The little red Padraig Post van swung back into Glasgow on Wednesday night peching and panting from lugging around all of the lion gear: giant violin (double bass) and giant syringe (folded high-hat stand) included. And us. It has lugged us around too. And it has suffered for it. Somewhere in the middle of England the engine started making this scary crunchy tractor-y noise. But we made it home. It made it home in all its scarlet glory.

A brief tour diary shall ensue. I say brief and I MEAN IT. I’ll try and curb the ramble.

Our first ever gig with the full line up was in Gourock. We snuck stealthily into the town under the cover of darkness and spent a bit of time down by the water looking at the stars and having a collective existential crisis. Then we read the article about us in the Greenock Telegraph which had a big picture of…me, with all the boys cropped out. Then we put the ‘gou’ into Gourock and played a pacey, sweaty set to which an extremely drunk man danced and then fell over dramatically. Then Sorren managed to charm some free Sambucca from the barman. I swear that boy has taken lessons in charm. Then we drove home blaring Paul Simon. We wish to return to Gourock to take a dip in the outdoor pool. Just maybe not in November.

Then we tootled off to Stirling on the Sunday night and I was a bit miffed because it meant missing Shakira on X Factor because she is my favourite (a-WOOO). But then it was nice because oor chums from Air3 Radio came down and watched us play. And then the guys met some German girls who were apparently giving them the proverbial eye. And then Sorren got a kiss from a very randy man. Sometimes charm backfires. And at midnight our SINGLE CAME OUT so we came back to Glasgow and had celebratory Sleazys drinks. Although that was just an excuse because we really wanted drinks for drinks’ sake.

And later that week we went to Edinburgh and had chips and I had salt ‘n’ sauce and it was nice enough and it made me wonder why everybody goes on about how amazing/horrible it is because I found it very neutral. I have concluded that all vinegar-based products can’t be bad. Although we have discovered that Ali HATES vinegar so now we know his weakness. Just waft some balsamic near him and he’s floored. But you could revive him with some Bourneville.

AND THE NEXT DAY we played at the Mill. I was ill the day of the Mill. So I took a few paracetamol and then I had a soothing Lemsip. And then I had heart palpitations because I had overdosed. And later I had more – unrelated - heart palpitations because I was so nervous about the Mill that I felt like I was going to vomit. SO MANY people came down to see us, which was amazing! I was scared in case everyone left after Washington Irving had played but they didn’t! I really couldn’t believe how busy it was. People kept hugging me after we’d played and I only hugged them back tentatively because I was so sweaty from the bright lights and the jigging about. Gads. I’m not really looking forward to seeing the footage because I think I’ll look like I was dunked in a vat of chip fat. After having eating a generous portion of it.

And the next day (after Nick and Sorren had finished their friendly boxing match) we got on the ferry to Dunoon! Fly me to Dunooooon and let me plaaaaaay among the stars. Or as the case was, let us play among the incredibly drunk people. Halfway through the set this massive burly Austrian guy handed me a glass full of cobalt blue liquid, so I took a teensy sip then passed it around the rest of the band. As I raised it to my lips all I could think was “ROHYPNOL HAS NO TASTE OR SMELL” but we definitely all stayed awake. At least I think we did. Because after the set the massive Austrian guy started doing these amazing card tricks, like not just silly ordinary magician malarkey but mind-boggling crazy card stunts. HOWEVER in retrospect we believe that the drink he gave us may have been hallucinogenic and we all had a kind of joint hallucination.

Ali’s friend Ricky very kindly let us stay at his flat, AND we got amazing fish suppers from his shop. Then we all got a bit giggly and were treated to a rendition of the Nick Roan Comedy Hour, or ‘Everybody Isn’t Really Preferential About Nick’. And Joe and I had a nice game of drunk darts. There was a bit of vomming off the side of the ferry on the way back though. Not mentioning any names. (Joe).

In Dundee we were all much better behaved. We met Joe’s Mum and Dad and sister and we had amazing noodles and we were smug about being Joe’s new band in front of people who were in some of Joe’s old bands.

