An Interview with Jockey Chang  part 2

Tonight’s gig was at King Tut’s in Glasgow. 

King Tut's throughout its twelve-year history has been host to bands including Radiohead, Blur, Travis, Pulp and The Verve before they reached the heights of music superstardom. It also hosted the first Scottish gigs for Beck, Crowded House and The Strokes, and created a piece of rock and roll history as the venue where Oasis were first spotted and signed in 1993!  Pulp, Suede, Gomez, Barenaked Ladies, Catatonia, Beck, Ash, Supergrass, the Charlatans, Deacon Blue, Rae & Christian and Mercury Rev have also rocked King Tut’s stage, it’s a legendary place to play in Scotland!

“Let’s Go”. We said for the umteinth time

We left for King Tut’s ahead of schedule as I wanted to go busking for beer money and Moony wanted to go for a brief walk in the highlands, we did neither!

What we did find along the way was Hadrian’s Wall, a wonderful piece of history built by the Roman Empire dating back to 122AD during the reign of the Roman Emperor Hadrian.  They used stone and earth to build this amazing divide between England and Scotland. It stretched across the entire width of Northern England. The wall was 117 kilometres long and took 6 years to build!  Unfortunately now there is little left of what was once a monumental wall, though you can still see the remains as you drive across northern England on certain routes. 

Check out the Hadrian’s Wall heritage sights online for more information. 

“Wow look at that” someone chirped with glee.

“That is so beautiful” Someone chirped back.

“We gotta stop there” we all chirped in agreement.

10 seconds later just over the bridge… “Yeah man, look there’s a coffee shop”

“Wicked I need some more warm food to get rid of this hangover” I pointed out.

“I’ve made us sandwiches and we’ve got crisps” Moons said in a pleased manner.

“Wicked, I gotta get something warm too”.

We had just crossed over a single track bridge going over a breathtaking scene.  A beautiful river ran below the bridge with natural carved hinges in the river bed.  There were small tussles of water fighting over narrowing edges creating calm mini rapids.  The river probably touched on 90ft wide.  On one side was a belt of well aged trees in full splendour.  On the other were green lands, the type you’d find cattle roaming.  We parked up in a coffee shop and nipped in.

“2 egg rolls and tea please” asked Rich.

The shop was quaint, so was the waitress frying our eggs. 

We left the car at the coffee shop and walked back over the bridge to get to the field side of the river.  ‘Private Property’ signs met us just at the top of a rambling track. 

I climbed over the fence heading towards the river with a little hesitation feeling I could be walking into a bull’s back garden and he could have been waiting for years for me to cross that fence.  Dismissal of signs often occurs when such beauty is so close to touch; is ignorance acceptable when it means touching Mother Nature’s fruits, I don’t know and to be honest, we didn’t care. 

I was ahead of the boys by twenty or so strides, I was first over the fence and got a third of the way to the river when I heard it…

“MMMOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!”

My heart froze.  Do I run forward and jump in the river to avoid the Bull that’s close behind me, I dared not to turn and face my enemy.  As I jumped in the air with surprise I made sure it was in the direction of the river and as my foot hit the ground I sprinted forward, my heart was going ten to the dozen, I had instant sweat beads, how could I get out of this? As I leapt forward I turned my head, eyes wide with anticipation…..

“YOU TWATS!” I shouted

Jimmy D and Benny T were laughing hard.

Jimmy D was the bull.

“That’s not funny dude I nearly jumped in the river”

They laughed harder.  After several minutes my heart rate dropped to normal and we were sat down dipping our feet and eating snacks.  Half an hour and an expired camera later and we were off back to the car.  Its Glasgow all the way now, King Tut’s here we come!

You never know what you’re going to find at legendary venues.  By this I mean you hear of the most famous places where all the greats have played through the years of popular music and you build mental images of the largest most spectacular stage in the world, it’s not like that in this game.

My first ever London gig was with my first band called The Weakend.  From months and months of building contact lists of venues, promoters and record company contacts we finally got a date to play at a venue in Islington, The Hope & Anchor, through Bugbear Promotions (Tel: 0207 7000550).  This was such a big moment for The Weakend as we were leaving the comforts of rehearsing in our living rooms and kitchens cheering “thank you Wembley” to each other as we finished each song, to now taking our music to the world, to London, and to the city you need to play if you’re gonna make it in music. We thought that then, some will tell you it’s true now. 

