that…..well, it hasn’t really FELT like a tour in many ways. We’ve only all stayed in a hotel together twice and didn’t even see the band on one of those occasions, and because we’ve travelled not just apart from the band but sometimes apart from other members of the crew, we haven’t managed to have the same level of togetherness that we’ve enjoyed on previous tours. In addition we had the problems not only of having to take some dates out of the original schedule, but also of the band having two shows in their own right within the tour, and all of these factors have combined to make the whole thing fragmented and erratic. On the plus side the overall level of business we’ve done has been good, and we’ve achieved what we set out to do by positioning ourselves ready to tour again in autumn / winter NEXT year, but somehow it doesn’t feel as though we’ve been through it together. Nonsense of course….the reason the show is as good as it is owes everything to the way we all work as a tight, efficient unit….but it still just doesn’t feel right. It’s also been harder work physically, thanks to all the driving, which has meant a lot of late nights, early starts, and long, long days, and to be honest we ALL look a little battered, not just the crew. It’s thus that Pug and I set out for tonight’s final show at the Wyllyott’s Theatre in Potters Bar with very mixed feelings. On the one hand I’m sorry it’s over, on the other I can’t wait to shut the doors of the vans tonight and get back to regular sleep patterns and some semblance of normality. Pug’s all set to carry on for another two or three weeks, but then he is a young alien from a planet where sleep is unknown, and all his bones and muscles still work pretty much as they’re meant to. At least we’re going out on a good ‘un tonight after two nights with disappointing attendances, so there’s a positive vibe about the crew. I’ve also got a personal milestone tonight. After a career in the music industry spanning more than thirty years, my 82 – year old Mum is coming to see what I do for a living for the very first time. I’d managed to convince her I was a goatherd for years but she finally realised something wasn’t adding up when I started going out to work wearing black shorts, a Bootleg Sixties t-shirt and steel-toecapped shoes. The overall lack of general goatyness about me probably didn’t help either, so eventually I had to come clean and reveal my dreadful secret. She was less shocked than I thought she’d be; I remember telling my Dad that I was going to work in the entertainment industry many, many years ago, and he told me not to be so stupid…..entertainment was about enjoying yourself, so how could you have a job where you enjoyed yourself ??! As this came from an ex-miner I shouldn’t have been surprised….his mantra for getting through a life of employment was “ Money sweetens labour “. As I haven’t had the proverbial pot to piss in for some time now, labour thus tastes very, very sour to me, I’m afraid ! Anyway, Mum’s all set to finally see what Number One Son does every day. She’s got her bottle of vodka in her handbag and her earplugs in her pocket, so she’s ready to rock. She’s being brought here tonight by Carol, who I’ve mentioned briefly in previous blogs, specifically the last one of the last tour. We met for the first time on the very last show at Worthing , where she was duty manager, and we are now what I believe is called “ An Item “. She’s fully embraced Bootleggery in all it’s multifarious forms, and because she’s come out of the entertainment world herself she knows that an army marches on it’s stomach, so she kindly makes me bread rolls and a packed lunch for every show. I have to say that her floury baps are the envy of the entire crew…..She’s seen the show a couple of times from the wings, but tonight is the first time she’ll see it as an audient, so there’s a fair amount of anticipation in the air. Steve’s accompanied by the fragrant Jill, Nick’s wife Karen is here too, Den’s daughter is in the crowd and there are loads of pals about, making it all a bit of a Fun Family Finale. This is also a cool little theatre which has sold very well, so we just know we’re in for a good one, and thus it transpires…..the boys are cheered onto the stage as they come on in the dark while the opening video’s being played, and from the first note there’s a real feelgood factor about tonight. This is another gig where it all comes together beautifully, and where we can see how far this could all go. There’s a brilliant atmosphere in the theatre tonight… some of it is probably down to that great intangible, Christmas Spirit, and some of it may be down to Mum’s vodka which she’s liberally sharing with her neighbours, but whatever’s behind it, it’s a great night. A storming Daydream Believer has the Potters Bar Bricklayer’s Choir bellowing along with the band, and then it’s time for our Festive Finale. We’d been wondering about doing a Christmas song for this tour, and had eventually decided to confine it to the last three shows. Problem is, of course, as Den says before they kick off, quality Christmas songs were pretty thin on the ground in the Sixties, so for this brief moment we step forward a decade to one of the best – known and loved Crimbo songs of all time, Slade’s Merry Christmas Everybody, which the band have been playing at their own Crimbo gigs for many years. To add