I suffered for my idiocy.
It took three hours to get to Gipsy Hill, during which time I got stuck on a box junction after driving through an amber light (I'm waiting for the fine as we speak) and then driving into the congestion zone by accident after being confused by all the diversions (thus necessitating a phone call to pay by card when I got to the gig). My car was all the time making alarming creaking noises, telling me at was going to shortly cost thousands of pounds in repair bills.
After rushing up and down Gipsy Hill and asking in every pub I came to, I realised that the gig was, in fact, at Tulse Hill, and I had to employ guesswork and Mc-nav to get myself there and not shout (you know how it is when you make a humungously stupid mistake and only have yourself to blame, how you wish so much that it was someone else's fault so you could target your explosion at them!)
Ah for the calm! The Railway at Tulse Hill has something of the Oxfam-shop about it so I felt instantly at ease. Ingrid Andrew was setting up, with Leon, her soundman; musicians were arriving and chatting peacefully in different corners of a room that seemed to have more corners than most. People strummed bits of songs without interfering with each other's zone. A brief check, and we were off. Johan had come all the way from Sweden to see me play, and I hoped the evening wouldn't disappoint him.
Ingrid played a song to begin, and then the first guest took to the stage, a woman with a powerful and impressive voice that resonated around the whole room; she was mesmerising and set a high standard for the evening. She was followed by Cath Tait (above), a comedienne and musician whom I've played with before at the Bar Latina in Tottenham. She was on form tonight, balancing casual cynicism with sensitivity of style, so her material had a subtlety that kept it engaging. Sometimes relentless comedy makes me shut down, but her approach was relaxed and varied, and her presentation style was confident but laid back enough to allow people to listen; she's wise enough not to be the party bore, but to pull people into her very funny songs instead. Excellent, and very entertaining.
Me? I took my watch off. I guessed Joan Armatrading was a lesbian when I saw her perform on TV with her watch on; it showed a comtempt for style that singled her out as a 'different' artist. I don't care whether people think I'm a lesbian or not, but taking my watch off is a symbol of how much I care about my songs. This new start to my playing career means a hell of a lot to me. The only problem was, I left the bloody tocker at the gig and didn't realise till I looked at my blank wrist on the way home!
Anyway, I played four songs- Bad Day, Love on the Wind (made a mistake, grrr!), London (best I've ever played it- it's such a hard song to play but I have been practicing it like mad), and Memento Mori. It was a listening audience and I was mindful of the fact that Johan had come such a long way. I hope it was worth it. Johan!
Ingrid recited a poem and sang a song again- she has her own individual style, there is no-one like her. She's full of bonhomie and good vibes. I had a yak with Mike and Emerald- Mike was just off to DJ at the Windmill in Brixton.
Then it was home-time; I missed the rest because I was so anxious about getting back, although it looked like it was going to be a really stimulating night.
The traffic lights were on my side, the endorphins were doing their job, and I even remembered to eat when I got home so I didn't wake up in the night starving.
Tally-ho!
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