Aldershot Princes Hall Thurs March 10th

As it turned out, Big John woke up early and so the two vehicles actually left at 4.30am. They got down in good time, though, so even Nick managed to crash back out, and everyone got a decent night’s sleep, which is just as well, because at about 10.30am I’m woken by a commotion outside the bus. I can see Big John and Nick standing there watching something, and when I step outside it turns out to be a fairly hefty chap squaring up to two WPCs outside the magistrate’s courts next to the theatre. Within a matter of minutes it’s turned into something straight out of Police Camera Action as another couple of policeman arrive, and suddenly matey is shouting and yelling and bobbing and weaving like a boxer.The boys in blue obviously decide that discretion is the better part of valour and in next to no time another couple of officers arrive along with a squad car which screams up to the bus, lights flashing and siren howling, to help subdue Rambo. I curse under my breath, thinking that everyone will have been woken up by the police car, so I go up the stairs to check on my slumbering babes. Far from finding them blinking and mewling in their bunks as their beauty sleep is disturbed, however, they are all crammed into the back lounge, where they’ve got a birds eye view of the proceedings, which are taking place on a mezzanine floor about level with the bus windows, They’ve got cameras and mobiles out and are snapping away like rabid paparazzi. Vultures….! This is another old friend of a theatre, and as before tonight’s show is being promoted by diamond geezer Mr John Martin. He texts me to ask when we’ll be at the venue and what time we’d like our breakfast bringing down, so I reply “ we’re here, and now, please !”. He’s as good as his word, and in next to no time appears with piles of sandwiches, sausage rolls and biscuits.
Now, I happen to know that her Majesty Queen Elizabeth is a big fan of the show and follows these blogs assiduously, so to her I say “ Your Maj, forget all these sports people, musicians, entertainers, politicians and various other nonentities when you’re putting your Honours List together, and let’s see plain Mr John Martin become Sir John, knighted for his services to rock’n’roll in general and needy crew members in particular ! Rarely can there have been a more deserving case for the old sword touching the shoulder. Arise, Sir John , say all of us in Bootiesworld ! The local chaps here are top notch too, especially Darren, who directs me to the best place from which to intercept the ice-cream lady at the interval. Here’s a man who really knows how the wheels turn in this business ! Any of the shows Sir John has done for us in the past have always been belters, so we know we’re in for a good night. A lot of the folks here go and see the band wherever they play and are diehard Overtures fans, so it’s no surprise that we have folks choogling away in the side aisles within a number of two or the band going onstage. The only slightly disconcerting thing is an occasional noise which comes over the comms headphones and appears to be someone in the crowd either vomiting, or making a jolly good stab at doing so. Remembering that last year there was an incident where an unfortunate punter parked their tiger over about six rows of fellow groovers in most spectacular and olfactorily unpleasant manner, we wonder if this same person has returned, and that the sight of the band playing onstage provokes some kind of Pavlovian response involving copious amounts of sick. The answer is more straightforward; it’s a chap with some mental issues and apparently he makes these involuntary sounds when he’s excited, which doubtless comes as a major relief to the people sitting around him who recall the sights ( and smells ! ) of last year ! Despite the fact that the band see they have the crowd in their pockets right from the off, there’s no question of just cruising, and they gradually apply the pedal to the metal as the show progresses. Steve’s having one of his “ octopus” nights where he seems to have grown an extra arm or two, and Den’s totally mastered the art of bantering with a partisan crowd between songs without ever losing control of the situation. With Phil, Jamie and Chris rising to the occasion as ever, the whole thing is a slam-dunk, so that by the time Mony Mony carpet-bombs the theatre we know people will be talking about tonight for a long time to come. Our Uber-fans Marilyn and Debbie are here tonight, leading the charge from the front as ever, and speaking to them afterwards they comment that they think it’s one of the best shows they’ve seen the band play, and