Chilly Gateshead... a biting wind flew over the North Sea and inflated people's anoraks. Their noses went pink and dripped; words were blown out of their mouths as they spoke.
Looming out of the drifting mist, Gateshead Library served as a refuge from the reprise of winter; through it's warm, fluorescent-lit doors, a steady stream of people filtered and clustered around tables with pints of amber nectar. Almost all of the Jumping' Hot Club were there; so were Mick and June with the CDs, and Martin's daughter Phoebe with her Mum. The sound man, Adam, put the finishing touches to the microphones and off we went.
Martin lent me the orange Gretsch. As soon as I opened the case, Jim swooped over and clutched it enthusiastically to his bosom, twanging and whamming with glee.
The sound was great. Afterwards, Adam told me that it was to do with the wooden ceiling and the length of the room; it was lovely to sing and play in that room. I've had a bit of a break and I played a new song (Bird Talk at the Waterfall) and revived an old one (January In Paris); Martin came up and joined me for a couple at the end.
He was on form last night; his riff on Gordon the farting drummer had people crying with laughter, especially the story of him parting the audience like Moses as he stood in the audience at a gig.
He was in fine voice too, and played a lot of Daintees classics with Jim doing great support work on the acoustic guitar. They played a lovely version of See You In My Dreams too. There was a beautiful version of Rain, and a brilliant Wholly Humble Heart.
Three cheers for the audience, who were all ears and clapping hands, and that's just what you want, innit?