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                                                                                                      (The further down, the older the posts.)

                                                                                                                       2012.

25th January.  I don't have that much to talk about these days, so this first entry will be a bit short but sweet. I've up-dated the Gig Guide with all the PA and Lighting Hire gigs that are in the pipeline at the moment, so you can see we're still out there sometimes! I've had a couple of enquiries about joining Bands as a full-time Bassist, but they haven't been for me. I'll willingly play cheesy shite at Dep Gigs and the odd Wedding, but it's fucking soul-destroying being expected to play them week in, week out round the Pubs (and Clubs). Never mind, I'm still having a canny time of being a bedroom Bassist, playing along with an eclectic mix of songs on YouTube to keep my hand in, and keeping myself up to scratch with my Music-Reading when I get offered the odd gig where it's needed. I started the year off at a posh Dance with a 16-piece 'Big Band' and I had to wear a fucking tie!!!! but it was a blast, and the gentlemen involved say I should be getting a shout a couple of more times this year. It makes a change from head-banging, and it saves my rickety old legs, because I get to sit on a big, comfy stool all night! :-) That's it for now, because I'm just sitting in front of the telly vegetating most nights, so I won't bore you with mediocre tales of life 'off the road'. Take care, and catch you later.

                                                                                                                       2011.

15th December.  I've always hated Football with a passion, as I simply can't see the attraction of standing in the cold, watching twenty two over-paid, under-talented prima-donna's kick a ball (and each other) for 90 minutes, diving around with gay abandon, trying their best to con a referee into giving them a penalty or a free kick, when what they truly deserve is a well-delivered kick in the fucking bollocks. The hatred is also directed towards members of the public who call themselves 'fans' because every match just seems to be another excuse for getting fucking rat-arsed and causing trouble wherever they are. My feelings were somewhat justified on Saturday night last, when I turned up at The Duke of Albany in Washington for my dep gig with Witchkraft, to find a bunch of these annoying piss-heads entrenched at three of the tables in the middle of the Bar. Seriously, they were that fucking legless, it might as well have been New Years Eve, because it's been a long time since I saw people in that state, that early in the evening. We set the gear up amidst more shouting, bawling, caterwauling 'football songs' interspersed with the foulest language imaginable, all at a volume that the deaf could have heard, and you can see what a night we were going to have. At one point, I was stood outside having a smoke, and watched at least three couples walk in, turn around and sod off elsewhere when they saw and heard what was going on inside. I personally knew one of the lads who left with his Wife, and his parting words were "good luck with that lot tonight, Al". There was no way they were getting asked to move on either, seeing as the only staff in evidence were a couple of young barmaids, and there was no way they were going to say anything, let alone try to DO anything about the gentlemen in question. The lad who books the Bands came in, apologised, and asked us to go on a bit later, in the hope that they would get bored and all fuck off home, which we did, but by then the damage had been done. There were a few late arrivals, but the Band ended up playing to about twenty people for the rest of the night, and it seemed like they all had some sort of disability which prevented them lifting their arms and hitting their hands together. The only solace I took from the night was that the Band were as tight as a gnat's chuff, so we enjoyed that bit, and I got to meet their new Bass Player, Roy. He seems a great bloke, and he had been on Holiday, which explained me being called in to help out when the last lad dropped them in the shit. Of course, I had to go and fuck up in front of another sodding Bass Player, didn't I? Some of my colleagues on a Bass-orientated site had warned me that the lighting in there was terrible, so if you were doing anything sort of 'technical' that required you to look at the fretboard, you were fucked. Trying to be a smartarse, I took a little bank of spotlights along to stick at my side of the stage, and shoved my old Precision with battery-powered fret markers in the back of the van. Setting up, we found that the only place we could stick the spotlights was in front of us, which meant they shone straight in my eyes, so the bastards were as much use as a chocolate fireguard, and the frigging battery on my fret lights went flat after two fucking songs! No problem for most of the set, but a right pain in the fucking arse when it came to playing Mr Big by Free. I ended up hunched over the Bass like a myopic old twat, trying like fuck to see where the hell my fingers were, and to say I 'fluffed' a couple of notes would just about cover it. TWAT! That was my last gig for this year, and it's just a shame that it couldn't have gone a bit better, but I've had worse gigs in the past, and at least there wasn't a fucking fight! Catch you out there sometime, so here's hoping you all have a safe Christmas and New Year.

7th December.  I spent Saturday night with a Christmas Tree stuck up my arse! Not as bad as it sounds, because it was set up in the corner of the stage area reserved for me, and to say it was a tight fit on there would be no exaggeration. I was standing in for Witchkraft at the Old Fox in Felling, and it's been years since I played there, so I hadn't a fucking clue what to expect. There has been a fair bit of cash spent 'doing the place up' and I have to say, it looks better for it. We said that it looked like a nice boozer to have a quiet mid-week drink, because it has that 'Olde Worlde' feel to it, with a thick carpet underfoot and plenty of wood on show. There were a few people in that I knew already, so I was able to have a bit of a chat while I was waiting to go on, and apparently the place has it's 'moments' with the odd punter here and there, but there was none of that in evidence on the night. It was just a bloody good night to be in a Rock Band, because that was exactly the kind of Music they wanted to hear, and that's precisely what they got. Cliff the Drummer was 'dahn sarf' for his Birthday weekend, so the lads enlisted the services of young Lloyd Croft, who had just returned from a few months working away in Bahrain. We took the piss all night, because he hadn't got the slightest bit of a sun tan at all! He reckoned he was sleeping through the day, then working and playing all night, so he hardly ever got to SEE the Sun, never mind get a colour change out of it! We'd worked together in the past, so there were no worries about how each other played, and it turned out to be a canny night to be in the Rhythm Section. Mal and Mick did their usual thing of working the crowd to the maximum, with a bit of extra cheese thrown in because Lloyd didn't know some of the usual Set List, and it was precisely  what the crowd wanted. Everyone had a sodding good time of it, including the ones who were that pissed that they fell asleep in their seats during the second set! It was a shame that I couldn't find the switch for the lights on the tree, because every time the fuckers flashed on and off, there was an audible 'click' through my gear, but it was only annoying during the break between songs. The rest of the time I didn't notice it, because I was too busy making a bit of noise myself!  During the night I got talking to Jim (sorry-Whalebone Pete) from The Bandits, and he asked me if I was interested in joining his mate's Band on Bass. I had to decline, because they hadn't been on the road very long, and I'm too fucking old to start from scratch again, slavering round Landlords, trying to get them to give you a Gig when they've "never heard of you, Sunshine". The Pub Game is getting a bit tight now, so every penny counts, which means Bar Owners are trying to only book 'established' Bands these days, in the hope that they will bring a guaranteed audience with them, to make the tills ring a bit. I feel sorry for any young lads (or lasses) who are trying to begin a career in Music nowadays, because most of them are knocking their heads against a brick wall, trying to get someone to give them a chance to show what they can do. Never mind, back to Witchkraft, and it made my night when the bloke in charge came up and said "Fuck me, that was the best I've ever heard the Band. It was as boomy as fuck last time they played here, but it was balanced fucking great tonight!" I'd been saying for quite a while that the old Bass Player was always too loud for the Band, and they had to turn up to compete with him, which meant they were steadily getting a reputation as "ower fucking loud and ower fucking Bassy" in quite a few places. This in turn was costing them a few gigs in smaller places that they would have rocked the fuck out of if they'd just told the noisy sod to turn down a bit. I just hope they keep the new Bass Player in check, whoever it is, because they are definite crowd-pleasers round here. On that note, I don't know what's happening with the new lad, because I've been asked to jump into the breach again this Saturday, at The Duke of Albany in Washington, so I get to enjoy myself for yet ANOTHER night. With Cliff being back behind the kit, and me having some free time to rehearse, they should be able to include the couple of new songs that they had recently introduced into the act, which gives me something else to look forward to. See you with an update after next weekend. 

27th November.  I have to say that last night was one of the most pleasing of the last few years, and totally unexpected at that. I turned up at The Wheat Sheaf in Sunderland, to find myself the only member of the Band in the vicinity, and when I looked inside, it was packed with people wearing red and white striped shirts. They were practically all bladdered, which was hardly surprising, with it being a 'Match Day' but it was a bit out of the ordinary to see the place still full of Football Supporters that late in the day. I was fucked if I was going to carry my gear through the fuckers on my own, so I sat in the van and sparked up while I waited for the rest of the lads to arrive. Mal and Mick turned up first, and had a quick look through the side door, and with it still being fairly early in the evening, decided to have a tab and a bit patter about nothing in particular until the crowd thinned a bit. Nothing seemed to be happening after a while, so I went in to talk to the Bar Staff about getting the raised area cleared to enable us to set the gear up, and was surprised to see most of the crowd had gone! The sneaky sods had been using the other side door to walk to the Taxi Rank or Bus Stops nearby, so we were able to start one of the nasty bits of the evening-carrying the equipment in and setting it up. With everyone mucking in together, it didn't take long, and we were able to stick our feet up and have a Pint, while the last of the Football Supporters gradually drifted off home to be replaced by the music afficionadoes. By the time we began, there was a healthy sized crowd in again, and they were 'up for it' from the first song to the last, immediately dancing along to everything we played, with bursts of cheering and applause every time we announced the next song. One drunken bugger kept shouting "Foo Fighters!" so Mick announced the next song was by them, and just for him, then we proceeded to break into a couple of Led Zeppelin songs, and he was so pissed he couldn't actually tell the difference, so he was happy for the rest of the night. :-)  In the second set, we 'broke' a couple of the dancers, who had to sit down for the rest of the gig because the pace was much too much for them, but they still kept the noise to a maximum by stamping their feet, cheering and whistling throughout the rest of the night, and generally having a bloody good time. All too soon (for me) the end of the last song signalled a frenzy of back-slapping, compliments and general comments of "we've got to have the Band back soon" which almost made the next bit worthwhile-carrying the gear back out....... Still, I have to say it was worth it, sitting at home with my ears buzzing, fucking wrecked and necking a bastard big mug of coffee and stuffing a lush Supper down my neck, and giving a run-down of the night's events to Wor Lass, who had made the afore-mentioned lush Supper. I eventually got to bed about three-ish, and was out like a light in seconds. Roll on next week!

19th November.  I seriously thought that I had nothing on for the rest of the year, but the inevitable telephone call out of the blue always seems to turn up to keep me happy. I've been invited to help the lads in Witchkraft out for a couple of gigs, because their Bassist has dropped them in the shit. He told them he was joining another Band, but wouldn't be leaving till the end of the month, then proceeded to fuck off early, so for the next couple of Saturdays, I'll be out of the house and having a bit fun. The good thing is, they're both pretty local gigs to me, so I hopefully won't get "THE LOOK" off Wor Lass for getting back in at JesusfuckingChrist'oclock in the bloody morning! Having said that, the Band always seem to go well at local Gigs, so I won't be making her any concrete promises about what time I'll DEFINITELY get home, because sometimes the crowd simply refuse to let the buggers off the stage when they've got the dance floor full of happily inebriated punters.......