I’d read that the Hope & Anchor was very famous in the mid seventies as one of the must punk/rock venues to play, a few of the bands you’ll probably recognise that played the stage are The Police, Elvis Costello, The Stranglers, Madness, U2, The Cure, Joy Division and Ash.  The Weakend arrived all nervous but very excited and from what I remember Damo (our guitarist) had man flu.  We parked outside on the loading bay and went into the pub. 

It was a small pub on the corner of the high street, it looked smaller than expected but ce la vie.  We were soon informed that the venue was downstairs, that’s more like it, the famous amazing venue was just down these twenty something stairs.

It couldn’t have been further from what I thought a legendary venue would be. 

The room was about twenty feet wide on entrance and maybe triple the length.  It was dark lit with an equipment room’s walls laden with graffiti.  In the small main room was the world’s smallest stage in the corner which I doubted if even my drum kit would fit, and the place absolutely stunk of stale beer…  I loved it.  It’s hard to note why this place felt a bit spesh but I felt a little magic down there in this hole of a venue.  Maybe it was knowing it’s a reputable place to play, a place where A n R would go and sit and drink listening to bands they were tipped as potentials for a cash boost to get them on the ‘full time rock tour’, or maybe it’s knowing great musicians and co have walked on the same floors and racked up on the same bit of side wall.  I could speculate till the cows come home, it was what it was, and it still is what it is. If you want to play The Hope & Anchor ring Bugbear (Tel: 0207 7000550), Marrianna is very helpful. 

King Tut’s were very welcoming.

A table was arranged with fresh bread and menus for us. Upstairs was the backstage room with a fridge full of beers, water, juice, ginger beer and pepsi, there was also a shower, t.v. coffee machine, sofas and a table. 

Hamfatter were engulfed in poker.  I was engulfed in pockets full of beer, soon to be engulfed in a soup starter followed by a vegetarian pasta dish which, for five minutes of my life, rocked my world. 

Then we played – the gig sounded good. 

I was outside rolling up and a woman came and stood next to me and asked me for a light.

“Got a light?” she asked me.

“Yeah” I answered.

I gave her one. 

She hung in the spot for a few moments I could sense she was looking for some conversation from me.  I didn’t have any, I just wanted my roll up.  Then my lips farted.

“Do you come here often”.

It’s a bit of a shitter but I didn’t care I had no interest in flirting for a dip in her knickers.  Once the conversation started between us she kept looking at me like I was answering in a different language.  I stopped speaking, I couldn’t be arsed to feel like a twat for having crap convo.  Half an hour later and I’ve grabbed the last beer from tall fridge in the band room and sat down.  Outside the venue was a big sign mounted on the front wall with King Tut’s wah wah proudly protruding.  Opaque were all out front, we had a couple of band photo’s taken compliments of Rich Hill.  Some time later Mark steamed out front looking pissed off.

“You alright dude?” I asked.

He kinda shook his head in an, I’m not that fussed about speaking right now, kinda way.

“What’s the matter mate”

 “I’m pissed off”

I could tell.

“Why what happened”

“I’ll be alright”

He was soon on the phone to someone, I smoked my fag.  Our paths crossed ten minutes later, Mark was smiling, good. 

After the shows we hung around for a while then packed the van for our next dwelling for the eve.  We were staying in Edingburgh tonight at Jimbo and his partner Abbeys house about an hour away. Jimbo is a Scottish dude, he does well to live in Edingburgh and play with the boys based in Cambridge.  I like his style. 

Due to space restrictions back at their house the group was split into two, half of the group went to Jimbo’s and Me, Arms, Rainbow, Jimmy D, Benny T and Rich Hill went to a spare flat which was being viewed at 10 or 11 the next morning so we were politely asked not to fuck it up!  ASIF we’d do anything like that.  The first floor flat was quite spacious, It looked quite new and still had a t.v. and video unit in it as well as some shopping in a bag in the kitchen and a set of golf clubs next to the window in the living room.  From the window were views of Street lamps, a road and some other flat blocks.  It felt good here.  Moony, Rich Hill and Arms shot-gunned the bedroom and we were rulers of the kingdom of the living room.  I was agitated and in serious need of some physical and mental stimulation, I paced wondering what there was I could do, fighting the boys wasn’t an option as one of us normally ends up with a body part not working quite as well as it did before, and we need our limbs for the next few days at least, so what could appease my edge.  Within minutes I was playing ‘try to get the toilet roll onto the office chair with a nine iron’ game.  Rich Hill joined in with his Handicap of 11.  We couldn’t do it, mainly due to the fact that there was 6 feet between us and the office chair, and the jejectory required was hard to obtain from the force required for distance. Hitting a toilet roll off the ground with a 9 iron to make it sit just 6 feet away on a chair is a mean feat.  I took a few tips on my Driver swing, it wasn’t long before the boys convinced me that swinging a huge golf club at 80 miles an hour in a flat was a bad idea.  After a moments thought I couldn’t disagree.  Me and T-bag nipped out for a swift smoke before getting our heads down.