to the general seasonal splenditudiness, we’ve got a pair of snow machines which deliver a realistic, if somewhat pungent, blizzard, and the band are decked out in red Santa hats ( though it must be said that Jamie “ Humbug “ Cook looks more ill at ease in his than a Palestinian at a barmitzvah ). There’s a whole crowd of people dancing in the “snow” at the front of the stage, and they really don’t want the band to go. As the final chord is played I suddenly realise that neither do I, but then it’s all over and we’re done for another year. I find a hoarse, ecstatic Carol and a quietly impressed Mum and decide it’ll be a good thing to show Mum round “ Missile Command “ where Tomps and I weave our Booties magic every night. She casts an eye over the vision mixers, the computers, the screens, the pyrotechnic control unit, the smoke machine and all the other electrickery, and says “ Very nice, dear “, her mind no doubt thinking wistfully of goats…..As ever on these occasions our partings from the band are somewhat cursory, but as Arthur, Nick and I are working with them in London on Saturday it doesn’t even seem like we’re really finished. All VERY odd and dislocating….Eventually everyone makes their way home and we’re ready to do the last bump – out. It’s REALLY cold tonight and we’ve got a great deal of fannying around to do with the gear, but the lure of home and a warm bed is strong and we’re done in short order, then it’s hugs and handshakes all round, and we’re off into the night for the last time. It’s been a funny old year one way and another, but we’ve got through it, and the portents for 2013 are good. I don’t normally do this, but I’d like to close this series of blogs with some heartfelt “ thankyou’s” on behalf of Arthur and myself. Firstly, a huge pat on the back has to go to Den, Steve, Phil, Jamie and Chris for consistently delivering the goods, and then, of course, it’s Big Love and “Respeck” to the crew for yet another sterling tour….Nick, Tomps, Pug, Damian, and Chris Stocker, we salute you !!! Thanks are also due to Ian Robson of TechPS for gear, coffee and the use of his loo, and to the two Alans, Field and Robinson for agency and PR respectively. We can’t possibly ignore the love and support of the wives and girlfriends, and that leads us neatly on to the people without whom all of this would be pointless, our fans and followers. We’ve already specifically mentioned Marilyn, Debbie, Dawn, Jim and Irene in these pages, so this is for you wonderful folks, but also for every single person who parted with their hard – earned groats, ducats and doubloons to come and see us. Thankyou, thankyou, and thankyou ! I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and a Bootlegtastic New Year, and that Santa brings you all your heart desires ! Watch the skies, my friends…..we will return……

Public Halls Harpenden Monday Dec 3rd

Followers of these meanderings will possibly be able to recall our first visit to the Public Halls in Harpenden some three years ago. For anyone who wasn’t part of our happy little band back then, here’s a brief recap-ette. No-one at the venue knew we were coming, we were told we couldn’t use the lighting rig as it belonged to the local am-dram society, the truck was late because Clive, bless him, thought the gig was in Hoddesdon, not Harpenden, the power was so unstable that we spent the entire night expecting to be frazzled to a crisp, and the stage is the size of a weasel’s knickers. To cap it all, the tickets were sold through the Arena at St Albans, and when they sold their allocation of fifty or so, no-one there thought to ask for any more, so when fans went on line to try and buy a ticket they were told “ sold out “. As a result we had one of our lowest – ever attendances, and there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth. Three years on we’re much more hard-bitten about such shenanigans, and our attitude is a lot more “ Bring it on “, so we rock up ready to face whatever this little corner of Hertfordshire can throw at us. As it happens, much has changed. Whilst the stage is still as small as a lemur’s lingerie, the lights are now totally accessible, there seem to be more lighting bars for us to play with, and best of all, they have a really good house tech who is one of the best guys we meet on the entire tour. The improvements haven’t extended to being able to sell any actual tickets for the show, unfortunately, but then you can’t have it all, can you ? The only other thing we’d forgotten about was that the backstage is also very small, and as there’s no room onstage to store flight cases we have to use one of the dressing rooms and the back corridor. This swiftly takes on the properties of a giant game of Tetris, only with added swearing, but ends up with everything stacked in a neat pile, and we can at least move around. We’ve actually been a bit spoiled on this tour as the theatres have pretty much all had decent size stages and wings, so we’re struggling somewhat today. Nick’s got the toughest job as he has to find space for the second keyboard and the stools for the acoustic section; we suggest tearing a hole in the space – time continuum so he can store them in another dimension, but he says he’s left the tool for doing this in the van, so he’ll just have to cram things in where he can. There’s a fair bit of vitriol flying around when it becomes apparent just how