In the doghouse again. What a sweet, friendly pub this is - there aren't many pubs on Union street you can say that about. Invited by Josh from Justin and the Droogs to come and play his 'Droogfest' aka JATD's 1 year birthday. Presumably he couldn't find anyone else, so they got us, lucky things. Oh! and the PA.

With our favourite set up of amps and Vocal PA, we know where we are and what we're doing.. We set up really quick and are ready to go. Dave's a bit disappointed about the lack of a carpet under the drumkit, the rest of don't take much notice. Off we go. I am completely unprepared and spend the first song struggling to remember it. meanwhile Lamby's struggling with a sick guitar lead - I lob him my spare - I can't remember what i'm playing anyway, and finally we have a full band.

now we find out why Dave has concerns over the lack of a carpet, as he fully lives up to the 'slippery sticks' moniker. sticks are flying about our heads. Just to prove he's not aiming for fellow band members, the guy dancing gets hit with one. He picks it up and considers keeping it as a gig memento until he listens to us playing with our one-sticked drummer and decides we need it more than he does, and gives it back. Thankyou. Apparently, having no carpet means the drum kit slowly spreads out and sticks get caught under hi-hats and wrenched from your grasp and flung through the air. Novice stick-heads take note.

we play 16 songs in our allotted half hour, thank you to all those who responded. Sometime we'll wait for applause, but what's the point?!

Thanks to Josh for having us, hopefully see you next year!

Coming soon....christ! Am i slack?!! I don't need to write about this one, do I? I mean, you were probably there, surely.  OK, OK. Coming soon.....

Coming soon....

Coming soon....

Another gig in Torquay. This time we're with The Filth, CDS, Profane, and Lack of Discipline. Pie and I arrive later than the rest who have been there since early, with Dan loving it so much he' staying the night in a hotel with the birthday girl Bev. Lucky girl - a night in Torquay for her birthday. I slink off into Torquay in a fruitless pursuit of money - one cash machine was working and had attracted everybody in town. By the time I got back, the Filth had finished and we were on! We plug in our amps, PA man turns on the pa and all amps go off. AH. He tries again. This time all the lights in the pub go off. They come back on again. I sit and wait for a solution while Dan finds a solution. With only a moderate amount of persuasion, he gets Jamie from Lack of Discipline to loan a guitar amp - plug in a microphone and it's like 1976. Off we go - we have 15 minutes left. Seven songs later we stop, breath a sigh of relief and pack our stuff away again. Pie and I head for the warmth of the Seymour just in time for last orders and leave Dan and Bev to their fates in Torquay...

The Fortescue Inn, Plymouth

Seems like a while since we played here. Dan has bought a 300W Marshall pa from ebay that he's keen to use - he switched it on and the red light came on so he figured it worked fine... Anarcho Folko play before us, and yes, the pa works and is very loud. Then we play - a shortened set but that doesn't make it any less ramshackle. We have a set list that is abandoned after the first coupla songs and now consists of Dan yelling the next song in a classy random fashion. It's also after the first coupla songs we establish that not all of the pa is working well. My vocals are either non-existent or very quiet, a blessing I would have thought, but no, i end up shouting until hoarse. Dan's mic works fine, but he's deciding the songs and deciding to play all the ones I sing. "My voice packed up" he claims. Then the Loonies play, and they have similar issues with the vocals. But I reckon they were better than us. Mind you, they've been playing for longer than Elton John. 

A fundraiser for the Plymouth Punks Picnic, organised by Spud & Tara (& probably some others...) and hosted very kindly by the Firkin Doghouse. Denada Dan supplied the pa, so I guess we had to play. The Doghouse is a pretty good venue for gigs – smallish but long – you can stand at the back/outside if you want to talk, or get up close and enjoy the band’s spittle. Small stage with a rope at the front made it feel like a boxing ring yet made me look like a museum exhibit. Quarantine didn’t show (!) so we’re on earlier and Tara and Spud look a bit panicked at the lack of bands. We play a longer set than we thought we would, which meant all our songs. If you were there at our last gig in the Seymour you would recognise Dan’s new interpretation of ’15 Minutes’. Two frets too high again. This time there are musicians in the audience as Loonie/Spunk/Froglet Steve was wondering which one of us was wrong. Musicians, eh? It’s like a secret sect. Anyway, we were both wrong, relatively.