if anyone knows it’s these girls ! It’s been a total blast, and this almost takes the pain away from an onerous post-gig chore, which is once again van-related. The car doctors have looked at Arthur’s vehicle today and decided that though it’s a bit shagged out it’ll survive in the short term, so as soon as we’ve loaded up, Arthur, Junior and I jump in the nice new hire van after the show and head for Sandy, where the now temporarily repaired Merc is waiting for us. We start to cross-load the kit from the Longmarsh van into the Merc , and it’s while we’re doing this that the lights of a police car swerve into the yard. Ah. This could be a tricky one…” Yes, officer I KNOW it looks like we’re stealing a load of PA from the van, but we’re not, honest…you see this is our van and it’s broken down but now it isn’t and we’re taking it away to Derby and leaving this nice new rental van instead but actually that’s coming with us TOO for now cos it’s going to Bedford and of course the people who own the garage know me and…..oh bugger it, jut put the cuffs on…I don’t even believe it myself “. Fortunately the officer obviously thinks our story is SO implausible that it must be true, so he lets us go and scoots off.. All we have to do now is drop the hire van at Bedford and then there’s just the little matter of the drive to Derby. When we arrive there the bus still hasn’t arrived, so we sit in the van and wait, eyes drooping. We need a volunteer to go and stand on the road to guide John in, and as I’ve got my hat, coat and gloves I get the short straw. The bitingly cold wind whistles round my undercarriage as I wait, and somewhere a church clock strikes 5.00am.….beneath the encroaching hypothermia, a sense of déjà vu starts to creep in…..

Harlow Playhouse Wed March 9th

We wake up bright and early ready to put our megaplan into action. Arthur hotfoots it up to Sandy in the knackered Merc to have it looked at again, and he’s going to head back later this morning in a rented van. The Millfield lads have done us one last favour by letting us leave the kit from the Merc here so that the poorly van can travel up to the garage unencumbered by our pile of poo. Unfortunately we have to take it outside the theatre quite early to clear their stage, so once again I find myself standing in the bitter North London cold babysitting a load of PA gear with Nick, and I begin to wonder if I’ve somehow offended the Sun Gods and am being punished for my transgressions. It’s so cold that as we wait a brass monkey comes up to us and asks us if we’ve got a soldering iron….At about midday Arthur pulls up in the shiny new Longmarsh rental van and we quickly load up the kit then huddle over the heater to try and thaw out our frozen bones. It’s a short hop to Harlow and our teeth have just about stopped chattering as we pull into the backstage yard where the bus is parked up and the lads are unloading the other van. This is our third time here, and it’s a really good place to work in….a nice big stage, plenty of wing space, and the closest we get to a “local” gig. They have tended in the past to have a bit of a draconian attitude to all matter health and safety related, rootling around in the back of amplifiers, mains distro racks and the like, but this time all is co-operation and smoothness. Head technician Peter even repairs a couple of bits and bobs for us during the build, and by half past two everything’s in place, making it about our fastest set - up of the tour so far…then the computer has a cow again and refuses to start. Tomps has developed a really good way of dealing with this….he knows that I get all panicky when I hear about things going wrong, so if I go anywhere near him when there’s a problem he just stands in front of the computer and says something like “ Move along…nothing to see here “ I’m quite happy to do so, because the next time I look he’s always managed to fix it as if by magic. He casts his spell once again here, and by six o’clock we’re all done and dusted, giving us a chance to check out the fleshpots of Harlow. Five minutes later, our curiosity satisfied, we head back to the theatre to chill out.. When we did this show last year I remember thinking that it felt like we made a jump up somehow, that the whole thing had moved onto a different level. There’s no Damascene conversion moment tonight, because every night on this tour so far has already just confirmed what I felt back then…this is ready for bigger things, and these dates are the next step in cementing our position in the UK touring calendar. The choice of material is bang on, the clever use of medleys has allowed us to bring in all or part of twenty-four