15th November.  I had my eyes (and ears) opened in no uncertain manner over the past weekend. I had always been slightly covetous of Ampeg gear in the past, so I was chuffed when I could finally afford to buy an Ampeg 4x10" cabinet  a couple of years ago. It surprised me that I was disappointed with it, and ended up selling it and replacing it with another Trace-Elliot instead. This past weekend confirmed what I thought in the first place. On Friday night, we were doing the PA for Requiem at The Ropery in Sunderland, and their Bassist brought along his brand new Ampeg light-weight Amp and Cab. It was a joy to lift it into place, because it weighed about as much as a big box of chocolates, and it really looked the part as well. Then came the sound check..... It had the usual Ampeg characteristic of a weird standing-wave, which meant it was knocking the back walls out, but the poor bugger couldn't hear himself on stage! I'd had the same problem with mine, having to stand out in the audience with my wireless transmitter plugged in, to give me some sort of idea what it sounded like on stage, but I had the luxury of using a Trace-Elliot 1x15" stacked under mine, so I could at least hear something while I was playing. By the end of their first set, I had taken him out of the mix entirely, he was that loud, but I was still getting people telling me to turn the Guitars up, because "you've got that fucking Bass FAR too loud, man!" As usual, the sound guy gets it in the fucking neck, even when it isn't his fault.......  Never mind, they had a successful gig, after I'd nearly 'maxed out' the sliders for the Guitars and Drums to try to get them as loud as him. On that note, I have to congratulate the Drummer on his first Gig with the Band. There were a couple of 'looks' between the lads while they were on-stage, but I was listening carefully, and heard nothing amiss all night. If he got anything wrong, believe me, the audience didn't hear it. A nice easy load-in and out meant I wasn't too bad, despite having twisted my frigging knee earlier in the week, popping the sodding cartilege in the process.<----> On to the Sunday night, and it was off to The Copt Hill in Seaham for PA duties with Black Rose. The last time we had worked there, the Staff had been caught out by our early attendance, and had to rush around like blue-arsed flies, getting the tables out of the way from the meals they serve in the afternoons, but this time it was all sorted, and they were just sticking the last pile of chairs in the storage area when we turned up. Imagine my surprise when we walked in to the place, and found that the only clear area was the "stage" bit in the corner, and the rest of the room was laid out like a German Bierkeller, with the tables all joined together widthways across the free space. On making enquiries, we were told that it was a 'Wine Tasting Meeting' and that it would be 'only about an hour or so' until they were finished, but we could still get the gear in as long as we were quiet. Quiet!?!? We did our best, but have you heard the fucking noise a solid-wheel sack barrow loaded with a couple of Bass Bins makes when you roll it across a wooden floor???  After a load of fannying about using just the other small sack barrow with the rubber wheels, we got the gear in and set up, but we had to wait until they were finished before we could switch it all on, which meant the lads in the Band had all turned up and brought their gear in before we could try it all out. After a few minutes of tip-toeing round discarded Guitar and Drum cases, Amp covers and the like that were strewn all over, we were finally able to fire everything up and make sure it was all working properly before we got the lads plugged in to the system. We had a bit of annoying feedback at the beginning, but we found out what was causing it when I looked across the front of the PA stacks. We had everything lined up at the beginning, but the Vocalist had pushed his monitor just a couple of inches too far forward, so it was just in front of the PA, and causing a 'loop'. We cured it by the simple expedient of turning one stack out, then pulling the other one forward a foot or so, and everything went more or less easily from then on. Back to the Ampeg saga...... The Bassist in Black Rose has an Ampeg 8x10"as his backline, and the same thing happened as had happened on Friday. He couldn't hear himself in the 'stage' area, but I thought the wooden partitions at the back of the room were going to collapse with the volume! I ended up having to put as much of his Bass as I could through his vocal monitor, so he had some idea of what he was playing, while once again, people moaned to muggins here that "you've got that Bass FAR too fucking loud, marra!". Once again, up went the other sliders until I got the volumes more or less equal, which unfortunately meant that the Band was really too loud for the size of the room. It wasn't too much of a problem though, because most of the audience was composed of die-hard Thin Lizzy fans, so a bit of excess noise didn't phase them too much. It turned out to be another successful gig, with the lads buggering off home fairly quickly afterwards, leaving Craig and I plenty of space to strew the gear around while we were packing it away, then use BOTH sack barrows to take it out to the van, with there being nobody left to annoy. :-) Right, that's probably it for a while, because we haven't got any more PA gigs before the end of the year, and it doesn't look like I'm going to be needed for any Dep jobs in the near future, so I'll say Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year now; Just in case........

29th October.  I got quite a nice surprise when I went to pick the Bass Bin up after  it had been repaired. There had been surprisingly little wrong with it, and the lad said I could probably have fixed it myself, if I'd had the components on hand. Sod that! He knows exactly what he's doing, so it was worth the money he asked to take any worries away about it getting done properly. I got a 'phone call from a couple of mates of mine, whose Bassist was unavailable for 'family reasons' and lashed up to a Wedding 'do' in the wilds of Northumberland, which was an easy pay-day, seeing as how it was a set consisting of old Standards that I had played a thousand times in the past. Only at a Wedding would you get asked for 'HI-Ho Silver Lining/Mustang Sally/Knock Three Times' straight after one another! I got a canny back-hander for it as well, which meant I was able to put the money together with the lumper I got from selling my gear, and pay a couple of bills that had just come in. Nice timing. On the medical front, I've had my tablets changed AGAIN, and I seem to be getting a bit more lasting relief from the Arthritis than I was up till recently. That makes life a lot less complicated, because it means I can actually say "yes" to most people who need a hand with rehearsals, dep gigs or studio work without worrying if I'm going to be able to get through the session I've been booked for. As a prime example, I was able to stand up for four hours the other night while I was standing in to help an old mate of mine audition guitarists for his new Band. His Bassist had been coerced into working late, which meant the auditions would have been right down the shitter if I hadn't been available, so I was more than happy to jump in. I've even noticed a difference while taking care of my youngest grandson during the day, because I seem to be able to last a lot longer than before when he fancies a wander round the sitting room, holding on to my hands, and I've been able to carry him for decent amounts of time when I take him out to see the fish in our pond. It was getting to be a bit of a bugger before, because he's enthralled by the way the fish move under the surface, and I hated having to carry him back in the house while he was enjoying himself. I'm also currently under-going investigations into my hearing, because it turns out that the pain-killers I've been taking for the past few years have only just been discovered to be Ototoxic. A posh word for something that fucks your lugs up as one of its side-effects, so I'm hoping there'll be something they can do about it, now that I've stopped taking them. On that happy note, I'll piss off back to obscurity for now, so take care of yourselves, and I'll be back with some more inane drivel fairly soon.  ;-)

19th October.  Saturday night saw me finally getting out of the house after a couple of weeks of boredom, to supply the PA and Lights for Black Rose. Craig and I were really looking forward to it, because is was at The Duke of Cumberland in Felling, and we've all had some bloody good nights there in the past. Shame it didn't match up to expectations. We had most of the gear set up by the time the lads arrived, so it was a simple case of wiring in all the Mic's and DI's and off we went with the sound check. That was when we found that one of the Bass Bins had decided not to work, and after fannying around for a few minutes, Craig swapped all the leads into channel B, which isn't as efficient, but still better than nowt when it's turned up full. At least we had a working Bass Bin on either side of the stage, and with a bit of judicious EQ'ing and use of the Pan knobs. we managed to get a nice balanced sound. The lads sounded really 'punchy' which was due in part to the addition of the new Bass Player, Paul, who brought along a lush Ampeg rig that would have blown the fucking windows out on it's own if he hadn't turned it down! It's a strange little set-up in the Duke nowadays, because they demolished the old stage and installed a smaller one, stuck in the corner, which is only big enough for a drum kit, meaning the rest of the lads have to play on the floor in front of it. This caused Paul a few problems, because his rig was really 'projecting' to the full venue, but with him being squashed close to the front of it, he found it difficult to hear himself on stage, despite us routing his signal to his floor monitor in front of him. Ever the consummate professional, he plugged away all night, and didn't show any of his problems to the audience, who didn't notice anyway, because he was sitting nicely in the mix out front. As far as they were concerned, they were sitting listening to a fucking good Band, and having a bloody good time of it. I had been chatting with the Manageress before the lads took to the stage, and she was shitting herself at the lack of audience, hoping that the place would be full so that she could afford the Band Fee, but from what I saw, she needn't have worried. It might have been a little strange for the lads, having to play to a few people in front of them, because the pub has had a 'conversion' done, which made it all open-plan with only a few seats round the edge of the 'Band Area', and it doesn't get packed with bodies like it did in the old days. Having said that, with it being open-plan, people can just sit in their normal places in the Bar and listen to the Band without moving from their seats, which a lot of them did. On my many sojourns into the crowd to check on the sound, I actually saw people dancing along to the music in the Bar, which was a shame, as the lads in the Band couldn't see it. Never mind, they still put on another great show, and ended up having to do a couple of encores for the folk that were sitting in front of them, which I saw was appreciated by the people in the Bar as well. Where Craig and I were sitting with the Desk, we were next to the glass-washing facilities, and they never seemed to be away from the place, so there must have been a canny bit of beer drunk during the course of the night. The Manageress seemed happy enough when she paid the Band as well, and her parting shot as Craig and I finally finished packing the van was "see you soon, lads" so there's a pretty good chance that the night might have been a successful one for her. ;-) Time for me to start ringing round some Amp Techs, to see if anybody fancies having a shot at repairing a Bass Bin in time for the next Hire Gig, which probably means spending the majority of last night's wages getting it sorted.......However, I sold my Trace-Elliot gear almost as soon as I let people know it was available, which has brought a bit of cash to the kitty, so I should have the money ready in case of any nasty surprises. I managed to get hold of another 1x15" cab to sit under the Peavey and Hartke, so at least I've still got a decent rig for any more dep gigs in the future. I'll update the Equipment page on here in the next couple of days, and it's going to look pretty fucking sparse by the time I'm finished! Right, my next night out is a PA Hire for Requiem at The Ropery in Sunderland, and it's been a while since I worked there, so I'll be able to look at the place with fresh eyes and let anyone who hasn't been for a while know how it's getting on. Catch you later.