And then we went to London! I really don’t know how people coped before sat-nav. By the way did you know that Wimpey still exists?!?! Well it does in service stations, which are a bit like an alternative universe actually…hmm. Anyway when we got to the big smoke we went on a wee jaunt to Camden before we had to sound check and Callum nearly got abducted by a girl wearing stripy knee socks and some kind of futuristic face paint. We played in this pub-venue place called the Slaughtered Lamb which has a sort of Captain’s Rest-y kind of vibe, but with big leather couches. We were supporting Sparrow and the Workshop and they were ridiculously cool of course what with their fabulous cowboy-horse-whip-noises and so on. I don’t think any of the Londoners really understood a word we were saying but I think they liked our general vibe because they clapped and made woo noises. Maybe they were just humouring us in a Su-Bo kind of way. Who knows. Anyway then I had a conversation with a guy which went as follows:

HIM: “Hi my name’s Daz”

ME: “Oh right, is that because you are really really clean?”

HIM: “No, it’s because I’m really dirty” *suggestive look*

ME: “Oh.”

Then the next day we went on another wee jaunt while Ali did schmoozing with industry types and we went to this faux-American diner place and had the most delicious milkshake I have ever had. It would barely sook up the straw. It was amazing. After that we drove home in our scarlet pimpernel. And that’s when the scary crunchy tractor noise started. And tour was over.

So our next gig is on 21^st December in Tut’s with Pearl and the Puppets and Brother Louis Collective. I think it’s going to be a smashing affair! And if you haven’t downloaded our single yet then please do! It will help us get back a tiny bit of petrol money that the Padraig Post van has gobbled up.

Hmm I didn't too well at curbing the ramble. I wish it was this easy to write all the essays I have due :s

Anna

xxx

Guitar shops freak me out a bit. I think it’s because I don’t actually know anything about guitars. Like cars. I don’t know anything about cars. But I can still drive one. Well, I can’t park it, but largely I can make it go in the right direction. And with guitars, I can’t play barre chords, but I can play about seven chords really well and I can use a capo excellently.

So guitar shops scare me because I could very easily be led to believe virtually anything they would care to tell me. Like this maybe:

Shop assistant: “...and this particular model was made by Smurfs in Prussia…”

Me (wearing a serious, frowny expression and nodding earnestly): “…mmm…right…Smurfs…lovely…”

But anyway I have been sneaking in and out of guitar shops recently to have a look at the Smurf-made delights, because it was my birthday this week, and my present is a new guitar. I did a trade-in thingy so the Trusty Takamine is no longer mine. Let’s have a little silence for Trusty…

…yeah that’s enough. Anyway now I have the most beautiful mahogany Martin. And a massive guitar-shaped dent in my overdraft. Sadly due to an incident involving a (very quaffable) bottle of Echo Falls, I lost my tunerfish. I marched into the guitar shop to buy that tunerfish last year, and announced to the assistant that I wanted a tutu tuner. He stared at me for a second and then asked if it was TU-2 I was after. Technically it was a TU-2, yes, but in my mind it is still a pink ballerina skirt.

Anyway I had to get a new tunerfish, and I got this amazing Korg thing that looks like it fell off Darth Vader. The more grown up choice I feel. And cheaper.

So it’s a whole new line up in terms of equipment. Which leads nicely into announcing the newest band members! In the absence of Nick and Joe, I have played a couple of gigs this summer with some special guests, like in Tchai-Ovna with Sorren Maclean, and Sneaky Pete’s with Callum and Blair Puppet. Those were awfy good fun, if rather under-rehearsed and whiskey-soaked gigs. It’s hard trying to communicate complex ideas such as “THE MIDDLE-EIGHT IS COMING UP AND IT’S MEANT TO BE QUIETER BUT NOT, LIKE, REALLY REALLY QUIET” when you are onstage and your mouth is busy singing and your hands are busy guitaring. Bulging eyes and a panicky expression usually does the trick though. Anyhow since then we have added Callum on the mandolin and Sorren on the guitar to the band. They are very busy boys so we’re not sure at the moment how often we will get to play together but when we are all together it sounds all noisy and boisterous and marvelous!

Ali has also been a busy bunny recently, getting everything all sorted for the SINGLE RELEASE (16^th of November amigos!) and our little tour. We have also enlisted the help of Vicki, who put on our first ever gig in Brel, way back in April. Ali and I have had to set up a record label to release our single on, and the name of the label is Dead Hip Records. (Both of us were disabled children.) I have been threatening to sign people to our label. Poi wants us to sign her as a mute interpretive dance act, much like Kate Bush’s video for Wuthering Heights but with someone playing the triangle instead of the singing. I could be tempted.

I hope you have been enjoying (or have noticed) the new recordings of the full band on the page. Glasgow PodcART have: www.glasgowpodcart.com. There’s loads of cool stuff on there!