poorly the venue have sold the show, even though our numbers are up on last time, but these are things to be re-examined in the cold light of day and with all the information to hand. Our take on things is that we always put on the best show, no matter how many people are sitting in front of us. It IS hard for the band sometimes…..it can’t be a lot of fun when the lights come up and there are a hundred or so faces scattered about the theatre….but this is how the show will develop, as people who see it pass the word on. If we go at it half – arsed, the audience will know, and they’ll ( rightly ) be insulted, so we have to treat every night like it’s Wembley. Den in particular has become very astute at reading the audiences each night, and he can call out small changes to the band that help keep things moving without compromising the overall impact. As they kick into From Me To You tonight, we get a sharp reminder of just how powerful this band is when you’re seeing them at such close quarters, and if even half of this power is funnelling off the stage and into the hall, then the audience are in for a belter tonight. I’m so close to Phil that I’m impulsively ducking my head every time he swings the guitar neck round, and when the pyrotechnics go off at the start of Pinball Wizard I actually feel the heat of the flashpots. It’s also LOUD…..Steve’s assault on his drumkit is nothing short of GBH and the roar from Phil’s amp manages to divide my brain into multi – coloured splinters, whilst the subterranean rumbling of Den’s bass is threatening to do dastardly things to my bowels….and all this is while I’m wearing double – muff headphones which fully cover my ears ! I think the only time I can actually hear Jamie tonight is during his stellar solo turn on Handbags & Gladrags, whilst Chris may as well be capering about behind an ironing board for all that I can hear of him, but the crowd are clearly loving it, so we’re doing SOMETHING right. This is actually one of the most vociferous crowds of the tour, despite their meagre numbers….they whoop, hoot, holler and cheer the whole way through, and go totally banzai when the Christmas Special is trotted out at the very end. There had been talk of suggesting a second encore number, but tonight isn’t the night; the band aren’t happy about the poor promotion job and so they finish things up as normal. We have a brief discussion afterwards about tonight and how to avoid such situations in the future, but the crew are champing at the bit to get the gear down and out, so we leave things for now…..straight after a gig is never the best time for reasoned discussion anyway….and start playing Chinese Puzzles again to try and get everything back in it’s cases and out the door. It’s bitter cold again tonight and the van ramps are slippery and treacherous, so I do the sensible thing and pretend to have an attack of malaria so I don’t have to go outside. Unfortunately my crewmates are nasty, cynical human beings and don’t believe me for a moment, so I find myself grumpily chucking stuff around in the back of a van. Honestly, they’ve got no compassion for a broken old man, these youngsters. They’ll be sorry when I’m laid up with pneumonia, pleurisy and galloping dog-rot……

Woodville Halls Gravesend Sunday Dec 2nd

Today’s jaunt is to yet another first visit to both town and venue, the Woodville Halls in Gravesend. Phil was actually born there, and so from him we understand that Gravesend is a quaint fishing village on the banks of the silvery Thames, surrounded by rolling, verdant hills where wild flowers proliferate and unicorns graze from the low – hanging branches of chocolate trees. Sadly the truth is a little more prosaic, though we are no strangers to disappointment. Shame about the chocolate trees, though….There’s obviously something about us and Sunday gigs, because once again we arrive at a theatre to find a “ modern “ musical church service in full evangelical swing. I’ve already made my thoughts on the abomination that is “ Christian Rock” perfectly clear in a previous blog, so I’ll limit my approbation this time to the fact that their presence, not communicated to us by the theatre in advance, of course, means that we rock up at one o’clock all ready for our get – in, to be told that we have to wait until two, and the worst of it is that we’re just expected to say, “ Oh, don’t worry….we don’t mind that we’ve dragged our knackered arses out of bed and driven two and a bit hours to get here. You just go on praising the Lord, and we’ll sit outside in the freezing cold “. Anyone out there got the number for a devil – worshipping cult ? I’m about to swell their numbers by one…..Once we DO get inside, the Woodville Halls is a great theatre, and is just the sort of place we should be playing. It WOULD have helped had the theatre management actually got around to telling people we were coming here to play, but hey, you can’t have it all, can you ? Unfortunately we’re set for the lowest attendance of the tour so far tonight, despite this being the very first show to be booked in. We’re not in their brochure, there are hardly any posters to be seen, and the local people we speak to say they only found out about the gig “ by accident “. This is the overarching frustration of this whole project. We work our collective biffins off to get a great show together, put ourselves on the line financially, and