25th September.  I've always been a bit of a pedantic twat, so I suppose I should re-name this site "BigAl(no longer)onBass.co.uk, because that would be more accurate. I had my last gig with Black Rose at The Blyth and Tyne, and it was a fucking belter to finish on. We were actually a bit worried when we first got there, because the place was deserted, with only a couple of people having a quiet pint in the Bar, which didn't seem to hold the promise of a good night. Kenny soon put our minds at rest though, when he explained that it was a late start and finish on a Saturday night, so we weren't likely to see the place filling up till at least 9'o'clock. He was proved right, so we had the place to ourselves for an inordinate amount of time, which we used wisely (we think) to fuck around with the PA and get the best sound we could for the room. It made a nice change to be able to 'tweak' everything without the normal rush that goes on prior to a gig, as the audience is usually in attendance well before the sound-check is over, and it can sometimes piss them off if they have to be subjected to feedback and constant "one, two, one, two" repetitions. When it was all sorted, we wandered out of the Fire Escape door, and stood having a natter among ourselves, as well as chatting to members of the audience with the same idea of having a couple of tabs before we started. I was the recipient of a nice little card from Hoook and Amanda, saying that they would miss my smiling face on stage (not that I'd been doing much smiling recently) and I stuck it in pride of place on top of my amp. We took to the stage for the first set, and were greeted with a massive roar of appreciation, and it just got better from there on in. Kenny wandered backwards and forwards a few times, listening to the PA at different points in the room, nipping back to the desk to make small adjustments, then sitting back happy at a job well done. The audience seemed to think it was fine as well, because there were actually people dancing at the front from the first song, and they kept the dance floor busy for most of the night. The lads in the Band surprised me with a daft presentation mid-way through the set, and gave me a framed poster of the Band as a memento. At least I didn't get fish fingers and choccy biscuits like Geordie when he left! We had a 20-minute break between sets, and we had a bloody good laugh with some of the punters who had joined us for smokes again, before going back into the oven for the second set. If anything, this was even better, because most of the people were 'well-oiled' enough by this time to really let themselves go. We played songs that hadn't seen the light of day for a while, in order to stretch the set out and keep them happy, but even after playing till well after midnight, they still wanted more, so we had to give them a bundle of encores. I was fucking wrecked when I came off stage, and I thank fuck that the van was just outside the back doors and I've got wheels on my cabs. I managed to get the van packed in fairly short order, then came back in for a natter with Carl and Linda, who had been videoing the gig for us. They had brought a bloody big buffet along with them for after the gig, and it felt fucking awful refusing to have anything, because I just wanted to go home and take some painkillers, which I did. I said my farewells to everyone, and set off home, where I left everything in the van, collapsed into a chair and had a peaceful cuppa to round the night off. That's it then. It seemed strange emptying the van for the last time this morning, and stowing my gear in the corner of the spare room until I get it sold, knowing that I would probably never set foot on a stage again. Having said that, the fact that I fucked my back carrying everything into the house vividly reminded me of the reasons for jacking it all in before it fucked me up completely! I'll still be updating the site from time to time, especially when we have PA Hire gigs, so there should still be something to read for folks with an interest in the local Music Scene. I'll end there for now, and hope to catch some of you out there sometime-just not from the stage very often. :-)

17th September.  I just got in from my penultimate gig, and all I can say is - one down, one to go! Steels lived up to it's 'killer' rep, because it was fucking pissing down when I drove through to Sunderland, and the combination of wet boots and those fucking stupid checker-plate stairs tends to make it a dangerous experience. I was walking up the stairs, carrying my biggest cab, and I nearly bounced it off Smoulty's head, because my boot slid practically the full length of one of the treads, throwing me right off balance. The poor bastard was just sitting at the side, rolling himself a hard-earned smoke after carrying all his PA in, and he nearly got a fractured skull for his trouble. Somebody is going to seriously injure, or even kill themselves, one of these days, and I bet nobody in the Club gives a toss. (Till they get sued.)  Believe me, I took my time getting the rest of my gear in, and I was still knackered by the time I had it all set up but I snagged a chair in the dressing room, and had a couple of my finest pain-killers washed down with John Smiths to keep the pain at bay for a while. An easy sound check, apart from a bit of bother with one of the monitors feeding back, and then we were able to relax. Well, the others were, because on the way to the gig, one of my windscreen wipers had decided to disintegrate, so I nipped out to the van to have a bash at fixing it. I was halfway through doing precisely that, when my phone rang, and it was Ben, asking where I was because we were supposed to be on stage NOW. With the Bingo being knocked on the head for Band Nights, friends had told me that the Bands were starting a bit later than they used to, with not having to rush the first set off before the Bingo started, but that was not the case with us. Of course, if anybody had bothered to mention the earlier start time to ME, then I wouldn't have been fannying around in the fucking van. Never mind, we started four minutes later than planned, because that was the time it took me to get upstairs, hoy a shirt on, and join the lads on stage, where the fun began. There was a decent crowd in, and they were really up for listening to some Thin Lizzy, and we put our hearts and souls into it, thanks to having a brilliant audience to 'feed' off. After we finished the first set, we had a twenty minute break, so I pissed off back to the van, to cool down, fix the wiper blade and have a smoke, and this time I kept an eye on my watch, making it back with five minutes to spare. The second set was even better, with people yelling requests out, and we were able to oblige most of them, apart from the silly buggers that were shouting for stuff we had already played in the first set! We were all sweating buckets before we even got as far as the three encores, and we were all shattered when we finally left the stage, with people still shouting for more. Then it was time for the worst bit of the night, carrying all my stuff back down those bastard stairs when I could hardly walk, but once again, I took my time and got it all safely packed away. Of course, by this time, the rain had stopped and it had turned in to a fine night, so I needn't have fixed the sodding wiper anyway. Twat! I said good night to the lads, made my way home, and walked in to a steaming mug of coffee and Bacon sandwiches made by Wor Lass, bless her little cotton socks, then it was just a case of relaxing in front of the telly while the adrenaline levels went back to normal and allowed another dose of pain killers to work. Thank FUCK I never have to carry my gear up those stairs ever again................

9th September.   It's plastered all over Facebook now, so I can finally reveal that I'm packing it all in. I've been having real problems with my fucking arthritis over the past few months, and it can only get worse as I get older. With me being an old twat to start with, I thought now would be a good time to fuck off into the sunset, and hang my Bass up completely. What really brought it home to me was watching some recent videos of the Band, and I was annoyed to see that I had stopped smiling. I hadn't realised, up to that point, just how much the frigging pain was affecting my demeanour on stage, but I had started to resemble some miserable fucker who was just there to make the numbers up, and there was no way I was going to let that continue. I'm only doing another two gigs with Black Rose, Steels Club in Sunderland next week, then the week after, I'll be bowing out after my final appearance at The Blyth and Tyne, up in Blyth itself. I have to be honest here, and say that the relief I feel is palpable, knowing that I only have to carry Bass gear that weighs as much as a small moon into the venue, play a full gig, then carry the fucker out again when I can hardly walk upright, another twice before I can put my feet up for good. A decent Lottery win would have changed all that, because there have been some fucking good offers on lightweight gear around, thanks to the recession, but there's no way I could afford to buy it as things stand at the moment. A shame, but everything comes to an end eventually, and it's that time for me to admit I'm fucked. Craig and I are still doing the PA on an ad hoc basis, but only at Venues where the load-in is on the ground floor, and just as a favour for mates, because he's having problems with his shoulder, and the twats at the NHS are in no fucking hurry to get him admitted and operated on, so we've both got to be a bit more careful in carrying gear nowadays. Having said that, it isn't going to be as painful in the long run, because we get to sit on our lazy arses all night after carrying the gear in, so get a chance to recuperate before humping it out again. While the Band's are on stage, we get away with doing fuck all except pushing sliders and buttons, and even a crippled old fucker like me can manage that. ;-)  

3rd September. Back in the day, I used to play in the Working Mens Clubs round the country, and there were some strange nights, where the audience just sat like statues all night, then exploded into rapturous applause at the end of your sets, demanding encores, prompting the Concert Chairman to tell you at the end that you "went down a storm, they loved you", and re-booking you there and then for another Gig. It was like stepping into a Time Machine at Friday's gig, because it brought back all sorts of memories of those days. I know quite a few residents of Crawcrook, where the Rising Sun pub is located, and they had warned me that the place is a little bit behind the times as far as Rock Bands go, but I didn't know how accurate they were going to be. I got there just after 6pm as usual, and I pulled the van up at the front doors ready to load the gear in, only to be flagged down by Craig, who had arrived a few minutes before me and had been in to have a look round. The front access was impossibly tight, with very little chance of getting a Bass Bin through the doors, so we were directed to use the side entrance, through the Conservatory. The fun bit was reversing up a little driveway that was only three inches wider than the van, then having to climb out of the window, because there was a raised lawn area at the side of the driveway which stopped me opening the bloody door! Never mind, the load in itself was easy, but we ended up stacking the gear just inside the doors, because they have to move the Pool Table to give the Band a 'stage area' and there were several lads playing that weren't going to move until they had finished their games. We were delayed that much that Ben turned up while we were still stacking the PA cabs, followed closely by Hoooook and Doddsy, so we ended up getting in each others way, trying to set up while they were still carrying their equipment in, which really rattled my fucking cage. I mean, we had made the effort to get there early, so as to avoid the inevitable 'log jam' but as so often happens, the Pub view Musicians as a necessary evil to get people through the doors, and hardly ever seem to give a thought to the setting-up process which has to be gone through every time in order to put a decent show on. We got everything wired up as quickly as possible, then I fucked off outside for a smoke while Craig did the final wiring and adjustment of the Drum mic's, then it was sound check time, which was a bit of a faff on with thick carpeting and multiple support pillars simultaneously reflecting the sound waves and deadening them, but we eventually got it all sounding right. Then the hard work started.....The main body of the audience are packed four deep between the bar and the support pillars, with extra bodies round the corner in the Conservatory, so we were playing to two separate audiences, neither of which was very voluble or mobile. There was polite applause, but whenever Ben asked them if they were enjoying it or if it was too loud, you could practically see the fucking tumbleweed rolling across the floor! From a Band point of view, there is nothing worse than getting no fucking feedback from the people you're playing to, so let's just say that concentration wavered and some mistakes were made during the course of the evening. When the second set finally laboured to it's conclusion, we thanked the audience and said good night, then nearly shit ourselves when the fucking place ERUPTED with whistles, cheers, and screams for more. See what I mean about being transported back in time? We ended up playing a couple of the more popular Thin Lizzy songs, because some of the Album tracks seemed to have fallen on deaf ears, and were rewarded with even more rapturous applause to finish the night off. While carrying the gear back out, our arms were sore with people wanting to shake our hands and telling us we were "the best Band that had played there in ages" and they "couldn't wait to have us back" which ended a rather surreal experience in some style. A slow trundle through some quiet B-roads on the way home gave me time to reflect on the events of the night, but by the time I got home I was still non-plussed by it all. Back to the present in a couple of weeks at Steel's Club in Sunderland. At least they applaud there if you're good, or throw stuff if you're shit, so at least you know where you stand!