Apart from that it went as well as it has done before. No idea what my vocals were like, as I couldn’t hear them. Sadly the audience could, so I apologise to anyone with sensitive ears. My most positive memory was from the ‘8 before 8’ blackboard, with two guys names next to: ‘Record: 22 pints’. Each?

The Filth were on last in fine, fine form. Plenty of youngsters here weren’t even born when the Filth were in their prime, their loss, really. Just to prove you don’t have to be in tune to be good. You just have to be good.

Here we are in the Seymour again. Somehow Dan has persuaded G.O.R.G.E.O.U.S. to visit glorious Plymouth again. Maybe they enjoy his hospitality… Dan ferries all the equipment down to the Seymour while I’m at home with my girlfriend telling me she’s moving out and back to Guildford. This is not the start I imagined. Eventually I wander down, closely followed by 4 or 5 big skinhead blokes that follow me in. They start drinking, I start helping to set up and eventually it’s time to start.

And off we go. Big skinhead blokes are taking photos of each other in front of us, and yelling something at us, in Polish.

Three songs in and something falls over behind me. Turns out to be my guitar case crashing into ‘Slippery Sticks’ Dave. He takes evasive action without missing many beats and it only knocks over his selection of water. Luckily his drum mat soaks it all up, and he doesn’t seem too badly hurt at all…

The set rattles along, Dan starts ’15 minutes’ and it sounds awful – he’s playing it in the wrong place: 2 frets too high. Maybe dots aren’t enough on his guitar and he needs numbers as well. Lamby Pie is a musician so he adapts instantly – I struggle since I’m playing open chords and I’m not a musician. No-one seems to notice.

The Polish punks translate their yells which we are interpreting as abuse into English: “We Love You!!”. Bizarre. We have Polish fans.

Eventually we crash into the end. It’s starting to feel like a band at last. Soon-to-be-ex-girlfriend says it’s the best we’ve ever played, even Bev agrees. Next up are G.O.R.G.E.O.U.S. I always remember them as being fantastic, and they still are. Deafening though – I guess they have to keep up with the drummer who is the loudest I’ve ever heard!

Coming Soon!

Possibly never.

The Seymour Inn is our Nowhere alternative. It’s a nice, friendly relaxed pub. So nice and friendly that when the landlord, Steve, found out we had a band he asked us play. We ummed and aahed, but he was keen. ‘We haven’t had a band here for years!” he said. We even tried to put him off by giving him a CD, he gave it back saying, “well, I can’t see it going down very well, but we’ll give it  a go shall we?”. So here we are. In a friendly local pub about to ruin everyone’s Saturday night, with the risk that we may never be able to show our faces here again. Steve showed us where to set up, what time would be good to play, then left for the evening with his wife. Smart man.

We recruited S-Punk 3 to share the blame, I mean, bill, which turned out to be a smart move. Two short sets were popular with everyone. S-Punk put in a good set, their familiar songs luring the audience into a false sense of security. Then after a short, peaceful interlude, we started. Friends, WAGS and the curious attended. Locals merged with the curious. Off we went. On the second song I knocked my bottle of beer over myself, my amp and the floor. Fingers slippy with Cobra’s finest, plectrums pinged off left right and centre. Then the beer dried and it became worse. Plectrum stuck firmly to fingers, usually in the wrong position. I battled with this while remembering words, chords and ‘tune’. The pool of beer grew around my feet as I wondered which chord was going to be my last, then migrated towards the bar from where it had came.

This is another night where we gatecrash a Loonies practice, I mean gig, but in bizarre chain of events we go on after them. The mighty Bus Station Loonies surrender to the force of Denada! Actually Loonie Steve the bassplayer had to leave early, so force of Denada does whatever it’s told. Like ‘bring yer PA’.

