Bloody hell, it's been a while since my last post, but alas my dears, I've had nowt to report. In fact we ain't been to a gig since the beginning of December.
Along with having to put up with abject poverty in the face of short time employment, strife, disease, death, plague & pestilence have all been prevalent, nay 'rampant' in our miserable lives. Oh yes indeed me old shipmates, things have been pretty grim around 'Tightpocket towers' of late.
But you know me; I'm not one to complain!!!!!!!???!!!!!!!
So it was with great joy & jubilation when 'Gertrude' & me boarded the train from Wakefield to London Kings Cross, for we were confident! aye sir, we knew, there was a full weekend of rock'n'roll heaven waiting to greet us at the end of our journey.
After checking into our digs, the first port of call was the Kings Cross, Chop Chop noodle house (great food, great prices).
Without further ado, your intrepid duo were on their way to The new Cross inn.
Just in time for a pint before Max Splodge hit the boards. There'll be more of Max on a later post, but special mention must go to 'The Splodgettes'. Maxs' backing vocal duo. For they are indeed the fiercest pair of babes you ever did feast your mince pies upon. Imagine 'Motts' vocal troupe 'Thunderthighs' on bad, baaaaad acid, & you'd be getting somewhere close. One sideways glance at these chicks & they'd have you running for the hills crying for your mother! They are indeed the arch enemies of trouser confidence; Medusa! re-animated in groinal form.
And yay, it did finally come to pass; after all the waiting & all the travelling, we were finally in the company of like minded individuals, once again watching our man; the ageless, timeless, Honest John Plain.
This time with Alex Karl Gold on percussion. I'd love to know what that little egg like thing was that he was shaking next to the mic, but I was just too vain to ask & come across like the proverbial dumb Northener.
There's something about these Honest John solo shows that fill you with a sense of 'the feelgood factor'. The bread knife & me have tried to put our collective finger on why that is & the only obvious conclusion is, that HE WRITES SUCH BLOODY GOOD SONGS! Every one an absolute gem. We were even treated to a newie from his forthcoming album; the delicately titled 'I hate my Fucking job'. Oh yes indeed my fluffy little cherubs; it's got anthem & crowd pleaser written all over it!
There you go my dears, another great show from your old mate Honest John Plain. Y'see there are some bands you go to see, who are good, but their shows can go on a little too long. However, the Mrs & me could watch & listen to this fella all night long. Yup! we bloody love 'im!
Just before I sign off, may I offer a massive thank you to Mr Steve Metcalfe, the gentleman who handles all matters concerning the Boys & H.J.P. For he did take time out to introduce me to one of my all time heroes, 'Mr Casino Steel'. Aaah, how I recall wearing out the stylus on my old turntable listening to 'blowing dust off the angels wings'. It's not quite up there with 'ingesting dust from a dusky maidens thigh' you understand, but musically, it's up there with the best. Gawd bless you Steve.
As ever my dears please feel free to nick, nab & snaffle any of my ropey snaps for thine own delectation.
& yay we did have the luxury of Honest John & the Boys to look forward to tomorrow eve.
Chin Chin my dears.