29th August.   I started the weekend with another 'doubler' for me, playing Bass and sorting PA and lights out for Black Rose at TJ Doyles in Sunderland. Craig and I got there at 6pm again, because we were having to do it all ourselves with Glen being otherwise engaged with family stuff for a couple of nights. The load-in was a bit of a bugger, because we had just opened the van doors when it fucking PISSED down! It was made a bit more precarious by having to carry the gear up a fairly slippery set of wooden stairs then across the decking to the back door. We had to hold an old umbrella over the gear while carrying it, and the 'waterproof' coat I was wearing ended up letting the rain through and making me look like a fucking drowned rat. We still managed to get most of the gear set up before the rest of the lads arrived, and I was able to stand in front of my fan, drying out a bit whilst tuning up the Basses. Craig had all the wiring well in hand, so there was no need for me to get in his way, trying to help. The sound-check was a bit of a twat, because we had problems with three different microphone leads buggering up, one after the other, but there weren't many people in at the time, so we didn't piss anybody off unduly. When we were all done, I was sitting at the desk, sorting out CD's to play for background music, when the Manager (I think) came across and told me to turn EVERYTHING down, because he thought it was too loud for the size of his Pub. Naturally, I grabbed the Volume Slider and dragged it back down about an inch, which kept him happy. Of course, he didn't know it was an unused Aux channel slider I had pulled back and not the Master Volume, because I hate having an argument about semantics with people. We've done the sound long enough to know that a PA in an empty Pub blows the back walls out, but as soon as it fills up, it drastically reduces the volume. We were proved right, because, after having the Pub packed and bouncing all night, playing a bundle of encores, (all of which were shouted for by the Manager as well) he came across and said "you lads certainly know the difference between a full sound and just noise. I'd have you back anytime." We thanked him for the compliment, and Craig told me to sit supping my coke while he packed all the wires away. When he had done that, I dove out and got the van pulled round the front of the Pub, which I hadn't been able to do when we arrived, which made the load-out a hell of a lot easier, as it was all on the flat, and we were able to utilise our faithful sack barrows to get it all packed in double-quick time........Then came the Saturday night.......We were just on PA duties for Requiem at The Wheatsheaf, still in Sunderland, but on the opposite side of the river. I had played it a couple of times in the past, so I wasn't expecting a great deal from the night, and by Christ I wasn't wrong. We had the gear all set up and working by 6.30, and the minute I put a bit of background music on to test the speakers, the arseholes on the pool table started mouthing off about it being "too fucking loud for in here, you Geordie bastards." I politely asked if they would be staying all night to listen to the Band, and they said no. They were having a couple of games of pool before moving on elsewhere, so they seemed a bit taken aback when I told them to go and fuck themselves, and complain to some cunt that gave a shit, because I'd wrap a mic stand round their bastard heads if they didn't shut the fuck up. They left. Like I said, I had some not-too-pleasant memories of the Wheatsheaf, as it had always been a bit rough and ready, but I soon changed my mind after another hour or so. What a fucking chav-infested shit-hole it's become. The Band got their gear in and set up, we sound-checked, then they wandered off to the bar to get a Pint, leaving me at the mercy of some pisshead cunt who constantly asked when I was getting up to play. He couldn't seem to get it through his fucking thick skull that I wasn't in the Band, and even offered to "bash the drums a bit, if I got my guitar out." I motioned him through the side door, and as he staggered out, I asked the Doormen to bar the twat for the rest of the night, because he was going to end up causing bother if he was allowed back in. They agreed, said he was always trouble, and told him to fuck off home. The Band went on at 9.15 as planned, and played a damn good first set, after which a lad I know came over to me and said he thought the left PA stack was a bit quiet. I hadn't noticed earlier, because I was sitting next to it, and the arsehole had distracted me from doing a proper job, so I was grateful for the comment. On investigation, we found that the 'phase switch' on the Bass Bin had been moved in transit, and had knocked the volume down on one side. A quick flick, and we were back in business-not that it mattered much, because that side was directed at the empty pool table and the corridor to the bogs anyway. There also seemed to be a problem with one of the guitarist's amps, because the output was dropping all night, in rather big 'steps' so I was having to constantly push his volume slider up to keep him at the same level as the rest of the Band. Apparently not quickly enough for some hairy fucker, who came up behind me, poked me in the neck and screamed "why do you keep turning the guitarist down!?!?" in my ear. There were people up dancing by this time, so I refrained from decking the antsy little fucker, and just walked the ten feet to the side door and had a calming smoke while keeping an eye on the PA and Craig. I was really glad when the lads had finished another good set and done their encores, so we could pack up and fuck off home. Just in case you think I'm exaggerating, someone actually posted this comment on Facebook. "At least they started fighting and the Cops were called after the Band had finished playing." Guess whose PA isn't going back there-ever?

23rd August.  I had a PA Hire for Requiem at Houghton Comrades on Friday night, and the last time I worked there with Black Rose, Smoulty was supplying the sound and lights, and had made a point of turning up at four in the afternoon to begin carrying all the stuff in. I'm not that fucking daft, so Craig and I turned up just after six, knowing that would give us plenty of time to get everything sorted before the Band arrived. Unfortunately, the fucking place was shut! After half-an-hour sitting like spare pricks at a wedding, I started staring through the windows, to see if I could see any posters advertising Bands or anything else that might give an indication that the frigging place was going to open that night. There was a glimmer of hope at around twenty to seven, when a young lad showed up, tried the side door, and on finding it locked, sat on the wall and made a call on his mobile. Ten minutes later, somebody finally turned up and unlocked the place. It made it more of a chore, having to fanny around carrying stuff in and trying to get it set up while the Band were doing the same thing, but we managed, and were soon necking a welcome Pint after the sound check was out of the way. The Holiday Season is still here, so there weren't as many in the audience as usual for a Friday night, which was a real shame, because the ones that were absent missed a fucking good night by a rapidly improving Band. Some new songs had been drafted into the set since the last time we had worked with the lads, and they were sounding much tighter now. I still don't personally care for the couple of Instrumentals that they play, but the audience liked them and that's who they're trying to please, so that worked out well. They got a damn good reception, and had to play a couple of encores before they were allowed to go home. An easy load-out followed for Craig and I, then we went home as well........The Sunday was a 'doubler' for me, because we were supplying the PA and Lights for Black Rose as well as me playing Bass, so we enlisted the welcome assistance of Glen, who was extremely obliging by carrying most of the heavy stuff (the fit bastard!) which meant I only had to worry about setting the lights up and plugging everything in before the sound check. As usual it was so fucking easy to get a decent mix for the Band, as we've worked together long enough now to know what's needed to 'blend' the instruments together for a good sound mix. The gig itself was fucking amazing, because we've always been popular at The Marquis of Granby, but with it being Sue's Birthday as well (the Landlady) all her mates had come along for a night out, and they thoroughly enjoyed themselves as well. Ben spent a lot of the night sneaking sideways to my side of the stage to get a bit of cool air from the fan on top of my stack, because it was bastard warm in there with all the bodies crammed into the place. With it being a Sunday night, we were supposed to finish early, but on hearing the screams for encores, Sue just shrugged her shoulders, mouthed the words "carry on" and let us play a few more songs to keep the assembled throng from tearing us limb from limb! We were fucking knackered by the time we finally finished, but by fuck it was worth it. After we had switched everything off, and spent ages chatting to everyone who wanted to natter to the Band, there was a bit of a shock as we were finally putting the last of the gear in the van, as Glen and I simultaneously received a text saying Wor Lass and my Daughter were at A&E with my Grandson, as he had fallen and hit his head, so they were getting him checked out to be on the safe side. Ben kindly hoyed Glen in his car and fucking flew down there, while I was trundling along in the van, trying to get home as quickly as possible. With having a couple of consecutive, fairly energetic gigs under my belt, I could hardly fucking walk by the time I got home, so it was pointless going to the Hospital, because I would have been more of a hindrance than a help. I just sat by the phone waiting for somebody to ring me, to let me know what was happening. As it turned out, the bairn was fine, but the lasses had been commended by the Medical Staff for bringing him in, because it's always better to be safe than sorry with any kind of head injury, let alone to a six-month-old baby. We finally got to bed just after three in the morning, tired but relieved, and very very happy. After a bloody good long sleep, the bairn was his usual smiley self the next day, so all's well that ends well, thank fuck.

9th August.  Well, we did the Three Tuns gig with Black Rose, but this time I came prepared! We've got a couple of fucking big industrial type fans in among the PA equipment, and I made a point of sorting them out to take them to the gig. It was still hot for most of the night, especially with all the bodies in there, but at least it was bearable for a change. Normally I'd be flopping around, gasping like a frigging fish out of water and grabbing my inhalers at the end of each set, but not this time. There were a couple of our mates who attended, and we were surprised to see them as they had already told us that they would be in Holiday that week, but they were victims of the Holiday Firm that went 'bust' the previous week, so they were stuck at home, and had decided the best way to get over it was to have a night on the piss with a Band they enjoyed watching. It was the debut of the Acoustic bit of the act in England as well, and it seemed to go down pretty well with the assembled  throng, so there MAY be more of the same, sometime in the future. After two and a half hours, we were well wrecked, but smart-arse here had it covered. I remembered the last time we played there, so along with the massive fans, I took a fucking big sack barrow as well. At the end of the night, it was simply a case of sticking my gear on it and dragging it to the van, and after a couple of fairly painless trips, it was all loaded and I could still walk! Home to a welcome mug of coffee and some scran that Wor Lass had prepared for my arrival, then off to bed after the adrenaline subsided......On the Saturday night, I had been asked to do a 'dep' gig with Witchkraft, so I trundled off down the A19 to Wingate, and landed up at The Fir Tree just as the other lads in the Band were arriving. It's another easy load-in, and the gear was up and ready for the off in no time flat. Shame about the audience-or lack of one! It was one of those nights where there were a LOT of popular Bands playing in the area, and the rest of the Pubs are on Bus Routes and the like, whereas the Fir Tree seems a bit out of the way for some. On any other weekend, the lads would have filled it, and in fact have done so when I've worked with them in the past, but it just wasn't to be on this occasion. I had a bit of a lucky break in the first set as well, because my medication had recently been changed, and made my arthritis a bit more manageable. What's that got to do with the first set? Simple-the last couple of times I worked with the Band, I told them I couldn't do Mr Big by Free, because it fucked my fingers holding the chord shapes leading up to the Bass solo, meaning I couldn't do it justice. It's been a while since I helped them out, so they forgot, and announced the song I previously dreaded. I still shit a brick, because while I was playing along with the verses, I was frantically trying to remember the Solo that I hadn't played for over a frigging year! I managed though, and the only bit that caused me any problem was right near the end, when I had to stretch a string to reach the top note, just like Andy Fraser had to do in the original. This was due to me giving the Jazz Bass it's first airing at a gig, and it has one fret less than the Precision I had previously used, so I had to work a bit harder than normal. Apart from this one small draw-back, I was over the fucking moon with it's performance, and so were the lads. It fucking growled like a bastard, and had a presence about it that really cut through the Band, coupled with the fact that it's astonishingly easy to play, and I can't wait to use it again. There were actually enough people in to shout for an encore by the time the end of the gig rolled round, so we all obliged with another song to leave them happy, then it was time to load the van again. Sack barrow to the fore once more, and I was soon home and necking coffee with my feet up in front of the telly. Two very different, but still very enjoyable gigs. 

3rd August.   I got a text, asking if I was doing anything on Saturday, and it just so happens I'm not busy, so I'll be depping on Bass for Witchkraft at The Fir Tree in Wingate. I'll probably still be fucked after the Black Rose Gig at The Three Tuns on Friday, but it shouldn't make much difference, as the Fir Tree has an easy load-in and tons of seats round the stage area for me to collapse on in between sets! 

