Bristol

For two days now, I have been trying to send the photo of Drunk Granny playing to my computer. (just done it!)
Silly: I have an iPhone and it should be easy. But no, because I write my blog on a different Mac from the one I set up my phone on and I don't want to buy any more i-Applications to confuse my life. the phone doesn't appear as a hard drive on my desktop like my old non-Mac phone used to.
If Mr Mac isn't careful, he will find himself targeted by Microsoft-type virusmakers, feeling grumpy about the tied-up feeling that's beginning to appear with Mac products.

Well, what I was trying to say was that I hoped to review the Bristol gig two days ago but have given up on the Drunk Granny photo and here's the review anyway, slightly threadbare due  to the fact that I drove there and back in one day and therefore left as soon as I'd played.

Hmm... it hadn't been publicised properly and in spite of a brilliant line-up featuring the Stingrays at the top of the bill, it wasn't exactly packed to the rafters.
But that gave me a chance to enjoy Drunk Granny's mad set. They have been in Berlin and have come back as tight as a cow's harris in a sandstorm.
Their songs are short and shouty and their personnel (Debi on guitar and Edie on drums) are mistresses of thrashy economy. No song lasts for more than two minutes, I think, which in my book makes them all hits.
Breath of fresh air, mate, breath of fresh air.
I have their DIY CD and will review it in a few days time.
Next up were Denial Factor, a trio of young women from Yeovil aged between 17 and 20 who had been sitting quietly eating cold pizza from a biscuit tin in the dressing room for most of the evening. They were all very good musicians, especially the drummer. The singer/bass player had a strong and piping voice and their music was more rock-inspired than punky; I can imagine them being signed up in the twinkling of an eye. I had supplied them with a top E string for the electric guitar, and therefore claim credit for their entire gig.
Then it was my turn, with my not-punk. But it was okay, I think.
The guys from the Stingrays said I was a very good guitarist and Drunk Granny seemed to be enjoying it, and the drummer from Disorder was grinning along as well. So I was happy, and I drove home just managing to keep my eyes open.

What I would now like to know is... what did I eat that gave me food poisoning?

P.S. I met Dave Laing today, and the paperback of The Lost Women of Rock Music is going to go ahead, published by Equinox. I have to finish the extra interviews by July and finish the amendments by September, and with any luck it will be out in a year's time!