There is a phase between sleep and awake, sometimes it is very hard to differentiate between dream and reality.  I was in this half way house when I heard it;

‘wwwhhhhhhhgooooooooooom, bbbrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr’

“What the fuck is that?” I said out loud

The room was very dark.  I could barely see my hands in front of my face. Rainbow Jo was also woken.

“I don’t know it just started it might be the‘Tele’ or something”

The t.v. was off but underneath it was what appeared to be a digital recorder type devise.

“Is it that thing” Jo inquisantly caughed.

“yeah probably” I inquisantly answered

We pushed lots of buttons in a typical male fix it fashion but the sound kept whirling.

“The plug” I said

“I’ll get it” Said Jo

“Can you see it”

“Uurrgh, yeah got it”  pop.

[SILENCE]

“aaarrggh, good shot” I commended his fumbling skills.

“Night man”

“Night”

We slept.

The morning sun shone through the window, we had half an hour to restore the flat and get the fuck out.  I could imagine it, an estate agent man in a suit with a clip board coming to show a new couple to one of their ‘prestige flats in a wonderful location in the city’, as the door opens they see a floor full of beer cans, and stinking guys in a fart cloud stretched all over the floor making grunting sounds whilst wheezing in their sleep. SOLD!

Jimbo came round and took us back to his home to wake up with the other half of our party.  The place was really nice.  Abbey and Jimbo made Vegetarian Sausage Baps, Eggs, Toast and Tea for the clan, it was proper lush, it was a welcomed surprise to have had good warm breakfasts each day so far, we were living like kings and I felt it.  There was none of the ‘eat breakfast while you shop’ antics that I’ve so often had to embrace.  

The sun was shining we had been blessed with yet another gorgeous day to fulfil.  I noticed above the sink there was a china plaque 12” x 12” approx.  It was a ‘my first prints’ of their little son’s hands and feet, he is just over a year old. 

We all ate and talked, drunk tea and scratched our heads. 

Jack entered the living room with;

“Has anyone got a needle and thread?”

I had a look in my bag, I’d bought some specifically to sew my button back on my shorts, since then the needles had vanished.

“What’s it for?” I asked.

Jack turned around and bent over, slightly cocking his left leg.

“ooow” i laughed.

He had a massive whole in his ass.  The seam on Jacks Jeans it seems couldn’t hack the pace, the jean company obviously hadn’t catered for the power of Jack’s trumpet. 

“I have a couple of spare pairs if there any good to you”. I said.

Like a Debenham’s show boy I displayed Jacks options from my holdall. 

“There’s these, or a pair of shorts I’ve already worn, or these jeans?”
The jeans were very new.

“Are you sure that it’s ok to borrow a pair?”

“Of coarse dude your jeans are fucked, any of them is fine I have a few pairs”

“I’d probably say the jeans if that’s ok” favoured Jack

“Here, no worries”

“Thanks, I’ll sort you them out on Saturday” he smiled (Saturday is the last date of the tour)

“Cool”.

Jack is about a foot shorter than me, the jeans just about fit with a belt and the legs rolled up. 

I went and smoked a fag on the top of the concrete stairs outside the front door, the stairs led down to a little alley where about twenty other houses stairs met.  Just 10 feet from the alley was the side road.  I finished my burn and went back inside and hung out in the kitchen, Eoin had just woken. He was well pissed last night.  I drove back in the van with the Hamfatter crew, one minute Eoin was sat next to me in the front, the next thing I saw was his knees fly by me as he dove in the back of the van crowd surfing the knees of the front row rear passengers.  I didn’t know what was going on I was swaying more than the van but it sounded fun. 

Eoin woke up with smiles despite being a one man brewery the night before.  I made him an egg roll, without butter, and a cup of black coffee to kick start his day.  He was quite quiet through a lot of our week together.  I take him as a thinker, always thinking about what’s going on and the next thing he’ll be doing. 