1st August.  I'm back! To use a quote from one of the Irish lads working on the Festival-"Jaysus, I'm fooked!" We knew it had the potential to be a pretty tiring weekend, but we had no fucking idea just how tiring it would actually turn out to be. To start at the beginning, my fucking knee decided to flare up on Wednesday night, so I had bugger all sleep. Fine, I thought, we're fucking off early on Friday morning, so I'll just fall asleep during the day on Thursday, and be in fine fettle for the early start on the Friday. Just how wrong can a bloke be!?!? I was fighting like fuck to stay awake on the Thursday morning, but I stayed up, in order to go to bed in the afternoon, which would leave me refreshed for the next day's early start. Naturally, the second I started to walk upstairs to go to bed, my fucking knee 'clicked' again, and the bastard pain kept me awake for the rest of the day. Ben picked me up just after 4am, and we headed off to meet the others and get the gear in the cars before setting off. We 'hit the road' at 4.45am on the dot, and the scenery was just a blur until we got to Stranraer. We were shit-scared of missing the check-in times for the ferry, as that would have fucked the timing of the whole 'Tour' but in our rush to get there, we actually turned up too early! Never mind, it gave the Customs blokes a chance to examine the contents of both vehicles, stick their 'mirrors on a stick' underneath the cars, and have a 'bit craic' with us while we were having a smoke. The good thing was, we were pretty close to the front of the queues, so we were loaded on the ferry quite near the front, which augured well for a fast departure at the other end. The came the most boring part of the whole trip. The ferry takes three hours to get from Stranraer to Belfast, but forty minutes of that is spent chugging at a snail's pace to the exit of Loch Ryan, and another half-hour at least in slowing down to enter Belfast harbour. The actual time crossing the Irish Sea seemed to be rather short, but we were on one of the Observation areas on the top deck, watching the water, smoking almost as badly as the ship's funnel, and trying to stay awake. We got off the ship and on to the Motorway in about five minutes, then once again  it was 'heed doon, arse up' for an hour or so until we reached Port Stewart. We were met by Steve, the lad who had booked us, and he directed us down a ramp that led past the beach and directly to the rear of the Stage Area, which meant only having to carry the gear about ten feet. Which was nice.......After setting up, we wandered along the Main Drag to find our accommodation for the night, which Steve had told us was called "Rex". We wandered backwards and forwards for fucking ages before we finally gave up and rang Steve, who said "No. It's not Rex, it's Rex." EH???  After a bit of kerfuffle we got him to spell it out, and found that we were looking for "Rick's" but his accent had confused us no end. We booked in, and the lads went for a wander round the place, but I stayed precisely where I was, jumped on a bed, and fucking DIED for over an hour, until I was woken up by a 'phone call, saying we were being given something to eat before we started. This turned out to be a frigging MASSIVE plate of Spaghetti Bolognese that none of us managed to finish, along with free drinks which set us up nicely for the rest of the night. A quick and painless sound check with a couple of the nicest blokes to ever man a PA, and we were on! The Amphitheatre in front of us was already pretty full when we started, but more people seemed to materialise as the Set went on, till the place was fucking packed with people out for a good night. We seemed to give them what they wanted, and after two and a half hours, the last notes of the last encore rang off into the night, at precisely the time that the Sun decided to slip below the horizon while the applause was still deafening us. The Crew swung into action, and in a few minutes, our gear was packed away and stowed in the Town Hall overnight, so we were able to leave the cars where they were, and set off in search of more drink. I was fucked, because the nearest boozer didn't sell any Beer! There was a choice of Guinness, Lager or Cider, and I hate all of them, but the other lads were happy with Lager, so I just fucked off back to the digs and got my head down again. I woke up when they got back (for about ten seconds) then snored my way peacefully through the night and woke feeling much better for it. After a wander round to get some breakfast, we loaded the cars again, said our farewells to all the Staff, and were told we would be back next year, as there had NEVER been a standing ovation for ANY Band in the history of the Festival until we came along. With the plaudits ringing in our ears, we started the journey back to Belfast, and it was even quicker than the day before. Free crisps and badges for us all from an Irish Company, and then we were onboard again. We ran with the Tide this time, so the journey across was quicker, and after a run through the Scottish countryside, we got to The Venue in Dumfries a full fifteen minutes before the Staff turned up. After the agony of humping the gear up three LONG flights of stairs, and finding it was another boozer that didn't fucking stock any Beer, we collapsed into the dressing room until the PA bloke was ready, then a sound check, followed by a Set from Monstro, a local Band who had been drafted in as support, then it was our turn. Another two and a half hours straight through, and the place was fucking bouncing by the time we had finished. Then came the one low point of the weekend. My Hartke cab had clip out castors, which allowed me to stack it, but some lousy cunt took a fancy to them and they had disappeared by the time I came to pack the gear away. Never mind, we packed the cars again, had a smoke, said good night to everybody that knew us and wanted to have a chat, then off into the night again. I finally got dropped off at my house just after 4am, which meant we had done 48 hours on the trot, with about six hours sleep all told. (Well-seven and a half for me, but I'm the old bastard in the Band) I managed a cup of coffee and some Pizza that Wor Lass had left in the microwave for me, before falling into bed exhausted, and sleeping like death again. Can I do it all again next year, with the prospect of even more Gigs on the table? I seriously fucking doubt it.

25th July.  It sometimes amazes me, the difference a week and five miles makes, along with the slightly insular way our bit of the World works. One week from The Office gig, and we were booked at The Copt Hill in Houghton-Le-Spring, and it was an entirely different experience. Don't get me wrong, the Staff and Management were fucking brilliant, and bent over backwards to make us feel welcome, it's just that little doubts began to creep in pretty early after arriving. The Pub itself is situated at the top of a hill, on a not-very-major-road between Seaham and Houghton, out of the way a bit, and one of the first things the Manager said in conversation was "the bastards have just taken the Bus off that used to go past here, so everyone has to drive, or get a Taxi"  which didn't really augur well for a decent-sized audience. To give you some idea of it's accessibility, Craig used a Sat-Nav to get from his house to the Gig, and he ended up stopping a Taxi to ask where the fuck it was, then following the lad to the Pub, because the official Post-Code actually sends you to a village a mile away! Then we were asked "what kind of 'stuff' do you 'do'?" and it took me all my time not to reply "the same fucking 'stuff' we've been 'doing' since 1997!" It felt rather strange to have this question repeated on several more occasions in the run-up to the gig, as we were only a couple of miles from Houghton Comrades, where we had played fairly recently, and the audience that filled the place on that night had come along solely to see us, knowing exactly what they were going to get. It turned a little surreal later on, as a few of our regular mates and Gig attendees turned up, and were "looked at" as though they were going to be told to "'Beware the moon, and stick to the road" by the incumbents. :-) Smoke machines are banned in that particular boozer, so the lights we had taken along lost a little of their impact, considering it was still light outside when we started, and the blinds on the windows were only just opaque, so that the stage area was pretty bright, even though the blinds were drawn. Nevertheless, we played the usual couple of sets, enjoying ourselves as we always do, ably egged on by the attendance of the other members of The Alcatraz House Band/The Karma Heart, who Mark used to work with, and they'd come out especially to see on only his second gig with us. He did his usual sterling work on the kit, and the good-natured 'boo's!' from his old Band every time his name was mentioned, seemed to amuse everybody in there. At one point, Ben mentioned the fact that we all had nicknames, Benny Boy, Hoook and Big Al, but we didn't have one for young Mark yet. "CUNT!" was the explosive suggestion from his old ?mates? but I don't think we can use that on stage. In private, maybe.........The audience eventually seemed to 'thaw out' and began to enjoy themselves, singing along with most of the songs that everyone seems to know. We even ended up doing several encores, because they had really started to get into the swing of things by the end of the night, so we ended up sweating like pigs but happy. The load-out was worse afterwards, because we were supplying the PA for the Gig, and I'm SO glad that Glen was there, because even with his and Craig's assistance, I was completely fucked by the time I drove home. Well, that's it for now, because we have time for one more quick rehearsal to put a final polish on some new stuff that's gone in the Set, then we're off to Ireland and Scotland. I'll update this when we get back, if we haven't been blown up or shot in the meantime. ;-)

17th July.  I said I'd be back as soon as possible with the Gig report from The Office, and here I am! To make sure everything went as smoothly as possible, we all got there earlier than usual, to find Smoulty already setting the PA up for the night. It took very little time to get the gear onstage, and we were able to fuck around to our heart's content, getting our own sounds right before they went through the PA. You could tell that Hoook and Ben had been missing playing on a big stage, having to keep a tight rein on excessive volumes in the confines of the rehearsal studio, because the fuckers really let rip while they were warming up. I usually wear ear-plugs when  we start playing, but it's the first time I've ever had to put them in while they were just tuning up and stretching the strings! It was fairly providential that I did, though, because Smoulty likes to 'ring out' the PA at each venue, to find the feedback points, and cancel them out on a graphic equaliser. This entails large amounts of screeching, screaming, ear-piercing feedback for a couple of minutes, which, if you're onstage at the time, nearly takes the top of your fucking head off. Cue the lads running in all directions with fingers in ears, trying to get away from the painful noise, while I was able to stand there unaffected, thanks to me already wearing lug-plugs. With the necessary nastiness out of the way, we were able to concentrate  on getting a balanced back-line sound, so as not to overpower the drums, because we wanted to make life as easy as possible for Mark, with it being his first gig with the Band. The rest of it was just a normal sound check, then we sat back to wait. With getting there early, it seemed to be fucking AGES before the audience started turning up, and even Craig and Steve, who were helping out on the door, said it seemed like a hell of a long time from us finishing  until they were needed. We all ended up stood outside, having a bit crack with people as they turned up, and re-directing the strays who drifted in looking for the Charity gig round the corner, as it was being held upstairs in the same venue, but using a different entrance. Eventually, the start time rolled round, and we took to the stage to find the room fucking packed with people, most of whom had seemed to come in while we were in the dressing room, and away we went. Mark was as good as we had expected from his performances at the auditions and rehearsals, and it honestly felt like he had been in the Band for ever. We all just seemed to 'click' on stage, and the audience showed their appreciation rather volubly, which made the experience even better. All to soon, the first set was over with, so we all nipped outside for a cool down and a quick tab, chatting to other members of the audience who had the same idea, but on re-entering the Pub, were hit with a wave of heat! It was like a fucking sauna in there, and we hadn't noticed it while we were playing, because we were sweating our frigging balls off anyway. There was no way for the Staff to cool the place down either, because The Office is in a residential area, so the doors have to remain firmly shut when there's a Band on, which meant the temperature kept steadily rising for the rest of the second set. It got so bad on stage that I had to use a plectrum for the last three songs, as the sweat was sticking my fingers to the strings, causing me to make even more mistakes than I normally do. :-P  There was no way the crowd were going to let us go after we had finished, without doing any encores, so we duly obliged, and they (hopefully) all went home happy. Then the nasty bit had to be tackled, as we packed the gear away, and started loading it into the vehicles, despite being completely drained of all fucking energy after jumping round like sodding idiots all night. Smoulty had the right idea-he arranged to pick the PA up the next day, and fucked off home! By the time I had said goodnight to everyone, and driven home, I had just about enough energy left to climb into a warm shower, which was lush, because it seemed like every square inch of me was covered in claggy sweat. When I got back out, feeling much better, Wor Lass told me to get my feet up and relax, stuck a cuppa and my supper in my hands, then asked how the night had gone. After I had gone through everything that had happened and had a laugh at some of the faces I had pulled on the photos Craig had taken, we buggered off to bed, me knackered from the gig, and her from staying up so late, waiting for me to get home. Christ! I'm really looking forward to next week's gig now..........For those of you who haven't seen him before, here's a photo of Mark, our new Drummer. Oh aye, and the 'Doormen'. Steve and Craig.