We have been lying low for the last few weeks, getting everything organized for next month when we are playing a whole load of dates and putting the single out of course. The big pounce. We are also getting photos taken this week so you can see what we all look like properly. Just to preempt your disappointment, none of us are actually lions, or look like lions. Well, maybe a wee bit. My flat-mate Toni wants us to have a mascot kitten that lives in my guitar case who has his own hat that looks like a mane. But that will never work because I’m allergic to cats.

AND NOW IT’S TIME FOR MY DEVASTINGLY TRAGIC STORY ABOUT CATS:

For about three years when I was wee I begged my mother to let us have a pet cat. I knew all about them through this book I had about animal health. I even knew that you had to get pet insurance in case they got run over or swallowed a fish bone. My mother remained unmovable on the subject, so I eventually gave up. But one day I came home from school to see a cat bed sitting in the hall, and a scratching post thingy. It felt like Christmas but even better because it was a surprise. So we went to the cat shelter place and chose this beautiful black cat and took him home. About an hour later my face had puffed up horror movie style so that I could barely see out of my piggy, streaming eyes. Turns out I am horribly allergic to fur. So we had to give the cat back.

Fin

I don’t think I’ve ever really gotten over it. Goldfish aren’t cuddly. And we all know those hairless cats look like the pets of Satan.

Anyway get set for Noviembre! We will practice lots and lots to ensure we are. You can get FREE TICKETS for our Glasgow gig at the Mill (Oran Mor) on 19^th November by texting MILL44K to 82500 or visiting here: http:​/​/​www.​themill-​live.​com/​gigguide.​aspx

And on 21^st of December we are playing a very exciting gig in Tut’s with Pearl and the Puppets. Brother Louis Collective are on the bill too so we think Joe will have to have some kind of costume change between the two sets. Anyhow you can get tickets here: http://www.ticketmaster.co.uk/event/1700433895C256CD?artistid=967531&majorcatid=10001&minorcatid=1

Hasta la vista,

Anna

of

Kitty the Lion

xxx

‘Uniform: Ascending Height Order’ by Ellen De Faux.

So apparently if we didn’t use the sound denoted by the combination of the letters R, O, S and E to describe a particular kind of plant, it would still smell the same. It would still smell nice. It would still smell nice if it we mixed up the letters and called it an ORSE or even a SORE. So the letters R, O, S and E (in that order) and the consequential sound are just an arbitrary label attached to the object it describes in order to categorise it in our minds: in order to impose a sense of organisation onto the chaos that our senses encounter.

So what’s in a name? Well it’s a whole lot more than just a label really. I read that teachers are inclined to expect certain behavior from children with certain names. For example, girls named Chelsea and Crystal are apparently earmarked as troublemakers before their teacher’s eyes can dart from the register to the child herself.

I’m pretty sure it works the same with bands. A name speaks volumes. In fact, it sings right in your ear before the band even get a chance, detailing the rough age, genre and  quality of what you might be about to hear.

So I got a bit intimidated when it came to choosing a name for my freshly-formed band. It feels like naming a baby: something that’s just beginning, and you don’t really know what it’s going to turn out like. But hours (and days and weeks) of trying to come up with the perfect band name has led me to this final position that I currently hold: PULL YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ARSE, ANNA. IT’S JUST A NAME.

So we’ve settled on something. It’s made up of my great-grandmother’s name and a certain type of big cat.  Kitty the Lion.

So ‘I’ have become a ‘we’. Not in the royal manner obviously. Or the Geordie manner. Because Geordie people call themselves ‘us’ when they mean ‘me’, don’t they? Hmmm…anyway I digress. We (!) are re-launching with a new name in the next few weeks, the first gig with the new name being The Mill in November! That means that the URL for this page will change but I will keep everybody posted so you won’t lose us in the…post.

Well done for wading through this drivel. This is what the inside of my head looks like, only with more mentions of Gregg’s chicken bakes…

I hope you like the name change. You’re getting a few weeks to get used to it anyway!

Lots of love,

Kitty the Lion

(miaou)

(raar)

xxx

I have become an endangered species: I am the only remaining Meldrum.

Well, I am the only remaining Meldrum in my family. Actually, the only remaining Meldrum...out of me and my siblings...or just, sibLING. Because Big Sis got married at the weekend and is now Mrs. MacEwan! Wahey! The wedding was marvellous, although my arms are kind of sore from dancing with my cousin. He is four so dancing involved picking him up a lot. And doing Power Ranger poses.