new songs, the links are tighter, the new production elements add more quality to the proceedings, and overall everything’s just slicker and better. The band are always a pretty mighty proposition under any circumstances, but sprinkle on all the fairy dust that the production team bring to the party and you’ve got something special. Watching the band level a full house tonight is almost a privilege, and being an actual part of it certainly is. I’ve already said that everyone clicked straight into the groove right from the off on this tour, and tonight is another example…there’s an almost magisterial element to the band’s performance which crucially never strays into the territory of arrogance or, even worse, complacency. To use that horrific X Factor terminology, they “own” the stage every night, and when the stage is as big as this one that’s a very potent brew. When they’re fully in their pomp on things like Pinball and the closing medley section yu can see what a truly great band they’d be playing ANY kind of music; man for man they’re as good as any, and better than many, of the so-called “ stars “ on the circuit today. Gentlemen, I salute you !! After the show there’s time to meet friends and for one lucky member of the tour party, to renew an old acquaintance, and everyone is full of how great tonight has been, how much better than last year etc etc etc. This is the primal force, the lifeblood that keeps us going and makes everything worthwhile. No matter how long you’ve been doing this for, how jaded your palate and how cynical your attitude, nothing can beat the feeling you get when you know you’re part of something really, really good, and you’re there right at the start of it. Over the years I’ve been involved with the breakthrough years of bands like Culture Club, Eurythmics and Frankie Goes To Hollywood, and they were all a brilliant adrenaline rush, but it’s definitely different when the show is yours; we can actually see what all the time, money and hard work we’ve all put in is about, and looking out at the faces of the audience as they’re clamouring for more at the end of the show is totally priceless. As we leave, the house crew seems genuinely impressed by what they’ve seen, and when they ask us to come back again they really mean it, and the atmosphere on the bus is humming. Only one man sits in detached silence, grimly clutching a mug of tea. That man is Nick Liddard, and he knows that he’s on rota to be driving the van to Aldershot later, following the bus. The projected departure time is 6.00am, so he’s reckoning on a few hours kip. It’s not to be, however……

Edmonton Millfield Theatre, Mon & Tues March 7th & 8th

…….so we’re limping the damaged van back from Marlborough to London where we’re hoping to get it looked at. Me and Arthur are nervously watching the temperature gauge and Nick’s riding shotgun behind us in case something falls off or we blow up, but to our surprise we get all the way from Marlborough to High Wycombe with no real trouble. We drop Arthur off and I head for Edmonton, where we’ll be parking the bus and van outside the venue tonight. Alas, the van clearly doesn’t like me, as within about two miles of the M25 the temperature suddenly shoots up into the red. Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever done that “ broken down in the early hours on a deserted road “ thing, but it’s not to be recommended. Time to make a choice….carry on round the M25 and risk seized engines and certain death from boiled – over radiators, or head down the A40 into London and try and crawl to a garage where the van can cool down and have a soothing bucket of water or two. I take the A40 path, and it’s the right one….I just make it to a garage where the van gasps and wheezes like a constipated warthog for a while before allowing me to unscrew the radiator cap without disappearing in a cloud of scalding steam. In goes a bit more water, and off we go again. Clearly the van had given it’s all on the first part of the journey, because before I’ve even got as far round the North Circular as Finchley it’s going all thermo-nuclear on me again. I spot a garage and pull in, but quickly notice the big black mentalist in the hoodie that’s stalking around the forecourt shouting and waving at imaginary dragons or something. Rather fearing that he may indulge in a spot of light murder if I get out of the van, I swiftly head out again. Luckily there’s another garage just down the road, where the van crawls panting into a far corner, and I let it cool down fully whilst staring out at the darkened windows of Finchley for what seems like and hour and a half, but was, in fact, only ninety minutes.
