We half expected The Barn at the Milton Arms to actually be, you know, a barn – perhaps with bales of hay, the gentle sound of cows a-lowing and broody hens clucking as we played. Alas not so, but it is kind of barn-shaped and actually quite a homely little venue.
We are here to perform at 'Roger Courtney's Open Mike Club' (Wasn't he the guy who spent his career with his clenched fist up the rear of Nookie the Bear? No? Oh, well…) The club is now run by his son, Nick. But Nick isn't present tonight, so we can't verify the bear connection. We are welcomed by his two stand-ins, one of whom is sporting a racy cravat and brown trilby combination. Nice!
After a quick soundcheck (luxury!), we settle in to watch Flis Pitman play. She's a feisty lass with some good tunes and a powerful set of lungs on her. In agreement with this, Ben points out that she 'wouldn't drown in a hurry'. I don't know how he could tell she was a strong swimmer – perhaps she'd shown him her 200m freestyle certificate earlier on?
Then it's us. I somehow forget half the bass line to 'Treasure It Because You Care, Natasha' – it's been a while since the last gig and we haven't practised the set much – but I think I got away with it. Ben also asks me to confirm he's got the chords right to 'Leave Me Alone', but as I haven't played them since I wrote the damn tune, I haven't got a clue! Anyway, overall it sounds pretty good especially the harmonies, and the folks out front seem to like what we do. Hurrah!
And now the open mic part of the evening begins. What a treat we're in for! The first band on are frankly, so bad that they're good. They sound a bit like a 15-year-old's first school band. Only worse. And the second band aren't much better. This could be because they appear to comprise mostly of the same members as the first one, only swapping instruments. And why, exactly, is the drummer wearing earmuffs? Presumably so he can't hear what a god-awful racket he's making. Next up is another band who make the most of their two song slot by playing a 15-minute dirge with a spoken word vocal expounding the ins and outs (pardon the pun) of penis enlargement. The upshot (pardon the pun) of which is that whilst indulging in acts of onanism, one should 'squeeze on the upstroke'. Don't try this at home, is my advice. On the bus or in a public library, maybe, but not at home.
Next, the guys running the night come on and do a couple of tunes themselves, apparently just to belittle the other open mic acts with their highly polished blue-eyed soul, with great vocals, tight harmonies and funky bass. But the best is yet to come. Earlier on, Sid and Ben both reported they'd seen a guy earnestly performing in a rockabilly style… in the toilets! By the time I have to next answer the call he's nowhere to be seen, but I don't have long to wait. Here he is, onstage, announced as 'Rock'n'Roll Laurie'! Now, if you're playing this kind of music, just about the most important thing you need in your rock'n'roll arsenal is the correct hairstyle, i.e. the quiff. Unfortunately Laurie's genes haven't been kind to him in the follicle department, and he's quite bald on top. However, apparently not one to bow to adversity, Rock'n'Roll Laurie had made a virtue of this happenstance by cultivating not one, but two quiffs – one on either side of his head! You've got to take your hat off to this man. And then he starts to play. I can't decide whether he's really good or really bad. Possibly both. Maybe I'm just dazzled by those twin quiffs – they're quite a distraction.
Well, it's been a Hell of an evening, but all good things must come to an end, so we're back off up the road, home to Farleigh Wallop. See you next time, pop pickers.
Neil
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