15th July.  I have to apologise for my extended absence, and not bringing this fucker up to date, but life seemed to get in the way over the last few weeks. I only seem to have had a few minutes at a time to sit at the computer, so it's taken a bit of a back seat. No gigantic problems or anything, it's just that other stuff has been going on that seemed more important than bringing you all up to date with the usual dross that is my normal existence. Anyway, back to the updates, and we've been working our knackers off with Black Rose over the past couple of months, rehearsing like fuck, and it's finally looking like we might just have everything sorted now. I bloody hope so, because our 'come-back gig' with our new drummer, Mark, is tomorrow night! There's a strange mixture of jubilation and trepidation in the air, as there always seems to be whenever a Band recruits a new member. Jubilation that all the hard work seems to have paid off, and we think we sound good, combined with the trepidation that it's really our first gig as a complete unit, not just the new lad's, and not actually definitely knowing that a paying audience will like the new sound we seem to have. Well, time alone will tell.....On the PA front, we did Requiem's first gig in a year last week, which turned out to be a successful night for the Band. They've transmuted from a Trio to a Quartet, incorporating more vocal harmonies, twin guitars, and having a more laid-back sound than the last incarnation. On a COMPLETELY PERSONAL level, I was a bit bored. That's not to say they won't do well as a Band, because the type of songs they are doing will go down very well with most of the audiences round here, as everyone seems to love the skills of a couple of talented Lead Guitarists on top form, which these lads are, no argument. My only criticism might be the fact that they did an instrumental track each, where the Guitarists showed off their respective skills, which started the exodus to the Bar and the toilet, with people coming back into the room when the vocals began again. Like I say, my personal views only, and I have no qualms about sound-mixing for them again, as they are great lads to work with. It's just a shame that they've got the loudest drummer in the North-East, who insists on beating the shit out of his drums while you're fitting the mic's to his kit. Even Craig had to put earplugs in to stop the pain in his eardrums, and he's fucking deaf! On to the Venue, the much-vaunted Blyth and Tyne, in Blyth itself. I was a bit surprised at how small it actually was, because I had only seen the interior of the place on photographs of Bands that had played there. The stage looked massive, so you would expect the room to match it in size, but that isn't the case. Yes. the stage is a damn good size, but it takes up about a quarter of the floor area, so I can imagine it being a bit of a squeeze for an audience if it ever gets near it's capacity crowd. What really brought it home to me was when Ken (Blitzkreig's Guitarist) was talking to me at the beginning of the night. He's booking the Bands and running the Entertainment side of the business for the new Management, and he really knows what he's doing. He told me that most of the Bands that appear there haven't even bothered to mic the drumkit up, as the sound travels perfectly round the room on their own. He was proved to be right, as expected, because we ended up sticking a couple of mic's on the two Bass Drums, just to give them a bit of 'punch' below the two guitars, with a couple of overhead mics to bring out the nuances of the cymbals, and that was it. The mixing was surprisingly easy to do, as the only slight problem was a tend for the bottom end to be a bit 'boomy' because of a hollow wooden stage constructed on a hard floor, but a bit of simple EQ'ing soon cancelled that out, and the rest of the night was fairly relaxed. Right, I'm going to shut the fuck up now, and get back to practising on the Bass, to keep my hands nice and relaxed for the Gig tomorrow night. I'll be back as soon as possible with a report about it, so you can read everything that happened, if you can't make the Gig in the first place. Take care, and I'll catch you later..

25th May.  Anyone who knows us through the Bands or PA Hire will probably know about the on-going saga with Craig's shoulder, which has given him quite a few problems over the last few years. He was in the midst of all the Medical investigations when they found the problem with his Cervical Spine last year, so his shoulder was put 'on hold' as it wasn't life-threatening like his neck. Well, now that his neck is well on it's way to being healed, he was recalled to the Orthopaedic/Neurological Department at our local Hospital, to begin the long grind of Consultant appointments, X-rays, CT Scans and the like, before they did anything. Now we get to the good bit. The Head Bomber is a bloke called Mr Hugh, and he doesn't fit the generally accepted profile of a Consultant Surgeon. He's originally from Jamaica, and from his general demeanour, you seriously expect him to be sporting Dreadlocks, and sitting behind the desk with a spliff in his gob! We liked him immediately when we first met him a couple of years ago, and it turned out that he was a devotee of exactly the same style of Karate as Craig, so they spent most of the first appointment chatting about their respective Grading Examinations. I have experience of his skills first-hand, (no pun intended) from a couple of years ago, when he rebuilt the tendons and nerves in my left hand after a pretty bad accident, which allowed me to carry on playing the Bass. He's THAT good! Anyway, back to last week, and the only time I could get into the Vets with Wor Lass's cat was at the same time as Craig's appointment, so she ended up going with Craig to do the Signing while I was otherwise engaged. She thinks the bloke is the Bee's Knees as well, especially when he said not to bother with all the other tests, as he was well acquainted with Craig's problem by now. The upshot from the visit is that Craig is going to be contacted as soon as there is a Day Patient slot available, to stick a camera into his shoulder to find out exactly what the problem is. What they find will determine whether it's fixable there and then, or if he has to go back in for a 'proper' operation. We had our telephone number double-checked, so that they can ring us anytime they want, in case of any last-minute cancellations, so hopefully, Craig won't have to wait TOO long to get seen to. We are practically back up to speed with the PA Hire again, so it might have been a bit of a struggle if Craig had been incapacitated, but we now have the additional assistance of Glen, my Daughter's bloke/partner/Fiance, who was invaluable during Craig's convalescence after his Neck Op. He must have enjoyed himself last time, because when I asked if he fancied becoming part of the Team, he seemed more than happy to accept. Glen and I can manage all the heavy stuff like carrying the gear in, while Craig does his usual blue-arsed-fly routine, wiring everything up in less than a minute, then sitting back to operate his Lighting Rig while we get on with the Sound Checking. Oh, aye - I'm typing this with two hands again, because my Rotator Cuff seems to be sorting itself out a bit quicker than expected. I managed to nip out on the Bike yesterday, to try riding as much as actually going somewhere, and I had no problems handling it. Onwards and Upwards, ya fucker!

15th May.  With having all this time off from Black Rose, and no Dep jobs on the horizon, I've really been able to get my sleeves rolled up and get stuck into the house and garden. I seem to reach my physical limits earlier these days with being an old(er) bastard, so I have to be careful when I'm on the road with the Band. It wouldn't do to fuck up a finger or anything else vital when there's a Gig coming up, so I do all the heavy work when I've got time off. I had been procrastinating like fuck about lifting some old paving stones from the side of the house and planting a hedge for privacy, but this seemed as good a time as any to finally get the bloody job out of the way. The paving stones lifted fairly easily, and I stacked them to one side while I got on with the planting, and when Wor Lass brought me one of my many cups of coffee, she said it looked rather pretty, which made the effort worthwhile in the first place. While I was on a roll, I had already cleared the space at the far side of the Garden Pond for a path of some description, and when I looked at what I had just lifted, I thought "Crazy Paving." Now we come to the fun bit - I had to carry them one at a time because it was muddy as fuck from one of the rare bits of rain we had recently, drop them to break them, then make a jigsaw with the bits. Everything was going swimmingly until Wor Lass came out with another cup of coffee for me, just as I was about to drop a fucking big bit onto the anvil to smash it. My daft dog ran out of the house past her and raced to get to me as she usually does, but at precisely the wrong time. I was just letting go of the paving stone when she materialised under my hands, seemingly out of nowhere. Don't worry - she isn't hurt! I don't know where I got the speed or the strength from, but I managed to re-grab one corner of the paving stone with my left hand and deflect it away from her, as the daft little sod just stood and watched while the paving stone missed her by inches. Throwing the bloody thing to one side made my shoulder give a funny little 'crunch' but there was coffee on the go, so I gave it very little thought - for about ten fucking seconds! As I reached for the brew, it felt like some twat had stuck a red-hot knife right through my shoulder, and I couldn't even hold a cup in my left hand. That was me fucked for the rest of the day, and by tea time it was getting even worse, so I nipped down to my Doctors to wait to see somebody. I was advised to go to the A&E Department at the Local Hospital, because the young Doc had apparently never seen a similar case in her short career. After x-rays, examinations, and much scratching of heads, an old Doctor was called, and he came in and said "Oh, you've torn your rotator cuff, sunshine." He explained to the assembled Staff that it was a common injury when he was younger, but with the onset of severe Health and Safety regulations, there were very few of them these days, which was why nobody in the room had a clue what was wrong. They'd never come across one in the past, so it was a new set of symptoms to all of them. Unfortunately, the only treatment is rest, a sling, and painkillers, so they prescribed them, and told me to sod off home. That was me fucked for doing any more jobs for a few weeks, because it apparently takes that long for it to 'knit together' again, so all the outstanding jobs will have to wait...again...thanks to my daft dog. It made for an interesting evening when I went to rehearse with Black Rose as well, practically driving with one hand, then when I arrived, I couldn't stand the pain of the strap on my shoulder, so I ended up sitting down for most of the night, supporting the Bass on my knee while playing. It didn't really matter though, because it's not me that's the focus of attention. The Set is coming along in leaps and bounds, with Mark fitting in perfectly, and actually bringing a different kind of 'feel' to the Band, which was exactly what we wanted. Nobody wants to hear a clone of the old drummer, so the fact that he's starting to put his own signature into the songs is fucking lush. From a personal point of view, I can't wait to get back on the road, because if I'm enjoying myself this much at rehearsal, I can only imagine what it's going to be like playing in front of an audience..................Back in the real world, my Daughter had to go to a clandestine meeting at Work, to discuss what was happening while she was on Maternity Leave, as there had been a lot of re-shuffling along with the redundancies, so the Bosses wanted her up to date with her new responsibilities after her promotion. That of course meant that we were asked to babysit, which fucking killed me, not being able to carry on with the bairn, or take turns changing his nappies, or feeding him, because of the chance of dropping him while struggling with one arm. Never mind, his Nana managed without any help from me, and I was still able to stand over his cot making funny noises and faces to keep him amused while his bottles were being prepared. As usual, he was as good as gold, and we reluctantly had to give him back to his parents when they were finished at work. Bugger!  Right, that's it for now, because I've been typing this with one hand, so I'm getting a bit sick. Catch you later.

3rd May.  I haven't been able to fill anything in on here for a while, because, truth to tell, there's not that much of interest happening on the Band front. Rehearsals are going swimmingly, and we've started to sound like a Band again, instead of a bunch of Musicians with a dep Drummer along for the ride. (Ride-Cymbal-Drummer-get it?!?!? All right, I'll get my fucking coat!) On the Home front, my daughter finally got the go-ahead to start driving again after her scar healed perfectly, so she and Wor Lass decided to have a day out shopping for the first time in months, and Grandpa here got to look after his new Grandson for most of the day. Bless him, he was fucking brilliant. I don't think I've ever met a more smiley bairn at such a young age, and he lay in his Moses Basket for most of the day, alternately sleeping, gurgling and just making happy noises. The only time he made an unpleasant  sound was when feeding time was getting close, and he had a miniscule whinge while we were waiting for the kettle to boil. As soon as he had been fed, he went back to sleep for another couple of hours, and had just woken up smiling and gurgling, when the lasses got back from their day out. The best bit of the day, which made me love him more, was the fact that he saved up a massive shite for his Mam coming home, as I'd only had to change a couple of wet nappies all day. What a brilliant bairn! I was able to appreciate the day a hell of a lot more, because I've recently been feeling like Death warmed up, not giving a shit about anything in particular, and needing more sleep than usual. Add to that the fact that I had been losing my appetite, eating fuck all but still gaining weight, and I finally got fed up enough to listen to Wor Lass and get my arse to the Doctors. After a couple of weeks of pissing around with various tests, it turns out that I had suddenly developed an under-active Thyroid gland, which was the cause of all my symptoms, and I was prescribed some new Medication to take care of it. I have to keep going back for blood tests and the like, to regulate the intake of the new drugs and make sure they're doing their job, but at the moment I feel pretty good. The Doctor reckoned I should begin to feel the benefits after a couple of weeks or so if they'd got the level right, and he was proved correct almost to the day. I'm eating like a pig again, but still losing weight by being as active as I can manage, and Wor Lass is chuffed at the fact that I'm doing all the little jobs round the house that had been put on the back-burner while I've been feeling shite. With the weather being lush over the extended Bank Holidays, I've managed to get out on the Bike a hell of a lot more, using every little excuse available to do so. It made a nice change not to have to think about it beforehand, then get all my wet-weather gear on, then take the cover off, then warm it up and only then get out. I've been able to just jump on it and head for the horizon whenever the mood took me. I've been using it for all the visits to the Doctors, along with daft journeys to Asda, B&Q and the like, but there have even been nights when the telly has been boring, so I've just gone for a run along the Coast, or headed out into the Countryside to get the inevitable flies in my teeth with smiling so much. A couple of times, Wor Lass has taken 'phone calls from mates while I've been in absentia, and fielded enquiries to my whereabouts with the phrase "He's riding there and back, to see how far it is" which they found amusing, but she was being as accurate as it is possible to be, because she knows that when I get out on the Bike, time loses all meaning. That's my lot for now, so I'm just going to sit in the Conservatory in the sunshine with a Bass, Practise Amp, cup of coffee and some smokes and have a run-through of some of the songs we'll be rehearsing tomorrow night. Hope to catch you sooner than later.