Well apart from the obvious excitement of the nuptials, the last couple of months have also seen the excitement of the BAND LAUNCH! It did feature lots of the same people as the wedding though, being that the crowd were largely made up of my friends and family. The whole thing went as well as it could possibly have gone: there were no major hitches at all and the atmosphere was just great.  Everyone seemed genuinely happy to be there, and I noticed tappy feet and noddy heads, which I am of course a fan of.  It was the first time my name was the biggest on the poster, and the first time my songs had properly filled a room up. I got ridiculously wound up beforehand, and got that horrible feeling like how you feel  right before  an exam where you try to bring to mind any piece of information about the paper but all there is in your head is static noise. Well it felt like that, like all my songs had just been erased from my memory. But then when I got onstage they magically reappeared! And everyone else got to hear them too.

It felt really great to play to a packed Brel, all lit nicely with fairy-lights and wee smiley faces, having been practising in the underground caves of Lofi like a band of Gollums. I sort of couldn’t really tell if it was any good or not. But it seemed to go down really well. I don’t want to play by myself anymore! It sounds so thin and squeaky to me now!

I have to say thank you to Toni for buying me the best present EVER as a good luck gift for the gig: a tiny working HARMONICA necklace!! Twee instrument number three!! I am also going to take this opportunity to say thanks for Poi for lending me her shoes. She is far too generous. I totally take advantage of The Shop of Poi. But there is just such a lot of lovely stock...

So to go with the new band, we’ve been needing new recordings, which are currently being worked on with Callum in the most oddly shaped bedroom ever. We have, however, made a very lovely vocal booth in between eating things out of tins and recording the odd cover. You may have noticed me popping up in Jocasta Sleeps’ acoustic version of Baggy Needles on their page, sounding like a slightly creepy robot. Maybe I should stick with the ‘slightly creepy robot’ vibe...become a bit like La Roux. Yeah. Anyway keep yer eyes peeled for all new recordings soon.

Aside from eating rice pudding in the dark, I have also been involved in my big cousin Eilidh Mackenzie’s new album. She has written some beautiful songs inspired by the novel ‘Bel Canto’, and she kindly asked me to sing one of those songs on the record. I was very pleased and flattered and had a lovely time recording the song with some great musicians. It was actually really nice to only have to focus on vocals rather than guitar and whatnot: just a bit of a break from the norm. I can’t wait to hear the finished album, and I will keep you posted on where you can buy it etc.

At Easter time, Toni and I went on a wee jaunt up North, to Clashnessie, where we stayed in a freezing cottage and slept fully clothed under two duvets and a blanket each. There was scenery and fresh air and most importantly of all there was CREATIVE SPACE, so Toni knitted a cardigan and I wrote and recorded three songs, some of which are on the page now. Toni even did an awesome photograph for the cover of the little CD I made, which you can see in the ‘posters’ folder of my pictures.

So as an antidote to hiding myself away in the Highlands, I have also been doing a bit of broadcasting, at Stirling Uni student radio station and on Celtic Music Radio. I didn’t realise how much I mumble until I heard myself, and jings to hang: mumble-mumble-giggle-giggle. Mumble-Giggler should be my nom de plume. Anyway check out here: www.air3radio.com and here www.celticmusicradio.net.

And I’ve been written about in The List a couple of times recently thanks to Ryan. Here are links to the pages: http://www.list.co.uk/article/17089-exposure-anna-meldrum/ and http://www.list.co.uk/article/17837-anna-meldrum-brel-glasgow-sun-apr-26/. But here is the highlight: “there is something untouched and unique about Anna Meldrum, that will surely spread faster than swine flu”. Ah nice. Oink oink.

Oh and finally, you may remember my plea for votes in a previous blog for the 2008 Jock Rock poll. Well your voting definitely worked, because I came third overall, even managing to beat KT Tunstall and Amy MacDonald. Never thought I’d see the day! Click here for pudding proof: http://www.jockrock.org/jockrockpoll2008results.html.

Right well I’ve left you with plenty of things to click on and links to follow so CHEERIO from

The Last Meldrum

OR

Mumble-Giggler

xxx

P.S. but before I go, here are some pictures from my travels:

Here is a picture of me and the band post-Brel. Sadly you can’t see the Frankly Awesome T-shirt I bought to wear to the gig, which is the love of Frankly Awesome Jumper’s life. I think they are made for each other but they live on different shelves in my wardrobe so they can’t snuggle. It is a tad sad. But you can see it in the lovely photos that Matt Wilkes took which are in the ‘live’ folder. (You can also see the tiny harmonica!!)