There were some birthdays this evening as well, Tony Popkids, Loonie drummer and Nat as well. We played way too loud, but seeing as it was cold outside most people stayed inside.  A tactic we may have to explore…

We're in Torquay again, representing punk music in the Townhouse's "Metal vs Punk" Night. We get there to find Cher in a medium panic: out of 6 bands, 3 have not turned up. One band can't make it, one band's broken down, one band has crashed in the fog. We're keen to play early, at least I am, and get back to Plymouth to have a drink before Christmas. Cher's keen for us to play late due to the lack of bands. We go and eat, back in the part-time chippy again. We return to find we're on second, but the first band are reluctant to take to the stage. We decide to go on anyway. This spurs them into action at the thought of missing their slot. So they play - a metal duo of drums and bass guitar. Unique, I thought - if you can't get a guitarist - fuck it; play anyway! Respect to them, especially ending with a cover version of Billie Jean. Can't remember what they were called. Then it's us. Cher tells us to mention that we're representing punk. Just in case anyone's not sure. And off we go. I have a bad cold - the first song I have to sing on feels like my head is going to explode. I'm not sure it didn't but the feeling didn't get any better. I look down at my hands, they seem to be playing in slow motion. I decide to let them do what they want as they seem to doing OK, and concentrate on remembering the words and letting the adrenaline work its wonders. We have two new songs to do - Dave hasn't heard them yet, but it doesn't seem to matter - off we go, telling him when to stop drumming. Sounds OK, except for the second one which is a bit slow requiring me to hold some notes, something that's at the limit of my ability at the best of times. But with a cold? I can only apologise. . . Guys at the front are enjoying it which is nice, with some inventive dancing. One guy passes out on the speaker cab and is discreetly escorted from the place by the doorman. Then we finish. We move to the back of the Townhouse to politely support the next band. Cher tries to give us money which Demon Negotiator Dan manages to get her to keep, or put towards their new PA at least, and takes a tenner (I think!) to cover our fuel. And off we go, out into the patchy fog back to Plymouth. We even get back in time for a beer with friends in the Seymour, but we're all too knackered to be much fun. My cold eventually dissipated on New Years Eve…. Thanks to Cher for having us, and the crowd at the Townhouse for making it worthwhile. See you all in 2007!

Another gig for Plymouth Environment Centre, Either they like us or no-one else was available. In the basement of the Fortescue Pub with Hari Kari Karaoke, Profane and the reshuffled S Punk 3. After the 'acoustic' gig disaster we are more than ready to make a racket. And we achieve it effortlessly during the practice song; the landlady comes down to announce that she's 'been to the fourth floor and can hear every note. You'll have to turn it down'. We turn it down by moving the bass amp away from the wall and blocking up the chimney... Doesn't sound much, but we get no more complaints! Wheelchair rolls out the Hari Kari Karaoke Show, while I nip home to trim me fingernails. Profane rattle out their short set, followed by a cautious S Punk 3, gently exercising two new members (making them S Punk 4?). Then it's us. The place is nicely full and off we go. Three songs in and it's evident we are going very very fast. We play all our songs including 3 new ones and people are dancing! I see Adrianna jumping up and down, but she hasn't been out for a while, and Sandra shaking a leg or two - even Dougie jigged about a bit. 

We had a great time getting drenched in our own sweat and shouting ourselves hoarse, all to raise a few quid for the Plymouth Environment Centre - and they made about £140. Not bad for a nights work!

We stumble home, deaf and tired to dress Lamby Pie's wounds (it's a tough life as a Denada bassist) making him look like he's tried to commit suicide...

Thanks for everyone that showed up and cheered, and to Erica and everyone at the PEC for having us.

Back in the Union again. We were under the belief that we were supporting an acoustic band so we opted for 'Denada Lite' - acoustic guitars, and Dave on bongos. The other band had one acoustic guitar plugged into a 100W Crate head and a 4x10 cabinet. The other instruments were all electric, complete with a sparkly silver drumkit. They also had a very cool 40's style microphone.

So we played our playable set with no bass, drums or passion. It's been a while since we finished a song to silence - even our WAG's were stunned into silence. We lurched through to the end and finished with relief and hung around to see the main band. Meanwhile Southend showed Manchester United what a little bit of passion does to your game and beat them 1-0. I was pleased and I'm not even from Southend. Don't even like football, actually. . . 