I slake the beast’s thirst with about forty gallons of H20, and once again set off for Edmonton, now thankfully only a few miles distant. As we’ve got a day off after Marlborough the Millfield folks had very kindly agreed to let us come in a day early and use their facilities, so the plan had been to park the bus and van outside the theatre as and then go in early tomorrow, but when I get there the road seems to have been turned into some kind of display showroom for things that stop you doing other things….there are bollards, double yellows, a “ use this and you die “ red route, towing and clamping signs and the road itself actually seems to have been narrowed, too…all that’s missing is an armed guard with a Rocket Propelled Grenade launcher. I find a side road that’s neither mined, fenced off or otherwise protected by weaponry, and park up to wait for John. It’s quiet. Very quiet, sort of “ only person in the world “ kind of quiet. It’s very, very.very cold, too. I put on my coat, hat and gloves, and looking like Nanook of The North step out into Silver Street to look for the bus and give John the good news about No Parking World. It’s now 4.30am, and within about two minutes the fatigue is kicking in and I’m cold, miserable and wondering if that shelf – stacking job at Kettering Asda’s is still open, but luckily John comes round the corner just at that moment, and even more luckily we manage to get the bus tucked in behind the van, so I crawl, whimpering, into my little bunk and am asleep within seconds. When I wake up we’re inside the theatre grounds, John’s got the bus connected to the venue’s electricity, and we’re good to go. We still have to resolve the van issue, however, so today’s task, should we choose to accept it, is to take it to it’s “home” garage in Sandy to have it looked at. We duly jump in and head north to drop it off, then get picked up and taken home to Geddington for a night, where we have home cooking and, of course, the washing machine.. Next morning we jump a train back down to Sandy where, we hear, the van is apparently behaving itself. However, before we’re even on the A1M it’s starting to heat up again, and by the time we reach Potters Bar it’s in the red and we have to stop. This is Bad News. We’ve got some bottles of water on board for just such an eventuality, so at least we manage to get back to the theatre, but we need a Plan B, and quickly. In the meantime there’s the small matter of a sold-out show to do tonight, so we have to focus on that. Millfield is a great little theatre, and we had one of the best shows of the tour here last year, so expectations are high. Once again, though, the vagaries of this bizarre business of ours come to the fore. There’s nothing wrong with the show as such, and the audience reaction is as good as ever, but for those of us who see it every night we can tell that the band’s performance is slightly flat. It’s nothing you can put your finger on, just a lack of sparkle. Den’s had a headache constantly for the past four days or so, and is far from well, but it’s not just that. In fact, after the show someone makes the comment that the show suffered from “ day off syndrome”, where everyone just drops out of the groove for a bit, but it’s something we have to look out for….this has been going SO well that we don’t want any derailment now. In the auditorium, however, it’s business as usual as far as the crowd and theatre staff are concerned…they’re loud, partisan and totally up for it, and despite our internal misgivings about the night, it’s another winner ( in fact, within a matter of days the theatre will contact our agent with an offer for us to do TWO nights there in 2012.). As the house lights come up the audience file out in to the night, all happy, warm and fuzzy, doubtless looking forward to a nightcap and a soft, comfortable bed, but we’ve still got work to do….tomorrow we have to head to Harlow, and the van needs to go back the garage again, so we sit on the bus with the model cars on the table and try to work it out. It’s all a bit “ So if you drive to HERE in this van, and we meet you HERE in the other… “ but we think we’ve got a plan, though it involves staying here another night. Once more the Millfield boys come to our rescue and agree to let the bus stay here all powered up once more, so we make the cocoa, put on our jim-jams, dressing gowns and slippers, put the cat out and turn in for night…….