Here is a picture of me playing at Cafe Bayan on Argyll Street. Sort of almost literally on the street...

It was fun because virtually everyone there is called Anna because they are all Russian.

Here is a picture of Toni’s and my feet in our CREATIVE SPACE in Clashnessie. In this instance our CREATIVE SPACE is a boat on the beach.

And in this instance our CREATIVE SPACE is a huuuge coach...or have we just shrunk...? You’ll never know.

And here is a picture of my amazing highland cow impression.

FIN

January was the month of the Duke. Ali manager man became Ali the chauffeur man and kindly drove me to Gateshead in wee Rolf Yaris to play as Duke Special’s support in the Sage. This was to be my first gig in England! A Scottish support for an Irish act in England: does sound a bit like the premise of a certain kind of joke. Anyway, the Sage is amazing: a bit like the Armadillo building but bigger and newer and posher, with a gorgeous view out over the river, and the streetlamps all reflected in the water. We were playing in the small auditorium, and it was stunning: a ten-sided room made out of lovely smooth dark wood, with the stage kind of protruding into the middle a bit like Shakespeare’s Globe. Duke Special’s stage setup looked great as well, what with the piano and the record player with the vinyls strewn around it, not to mention Chip Bailey’s fabulous assortment of percussive accoutrements. And Duke Special himself is also pretty great; I think he officially wins the ‘Nicest Man in the World’ award 2009. In the Anna Approval Awards. Haha.

I wondered how my accent would go down with a non-Scottish audience, but they turned out to be the most attentive audience I’ve ever had. Attentive almost in the manner of well-behaved children at a school assembly. I walked onstage to a terrifying deathly silence, and was met with a polite applause. This disconcerted me a bit, because in the gigs I play I usually have to earn approval before anyone claps. Or listens, for that matter. So I just took the applause to approval of my outfit, hehe.

Then the next week I supported Mr. Special again in Edinburgh. The crowd was less well-behaved but probably just as attentive. It was a lovely gig, and it was lovely to meet Duke Special and have someone whose music I really like be as encouraging as he was. For the encore, he leapt off the stage through the crowd and began playing a piano planted in amongst the audience, and he asked me to stand and sing along with him. I was chuffed as the proverbial badger. I bet you could see it all over my smug wee face!

The next gig I played after that was at Tut’s, and it was good fun, as I had expected. And after that I played at the CCA, where they projected a massive photo of me on the building outside. Despite hovering about staring at it gormlessly for about five minutes, no passers-by seemed to equate the picture with the gawking girl underneath. Luckily.

And the next day Ali and I were back on the road, on our way to Mull to support Sorren Maclean, in Tobermory which is where Balamory is filmed!! My little cousins would have been so excited. But probably not as excited as I was. It was a mega novelty going to a gig by BOAT. And I liked what we found when we got there. I spotted a few pretty impressive jumpers: Fair Isle knit and the like. I must get me one of those. The scenery is absolutely stunning too. Driving through mountains sprinkled with icing-sugar snow made me feel all patriotic and burst into ‘O Flower of Scotland’.

The whole night had a fantastic community atmosphere, and everyone was so friendly and hospitable that I genuinely didn’t want to leave. I think I might fit in quite well up there, although I’ll need to get the hang of dressing weather-appropriately first: a cardigan just won’t cut it. Anyway I’m just going to take this opportunity to say a big THANK YOU to Sorren and Gordon for making our wee trip so much fun.

And I may not have got a jumper, but I did get a TINY ACCORDIAN!! I managed to persuade Ali to use money from the kitty (miaow) to buy the tiny accordion on the basis that I need another twee instrument to add to me collection (which consists of…a glockenspiel), so we bought it and…a KAZOO!! Life really doesn’t get much better.

Ok now it’s time for ANNANOUNCEMENT (that’s an announcement from an Anna). I have now (finally) got myself a band! Joe on double bass and Nick on drums. So this is the beginning of a brand new era in my singy-songwritingy life. I am very excited at the prospect of this new age. Look out for the band at future gigs, starting from April 26^th in Brel. See, told you March was a shake of the snow-globe! I’m all shook up.