Just after breakfast at Jimbo’s something bad happened;

I’m minding my own business staring in the kettle/frying pan direction when

[SSSSSSSSMMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

My shoulders raised, your body goes into that strange position sometimes with a loud noise, your shoulders head up towards your ears and your arms come up into the Michael Jackson ‘Thriller’ position.  Speaking of Arms he was also in the room near the door and Joe had his hands in the sink washing a few plates.  I spun on the spot and looked down.  The horror hit me, it was the ‘my first prints’ plaque.  My hands cupped my mouth and my eyes stretched just like in the films as I let out an “oooooooh ssshhhhhiiiiitt” in a whisper.

Joe turned around he thought a plate had fallen off of the side board.  Arms new what it was. 

“oh my god, oh fuck” I whispered

I was gutted but poor Arms stomach must have been in the flat below and his heart in the flat above.  The plaque that had smashed once sat upon two nails loosely hammered into the wooden architrave beside the kitchen window.  Arms noticed the angle of the nails was only slightly above the 45 degree angle required to hold a plaque against a wall.  He pushed the nail in a bit more with his fingers for a better angle and tighter fixing.  As he turned and walked away the nail dropped below 45 degrees, and plaque had a swift introduction to floor.  It smashed into pieces.  If you’ve ever had kids you’ll know that things like kids first prints are priceless, even if you haven’t had kids you’re probably aware of the sentimental value something like that holds as they are true ‘one-offs’ and are made from the stuff most and closest in ones heart.  Not that this was a time to lay guilt on poor Arms, to be honest it was probably due to fall sometime soon anyway.  I was amazed it had stayed up there for that long, any way, what how when where and why were not the issues before us, the issue was how the fuck do we tell Abbey and Jimbo we’d smashed their priceless plaque? 

I thought Jimbo would be gutted, but I thought it was going to really upset Abbey, I was sad even thinking about her seeing it.  Arms took the notion to go and call Jimbo into the kitchen with the classic…

“urgh Jimbo, can I have a word?”

“yeh sure”

Jimbo looked a bit curious, his eyes told the story. 

I was waiting for a few of us to be swiftly evicted through the kitchen window, thankfully Jimbo kept his cool.

“I think we can stick it together” said Arms

Fortunately each foot and hand had smashed into its own section, not in their entirety but it was possibly the best smash that could have happened.  Jimbo went and got Abbey, the mum of the young artist. 

I needn’t tell you she was gutted, Arms explained why and how it happened and also that is was salvageable due to the good nature of the smash.  Joe stood there quietly at the sink, sensibly. 

This took me back to a similar thing that happened years ago.  As teenagers a group of us were round my friend Damon’s house in Orton Malborne in Peterborough.  Damon used to do freestyle karate and had the pads so we used to spar, it was all good fun.  One day we were in his living room, it was me verses Hick, we could only find one pair of boxing mitts so I took the left hand and he took the right. 

Jab, jab, dodge…………SMASH!
”Of fuck in hell dude look what you did” someone shouted at Hick

“It wasn’t me” Hick said

“It wasn’t me” I said

“You knocked it with your shoulder” I said to Hick

“You hit me towards it” He said back

On the floor lay what once was an ornamental plate that faced the room from the shelf.

“Where can we get one of these from Damon?” I was hoping he could say “ah we’ve got three, the others are just in that drawer” but of coarse there were no spares.

“Dunno, maybe a magazine, I’m not sure” replied Damon.

We picked up the pieces.  Damon’s dad was a cool cat, Over the years he’s been nicknamed different things but my favourite was Dave ‘The Pen’ Macdonald, he likes to write.  Under the advice of Damon we thought it best to not say anything and see if ‘The Pen’ noticed. 

He noticed. 

“Where’s that ornamental plate Damon?” asked Dave.

“What plate” said Damon

“The one on that shelf” served Dave
”I don’t know what your talking about dad”

“Well it can’t just disappear”

I was a sucker for the truth as a child, a few times things had been broken round at Damon’s and I would buckle in no time and part with the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, well, something like that. 

Once upon a time we fought over who was going to use the downstairs toilet first, instead of offering it each other we ended up in a full scale wrestling match in this down scale ring.  Damon had secured him self with his arse on the sink, one foot on my back and the other doing twirls, I was facing the door pushing back with every last bit of might I had to try to secure my place on the toilet.

