Release the hounds of hell!

As the lack of an audience seems to have captured people’s imagination I thought I would reminisce about one of the many gigs that I have played at that might bring back a few memories for at least one person.

We were young, we were hip, we were cool, we were stupid that’s what we were.

The band was called ‘The Stand’ and was made up of myself, the boy Bassbin and Goodbin on drums.

We had been invited to perform at the annual British Legion dinner dance in Pill near Bristol, England. Don’t ask me why, but we had.

We arrived, van crammed with gear to be greeted by the administrator of the BL a nice (yet eccentric) old lady called Darcy, who was bedecked in her purple rinse, tiara, pearls and a fur coat, with a yappy little dog tearing around her ankles.

I think she’d had the great idea of putting on a rock band to try and liven this annual octogenarian shin-dig up a bit. However, at the first sight of speakers, amps and especially the drummer her courage suddenly failed her.

We dutifully put the equipment together as quietly as we could, yet even the strumming of unplugged electric guitars appeared to elicit a sense of panic amongst the pensioners.

Darcy approached us looking nervous. “Look lads, we won’t be finishing our meal for an hour or so, here’s ten pounds, why don’t you pop off to the local hostelry and get yourselves a beer”.

Bassbin and I have never been those that would turn down a free beer so we grabbed the money and ran.

Goodbin was driving and so we drank his share, and after about an hour and four pints, we tottered back to the hall where we discovered an open bottle of wine by the stage. I like wine…..especially red wine.

Darcy could hold off the inevitable no longer and we were introduced.

Now normally I am respectful of most situations and endeavour to perform accordingly. However, four pints of what ever, and half a bottle of wine had helped to dampen what common sense I had in those days and I went for it.

Amp on 10, yelling my head off into the microphone, I was having a great time.

The aging audience however were not.

Most of these dear souls had done nothing so strenuous and so quickly in many a good year as to a person, they rose from their seats and fled!!!

Quite literally, by the time we had reached the end of the first number we were playing to an almost empty hall. I say ‘almost’ as the single individual that remained was Darcy’s Dachshund called ‘Domingo who was going absolutely bonkers, he clearly hated the music as much as the audience did.

However, fuelled by falling down juice we were not perturbed and continued to play at our usual break neck speed. That was until the hall’s caretaker walked in and simply turned the lights out.

I promise you, you can’t make this stuff up.

Packing the kit up in the dark, Goodbin kept putting his head in his hands and I could distinctly hear him asking himself “what the hell am I doing here”.

I have only played at a British legion twice (the other time we got hijacked by an aging drummer who insisted on playing with us, and then insisted that we pay him….but that’s another story). However, I honestly don’t think that there will ever be a third.

They say never work with animals or children….I think Goodbin may have added a third to that list…..me!