Here are some ridiculous pictures from Mull:

Ferry excitement.


Accordion excitement.


Maclean and Meldrum duet.


Gig Aftermath feat. Frankly Awesome Jumper.

Get yer jumpers on: let’s go and play in the snow!

Anna

xxx

Miss Anna Meldrum (journalist) reporting for duty.

THAT IS NOT A LIE: I REALLY AM A BONAFIDE JOURNALIST THESE DAYS!

Well since my last blog some exciting developments have occurred, and I have written a column that's been printed in the Sunday Herald newspaper, along with a photo (in which I'm doing a kind of 'yeah right' face) and a caption that names me as "Anna Meldrum, singer-songwriter". I used to wonder when I could officially call myself a 'singer-songwriter', and not feel like I was just pretending to be one, like a wee girl dressing up. But seeing it in print made it seem oddly official: like it's not pretend at all; like it's a big part of my identity.

Anyway I'm hopefully going to be writing that column monthly for the next wee while, so keep your eyes peeled! A major part of me getting the opportunity to write it at all is due to this blog here on Myspace! So that's nice.

And I have some new photos which were taken down Mitchell Lane and involve umbrollies and brogues and tinfoil puddles. Lovely stuff.

Aside from my journalistic endeavours, I've been quite a busy bunny this summer, doing lots of gigs. In the middle of July, there was my second attempt at a King Tut's gig, and I was crossing my fingers and praying there were no leaky toilet incidents like the first time, and luckily (or fatefully depending on how you look at it) the toilets stayed dry, and the audience stayed in the building. And that was the first outing for my little flock of handmade origami birdies who helpfully remind people of my Myspace address, and every single one of them flew the nest to a new home. I like the thought of them scattered across the city, chirruping the dot com slash. That gig was also good because my Mum bought me a new dress for the occasion. Mainly because after looking in my wardrobe she kind of went "right…well you can't wear that really, eh?" So new dress it was. I knew I was in this business for something!

And in addition to the usual gigs, I have of course done my FESTIVAL rounds! It turned out that the two festivals that I was playing at were over the same weekend. How inconvenient! So it was a seriously jet-setty weekend of being driven around and eating picnics in the car.

So on Saturday morning me and Paw drove through to Retrofest (the picnic that day consisting of grapes and tikka chicken) and squelched about in the mud and drank the rider (beer of course, which I drank only because I felt I'd earned it and should therefore consume it) and then I went onstage to a packed crowd of…my Dad and two of his friends! Yes a whole three people had turned out to see me! But as the set went on more and more people began to gather around, and by the last few numbers I had a big chirpy crowd. The even more astonishing bit is that the crowd chanted me for an encore. To which I haltingly replied: "ehhh…well I've played all my good ones…". But someone in the front row belted out "play the one you did last year, darling" and for a horrible second I thought they meant the infamous nursery rhyme incident. But then I realised they meant my song that I'd played. They remembered it from last year! And fondly! So I crashed through Pin the Tail on the Donkey again, to a rip-roaring round of applause. Highly satisfactory.

The only gutter was that the one act I wanted to see, Peter Andre, was on the main stage at the same time as I was on the little future acts stage. I was mega gutted about that, missing the opportunity to see the only act whose name I actually recognised. Humph.

So there was time for what felt like a short snooze and then up the next morning to Inveraray (the picnic that day consisting of smoky bacon flavour sausages and my sister's leftover birthday cake). Connect Festival brought new meaning to the phrase 'mud bath' for me. Sheesh. We got totally soaked in the peeing rain of course, and I got a bit on the grumpy side of things because my hair got all wet and went stupid and curly, PLUS I thought that the rain would mean even less people would bother watching my set. Plus PLUS my wee birdies had got soaked too and looked all soggy and pathetic, emitting a couple of half-hearted 'cheep's every now and again in protest at being subjected to this appalling weather. Oh and plus plus PLUS a flipping pipe band struck up just before I started to play. But then, wading out of the surrounding mud like something out of Lord of the Rings, came a small army of supporters who watched my set attentively and even seemed to enjoy it. And I thought the sun had even started to shine…but it was just the stage lights. But anyway things definitely brightened up as I began to play, and I had a lovely time in the end. And the birdies all flew off gratefully to new owners. Which meant I had the rest of the day to don the fashion crime that is the poncho and just enjoy the buzz of the festival. The whole thing kind of felt like the Glasgow had just been transferred temporarily to a field, because there were so many familiar faces in the crowds and in the bands performing.

