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!!