It’s taken a while to get round to telling this story, but its far too great to go untold.  On the 1st April I played a show at Bush Hall in London, with the band – Phil on drums, Jon on bass and Miriam on keys and vocals.

For those who don’t know it, Bush Hall is one of those deceptive buildings that looks very insignificant from outside, but once you’re in there it’s quite impressive.  A kind of gig-goer’s Tardis.  An old dance hall with a high ceiling, lots of cornicing and a number of large chandeliers, in a room that holds maybe 3-400 people.  So you can imagine the rough size of the place.

The dressing room has one door to the venue and another glass door that goes outside into an enclosed courtyard.  To get to the toilet you have to go outside into the courtyard and then up some stairs. 

The show started well, things sounded good on stage and the crowd were on our team.  Somewhere around the middle of the set I planned to do a couple of songs without the band, so Jon decided it was the perfect opportunity to grab a quick wee before coming back to play the rest of the set.

So he went out into the courtyard and up the stairs to do whatever he needed to do.  When he tried to get back into the dressing room from outside he was locked out.  After much banging on the doors he became convinced that no one else was back stage. 

Now Jon is a dedicated and resourceful kinda guy at the best of times but at this point - knowing I only had one more song before the band were due back on – he set about climbing over the building.  Jon scaled the roof of Bush Hall, lowered himself onto the road on the other side, walked in the front door, and straight up to the stage to pick up his bass and strike up the next tune.

Again, you couldn’t make this stuff up.