Then Even in Blackouts came on after their slap up meal in the Wah Tin chinese restaurant (no chip suppers for them, I noticed) and proceeded to rock like their life depended on it. Great band I thought, Jarhead's bleeding fingers aside, and I even bought a CD.

A gig outside of the salty grip of Plymouth. It's the English Riviera for us on a cold November Friday. The evening started to improve dramatically once we found the Townhouse, tucked away behind a defensive line of one-way roads. Cher was there to meet us, and make us feel welcome. Nobody's Heroes turned up and all the drummers went into a huddle to sort out the Great Drumkit Challenge. Nobody's Heroes had spent 3 ½ hours driving from Chippenham so it's no wonder they wanted to get off early. I suspect only 1 ½ hours was spent driving between Chippenham and Torquay and the rest in the Torquay one way system trying to find the place… Two other bands were playing: Detox and the Miscreants. After a chip supper in one of Torquay's less salubrious establishments (but bloody nice chips!) we wandered back to hear the other bands. Nobody's Heroes got the place up and jumping with a manic moshpit that spilled over into the band: I have an enduring memory of the Sam singing, "I'm going over the waalll", as he nearly goes over the drumkit. Great stuff. Then it's us, a little less response, but good nonetheless. Dancing from the kids and heckling/banter from Sam of Nobody's Heroes. After being likened to the Pixies, Fugazi, the Clash and a combination of all three, tonight, Matthew we are going to be The Gang of Four. Well, according to Sam, anyway. And he was closest to us, so he should know. We really enjoyed ourselves - I wish I hadn't got so many chords wrong or forgotten so many words. . . .

We had a great time in Torquay - thanks to everyone that made it a great night, especially Cher - what a star she is. And the girl with dreads! Who'd have thought she was 39!!

Well, you know you've arrived when the Uni asks you to play! Supporting the excellent Crazy Arm. Complete with PA by NUB, I could hear myself - not pleasant but good for the punters! There were curtains, and they opened and there were people. Off we go and built up a good head of steam until Dan broke a string, I told some jokes and it was never the same again. A great laugh though, even though we were 4 sweaty old men in a students union with 19 year old students. Respect for the dreadlocked girl who approached us afterwards to say she liked us. 'Sounded a bit like the Clash' she said, very flattering and you can only wonder how bad her clash recordings were. All i wanted to say was, 'What's a cool person like you doing here?' But as usual I struggled to say anything at all....

We got paid!!! In cold hard cash and free beer. Boy did we get drunk. Thanks for having us Chris!

Another year, another punx picnic, another venue. White Rabbit this time, with a new stage! Anyone arriving early would find Spud and Dave still building it. But a great improvement. We played OK. Fairly swiftly I would say, a big thanks to those who watched and supported us! And thanks to Tara and Spud for putting on the picnic. What a great commitment to your local scene. 

The Nowhere again?! This time it's for Dan's birthday. Another birthday. We'll be playing weddings and barmitzvahs soon. Ah what the hell, Dan is our guitarist. This time we're supported by the very able HariKari Karaoke to entertain us with his punk rock music-hall cabaret.

We use the same setup as last time as it has the benefit that we can hear ourselves - not that we're egotists, just that we're really bad at singing. Dan is in a mild panic as our 'new' PA, ie the 10 year old transistor one (as opposed to the 35 year old valve one!) fails to amplify. It looks like we're going to have to rely on Jim Marshall's handiwork from 1970, when i notice the speaker lead is plugged into the footswitch (!). I plug it into the right socket, and hey presto ! I can hear Dan's voice, but louder. The faulty amp repaired, we plug the rest of our gear in and steam away. We hide a few new ones in the set and now our set is reaching the unheard of length of 40 minutes. Not exactly Bruce Springsteen standards, but we do play over 20 songs. We reach the end sweaty, hoarse, knackered, and deaf. Unplug our instruments and head for the bar. . .

I leave moderately early - I have a new job to start the next day - my last sight was of Dan being handed about half a pint of whiskey. I believe the morning arrived a bit to soon for him.