Marlborough Theatre On The Hill Sun March 6th

Another venue where we’ve been re-booked from last time, and another venue where there’s been a late jump in ticket sales. When we played here before we were only the second act to play this brand-new facility, and we had to deal with some teething troubles, such as the fact that they didn’t actually have any three-phase power in the theatre so we had to hire in a big old cable and run the mains in from another part of the building. This time they DO have the three-phase power in the theatre…but they don’t have any of the adapters to step it down to single phase power, which is what we actually need. As it’s a Sunday, there’s no chance of going to one of the supply houses to get one, so Arthur has to dig out the calculator and work out if we can run the whole show off 13amp sockets if we spread the load around enough. The answer is yes, but just, and there’s a moment reminiscent of the scene from Apollo 13 where Gary Sinise is attempting to see how many support systems the crippled spaceship can run. One by one we flick switches, hold our breath….and eventually everything’s working. The whole thing could be totally derailed by an injudiciously switched – on kettle, however, so we set armed guards on the kitchen and make the band wash in cold water in case the hot showers trip the fuses. In fact, as the theatre is actually in a school, the cold showers bring back happy memories of days being thrashed by sadistic games masters, double Latin and nights in the dorm with Fotherington-Smallpiece Minor…but that’s a whole other blog. The small stage and low stage roof make this an intimate place to play, but it’s also a bugger to get a decent onstage sound as the noise rackets around everywhere and the only answer is to turn down, which really goes against the grain. Ironically the sound in the main auditorium is great, but up here it’s a different issue. There’s also the matter of the big gap between the stage and the first row of seats; but as the audience know what to expect this time round we’re hoping that this doesn’t cause us any problems. Kate and Mike from the venue are doing a sterling job, providing us with all the backup we need as well as copious amounts of tea and cakes, and despite the worry about the hair-trigger power situation we’re looking forward to tonight’s show. Last time here we had a smallish crowd but they totally went for it, and we had an unscheduled appearance of Spirit In The Sky as an encore too, so there’s definitely an air of anticipation about tonight. From the first number everything seems to go well, but as the first set progresses we the feeling we’re getting is more of warm appreciation than the looney – tunes abandon of the previous visit. There’s nothing wrong with this, of course, and there are loads more people here than before, but it’s just a bit….restrained, somehow. Things do seem to pick up in the second half, but then a really weird thing happens. What we normally do in the Sixties party sequence is get almost to the end before Steve gives them the hard word about getting up and dancing. Tonight, though, Den points out the big space on the dancefloor before Green Onions and suggests everyone uses it. Sure enough there’s a rush to the front where some serious frugging starts to take place, but a lot of the other folks stay in their seats, and when Steve does his “ get up “ bit only a few more actually do; it’s as though there are two audiences, one who want to dance their collective nadgers off and one who just want to sit and watch. It’s all fine but as I say, compared to the last visit it’s very different. The demand for an encore is totally genuine, though, and sure enough the band oblige once again with Spirit In The Sky, which has Tomps and I indulging our inner air-guitarist. It’s as kick-arse as ever ( sorry, can’t do “ kick ass “…it’s just SOOOO American ), and suddenly we’re seeing glimpses of 2010, but then the lads are bowing and coming offstage and it’s all over…..there’s been no Walk Alone, and we’re left having to scramble to jump through the slides and cue up the closing VT insert. Turns out that Den’s voice was starting to go, and as Walk Alone is at the top end of his range he felt it made sense to cut it. It’s not made a difference to the audience, though…they’ve loved it, and the feedback we’re getting is even better than last time. Everyone’s happy as we start to load out into a bitterly cold night, but our spirits are soon dampened when it becomes apparent that Nick’s van is ALSO in trouble, and won’t start. When I finally look back over this farrago that I call a career, I’ll see some fabulous highlights, some great gigs, some amazing people and some willing farm animals. I can, however, state with absolute certainty that way, way down the pantheon of memories will be the recollection of trying to bump start a Sprinter van down a hill outside a school on a freezing cold Wiltshire night. We finally get both the poorly vehicles going, and set out for London. What could possibly go wrong…..?

