Mmmm, Nottingham Rock City. Not the gig I look forward to the most when I scan through the gig list sent by Halfy Jepson on his steam powered faxing device. Mmmm, there’s a thread here - “Not the gig I look forward to the most...” It all seems very familiar.
The reason though is a good one. Cold.
Let me say that again in big letters - COLD. Like no other cold. It’s always fucking freezing in this gig be it summer, winter, autumn or spring. Brass monkeys sit huddled in every corner frantically searching for the 2 things that that make them distinguishable from your everyday common or garden monkeys.
Now cold in itself aint too bad, but cold combined with searing heat courtesy of Abbiss, his crew and 2 million candles worth of hot makes the usually sedate life of your average guitar a veritable turmoil of string contracting then expanding misery. Long and short of it is that the little buggers go in and out of tune quicker than Ricks flared pantaloons go in and out of fashion.
Problem solved by the ever helpful Halfy Jepson who provides me with a small yet powerful fan heater to keep my precious babies in almost tropical conditions. Now I don't know if anyone has explained the reason why Barry is called Halfy Jepson but it all stems from the time.......
Oh the joy and rapture on Ricks cherubic chops as I hand him yet another in a long succession of almost perfectly tuned guitars. It’s moments like this which make all the heartache and pain worthwhile. - Now Rick, about that wage rise.
Only one tiny miniscule problem rears its ugly head on this most perfect of days, when Ricks Marshall stack(for want of a better term) decides to stop working 45 seconds before the pop band takes to the stage. 1800 screaming fans scream, “Hurry up you fuckwit”. I look around and I am alone on a stage, beautifully lit by Abbiss, with a can of Servisol in one hand and a screwdriver in the other.
INSTANT NO MESS, NO FUSS, ABSOLUTELY NO WAITING COLONIC IRRIGATION!!!!
Mmmm, I’d better do something. A little sprinkling of magic roadie dust and it all starts to work again.
“Is it going to work for the whole gig?” Rick asks as he goes on stage.
“Yes of course” I reply as I continue to fill in an application form for shelf stacker at Netto.
A top rocking gig is had by all. I even manage to get a shower afterwards and retire to my bunk smelling almost human.
As a footnote, I meet up with Dan (that's Dan Dan the ladies man) and his mates in the pub for a very very swift brown sauce just before the gig. The pub is called The Horn in the Hand.
Mmmm, now what’s that all about then?