then find ourselves at the mercy of the marketing departments of the various theatres. Some of them do a great job, and this is reflected in attendances, but some of them , it’s fair to say, couldn’t find their own arses with both hands and a flashlight. However, in keeping with our eternal touring watchword, it is what it is, and we’ve just got to bite the bullet. Doesn’t exactly help morale very much, though, and there’s just a WEE bit too much enthusiasm to get out of the building and into a local hostelry. Phil’s had an interesting time going round the old place, and has even managed to find some of his forebears in a cemetery, though I DO think he’s gone a bit far when he asks me to put “ The ghost of Phil’s granddad “ down on the guest – list…as it happens, this isn’t the only supernatural incident tonight, but more of that later .We’re more grateful than ever for our Uberfans tonight….Marilyn, Debbie, Jim, Irene and Dawn are all here, and they make most of the noise in the early stages of the show. Everyone else then seems to get it, and once again we have a situation where the audience reaction is out of proportion to their actual numbers. It’s still disheartening for everyone, especially for the band who have to get up there and put on their best performance, because after all, the people who ARE here have paid good money for the privilege. There’s no obvious manifestation of the boys’ disappointment, of course, and once again a load of new people are blown away and ask the same old questions… “ Why aren’t there more people here ? “ and “ Why don’t more folks know about this ? “ Why indeed…..It’s a slick, smooth set tonight, and the few refinements to our Festive Finale that we talked about yesterday are implemented with great success, so there are still plenty of positives to take out of tonight. I keep having to remind myself that this IS a new show as far as the touring circuit and the theatre-going public is concerned, but it’s the contrast with the shows that have done so well that rankles. I suspect this will be a major topic of the “ wash – up “ session we’ll be having after the tour…..The show comes down and we get everything loaded out in short order, when Pug becomes victim to an odd occurrence. He decides to visit the little boy’s room before we set out for home, and goes downstairs to do the necessary. In he goes, business is taken care of, and he’s about to leave when the door, which is held open with a wooden wedge underneath it, suddenly slams shut, As he says afterwards, it’s just as well that this all happened AFTER he’d carried out his ablutions, otherwise the journey back in the car would have been both uncomfortable and somewhat fragrant. Looks like Phil’s granddad turned up after all, then…….

Civic Theatre Doncaster Friday Nov 30th

State Of The Nation : Rant Number One. There seems to be a great deal of stuff in the media these days about racism, and it’s generally agreed that this is a Bad Thing. Haven’t got a problem with that at all, but there are times when you DO question just what we’re doing in this country. This morning is a case in point. To save us taking more cars up to Doncaster than we need, we’ve agreed that Pug, Tomps and I will meet Damian at Peterborough Services and leave his car there, so he can ride with us. So far so straightforward. When we get to the services, both of the ticket machines are out of order, so I head inside to ask for help. The WH Smith staff point me in the direction of the Services Manager, a chap who, for the sake of convenience, we shall call Vladimir, purely because his actual name was an unpronounceable jumble of consonants. It swiftly becomes apparent that he has a English vocabulary of approximately five words, two of which are “ You bus “ ? After a few minutes of head-scratching and desperate charades I get him to understand that no, I am NOT a bus, I am a car, and I need to park, please. This latter request stumps him so totally that he beckons for me to follow him into a small back office, where he indicates another gentleman of foreign extraction, who, with apologies to Paul Whitehouse and Harry Enfield, we shall call Parking Patewayo. HIS English vocabulary is marginally bigger ( ten words at least ) three of them being “ You give money “. I patiently try to explain that I have intention whatsoever of giving him money until he gives me a ticket. Cue more charades, this time of a slightly more threatening nature, until finally the penny drops, and a smile lights up his face. He scribbles something in what appears to be Sanskrit on a piece of paper and proferrs it to me. As this whole pantomime has already taken the best part of half an hour and we have to get moving, I take it more in hope than expectation, put it on Damian’s car, and off we go. My point, laboured though it may be, is that these two men are in the PUBLIC SERVICE industry, and whilst their employers might be overjoyed that they are prepared to work for fourpence ha’penny an hour and a can of baked beans, surely the main prerequisite of any job where you’re dealing with the British public is that you can speak bloody English ? And sorry, that’s not racism, that’s just common bloody sense. It’s not their fault, of course, it’s the fault of the people who took them on, and it’s just wrong. But if we get back after the show and Damian’s car has been clamped or ticketed, then Vladimir