Worthing Assembly Hall Sat March 5th

Anyone who read last year’s tour blog may recall that I’ve got a personal reason for not liking this particular venue, and I must admit that the prospect of another visit here doesn’t really improve my usual jolly, sunny disposition. In fact, if it wasn’t for Ray, the splendid chap who is the technical manager for the hall, I’d be inclined to reach for the can of lighter fuel and matches and raze the place to the ground. That would probably take the shine off their day a bit, though, so I grit my teeth and get on with it. After two previous visits to the venue and slow advance sales this time it was looking as though we were destined never to do well here, but something odd has been going on recently. Ticket sales have taken a pretty hefty jump in just the last week, and all of a sudden we’ve doubled the audience we had last time. I’d actually been wondering if I could do a
“ rentacrowd” thing on some of the slower-selling shows, and had come up with the wizard wheeze of targeting the immigrant Polish community and billing the evening as a seminar on how to cheat the welfare system and the NHS; unfortunately they all already know, so it’d have been a total bust. There’s something else slightly odd about tonight, which is that it’s not only a big old stage, it’s split – level, too. What we’ve been trying to do up to now is keep the band close and on one level, as it makes for a more intimate and much less cluttered layout…we’ve even taken Steve off the drum riser we used last time out, and everyone’s preferring it. Here, however, the split is in such a place ( oo-err, missus…) that we have to have Steve, Chris and the second keyboard on the upper level. One thing that IS nice about it is that it gives you a little glimpse of what this could look like when we’re playing the big stages all the time, when this has become the most successful show of it’s kind in the world, when our every move is documented by a slavering media, when women of loose morals and looser clothing throw themselves at us at every turn, when heads of state, kings and queens fawn for our attention and ALL WILL HONOUR, LOVE AND FEAR US IN EQUAL MEASURE……err, so anyway, Worthing Assembly Hall….despite it being a bitterly cold night the audience is lively and warm, and despite the size of the hall this flows back to the stage and the band pick up on it. I’ve already mentioned how there was no ring-rustiness when the tour started, and everything clicked into place as though we’d been touring all the time. One of the side effects of this that I’m really enjoying is how relaxed the band are onstage, and this also communicates itself to the crowd. I’ve often felt that if a band looks like it’s enjoying itself onstage then the audience will pick up on this and a whole synergy takes place which is somehow mystical and cosmic and otherworldly and almost godlike in it’s intensity …..sorry, it’s been a long day…. There are some great new highlights appearing in the show such as the two acoustic medleys, Jamie’s reading of Whiter Shade and Phil’s Hank Marvin turn, and of course we’ve still got the big production numbers like Pinball Wizard and Hole In My Shoe / Strawberry Fields from last time, and it really does seem as though we’ve hit on a winning combination judging by the audience reactions. Tonight is no exception, and we have to pinch ourselves to remember that this is Worthing, bastion of the genteel, reserved and incontinent. There are people dancing in the side aisles long before we get to the Sixties party section, and when Steve finally exhorts the audience to get to it’s feet in Mony Mony there’s no second bidding needed, even the extremely old lady in the front row who looks like she doesn’t know where she is and has probably been getting flashbacks to the Blitz from our pyrotechnics. We’ve never had a reception like this here before, and so this one has got to go down as a major success for us. Den has family here tonight and they’re fulsome in their praise, as is the gaggle of fans who do the whole posing for photos with the band thing. In fact, despite all my initial misgivings, it’s been a really good day. We’re staying here overnight tonight too, so the plan is for everyone to pile into town after the show for beers and an infusion of lard from Ali’s All-Night Kebab & Botulism Emporium. Just as I leave the venue, however, there’s a little twitch, and I feel my hand close on the box of matches and can of lighter fuel in my pocket……

Andover The Lights Fri March 4th

