So, when I returned recently from my holiday in France (which was followed swiftly by a weekend at a festival in the countryside), I hadn't had my daily dose of the Guardian for 10 days, and I genuinely didn't have a clue what was going on in the world. I remember ringing one of my contacts that morning ( to touch base, maybe get a bit of work out of him) and him saying "well, what with everything that's going on in the world...), and me saying "eh? Have I missed something? What IS going on in the world?". It turns out that the biggest financial crash for years was going on. For the next two weeks, at least the first ten pages of the Guardian were full of impending dosh doom. Until Gordon saved the world, that is.
And so, I reckoned it was time to batten down the cash hatch and do some free stuff. Free is one of my favourite words - Blondie likes it too, and we often marvel at all the stuff you can do for absolutely nowt. The problem is that seeing lots of lovely live music often involves paying for a ticket. But not if you go to the Sheepwalk in Leytonstone on a Wednesday evening.
The Sheepwalk is a big, old boozer, very trad decor, large wooden bar. Upstairs, there is a function room, and this is where the free fun begins. Each Wednesday, a lovely Irish guy called Stephen runs a night called What's Cookin'?, which usually has a couple of acts/bands on...and it's free. Yes, that's right - entry costs NOTHING. And he gets some great acts. Last Wednesday, me, Blondie and Smiff drove up there in Betty Ford and watched Black Diamond Heavies:
(that organ player - sigh - brunette, voice like crushed glass mixed with a single malt). And we needn't have paid a penny. Stephen has a clever plan - he hands round this huge, oversized, decorative 1970's brandy glass and has a whipround for the band. I love this. This fits perfectly with the venue, which is just one room with a small bar in the corner, and is done out in a kitsch Hawaii-meets-working-mens-club style, of which I heartily approve. Very cool, with a whiff of the homemade about it all. And Stephen is a total sweetheart. I'd love to know if he makes any money at all out of this, but I suspect he does it for the love of it. Maybe some of those greedy City Boys could learn something from a chap like this.
(that organ player - sigh - brunette, voice like crushed glass mixed with a single malt). And we needn't have paid a penny. Stephen has a clever plan - he hands round this huge, oversized, decorative 1970's brandy glass and has a whipround for the band. I love this. This fits perfectly with the venue, which is just one room with a small bar in the corner, and is done out in a kitsch Hawaii-meets-working-mens-club style, of which I heartily approve. Very cool, with a whiff of the homemade about it all. And Stephen is a total sweetheart. I'd love to know if he makes any money at all out of this, but I suspect he does it for the love of it. Maybe some of those greedy City Boys could learn something from a chap like this.
Thursday brought another bargain - the lovely Mr C came up trumps with a guestlist treat for little ol' me to go and see Archie Bronson Outfit at The Roundhouse. I drove over and collected my ticket from the box office, who also gave me a wristband for the aftershow - this was a bit of a bummer, because this could have meant taking advantage of more free stuff (well, bottled water) but I didn't fancy standing around, single and sober, surrounded by a shitfaced Bobby Gillespie and Kate Moss. Gig was bloody good, though. ABO were top, although the audience clapped quite politely, as they were clearly all Spiritualized fans. This is funny, because I am no fan of Spiritualized at all and clapped and whistled loudly and enthusiastically for ABO. Man next to me looked at me in an odd way - "who does this small, noisy thing belong to???". Spiritualized were actually pretty impressive - I'm a sucker for a bit of rock with added gospel/religious overtones.
By Friday, the "free" thing went tits up. As it had been the Brummie's birthday, I'd bought two tickets for her and Screwster to The Local at The Kings Head to see Voice Of The Seven Woods. As I also wanted to go to the gig, I bought another ticket for me. If you can do the math, that's three tickets. As it turned out on the night, they thought that the two tickets were for me and the Brummie, so Screwster bought himself a ticket too. NO! NO! NO! That's four tickets for three people! TOO MANY TICKETS PAID FOR! This made me feel like I'd totally undone all my good "free" work from earlier in the week. So, as penance, I'll be living off Tesco Value beans all week and sitting in the dark.
