John Hegley at the 12 Bar

Last night I decided to meet up with Joan the Animator and see John Hegley play at the 12 Bar. We both know him- she because he goes and does writing workshops with her quiet animation students, and I because the Chefs drummer Russ Greenwood used to be in the Popticians with him, and Russ's brother Nick plays bass with him still. On the way there, as I walked down from Tottenham Court Road tube, a man came up behind me and asked me if I was French.
'No', I said. 'Why?'. 'Because you look as though you might be'.
Well this led to all sorts of thoughts.
"Did you have brussels sprouts for your tea? You look as though you did'.
"Have you got an aunt called Moira? You look as though you do'.
'Will you be taking the day after tomorrow off work to go shopping? You look as though you will'.
'Has your sister just had triplets? You look as though she has'.
And so on.
Anyway.
It was chilly in the 12 Bar and I went to the newly refurbished loo, or perhaps I should say, reverse-furbished. It was always pretty awful, but they have downgraded it to utterly disgusting and you honestly couldn't tell which one was for men and which one was for women, apart from the third one which was obviously for men. I resolved to drink the minimum amount that evening in case I had to go back!
Joan turned up, attractively pink with cold at face points, and wearing a black puffa jacket as thick as an Antarctic duvet. We sat for a while chatting until Nick, John and Vicky the trombone player joined us, and I was persuaded to sing backing vocals for Stetson Jim's song later on.
We followed them through to the cave-like live room and listened to songs about guillemots that sit on the window sill a lot, bungalows, gay men and other real life things. John Hegley is funny and scary simultaneously; I liked seeing him with a band- they were very good. The drummer (who became and Uncle ten minutes ago, according to a relative in the audience) was light-handed and brisk, and Nick is a very skilled and musical bass player. Me and Joan decided that Vicky had Audrey Hepburn potential were she not a tomboy, and her trombone playing really iced the musical cake. It was a quirky musical evening with a very warm-hearted audience and was infinitely better than staying at home and watching the telly. When Stetson Jim did his song I sat on the edge of the stage and read the lyrics off a scrap of paper, as I can't even remember the lyrics of my own songs. Musically, it was a very interesting night because there was quite obviously a degree of spontanaiety in the way the band was working.
And what a funny little venue it is. I have often wondered how it dares to exist in the trashy, cheap, money-riddled West End that steamrollers the heart out of everything. But there it is- shabby, with its own style of acts, sometimes packed, sometimes deserted, tatty, dirty, but completely charming.