Our first visit to this quiet little Hampshire town, and early impressions are good…the theatre is a little lovely room, the dressing rooms are comfortable, there’s a shower, and the crew are very friendly. What could possibly go wrong ? Well, one of the vans, for a start. It’s been running hot for a while but last night it suddenly started to bubble and boil like a demented dragon, and it just about made it to the appointed overnight stopover point. This morning Arthur calls me ( I’m driving the other van ) to tell me that the recalcitrant Mercedes has thrown another temperature-centric wobbly, and is currently steaming in a lay-by somewhere near Uxbridge. This is a Very Bad Thing. All of the PA is on this van, so unless we get this sorted out, tonight is going to be the very definition of and “ Unplugged” show. Luckily Arthur manages to slake the beast’s thirst just enough to let him make it to the gig, but this one is going to run and run, as they say….Another very weird ( and more than a little worrying ) thing happens today. As I was driving from Loughborough last night I was aware of being quite tired, but I must have been worse than I thought. I was listening to Janice Long on Radio 2 and I’m utterly convinced she said she’d had a text from someone who’d been at the Loughboroiu8gh show, and that it was brilliant, after which she played the Stones’ Satisfaction . So chuffed was I that I told Arthur and then texted Den, who was also pretty pleased. Imagine how I felt, then, when I arrived in Andover only to be told by Den that they’d listened to Janice’s show again on the Radio 2 podcast, had heard Satisfaction, but nothing about the Bootlegs before it. Clearly everyone thought I’d lost my mind, and worst of all, so did I…..I was TOTALLY convinced of what I thought I’d heard. Here’s a word of advice, kids….don’t ever get old or tired….it sucks !! Anyway, temporary insanity apart, the rest of the day goes smoothly, even our trip to the bank. The four partners of the company have to sign some documents and as we’re on the road our branch have kindly sent them on to Andover so we can go in, sort them out, then get them sent back through the internal mail. There’s a slight hiccup when one of the local staff tries to tell us we can’t see the person we need to see unless we’ve made an appointment with him, but fortunately she sees the logic when we point out that we couldn’t possibly have done so as we were unaware of his very existence until the moment she uttered his name. Foolish girl. Back at the show everything’s going well, and we hear we’re pretty much on a sellout for tonight. Considering it’s our first time here, this is a great result, and the tiredness and van troubles are consigned to one of the little attic rooms of our minds for a while because tonight, Matthew, we are going to be The Gods Of Sixties Rock ! One slightly disconcerting thing becomes clear as the audience come in, and it’s something that we do notice from time to time. The front rows seem to be made up of, shall we say, more senior members of society, so that when you look out it appears at first as though you’re about to address the Annual General Meeting of Age Concern. We’re not totally sure why this is; perhaps their memories of the Sixties are rooted in the chummy cabaret of the Barron Knights or the twinkling Celtic charm of The Bachelors rather than the sonic assault of The Who, but it’s bit odd for Den when he gets his first glimpse of them. Fortunately the rest of the room is made up of younger and much noisier souls, so that when the lights go down a proper cheer goes up and from the opening chords of Please Please Me we’ve got them. In these little theatres this is a powerful, powerful show….the band is a fearsome proposition at any time, but coupled with the lights and all the visuals the whole thing just blows you away.. It works fine in the big theatres too, but this is where it really smacks you between the eyes. There’s a special sting in the tail tonight too; the lads have decided that there’s no way they can cone to Andover without paying tribute to the town’s most famous sons, The Troggs, so there’s a new one – night – only encore of Wild Thing. Considering that they only played the song for the first time at soundcheck, it takes the roof off the place, and the members of the crew like my good self who are old rockers at heart unanimously decide it has to stay in the set every night. A rousing rendition of Walk Alone neatly wraps things up, and then it’s into the town for a beer for the band and onto the bus with a Chinese for the crew., proving that the class system is still alive and well in the music business !

