It's a day of rest today for me. I'm not nearly as tired as I thought I'd be and I had a look to see if I could get a ticket to The Girl With The Replaceable Head's gig tonight, but it's sold out so I'm staying in and drawing instead.
Well. the journey to Newcastle wasn't bad, and I decided to walk from central Toon to The Cumberland Arms and got completely lost in Byker. That was a good thing and a bad thing; bad thing to be lost, but that little area around the Ouseburn is completely charming. It reminded me of an adventure playground for adults; little bridges, reeds, trees, oddball shops and bars. I didn't even really mind the thousand steps up to the pub (not that many, you say? I'm not so sure!). David's drummer, Daren, was outside in the sunshine because TGWTRH were sound checking.
Later, upstairs, the promoter Michael Clunkie was setting up the merch stall. It was freezing up there (and in Newcastle in general), which was a bit of a shock. The fluffy jumper was back at the hotel waiting for Manchester. Silly me! I just always remembered the Cumby as being boiling hot. No matter, the frozen fingers gradually thawed and I think my set went down OK. Lindy liked it, anyway!
Next up was David and Daren, who blasted the wax out of a few people's ears with their complex rhythms and sometimes almost swamp-rock music. I'm fascinated by David's guitar style, which often harks right back to blues playing and knits his singing and Daren's drumming together seamlessly. Excellent fingerpicking there.
Phil Ogg, Simon Brough and a couple of their friends turned up and thankfully, Michael let them in (this gig was sold out too). I was delighted that my friend Carol Alevroyianni came along; Pauline and Rob from Penetration were there too of course, and I had a rapid catch-up with Pauline about writing songs. I hope to be interviewing her about her book at Rebellion in August.
The room was packed when TGWTRH took to the stage. They were absolutely wonderful. Most of the first part of their set was new songs from their just-released album. All of the musicianship was excellent: Lindy's drumming was tight and polished, the bass was strong and melodic, Taff's guitar playing was fab and had that Ennio Morricone atmospheric feel a lot of the time, and Sylvia was note-perfect and honey-toned, sounding like a cross between Francoise Hardy and Dusty Springfield.
Anyone going to their gig at The Waiting Room tonight, you are in for a treat! I have looked for their new album on Bandcamp but it's not there yet: I'm definitely adding that to the shopping list for when I get a proper record player (soon, I hope). They were so fresh-sounding and energised; it was completely inspiring to see them.
Lovely to see Tony Crawley and his partner again too, and quite a few other people who live in this bubble of music!
The hotel was bloody freezing when I got back. There was what I thought was a dying orchid in my room, but it turned out to be a fabric one (that was still dying). There had been an air of hysteria (crying receptionist) and the bed was covered in a variety of cushions, so many of them. It was like a cushion zoo! I piled my coat on the bed and caught enough zeds to enable a brisk walk around the Toon.
Oh, Newcastle's still a mad place! The homeless man reading a paperback with the title 'SERIAL KILLERS' on display in bright colours on its covers. And when I came out of a side entrance of the Eldon Centre and was admiring the Victorian statue heads inset into the wall, a man walked up from the street and said 'I'm a Geordie and I never even knew they were here, and I've been drunk all my life. Thank you!'.
Newcastle, I love you. You have my heart forever!
In Manchester, I hopped on the 192 bus to the Talleyrand. David and Daren were there already setting up. It's a smaller venue, and Saturday's promoter is a musician in a local band. The pub has a real community vibe, and I bumped into Ian Lowey and Suzy Prince just outside. They used to run a magazine called Nude together a few years ago, and now run a bookshop opposite the pub; Ian came to the gig later on. I was thrilled that Jamie McDermot came (who kickstarted this whole second post-wifehood music career of mine, has the fabulous band The Irrepressibles and gives the best hugs); so did Juliet (long time no see!), Paul Magrs and Jeremy Hoad (and we reminisced about the weird book event we met at with the flirty alpacas, and the miniature goats who trotted casually into the dressing room), Cazz Blase of course (thank you for the perceptive review), Derek Tyman (who put on the Beefheart musical at Bury Museum), and a young woman who said we'd met when I was busking in the street in London, and afterwards I'd sent her a postcard. It was a very friendly night. The sound guy, Tommy, was a guitarist and seemed intrigued by both mine and David's playing styles. Rather than that being a pressure, it was confidence-inspiring, and I think we both had a good playing night.
Raucous bus journey back into Manchester, mad hotel experience (bouncers on the door, boiling hot room with no windows), but that's all part of the adventure. Photos later on!
Photo by Nik Cockshott