“wwhhhump”

“Wait Gav”

“WHOOOOMMP”

“SHIT”

Water started gushing out from behind the sink. 

“What shall we do?” we both stared clueless.

“Ask the neighbours, they’ll know”

We were two schoolboys with an elemental knowledge of domestic plumbing and in a new situation such as this, we were fit for nothing but bad language and knocking for help.  It was a good five minutes before the main inlet tap was turned off by which time the downstairs hallway was flooded as was the kitchen slightly, thankfully they had kitchen tiles.  We borrowed a VAX machine from the neighbour, we planned to soak up the water from the floors and carpet, put the carpet outside to dry and put it back to rights before Barbara came home.  Barbara, Damon’s mum, was such a beautiful woman, so lovely, but if she caught wind of this we thought we’d get a proper bollocking.  We couldn’t dry the carpet in time but we drained the excess water out of it and laid it back in the hallway, and we couldn’t fix the sink either so we had only one option.  Fib. 

Before Barbara could ask we came out with it.

“I was just washing my hands and the sink fell off the wall” Damon presented with sincerity.

I still laugh now when I think about it. 

“Fell off the wall?”

“Yeh I’d just been to the toilet and as I was washing my hands I turned the tap on and the sink fell off the wall and water started spraying everywhere” said Damon

“Gavin what happened”

“mm what he said, yeh”

“Ok we’ll ring the council and ask if they’ll come and fix it”

They came the same day as the house was without water, Damon and I were stood in the doorway watching the man fix the sink thinking ‘fuck we got out of this one by the skin of our teeth’. 

“Blimey, you must have been jumping on this to pull this off the wall like this” said the intrigued plumber.

We both looked at each other with half smiles.

“Nah, it just fell off we just washed our hands”

Thinking back the guy must have known we’d been pratting about, but he mended it all the same.  Accidents happen.

Arms and I poodled down to the local supermarket where we found Super glue.  We got back to the house and Arms begun the task of sticking the ‘my first plaque’ together.  We (Opaque) said our good byes and headed for Edinburgh centre for a quick look around and a photo with the bagpipe man [pictured]. As the other boys busked I found a beautiful harpist.  The harp is so beautiful, admittedly so are normally the ladies playing them, but what it comes down to is a magical tone from the strings, they make you laugh, and by spectrum they’ll make you cry.  I got ten minutes shut eye string drunk then headed back over to the boys who’d found a nice arch under which they busked on the main street drag in Edinburgh centre. 

We sunk a beer in the nearest bar on another sunny day, sat on a table outside next to the footpath. My chair was just into the lines of the streaming people walking by.  I had the hot seat.  If you imagine being a turtle floating in the clear blue oceans in the midst of shoals of fish swimming past, in the opposite direction,  I was that turtle on Edinburgh high street.  After fishing for half an hour we left the café-bar, jumped in the car and headed back into England for our next show at Fibbers in York.  

We got there late and the management were flapping about us having to go on first because we had missed soundcheck. 

No we are not driving around the country to play to one deaf guy at the bar! 

“We’re billed on for 9 15 mate its only 8 we’ll line check and play at our billed time”

“The local support have gone off now though, cause you wasn’t here we told em they can have your slot”

BOLLOCKS!  We disapproved and recommended they try to contact the band to get there asses back to the venue and get on stage in 15 minutes but they we not obtainable.

We were left with a choice to do nothing but play at 8 15 to the deaf guy.  Oh well shit happens sometimes! He clapped all the same.  As we played it slowly filled.

The local guys that swooped our spot (and we think all the beers too) had a pretty full room to play to.  What was there name again?? They were nice guys backstage, filling Benny T and I with generous quantities of Jack Daniels straight from the bottle neck.  For three minutes of their gig they gave the crowd drums, bass and guitars with the repeated vocal – “know what I’m sayin”, “you know what I’m saying”.  We laughed hard, not because it was shit, it was just funny, and I was mesmerised by the size of the drummer.  I hadn’t seen them before they got on stage, I came in when they were a song into their show, I kept pointing out to Benny and Rich how huge the drummer was.  I’d never seen such a big musician, every time he hit the cymbals the room shook, I mean this guy was a hard hitter, no retreat, no surrender and definitely no prisoners.  He was hitting like it was the new and last source of renewable energy.  I laughed with amazement at the power and size of this guy.  The Drum kit appeared like a child’s toy version from toys R us.  I repeatedly commented on how enormous this guy looked.  The band finished and when they came back stage I realised what a big bastard I am, I was taller than this giant, sometimes you forget. 