Loughborough Town Hall Thurs March 3rd

A brief diversion, if you will indulge me, while I lift a corner of the curtain on the five – star rock and roll swankfest that is the process of touring at this level. We’re already waaaaay ahead of the last tour insofar as we’re travelling in a big double – decker tourbus. This really does become your home on wheels; you’ve got your comfy little bunk, there are a couple of lounges, a galley with microwave and fridge, a loo, at least two TVs with DVD player and usually a games console or two, so it’s not exactly slumming it in the back of a Transit. There are some drawbacks, however. For a start, the loo is downstairs from the bunks, and negotiating your way down the stairs of a moving bus when your bladder is screaming for blessed release is an interesting experience. There’s also the ubiquitous “ no logs in the bogs “ rule that applies to all tour buses, whereby you have to dispose of your….errr…solids, somewhere beyond the confines of the onboard khazi. Under normal circumstances this is quite manageable, but when you’ve partaken of a botty – scouring chicken madras from the Golden Bengal in a moment of drunken weakness, then, my friend, you are in for a night of buttock-clenching, eye-watering hell. There’s also the fact that you’ve got eleven or twelve blokes in fairly close proximity, and you can easily have a situation where someone in a back bunk just wants to go to sleep, whilst everyone else wants to recreate then last days of Caligula’s Rome in the rear lounge, and this can make for a somewhat tetchy atmosphere. Luckily there are no such wild excesses on this tour, and the most radical thing that’s likely to happen is when someone takes the last two slices of bread to make toast, or moves someone else's slippers, but you get my drift. There’s also the little issue of hygiene. I must admit that the Booties tour party is much more fragrant than the usual tribe of band and crew, and we’ve got more than a few who like nothing better than tidying up the kitchen and tutting when someone leaves a cup out after they’ve used it. This is all good stuff, and makes for a nice, clean bus. One thing we don’t have on board, however, is a shower, so we’re dependent on the venues having them. Most people tend to wake up, have a shower, get dressed and go about their daily business, but what happens with us, especially the crew, is that we wake up , get a couple of tea if we’re lucky then go straight to the load –in. The band have got the chance to shower during the day before or after soundcheck, but we don’t, so we try and grab one whenever we can. Often the only option is after the show, and this isn’t ideal when you’ve got a caretaker looking at his watch and muttering under his breath about how he's missing the Corrie omnibus or some such cobblers. When you’re touring as we are, one of the things that really makes a difference is when you go to a venue which makes you welcome, where the facilities are good and where you feel like you’re working with the people there rather than against them. We haven’t been anywhere yet ( even Stockport ! ) where we’ve had any problems, but I have to say that Loughborough Town Hall is one of those venues that you actively look forward to visiting as a crew. Kev and Andy, the house technicians, are two of the friendliest guys you’ll ever come across on the circuit. Nothing’s too much trouble for them, and they’ll do things like bring you tea and snacks without being asked, just because that’s the way they are. In the grand scheme of things this may not seem like very much, but believe me, this kind of hospitality is gold to us. They excel themselves today; apart from the statutory buckets of tea, they bring plates of sandwiches and posh nibbles that would be more at home on a Hampstead dining table than in the hands of six hairy – arsed road crew, but they totally hit the spot. To people who are used to dining on Ginster’s finest products at a motorway services at about three am, this is manna from heaven. Everything goes in and up really quickly today, and there’s also a vey nice backstage area where the band manage to get showered and changed, so all in all there’s a relaxed feel about today . Even the soundcheck slips by quickly, and we’ve got the rare bonus of a totally clear hour before the doors open. When we played here last year we got a really good crowd and a fantastic response, so we’re hoping that this year lives up to it. Sales have been good, too, so all the portents are in our favour, and another good sign is when the audience laugh and cheer at the film footage of the intro. Three songs in and we’re home and dry. The band just click into top gear, and on nights like this you can see why Elton John was so fulsome in his praise….they really ARE the best in the business, and the crowd play their part in making this one of the finest nights so far. We thought Croydon was our best reaction yet, but this has shaded it....