The Nowhere Inn, Gilwell Street, Plymouth

Back in the Nowhere, hijacking another Bus Station Loonies gig! This one was for Bev, Dan's tolerant girlfriend, whose birthday it is. And the lucky birthday girl gets a Denada gig as a present! See what a tolerant woman she is... She was generously supplied with a pair of Denada earplugs (free on application!) to make her evening more pleasurable. After discovering at the Plymouth Uni gig that it is possible to hear your own vocals (courtesy of the excellent NUB Sound), we wire up some foldback of our own, using the astonishing 12W Marshall Vocal PA (c.1970!) and two ex-Marshall guitar speakers. It works, after a fashion... Well I could hear it! We played our set - I remembered most of the words, but i figure it's the endings that are important, not the beginnings! We were OK, tight, and to-the-point. I don't think Bev even used her earplugs!

Then the Loonies played, with Dave as a stand-in drummer. Seems he plays a little quicker than Tony Popkids, which left Wheelie struggling to get the words out. Look out for them on tour...

The Students Union Plymouth Uni:

Well, this is nice, playing somewhere different. Or should that be indifferent. This is the UPSU open mic night. Drummer Dave is now working here so he secures us a full half hour slot. Four people wait excitedly for our appearance. Two are Tara and Spud. One is the big bloke from the Nowhere who's really friendly but i either don't know, or have forgotten his name...We rocket through our set, I forget quite a lot, but the sound was awesome, so everyone could hear ALL our mistakes! I'd just finished my degree that day so the fact that i was still upright by 9pm was something of a miracle, let alone fit to play. Nozzle headline and make a lot of noise for a 3 piece. We get drunk in the Union on cheap lager and I relish the idea of not having to think for quite some time....

The Junction - Plymouth, Mutley Plain

Another gig with The Bus Station Loonies at one of the few live music venues in Plymouth, at the start of Mutley Planet. Home of the bizarre stage with a drum sinker. We played here before (see 28/01/06) and it's one of the last gigs before the place gets turned into an Irish theme bar (what the fu..?!!) and we all boycott it. Off we go on the count of four and belt our way through the set. Despite Dan's flexible set list and reliance on telepathy to inform us what's going on we do OK. We have cd's for sale now, and Dan manages to sell one for way too much. If you're reading this, we owe you a coupla quid, or a beer, whichever's more desired! The loonies played next and were fantastic, one of the best gigs I've seen them do in about oooh 8 years? Ended the night in the Nowhere, drunken and apathetic. Thanks to everyone that showed up: Dixie, Jenni, Bea, Louie, and Chris's eclectic work mates.....

The Nowhere, Plymouth

Well, if you can't be bothered to get your own gigs, hijack someone elses! So here we are opening for the Bus Station Loonies in our local boozer for Louie's Birthday bash. The place is rammed. Another benefit of hijacking someone elses gig! We made a Godawful racket , though some people were very complimentary, probably because we'd stopped. ThanksWheelie and Phil for being so, err, accomadating....

Tramps, Plymouth

This was a gig to support Sweary Mark's effort to get some sort of live music scene going. We're using our 150W practice vocal pa which is going to struggle a bit... so we decide to use our legendary 12W (yes, twelve) Marshall vocal amp for foldback. With a bit of fiddling, it all works. We hide our speakers in the stack of speakers at the side. It looks impressive, but the sound is only coming out the middle speaker! We drag a lonely monitor speaker for foldback, and off we go. And by god it sounds alright. This was the first gig we've ever played that we could hear what we were singing. From a 12W amp! Other bands played, and they sounded all right as well. No worse, if not better, than the legendary Wonky sound that the Sweary Collective used to employ. When asked why he always used the SLS switch (Sound Like Shit), the response would be: "We know he's shit, but he's cheap!". And not a mixing desk in sight.

Recording at John Carter's Studio (April Media Productions)

Oh the joys of recording. Somehow we've manage to have gigs with recording sandwiched in between, so our voices are hoarse, our ears are fucked and our judgements impaired. But one of our tracks is to be used as a soundtrack for a film: checkout this: www.urbanfreeflow.comand.com watch the film 'Evidence'.