and Parking Patewayo are going to find their underwear full of biting insects. Anyway, rant over. So, on to Doncaster Civic Theatre. We last played here on our “mini tour” three years ago, and it was a somewhat emotional night, as it was Pug’s last gig before he emigrated to Australia, to start a new life, leave the cold British weather and tough touring life behind. I remind him of this as we’re standing freezing our nadgers off, back in the same place, having just loaded in three – quarters of the way through a tour, and his tears are truly pitiful to behold….It’s actually quite sad for another reason, which is that we’ve heard the Civic Theatre will be closing next May, and events will be moving into the spanky new Civic Centre. That means that tonight will be the last time we’ll ever play here, and it’s always a shame when that sort of thing happens. This is a really nice old place, with a great atmosphere, and no matter how smart the new place may be, it’ll never be the same. The “ feel “ of an old theatre is in the stage, the lights, the seats, the décor, the old handbills, the ghosts, even the dust, and whilst a new theatre will win hands down in terms of technical facilities and creature comforts, or might have the architectural “ wow” factor like the Waterside at Aylesbury, it’ll always feel like a conference venue by comparison to somewhere like the Civic. The layout is very similar to the Plowright at Scunthorpe, another old favourite; it’s quite long and narrow and tends to funnel the crowd noise right back at the stage. As we’ve sold well tonight, we’re expecting a bit of a good ‘un. Even the fact that one of the vans got held up by a crash on the M1 and didn’t arrive until twenty past two hasn’t fazed us; in fact, we’re totally up and ready to go by quarter past three, making it one of the fastest builds we’ve ever done, and there’s a nice, relaxed feel to proceedings. We’re trying out a couple of new things tonight in deference to the impending festive season, and the runthrough goes well. I’m saying no more about these new things, Faithful Blogreader, because some of you may well be coming to one of our last three gigs, and I really don’t want to spoil the surprise. Suffice to say that, come the show, everything has exactly the effect we hope for. Maybe the best thing is for you to come to Gravesend, Harpenden or Potters Bar and see for yourselves…..!!! I’m faced with another problem tonight, and it’s one that taxes my prodigious skills (!) to their very breaking point. On our merchandise table, alongside the CDs and programmes, we’ve got some hippy - chick headbands and wristbands which band pal Dawn sourced for us. She also got us some peace - sign necklaces, which, by the same arcane process that sees odd socks disappear into another dimension and the biro you had in your hand just a minute ago vanish from the face of the earth, these seven or eight necklaces have done nothing but sit in their box, yet they have somehow intertwined their chains, laces and clasps into an impenetrable ball of metal and leather. I’m desperate to get this bugger’s muddle untangled and out on sale, and I have to admit it takes me HOURS to do so, but I finally manage it, breaking only one in the process. The enormous sense of achievement I get from this is slightly tempered by the fact that I’ve now missed the entire show and am dimly aware of people shouting at me. Oh well…everyone knows what they’re doing by now….I’m sure they don’t need my input, and after all, the pendants all look SO nice, hanging there. I’m sure I’ll hear all about it later on…..Seriously though, it’s a corking gig….it looks and sounds fantastic, and the boys are really on the ball tonight. The entire set seems to fly over tonight, not just the first half, and that’s always a good indication of when a gig’s belting along. The good people of Doncaster seem to be in the mood to send the Civic Theatre off with a bang as well, so everything combines to give us one of the best nights we’ve had on the tour so far. We’ve got mutual friend and Metal God Andy Sneap from the band Hell in tonight ( bet you can’t guess what kind of music THEY play….) and he’s most impressed with the whole production. He’s got a couple of ideas for us, but somehow I can’t see the boys going for the whole “ biting the head off a live bat “ thing…..doesn’t seem to sit too comfortably with The Monkees or the Beach Boys. By the time we’re all done and the load doors are open, the theatre has somehow been towed away from Yorkshire and dropped off the coast of Antarctica, or so it would seem from the temperature that freezes the air in our lungs as we step outside. Seeing as we’re wearing shorts and t-shirts, this probably isn’t too clever, but then we ARE Spartan warriors, and such mere hindrances as scrotum-shrivelling cold and biting, icy winds are meat and drink to us, I DID hear two small tinkling noises as something fell down my shorts leg and onto the pavement as I lifted a piece of gear into the van, so I make a mental note to do a bit of anatomy-counting when I go to the loo next. Vans packed, all that remains is for us to head south on the good old A1. Once more the headlights only seem to work on “ Full Dazzle “ but I tell the others I’m developing bat-like radar now and don’t actually need to see where I’m going anymore. Not sure why Pug is whimpering in the back seat, though……