Last Monday’s gig at the King’s Head was interesting. It started off normally enough but soon changed. Someone decided the band needed a dancer. So far so good. Unfortunately “far” wasn’t the operative word as the dancer seemed to think that sliding under my feet was going to impress me. It didn’t. Nor did dancing in my face. The clown was soon joined by another equally energetic and completely unnecessary companion. Normally I like to see people dancing…

But this wasn’t normal. These two enthusiasts were both male; not my cup of tea. I closed my eyes and thought of England. That didn’t work so we decided to take an early break. I suggested to the bar staff that they might add some sedative to the dancers’ drink, but I wasn’t taken seriously. That happens quite a lot and yet I have so much to offer…

When we started the second set I suggested that the dancers remained seated. That didn’t work either, though I could tell by the over-the-top reply that they were paying attention. As the set proceeded reinforcements arrived in the form of female dancers who were polite enough to give me airspace, not that I’d have complained in their case. The gig ended peacefully and in fact was well received by everyone, including the dancers, who wanted to know when we were back there. That‘s when I had the memory lapse…

Tuesday evening I did my usual round of Portobello Road pubs ending at the Metropolitan in time to catch some of the open mike evening. I was greeted by one of the participants with the news that they had all tuned up before they began. I regarded this as encouraging. T-Bone Taylor turned up there too, but we declined to offer our talents because we were running out of drinking time. However when the pub closed we were invited to partake of hospitality offered by this site’s web-designer, Jason, who conveniently lives nearby. Another late night…

Wednesday afternoon I met guitarist Bernie Pallo in Soho and we then went to see the movie “The Honeydripper” which was on in Shaftesbury Avenue. It was overrated in our estimation but the rest of the world is free to disagree, preferably without being disagreeable, if you get my drift. After that we went to the Coach and Horses around the corner in Greek Street, which is where the cover photogaph of the Waydown band was taken. We decided to have a drink or two there and sat outside waiting to be discovered. Needless to say, we were not.

Bernie tried to get in touch with his friend Sally who’d suggested watching the Euro-Final at the Warwick Castle in Maida Vale. As he doesn’t have a mobile we tried to call her on mine but merely got her answerphone. Just by chance, half an hour later, she walked by on the other side of the street. So much for modern communications. We had another drink and then the three of us went to the Warwick. The match ended in a penalty shoot-out. What a joke!

Thursday evening I went to yet another pub to watch a band. They arrived late and proceeded to set up. This took ages though most of the problem seemed to be the midi and computer links to the PA. When they started it didn’t take long for everything to go wrong. Feedback problems, wrong backing tracks, over-zealous use of effects. What is wrong with live musicians providing the rhythm? The singer was good as were the guitarist and keyboards, but they didn’t seem to be able to handle the problem. I didn’t stay for the second set, deciding instead that I would check them out when the rest of the singer’s band were back from some other gig. I haven’t named the singer or the pub because they deserve better and it was obviously one of those nights when things don’t happen. I must be getting tolerant in my old age!