Practically crying as I tried to negotiate the trillionth roadworks, I comforted myself with the thought that all superstars Go Through This.
We all wonder why Watford Gap is called Watford Gap when it's nowhere near Watford.
We all buy wine gums and then try to find only the black ones and the red ones while keeping our eyes on the road.
We all watch flirting buzzards, oblivious to the frantically rushing traffic beside them, and ducks doing sexy things in the sky
We all curse the bit of Yorkshire where there is fuel promised but a swathe of closed-down petrol-stations
We all, yet again, buy disgusting coffee (coffee?) from Welcome Break at 1 a.m. even though we did that last time. Will we never all learn?
We all wonder if we could pretend to be a motorcycle instead of a car on the M6 toll road, thereby paying much less
We all wish high-top white vans and multiple-wheelbased articulated lorries were forbidden from overtaking, particularly uphill
We all wonder why iPod shuffle thinks we want to hear the same track four times on a two-hour journey
Oh yes, and Superstars do gigs. And get lost on the way, and even the lovely shipbuilding cranes of the northwest coastline do not compensate.
A five hundred mile round trip!
They were panicking at 9.30 at the Cafe Matisse; it was raining ( I think it does in Southport) and nobody had arrived yet. Then suddenly, people started turning up. I had asked to go on first because of driving back. It was one of those gigs that's a kids-night-out gig, so there was a big bunch of people at the back yakking like there was no tomorrow. But some people came specially to see me (thank you, if you read this!) and there was a group of girls down the front who were really into it. One had plaits, so it could have been coiffure-bonding, but they were listening and they laughed at the funny bits. And the guys from another band, Chrik, were there scrutinising my fingers. I heard their soundcheck and thought they were brill so I was dead flattered.
It was a nightmare getting there and worse getting back (I discovered that if I had come the proper way instead of getting lost I would have ended up having to turn round and go back the lost way anyway because an entire huge road was closed) but hats off to the guys at RockPaperScissors for organising it- I can imagine Southport is a bit of a desert for live music that alternative crowds will enjoy, and they are really dedicated to their nights. I enjoyed playing even though I was knackered, and I have a fantastic photo of some plastic whistling policemen from a Southport shop window to upload just to prove I did it!
I've had a banana in the car for more than a week now and still not eaten it.
No comments:
Post a Comment