Hamfatter rocked again, Its Labrador shit man.

Moony had other commitments tonight involving driving back to Peterborough with Jimmy D. Benny and I were far from ready to head back to the Boro, with one more night out on the road and the mini tour finale tomorrow in Cambridge’s Soul Tree.  We cleared the decks after the show and jumped in the van with the Hamf Crew heading for Wakefield, tonight we were heading to Bill, Michelle’s and Nanny Jimbo’s. 

Nanny Jimbo lived in a beautiful flat on the ground floor of their splendour of a home.  Bill and I drunk beer, well I drunk beer, lots and lots of beer, and we talked about music and the fish that swam in circles at the top of the stairs next to the guitar amps and effects pedals, Bill’s a cool guy, a guitarist/bass player too.  I started to flag and I could see the wrong side of my eyes as they rolled, as much as I didn’t want to be rude by leaving any hospitable beers left, I could drink no more.

They had a tiny child size piano built by Bills granddad in the upstairs hallway.  Despite begging for a restoration it still sang a little tune, Benny was enthralled and enjoyed a wee tinkle before we were shown to our sleeping quarters.  Half of us were shown to beds upstairs and the rest of us were shown downstairs to Nanny’s flat, we tip toed around like teenagers trying to sneak in at night, we were directed to the last room in the hallway. It had original dated oil paintings on the walls, an adult size piano, a few trinkets, two blow up beds and a setee.  Rainbow Jo and I claimed the blow ups as Benny snuggled into the sofa.  Just before we slept T-bag and I found our way back into the courtyard for one last puff.  We slept.  

We met Nanny in the hall the following morning;

“You’re the quitest rock band I’ve ever met” she remarked.

I laughed but almost felt failed as a wanna be rock star.

Where was the enormous pile of cocaine?

Where were the numerous ladies flashing?

Where were the arrests?

Where was the violent vomiting and waking up in bushes in the completely wrong towns??

It’s happened before, and I’m sure it is only round the corner but for this venture, we were good grandchildren.

Benny, Rainbow Jo and I walked our feast of vegetarian and sausage sandwiches off with a gentle stroll to find a nearby mill which was “just down the road there”.  After half an hours walk we come to the conclusion it was “just down the other road”.

 What we did find was a sheared rock face overlooking miles and miles of farmland with the clash of industrial units which from afar looked a little like a train docking station.  With a little squint, a mile high signal receiver stretched high into the clouds on a far away field.  Behind us sat the rock face with a decades worth of spray paint blanketing its jagged edges.  At the very top of the rock face HOLLYWOOD was cast in bright letters.  We climbed to the top.  We climbed back down. 

Our good byes came soon after our return to Bill and Michelle’s and Nanny Jimbo’s and a brief gathering for some group photo’s together left us with one voyage left to end this week.  In two and a half hours time we will be in Cambridge’s Soul Tree sound checking for the homecoming.  There were roomers of Soul Tree being sold out for Hamfatter’s big return to their home town after their two week tour and we had some friends coming up which was excitable, but the looming end to this week was quite sad.  I love being on the road, I hate four walls surrounding me and during the drive back to Cambridgeshire I couldn’t help but feel and know that soon our adventure was soon to end.  Sad feelings were quickly put in the side pocket, there is no room for negative to seep in yet, we still had one last show of the week and we were going to make sure that we rocked it to the hilt!  We arrived in good time.  Free beers and a bar top of varying snacks greeted us at the 2^nd floor venue.  Our friends Fre3 piece, a top hip hop/mellow groove band, arrived from London ready for their show tonight, they seemed in good spirits.  Check out www.myspace.com/fre3peace for some of their funkygrooveliscious music.

We all rocked it tonight, the crowd loved it, energy breeds energy and as a finale goes, it was a brilliant end to a most enjoyable week on the road.  Jamie Turner did a wonderful job arranging this tour and in getting Hamfatter to where they were now with doors opening for a prospective future for them in music.  Arms was a natural tour manager, at only twenty two years old I hope to see this guy filling this role again, superglue included. To Rainbow Jo, smoke on man! 

After sharing a week with these guys I was very hopeful they would be successful in their plight, good guys, good music, good laughs and good memories, Hasta Luego Compañeros.

Jamie, I need my pillow m8.

Eoin, my tuner dude.

and Jack if your reading this, I need my jeans man.

Till Then....X

                                         chops '08