THE BOYS

New Cross Inn-New Cross-London   4-2-12

Oh baby, what a weekend. It really doesn't get much better than this.
 Last night we saw Honest John wow 'em at the New Cross Inn, Tonight it's the turn of 'the Boys' at the same venue. Me old boiler & me are in absolute 7th heaven. Not even the weather can dampen our spirits & believe me my dears we spent the afternoon freezing our respective hooters & cobblers off at Portobello market. That, paired with the ever annoying bladder shrinkage caused by the cold, (either that, or it's my age) led to a thoroughly unenjoyable day out.
 Then just as we were about to leave the hotel & make our way to the gig, the heavens opened & we were over inundated with the white stuff, prompting the old trout to run back to the room & change out of her killer heels & horny hosiery, into something a little more comfortable. 'Tragedy of all tragedies'.

Wet, white, yet still willing, we made it to the New Cross Inn. 
 Lovely to see familiar faces, Steve Fielding & his Mrs, Mr Metcalfe & of course Honest John at the bar.
Don't it just warm your cockles & ain't it grand when you see a venue start to fill up? & fill up it did my little swamp ducks!
 Said venue was full to bursting point! 
 After a large portion of the golden throat charmer, it was thought to be prudent to try to find a good vantage point as zero hour was closing in. 
 After much tussling, wriggling & squirming, the old trout & me found ourselves down at the front, just left of centre. What a great position, straight in front of Herr Steels keyboard & just stage right  of Matt Dangerfield. 
 My dears I make no apology  for these snaps being a little over similar, but I was not giving this position up for no man nor reason!!

Since the departure of original member Duncan Reid; (more of him very soon)! The Boys seem to have taken on a more harder, driving edge. A little Ramones-like, if you please! Though nothing can detract from those fantastic old Boys tunes. They just don't write 'em like that any more (unless of course, you're a member of The Boys) where you'll find, they still do write 'em like that! (They turn off the tap never). Indeed, a new album is in the pipeline & already partially recorded. Quality! Niiiiiiiiiiiice!

Complemented on drums by Alexander Karl Gold & Steve Fielding on bass, the Boys treated us to one hell of an old school type show. You remember the type I'm talking about; the kind of gig where you can see sweat & condensation dripping down the walls, where you can feel the dance floor physically move, hell I wouldn't have been surprised to have seen people stuck to the ceiling! 
 What a great night, what a fantastic show, made all the more special with the knowledge that these fellas only play a handful of shows per year on British soil. 
 After their  Ramones medley & a couple more of their own classics, t'was time to head for the door & hopefully the last train back to Kings Cross & what a bloody journey that was! 
 After catching the last train outa town by the skin of our teeth, we were stood on a platform waiting for the last tube to Kings Cross for nearly an hour. Finally arriving at our snowbound hotel at 1.30 am, 'twas time for a large stiff one (oh please!) at the bar.

 As this blog post is a trifle late, it gets one to thinking about the punk britannia programmes which were broadcast this summer & was there one mention of this truly great band, who were at the seat of the fire & totally instrumental in the first rumblings of the punk rock phenomena? Was there bloody hell! 
 BBC bastards!!
 As the then Mrs Tightpocket & I trudged off to our chamber, reflecting on a most wonderful weekend watching Honest John & the Boys, the dreadful thought dawned on me that the evenings entertainment was not yet quite over.
 The aforementioned lady of the manor made it quite clear that I did indeed have a chore to fulfil. Spurning her amorous advances; "get thee hence woman, for I am not that kind of a fellow"  quoth I!  (Quick with the repertoire)  "But sire" retorted she "thine ample virility is more than evident & veritably straining forth from thy roughshod breeches. Now get thee hither sir & come tarry a while in my enchanted glade"  Oh bugger!! it's a dirty job but someone's got to do it!

Chin chin!!

URBAN VOODOO MACHINE

YORK-THE DUCHESS. 2-6-2012

Oh boy, what a weekend. Last night, the Jim Jones Revue in Hebden Bridge, tonight the Urban Voodoo Machine & the Rocketeers in York. Hey it's a dirty job, but someone's gotta do it!

The Urban Voodoo Machine ooze onto the stage in a wash of black & red. With their backs to the audience they begin to sway their bodies  in time to the intro track, which sounds not too dissimilar to the theme from the 'Godfather'. 
 With lady Ane Angel (looking every inch the saloon bar dancer) crashing the show to a start with her gong;  they were off, in a blaze of wild jazz infused punk rock blues, played through 'ol Toms Cemetary Polka. 
 Boy do these cats know how to put on one hell of a show. Never a dull moment? Jeez, you daren't blink let alone take your eyes off the stage, which, might I add, is not an inconsiderable amount of time. They must have been on for at least 2 hours. 

I've wracked my tiny peanut of a brain on  how to describe this band, without covering old ground & repeating what far more talented individuals than I, have previously written on the Urban Voodoo Machine. 
 If I was to explain to the uninitiated what this band are actually like as a live proposition; then dear reader, please take a seat, close your eyes & let your uncle Flash wax lyrical. 
 Just imagine a lorry carrying a full cargo of bourbon, jackknifes & crashes into the wildest New Orleans funeral you've ever seen, fronted by Cab Calloway & his orchestra fuelled on crack & you'll be going some way to learning what this band are actually like on stage. If that doesn't ring any bells with you, then dear reader, may I recommend you actually get off your arse & go to see 'em live!

Dear readers, I can only apologise for overloading this post with pictures, some may appear a little samey but I just couldn't decide for myself. So it falls to you my fluffy little swampducks; to trawl through 'em, make your own mind up & please feel free to nick, nab & snaffle any that may take your Sid'n'Nancy.
 As the shows course of  events took it's manic, nay, chaotic twists & turns, ( you never get boring with the Urban Voodoo Machine, they just don't do boring!) disaster was but a mere heartbeat away. 
 The only dead member of the band, the late J Roni Moe, drummer of some distinction, took it upon himself to go to stage front & centre & launch himself headfirst into the audience. Now you may think this is nothing out of the ordinary for a rock'n'roll show. However, certain things have to be taken into consideration! For instance, let's not gloss over the fact that this guy has been dead for quite some time & decomposition has reached it's latter stages, hence the reason why body parts & decaying green flesh residue were left on anything & anyone he touched. Namely, my freshly dry cleaned jacket! Bugger!!! That's another trip to the dry cleaners on Monday.

When the last note of this show had finally rung out, the Urban Voodoo Machine proved themselves to be no shrinking violets, coming out amongst the audience, drinking & chatting to anyone who'd care to listen. I have to say they're the loveliest bunch of people you could possibly wish to meet. The late J Roni Moe also proved himself to be quite a mover, cutting a fair old dash on the dance floor.
 This band usually ranges from between a nine piece to a twelve piece, this must prove to be an absolute logistical nightmare, just getting to a gig. They always put on one hell of a show & what's more, you can tell every single one of 'em loves every moment of being up on that stage.
 For us lucky Northerners, they're playing the Leeds Wardrobe again on 22nd of September. Book your tickets now, because these are flying off the shelves like shit from a shiny shovel.

Boys & girls! or should I say, BROTHERS & SISTERS! could it be possible, that just maybe, we could have quite possibly, happened upon the GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH?

CHIN CHIN!