So this summer has been brollies and wellies and paper birdies and ponchos and articles and encores. And if you have one of the birdies, look after them. Give them a name and some snacks.

Until next time,

The Meldrum

xxx

The time has come around again when I write lots of waffly nonsense and then post it on the internet and expect people to read it. Actually, my Granny told me she was fed up of checking to see if I'd updated my blog and being disappointed, so at least I know I have one reader

Back in March I played a gig in a packed Butterfly and Pig (which I affectionately nickname 'The Butt') on St. Patrick's night, and inkeeping with the Irish theme I played a cover of a lovely traditional Irish tune: C'est La Vie by B*witched. Ooo I do like the asterisk in the name now that I've written it down…maybe I should be *nn*…? Hmm nah. It was a bit disconcerting to realise that lyrics I would happily sing along to as a child are actually packed with innuendo. Ah well, nothing wrong with a bit of innuendo. So also inkeeping with the celebrations that night, my Irish friends taught me some Irish, which I butchered onstage. I WISH I could speak another language properly! But actually my tiny, limited knowledge has since become handy for impressing drunken Irishmen. Which is always a bonus.

I've been back in the Classic Grand as well, and on the theme of innuendo and such, I found out that it used to be a cinema which showed dirty films! Gives the whole place a different feel with that in mind…

I've been back in lots of places I lurve in the last couple of months: hanging with the hippies in Tchai Ovna with the legendary Alison and her Mings, although I had something in my eye and spent the entire set looking like a I was winking and leering at people; and NicenSleazy where they ALWAYS ID me, so this time I made the bouncer look at my name on the poster JUST TO CLARIFY that I'm legally allowed in. It worked.

And I've played in some new places too, like the SNO!zone bar in Xscape. It was so bizarre being in a pretend log cabin thingy and being able to see a massive big ski slope out the window. With wee skiing folk popping in and out of view in the corner of my eye: mildly off-putting. And I got paid in skiing lessons for that gig! Which is good for a few reasons, firstly because I hardly ever get paid anyway apart from in beer (which I just don't like because I think it tastes like mould), and secondly because I've never been skiing before and it's the summertime so that's just a bit of novelty on the whole.

But anyway, the really big deal gig has of course been my support slot with Amy MacDonald! Which will hopefully once-and-for-all kill the rumours that I am actually her. Haha. It was in a castle courtyard, which was fairly strange but in a good, kind of surreal - if a little Monty Python and the Holy Grail - kind of a way. The whole thing was incredibly slick and professional. Obviously. Since it was professional. But again, it was really surreal, because seeing someone you've only ever seen photos of or seen on the telly is so bizarre. And a bit intimidating, and I felt like a total pretend musician, a wee Amy impersonator, haha. But if anything, I'm going to stick in with my music just for the riders. I could definitely be tempted into divadom, requesting that all the brown M&Ms be removed and the like. And NO BEER.

And although I felt like I was going to vomit on the front row, I played pretty well, and the crowd were absolutely lovely. So it looks like my high-profile curse has been magically lifted! Perhaps the fairy castle setting helped.

But the best part about the whole Amy MacDonald thing is that I get to brag about it. For example, last night I got into a taxi with my guitar and the taxi driver was all "were you singing tonight, love?" and said I had been and he asked me where else I played so I said "well ACTUALLY I supported Amy MacDonald the other week" and he was like "oh aye RIGHT" and I was like "no, really". And then I told him to buy my song from iTunes, so he took down a note of my name and the name of my song. By now he's probably discovered that I'm not a crazy liar after all. Satisfaction.

Anyway, my very latest news is that I have been picked out of all the acts featured at this term's YourSound to play at the Hydro Connect festival in August! Which is at another fairy castle place! So there I was at Tut's avec my pal, and it was the same story as last time with all the Indie-boys and blah blah blah, but then they announced my name as one of the winners and I almost choked on my vod and died. Slight twist from the last time. Anyway I got such a shock that I very professionally burst out laughing in disbelief. Ever professional, that's me. I'm unbearably smug at being chosen and very excited.

OH and i forgot to mention last month's airplay - Marigolds was played on BBC radio! HOWEVER, it was on Gaelic radio, so to me it sounded like this: "blahblahblahblahannameldrumblahblahblahblahmarigoldsblahblah". And then they played the song. So they really could have said anything about it, like "this is the most terrible song we have ever heard" or "turn your radios off immediately", but according to my Gaelic-speaking relatives, what they did say was that I am Fiona Mackenzie's wee cousin. Fiona has just released a lovely album which is partially sung in Gaelic so obviously Gaelic radio love her, and I am now happily sponging off her success, heehee!