11th April.  We had a damn good, productive rehearsal with the new lad last night, and during out coffee break, we got a text from a Landlord, asking if we were available to play in May. It was a bit of a shame, having to turn a Gig down, but we've got everything arranged for our 'return' in July, and all the rehearsals are geared towards that. We couldn't even get a Dep in, or ask Geordie to come back for one night, because a lot of the songs are different now, with new arrangements and structures, so it would be difficult for anybody to just jump in. Just in case anybody is 'reading between the lines'-don't fucking bother. There's nowt wrong with the new lad, and he's learning the songs at a cracking pace, it's just that he is naturally going to be compared to the last drummer, so we want to give him the opportunity to stamp his personality and style on the songs. We've left plenty of time for him to settle in, find out the way we work, and become one of the lads, not just an outsider who happens to play the drums. We did exactly the same thing when Black Rose first reformed, and we've found it the best way to go on, because people aren't going to settle for a sloppy buskers Band when they come to see us. They want it to look and sound RIGHT. By the time we start gigging again, the songs will be second nature to us all, so we can put more into the Show without having to worry too much about daft mistakes. Anyway, people have been bugging the fucking shit out of me, trying to find out who the new drummer is, so here's a photo of the new line-up:-

One last bit of news. Just in case anyone hasn't heard, the show at the O2 has been put on the back-burner for the immediate future. We may be playing later in the year, but we'll have to wait and see.

3rd April. Well, that's another close to the chapter in the Black Rose book. Friday gone was the last Gig with Geordie on the skins, and we I like to think we sent him off in style, with a couple of happy memories on the way. We were playing Houghton Comrades for the first time, and can I say what a fucking excellent place it's turned out. The first thing you think is "Shit, it's upstairs" but there's a brilliant solution to that. They've nestled it into a cut-out in the hillside, so as you drive round behind it, you go drastically uphill, and end up on the same level as the upstairs. With the installation of a metal walkway, that resembles a flat fire escape, you can wheel your gear straight into the Concert Room by the side of the stage, thus saving a load of energy, which you can put into the show, The place was fucking packed with a lot of friends of the Band, but a hell of a lot of strangers as well, who'd come along to see us for the first time, and I don't think we disappointed them. Smoulty could probably done the sound at the City Hall with the amount of PA gear he had humped in there, but it turned out not to be too loud (for the audience) as he just wanted loads of 'headroom' for the Band, to give a clear sound without over-driving the speakers. The volume on stage was quite a different matter, for me. Ben always likes to have his Vocals loud through the monitors, to make sure he's giving his best, and his Guitar as well, because he's fairly stuck at the front of the stage, so he needs a decent reference point amid the background noise of the rest of the Band. Unfortunately, due to the stage layout, I ended up stood directly in line with the feedback from both the monitors and his guitar amp. Despite wearing earplugs all night, by the last couple of songs I was sticking my fingers in the right positions on the fretboard, but I couldn't hear a frigging single note I was playing! That put a bit of a dampener on proceedings for me, because I hardly ever look at my fingers, knowing exactly where I am by listening to my speakers, but by the end of the night I was having to concentrate on making sure I was fretting the notes properly. Never mind, we all had a fucking good gig apart from that little niggle, and I'll know how to arrange the sodding gear next time we play there, so it doesn't happen again. Ben made a daft little speech at the close of proceedings, and presented Geordie with a couple of memento's from the time he's been in the Band. They were close to his heart, as his personal favourite's in life are Fish Fingers and Choccy Digestives, so that's what he was given! With Geordie's last Gig out of the way, we start intensive rehearsals in earnest on Monday night with the new lad, because the Gigs start again in July, with trips to Ireland and Scotland in the offing, so we have to be up to speed by then. Talk about getting hoyed 'In at the Deep End!'

29th March. Can I just say "Thank fuck for that" after finally getting a Drummer for Black Rose. We finally found the one that 'clicked' into place, but it took quite a few auditions to do it. It got a lot more difficult towards the end, as the numbers were whittled down a bit, and in fact there were about four that we could have reasonably picked, knowing that they wouldn't take that long to settle in. Then came the second audition with the lad in question, and this time, there were very few nerves in evidence. The moment he sat behind the Kit and started the Intro for 'Jailbreak' we all started smiling at each other. The smiles remained stuck in place for the rest of the night, and the minute we finished, we all looked at each other, nodded enthusiastically, and offered him the job. What made it even better was when he balled his hands into fists, rammed his elbows backwards very quickly, and said "YES!" so it seemed a popular decision all round! We won't be announcing his name for a short while yet, because he wants to let the lads in his existing Band know what's happening before we go public, feeling that they deserve to hear it from him, not read it on a public Forum. There's nothing underhand going on in the background, so don't go thinking that we've nicked someone else's Drummer. He's going to divide his time between the two Bands, as we are still only going to play about one gig a month, so he can keep working with the other lads in his main Band as well. Rehearsals start in earnest next Monday, and we might have a few little surprises up our sleeves, because we always try not to let the Act get stale, constantly introducing newer songs or re-arranging some of the old favourites, more so when a new Member arrives. In the meantime, we've got Geordie's last gig with the Band to look forward to, (not that we're looking forward to him leaving-oh bollocks, you know what I fucking mean!), and it's taking place at The Comrades Rock Night in Houghton-le-Spring this coming Friday. With it being on April 1st, some people were genuinely convinced that it was a wind-up, and we were playing an April Fool's Joke by saying that he was leaving. It made it a little more poignant when we had to emphasise that it actually wasn't a joke, and he was joining The Force full-time. He had wanted to stay with us as well, but he's getting on a bit now, poor bugger, and the sheer physical involvement meant that he was more or less forced to choose between us. He's always loved playing live, so it was a bit of a fait accompli, knowing that The Force were doing a hell of a lot more gigs than we would ever contemplate, so the decision to leave was made for him really. Never mind, to use one of Geordie's favourite sayings "Onwards and Upwards." That's about it for now, so back to the workbench, because my old Precision developed a bit of a 'buzzing whistle' at the Paddy's Day Gig, so I've been fannying around replacing pots, adding grounding tape, checking circuitry and resistances, and generally tidying up some of the old soldering, in the hope I can shut the fucker up before the next time I use it in anger.

19th March. We were booked to play LYH in Newcastle for St. Patrick's Day, and we duly turned up early to give the lads a hand in with the PA, because it was an upstairs Gig, only to find them set up and waiting for us to arrive. The place was a bit of a wooden box, so the sound check took a little longer than usual, trying to get rid of all the sound reflections, but we got there. The Staff had cleared all of the furniture out of the room, which allowed the audience to stand around, dance, or even mosh to their hearts content, and over the course of the night they did the lot. The best surprise was when we went to get the drinks in, to be told that they were free for the Band and Crew, so that put a nice feeling on the night as well. Shame that most of us were bloody driving, so that only Craig was able to get a bit merry, but he was only pushing the lighting buttons, and that didn't need that much in the way of co-ordination. I personally went through a Pint of John Smiths and four pints of Coke with it being that hot in there, thanks mainly to the place being packed from start to finish, and jumping around like a fucking idiot on stage didn't help much. I'd forgotten to put my big fan in the van before I left home, so I was stuck with standing outside to cool down a bit, while sneaking a quick tab in between sets, chatting to members of the audience who had the same idea. As usual, the night ended too quickly for me, but I had something to look forward to when I got home. St Patrick's Day just happened to be our 27th Wedding Anniversary, so I had done something nice for Wor Lass, by fucking off out playing, and leaving her alone all night. She didn't hold it against me though, having a lush meal prepared for me when I got home, and all joking aside, I took her out on the Friday instead. I'm usually a thoughtless twat, but I must be doing something right, for her to still be sticking around after all these years. Either that, or she's got me well insured without telling me, and she's just playing the fucking waiting game!

7th March.  How do I put this politely? Well, let's just say that most of the Drummers we tried out last week were not quite what we expected. It seems like all the good Drummers are in Bands already, and the lads that turned up on Saturday morning were all of the same ilk. Canny lads, all of them, without an ego amongst them, and if we were just starting out as a new Band, we would have welcomed any one of them on board. It would have given them time to develop as Percussionists as the Band gathered momentum, and their skill levels could have been polished up along the way. Unfortunately, that doesn't apply to us. We need a competent Drummer NOW, who actually knows the difference between a shuffle and a straight Rock Beat, and can implement them accordingly. We simply haven't got the time to let anyone join the Band who can't hit the ground running, so to speak, as people have come to expect something a bit 'special' from the members of Black Rose. It's a bit of a bind in a way, because we simply don't have the time to let someone settle in slowly, with shows at the O2 Academy and a trip to Ireland coming up. Believe me when I say I'm not being egotistical in any way, but each separate member of the present line-up has brought a certain "something" to the table. In my case, I have no illusions about my own ability, and know I'm not the world's greatest Bass Player, but when I play, it just seems to fit in with the rest of the Band. Add a couple of pretty special Guitarists, and the whole thing just works. That's what we have been looking for in a Drummer I suppose. Someone who just clicks into place, as well as bringing a certain je ne sais quoi with them, that would take the Band to a different level, as all new Members seem to have done. Anyway, the search continues next week, and I hope to have better news then.

1st March.  After all the shit of the last few days, I was rather happy when they let my Daughter and Grandson out of Hospital. They're back in the comfort of their own home now, and the new Dad is fussing round them both like a bloody Worker Bee, making cuppa's, bottles, meals, and just generally making himself indispensable. Naturally, she's in a bit of pain from the C-Section, but she says it's bearable, made even more so by the fact that their Baby is safe, well, eating properly and shitting for England. I took Wor Lass up for a (supposedly) quick visit,  but she was delighted when it turned out to be feeding time, and she was handed a bairn and a bottle. After an hour or so, we got the baseball bats and Bike Chains out, and beat her mercilessly until she was finally persuaded to hand him back! With that out of the way, thoughts turned back to Black Rose, and we had the first rehearsal with the Dep Drummer last night. He's standing in to make sure that we can fulfil the commitment to play the O2 Academy at the end of April, because we can't really foretell how long the Auditions are going to take to choose a new Drummer. There have been a few more interested parties than we expected, so we have had to arrange for the first 'batch' to come along on Saturday morning, in order to give them all a fair crack of the whip before starting the selection process. The way things are looking, it could be a good three weeks before we can announce who the new lad is, so keep watching this space if you're interested, and I'll let you know how things are going. The new lad will be joining at a pretty good time as well, because it's just been confirmed that we are playing at a Music Festival in the Summer, over in Ireland. What really surprised me, was that they had to "import" us, because the Festival Organisers informed us that there isn't one single Thin Lizzy Tribute Band left in the whole of Ireland! Talk about 'Coals to Newcastle'. That's about it for now, so I'll catch you later.