The Viaduct - Plymouth, Mutley Plain

Here we are again playing at a charity do for Plymouth's Environment Centre with the Loonies, Black Friday, and S Punk 3. Last time we played here, people danced, and it was a highlight of our live experiences. This time people are already dancing. After asking the sound guy if could mike up my amp, and also if it's possible to sort out a microphone to sing into, once he's finished chatting up wheelie, of course, if it's not too much trouble... We sprint through our set, hampered by a few buzzy leads, but I doubt if people could tell the difference between our music and a buzzy lead anyway. People danced again! We seemed to arrive at the end of our set pretty damned quick, with Savage asking for a Ramones cover or something. The Loonies finished of the night in true Loonie style, we all got drunk and everyone had a great night. And the Environment Centre made about £350. Result all round I reckon.

The Junction, Plymouth

Here we are supporting the Bus Station Loonies, Plymouth 's longest running punk band, and record-breakers to boot. This is in one of Plymouth 's busier pubs, on a Saturday night. For some reason the stage is on two levels - instead of a drum riser there is a drum sinker: a low bit where the drums are surrounded by a two foot wide stage where we are supposed to play. It ranks pretty high on the trip potential. Must remember not to step back. We played to more people at the Punx Picnic, but that was like-minded people. This is to people trying to have a night out. Hey Ho, let's go. Luckily our friends have turned out in force to support us. Yeah! Thanks to Jenni, Dixie Diana, Bev, Pip & Greg, Kiri, Emma, Welsh Andy, Q, and the Loonies who made us feel pretty good. Is it cool to be able to list all your fans by name in one sentence? Our new bass player LambyPie, the babe-magnet at our Viaduct gig, now finds himself playing to audience that has a girl he's keen on.
Nine-thirty, on we go. Halfway into the set and people are still in the building. There are cheers and applause when we finish each song. Wow. I forget the chords to Where Were You, and the lyrics to Mad World, but at least I didn't fall into the drum sinker and trip over the cymbal stand like Dan did. We witness some spectacular dancing from one individual, whose eccentric and random arm movements concealed the fact he was groping the girls.
We finish. People are complimentary. A random skater-friend from the past tells me he blew out a 3 course meal to stay and watch and is glad he did. One sold CD. Wish I'd known where the meal was, I'd have gone in his place.... LambyPie puts down his bass, and his beer, and disappears into the night with semi-wooed girl and her friends. Never underestimate the power of punk rock!!
And the Loonies were on form as usual. Never thought I'd see Chris as shocked as he was when Dixie's bra hit him right between the eyes. What a great night.

The Phoenix, Plymouth

This is one of Plymouth's most popular live venue that cater for punk. Last time we played here we were dreadful. And this time wasn't much better, but there were more people in the audience, we were a bit tighter, and people clapped.Dan had a cold so he wasn't 100%, I couldn't see the dots on my guitar cos it was so dark (that's my excuse, and it's a good one) so I was stuffed, and NewBoy Lamby Pie started Mad World in the wrong key. We decide to call that one a practice with an audience.......!

Playing with Profane and the Bus Station Loonies. This is one of those nights where a venue is available and the owner fancies a night out so a gig is organised. It's not publicised of course, in true Plymouth fashion, but enough people turn up to call it a night out. Profane blast through their set with Wheelie offering vocal support, then it's us. We play, no-one can hear my vocals as usual, but McCann dances to "Not in My Name" and so I'm flattered. Good gig this one. Even LambyPie is enthused, and while he still hasn't actually joined the band, he's also refusing to leave.

We return to the safety of the Nowhere Inn. The pub actually seems to get busier as we run through our set, people must have heard we are nearly finished. There are people dancing at the front (again!), and the applause between songs sounds way louder than the polite version we've got used too....Ian tells us we can't sing. We already know this. Steve (pa provider and Loony bassist) tells us we don't sing loud enough. Steve, if we sang louder we would have to remember the words. And find the tune.