Listen to Fiona's stuff here: www.myspace.com/fionamackenziemusic

She's also in my top friends.

So, I think that's all the news I have. Ooo apart from to announce the birth of a new era in my technological life, with the arrival of a new tunafish! I am aware that I have previously mentioned the arrival of a new tuna in my blog but this is a new NEW tuna which is a stampy pedal thingy with a mute capacity so it's all very exciting. He'll be sharing the stage with me from now on so keep your eyes peeled, he's a cutie.

END OF WAFFLE…for now.

xxx

'Tis the season to be jolly, so it's definitely time for a blog update! On Tuesday night I played my THIRTHIETH gig since the first one in April (that's about one a week), and it was in the legendary King Tut's, my favourite venue EVER! I've seen lots of people I adore play in there: Missy Higgins, Ben Lee, Matt Costa and Kate Nash among them. Walking up the stairs just reminded me of being sixteen and terrified of getting rumbled for being an under-ager, and almost peeing myself when the bouncer grabbed my arm and went: "excuse me love..." and my brain screaming: "I'VE BEEN RUMBLED!" and then the bouncer saying: "no glasses in the auditorium". Phew. So it was such a buzz just to see my name in chalk on the door.

I've been getting gigs further afield than the West End so I've been having to use public transport rather more often than I did before. I want to take this opportunity to publicly and officially apologise to any bus/subway users that my naughty wee Takamine has caused an obstruction to. It does tend to take up a seat of its own, unfortunately. Maybe I should copy the musicians who play on the Paris metro, like on the actual train, so when the doors open the sound comes wafting out unexpectedly. But maybe it wouldn't be appreciated quite so much in Glasgow! Anyway, I'd have to get one of those little amps that run off…actually what do they run off?! They don't plug in anywhere so maybe its hamsters in wheels. Ah, or batteries. Yep.

So Tuesday night was actually the SECOND time I'd been in King Tut's last week, because I was there for this month's YourSound, too (that's the unsigned networking thing). It was quite fun and chilled, lots of hanging around and chatting and getting drinks bought for me: the luxurious life, heehee. There were lots and lots of cool Indie-boys there and…me. All wearing very fetching name tags, of course, which obviously added to the cool-factor(!).

But anyway, Tuesday night. WELL. If you've read my previous blog about Retrofest you'll remember me saying that I couldn't really imagine much more going wrong at a gig. WELL, you might notice a pattern emerging. It seems that fiasco follows me around; fandango is in my footsteps, because the very next vaguely high-profile thing that I've done became a mighty palaver! I was first on the bill and everything went swimmingly to begin with, we hung out a bit with the other guys in the magic purple dressing room which had lots of mugs and teabags and a kettle – excellent. And then I played my set and it went really well because the sound guy is ace, plus I had my wee bunch of fans who were equally impressive, although my Mum dissuaded my Granny from coming: gutted. BUT THEN the dramatic bit happened: the lights flickered on and the manager made an announcement that the downstairs of the venue had flooded and the whole place had to be immediately evacuated up the windy stairs and through the back door! WHAAAT?! Yeah, you heard. Apparently it had happened before when The Cribs were playing. Anyway, we all had to leave and the other two acts didn't get to play. ANTI-CLIMAX!! So by default, I headlined! Hahaha. I was so glad that I was on first after that!

So sorry to the other guys for having what is probably my bad luck ruin the show! Now I've got my support slot at the Classic Grand to look forward to, and hopefully my high-profile curse won't rear its ugly head! And the diva guitar had better behave itself, too, even though it's been bashed around on buses a bit. But before that, it's CHRISTMAS!! (I hope you've been enjoyed my download-related Christmas present to you!) So ho-ho-ho and merry Christmas, chums!!

Lots of festive love,

Anna the Gig-Wrecker (official title)

xx

P.S. – Oh before I go, I thought I'd have a mini-moan about the fact that 'Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree' is on the Christmas Magner's advert. Here's me thinking I was dead original, humph. Never mind, it'll all be over by January.

P.P.S. - There's BRAND NEW SONGS up on the site now, thanks to Jamie Duffin and a student grant! Hooray for free money!