27th February.  It seems like the cuts this fucking bunch of cunts that we call a frigging Government are starting to really take hold now. The NHS seems to be getting the fucking hammer, and we were at the blunt end the other night. My Daughter was pregnant, and, after some of the scare stories that were circulating about the excessive Infant Mortality Rate at South Shields General, she and her Partner elected to go to the Queen Elizabeth in Gateshead. It was handier for them anyway, with them living in Hebburn, as it was only five minutes up the road. Then the fannying about started; they only had one ante-natal appointment throughout the whole of her pregnancy, the Midwife arranged for her to go to the recommended Breast-Feeding class two days AFTER her fucking "Due Date" and she never had the same Midwife twice, despite being told she would have the same one through the whole pregnancy, to assure "Continuity Of Care". She started having contractions the day before she was going to be induced, and on ringing the Midwife number after a few hours of them, was met by the voice of a stranger, who simply said "Oh, give us a shout when they are happening every three minutes". No fucking wonder so many kids are born in Ambulances and the back of the Family car, if those are the norm, because when they are three minutes apart, it's practically continuous pain, and the bairn usually won't be long arriving. I suppose it keeps the fucking 'conveyer belt' mentality alive and well though, and the lazy twats don't actually have to do much in the way of work if they make you wait till practically the last fucking minute. Anyway, to keep a long story a bit shorter, she started having contractions at 4'o'clock on Wednesday morning, got to the magic 'three-minute-contractions' at 4'o'clock on the Thursday morning, and then spent the next twenty-seven hours in screaming agony, while the constantly-changing Midwives kept pumping stuff into her veins, saying things like "Oh, this should help" or "No, let's try something else" with Wor Lass and her Partner constantly distressed at the agony she was being subjected to, and constantly being assured that "This was perfectly normal". One of the Staff actually said to Wor Lass "What's the problem? You went through this when you gave birth to her, didn't you?" to which she finally snapped, and said "Not in this much pain, for this long, you idiot!" We can only thank our lucky stars that one of the 'higher-ups' in the Food Chain popped in to see how things were doing, because after a quick look at the monitors and the state of my Daughter, she called the Theatre Team, and she was whipped away for an emergency C-Section. The bairn finally arrived in the world at 7'o'clock on Friday morning, after Fifty-one fucking hours of intense and very problematic labour We didn't find out until a couple of hours ago, from the same lass whose prompt action saved his life, that his  head had been engaged for quite some time, but due to the stress of not being able to be born, his heartbeat was incredibly slow, and his blood pressure had been dropping steadily for quite a while, so if they hadn't done the procedure as quickly as they had, we would have been arranging his Funeral round about now. All's well that ends well, as both Mother and Child are doing fine after their ordeal, but it sort of explains the High Mortality Rates that are beginning to show throughout the published statistics for the whole Country. I'm old enough to remember when we had a Health Service that was the envy of the World, and I've had some excellent treatment from Hospitals in the past, but this seems symptomatic of the rot that's running through the whole of Society now. You can fuck off and die, if you aren't rich enough to go Private, because they'd rather spend the money on paying some fucking glorified Pen-Pusher to fiddle the statistics to show what a wonderful service we're getting!.................................................It's a good job the Drummer Auditions for Black Rose aren't arranged until next week, because I should have calmed down by then. (or-I could be ensconsed in a Bell-Tower somewhere in London, waiting for Shiny Dave to show his fucking Tory bastard face). That was actually a joke, but I just wish some psycho bastard would do exactly that!

17th February.   As promised, here's a little update on things in general. I know it's been a while, but things have actually been running rather slowly over the last couple of weeks, due to circumstances beyond our control. The computer that handles all of Black Rose's e-mails began playing funny buggers, and it was only when one of us 'phoned Ben to find out why he hadn't answered an e-mail, that the penny dropped. The fucking thing had been consigning all incoming mail to the ether, so all of the recent correspondence had been lost forever. I think I can speak for all the Band when I say "BASTARD!!!" As far as we know, it all worked out well in the end, because I stuck an explanation up on the places we had advertised, and the e-mails began flooding in again. We've managed to get the details of a fair few potential Drummers, and have started to set the Auditions in motion, beginning in the next week or so, and with some local 'names' showing interest, we have high hopes of getting a good'un for the Band..........When we do get sorted, we certainly won't be returning to the Fox and Hounds in Crawcrook! We played there last Saturday, against our better judgement, because it's a small Pub who don't put Bands on that often, but the Boss of the place wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. All of our concerns were justified when we got there, because the 'band area' is in a corner, right next to the entrance to the bogs, and bounded by a half-wall with a fucking fancy glass screen on it, so you cant actually see anything through it apart from the odd shape. We asked if it would be possible to set up at the other end of the room, as it was open enough for everyone to see the Band properly, but were met with the rejoinder "people like to stand there"! We were seriously contemplating simply fucking off home, but there were a LOT of folk travelling from all over the Region to see us, so we bit the bullet and got on with it. We managed (just) to get the backline in the corner, with the PA guys sticking the speakers where they could get them, and after a rather protracted sound check trying to get rid of some errant sub-harmonics due to the shape of the place, away we went. It was as fucking horrible as we expected, with the sound booming round the 'stage area' due to it reflecting back from the frigging walls and glass that surrounded us, and making it quite an unpleasant experience all round. Apparently the sound out front wasn't the greatest as well, but I personally put that down to the lads on the desk. I had heard them doing the sound for Damage Control a while back, and was singularly unimpressed with their performance on that night, but all of our usual Sound and Light suppliers were already booked out, so we had to use them. By the end of the night, we were truly fucking pissed off, and friends of the Band were coming up to us, saying that from their viewpoint, most of them had only been able to see Hooook on stage, the sound was lousy, the local punters were dicks, and the bar staff could have done with a good kicking, as they were too interested in chatting to each other to take much notice of people wanting a drink. When the Boss came over at the end of the night, to ask us if we'd enjoyed it, the resounding "NO!" took their breath away a bit, and the fact that we cancelled the other gigs that were in the pipeline for the place simply reinforced the frigging sentiment. So as said earlier in this piece-never again.

1st February.  Just to bring things up to date a bit, the remaining members of the Band got together for a bit of a chat, and Black Rose will continue without Geordie at the back, as long as we can find another Drummer. He's going to honour all the Gigs that are already in the pipeline, because in the short term, he should be able to manage it physically. It was more of the long term effects of working his knackers off with three Bands that was worrying him. To be perfectly honest, it was the fact that he had so much on his plate that stopped us taking a few Gigs, because he was already booked out, so if we can get sorted with a replacement, we should be out there more often. We've advertised for a new Tub Thumper, and we've had the odd sniff here and there already, so we're starting to make plans for some Auditions in the near future. Watch this space..............

27th January.  I have to be perfectly honest here, and the e-mails I've exchanged will bear it out. I was expecting the announcement to arrive a lot earlier than this, but it's just been confirmed. Geordie is going to jack in playing drums with Black Rose. Since he joined The Force a few weeks ago, he's been working his bollocks off, as they work constantly round the area, sometimes playing three (or even more) Gigs a week. He's been getting in from Gigs at all sorts of ungodly hours, then having to get up for work again the next morning, and it's all been a bit of a shock to his system. With them working all the time, it's been practically impossible to fit our Gigs in with his timetable, and we thought we would have had to turn down a Gig at the 02 Academy at Easter, because he wasn't available that night. (Thankfully, we've managed to sort out a Dep for that one) Rehearsals have been a bit of a twat to organise as well, because he's been trying to juggle three Bands at once. The Scorpions Tribute Band he's in,  Lovedrive,  hasn't had the same problems, because Phil Thorell, the Lead Singer/Guitarist in the Band, is also a member of The Force, so they've been able to plan things a little bit better, knowing when and where they would both be available at the same time. That's it then. At the time of writing, I don't know what's going to happen with Black Rose in the future. Geordie's going to honour the Gigs we already have in the Diary, but there aren't that many of them, with him being constantly busy elsewhere, and after that, who knows? I'll keep this up to date, so anybody who gives a shit can find out what's going on, but I haven't spoken to the other lads in the Band yet, so no decisions have been made. 

19th January.  Craig has been getting steadily stronger after his Op, and he said today that he fancies getting the P.A. Hire up and running again. With that in mind, we've already got a couple of Gigs in the Diary, both with Requiem, as we've worked with them before, and they don't take the piss. (Unlike some of the cunts we've encountered in the past). They finally got the new line-up sorted and stabilised, and are starting to take bookings again. On the Black Rose front, we're back in rehearsals in preparation for the forthcoming Gig at The Three Tuns in Gateshead. This one should prove to us how popular the Band really are, because it was fucking packed to the gunwales last time, but that was when we were just doing it as a 'one-off' Gig. Loads of people from out of the area came to watch it, as it was unlikely to be repeated, because we had no idea of the strength of feeling about the Band. Unfortunately, a lot of the regulars couldn't get in on that night, so I hope they make the effort this time. I've updated the Gigs page with everything that's in the pipeline at the moment, so if you fancy nipping in for a chat, or even just to say hello, you know where I'll be. 

13th January.  I finally got my arse into gear to update this page. Sorry about the delay, but I've been pretty ill. In the last entry, I said that Richie had rather unselfishly shared his 'Man flu' germs with me. Unfortunately, with me having asthma to start with, it knocked seven shades of shit out of me, and I've been coughing my lungs up, snotting and farting, and generally wheezing like an old man. (Oh-hold on-I am) The worst of it seems to have dissipated now, although the cough seems to have dug it's heels in, and refuses to shift completely. The usual visit to the Doctor got the usual response as well - My body's getting older and generally fucked, so I've just got to wait till it sods off of it's own accord. I haven't even been able to be much help to Craig for the past couple of weeks, because as part of the process of moving in with his young lady, he's been slowly sorting through all the crap he's accumulated over the years, throwing out what he doesn't want or need any more, and taking the rest of it over to her house. Most of the stuff has gone on the local Freecycle site, because there have been quite a few bits and bobs that would be useful for young'uns setting up home for the first time, but they would just get in the way at her place, as she already has them, so duplication is unneccessary and a waste of available space. The one thing I've been able to do successfully is spend hours at a time on my Jazz Bass, and I'm actually finding it difficult to put the bugger down, because it's so nice to play. With me not getting much sleep, I've been plugging my headphones into my little practise amp when Wor Lass has gone to bed, and just generally fucking around, getting the 'feel' of the Bass. I don't know if the sound of it will fit in with Black Rose, but I'm looking forward to the next rehearsal so that I can give it a try out in a Band situation. That's about it. Back to the Lem-sips and cough medicine, and huddling in front of the fire with loads of layers of warm clothing on. Catch you later.