The Viaduct, Plymouth

A benefit gig for Plymouth 's Environment Centre. Along with The Rooms, and Perfect Imperfection and Maida Vale Pain.This is LambyPie's first public performance. We seem to be playing last, which in some locales is called headlining, in Plymouth it means we're playing to all the people too drunk/tired/homeless to go home. Two bands are fun, battling PA problems - well done to the guy who stepped in at the last minute to engineer, what a steep learning curve for him! We have to follow a band that have sucked all the atmosphere out of the place with their progrock vocal histrionics. I battle to resist having my will to play weakened - there is hardly a soul left. There seems no point. I must resist, resist, resist. Eventually they finish. We start our shambolic racket, and oddly it seems like a breath of fresh air has swept through the place. After a couple of songs people are dancing! Girls! Girls we don't even know! This is a bit of a strange experience. Especially for LambyPie. He has a scantily clad girl yelling in his ear while he plays. I'm trying to sing and see what's happening, which is impossible. I look at Dan. He shrugs his shoulders with a 'Lamby's first gig and he's pulled' look. What does she want? As the song shudders to a stop we find out: "PLAY SOME PRODIGY" she's screaming. We launch into the next song as a doorman carries her off to her boyfriend and LambyPie looks crestfallen.

We finish the set. Dancing Dixie yells for more. Then she threatens me personally, and Liz joins in so we play another song or two. Everyone seems happy, we dive into a taxi and head for home leaving Dixie and Wheelie to wander off into the night...

Tramps, Plymouth

Ah, what would we do without Tramps? The venue I mean. We're on, but we're on late: 1am. We wait and wait. Greg turns up at last but drunk. Again. But this time with attitude. We play OK, the bass is there most of the time. We go down well, I think people are getting used to our short. noisy songs. Which is more than Greg. He insists we play one more. Dan says, "We can't, we need 4 people". Questions of commitment are asked, and answers of resignation are returned. So we sacked him. We now need a bass player. Hey ho.

Nowhere Inn

The cuddly Nowhere Inn. We're starting to feel like locals. Gear is set up super fast since we know that the pool table WILL fit in sideways down the end. In fact Greg is such a local he has a go at playing pissed, which doesn't work all that well. We go down well, I think. At least there are still people in the pub when we finish. Practice is paying off!

Punx Picnic 2005

Punx Picnic Again? Seems to get earlier every year. We are playing on the sunday, the so-called 'acoustic' venue, so everyone can recover from the madness of friday and saturday. Except that it's not acoustic, and there is little chance of recovery. On the same bill as Babar Luck, who was rather amazing, and first showing of Mark McCann's band Profane. Mark's mate has a carrier bag of earplugs. "Profane on next! Get your free earplugs here. Profane on next. Free earplugs!" Classic. Actually they were OK, and i wasn't even wearing my earplugs. We're on next. We play, fast and frantic. There are photos somewhere. Luckily we didn't play the same time as Population Pod, who gatecrashed the whole thing in spectacular style by pulling up outside in their VW combi and playing without getting out. They roar off in style: "We're off to Union Street, we're on a tour of Plymouth tonight!".

Barbican Theatre, B-Bar

Wheelie's Odd Ball. We play our first song, and a neighbour complains it's too loud. Very quick neighbour, that song was only a minute and a half long. We turn it down a bit. Play two more songs, still too loud. Dan and Greg turn down a bit. I can't hear Dan's guitar. Dan can't hear his guitar. Still too loud. Short of giving Dave brushes to play with there's not much we can do. Dan offers a deal, "How about we play one more song then go home?" Deal. We play Mad World, not as loud as we should have! We sounded great as well. Hey ho. Great enough for someone to offer us a gig in Scotland. Maybe they were neighbours. . .

Nowhere Inn

Our local boozer. The first time we played here everyone but Max the dog stood outside. This time we decided to turn it down a bit, and some people stay indoors. We finish after what seems like half an hour, and was half an hour. Gina wasn't impressed: "Well I flashed my tits at you and you didn't even notice". I ask the rest of the band. None of us noticed Gina's highly decorated tits. Must remember to engage the audience. Or at least look at them.

Punx Picnic 2004

Well, this was the one we got together for. We were opening act on Thursday. Then further up the bill on Friday. Must have impressed someone! The sound on Friday was awesome. Sounded almost like a real rock band. Blasted through the set and people really applauded. I even saw feet tapping and knees bending. Eck gave us a request: "Play some more. Or else". Great gig.