After such heavy gigging and travelling the weekend before (though it was hugely enjoyable!) it was a great thing to go out to be in the audience for this really special gig. There were so many people to say hello to on the way in that we missed part of The Wouldbegoods' set, which is a pity because guitar duos are particularly fascinating at the moment. True to the spirit of The Lexington, the venue was already full for them, which was wonderful to see. I took up a vantage point to watch the last two songs, which were really well-received, and within the twinkling of an eye, Bid and crew were on stage to play the first of their sets, sans Lester Square at first. I was going to say they were just Monochrome (without the 'Set'), but they were great, and played a song that I was furiously jealous of. I started filming it halfway through because I want to find out what its called and become more jealous still, which is really healthy for a song writer (having just completed an album, I need a stimulus to kickstart writing new songs again). Bid was in great voice: the grace-notes were utterly graceful and the deadpan was full-on. The crowd was rustling restlessly, and after another short break, on came the full crew. By this time I'd slipped down to the front, and managed to peer through the 'v' gap between two chap's heads. What fun!
They roared through Eligible Bachelors and as always it was the little details of being at one of their live gigs that made it a special occasion, the banter especially. As one song was coming to a close, Bid turned round to drummer Mike, quite possibly to enquire about whether he knew how the song ended. Mike shook his head, no... and suddenly, the song ended absolutely perfectly.
A yearning voice called out from the back of the crowd: 'I love you, Andy Warren!'. Was Andy smiling, or was that a trick of the light? His bass thundered through the floor, whacking our hearts like a sledgehammer. There is no one else like him.
Lester Square, serious in spectacles, concentrated hard on his playing. I used to pretend to be him when I was nervous on stage, you know. It worked. Just him: I couldn't have managed the shoulder-revolving tic that is such an enigmatic feature of the way he plays.
'Turn Lester up!' shouted another aficionado. 'Turn that man down!' retorted Bid.
In a moment of darkness at the encore, Lester read out a satanist prayer by Anton LaVay, which summed up the current state of play perfectly. Later, he offered the original Eligible Bachelors album artwork to anyone who could identify the hit record the producer of the album had sung on.
'Gaudete!' responded a clever fellow, and he was right.
Others in the audience decided to try it on. 'Can I have your guitar when you're finished, Lester?', asked one, plaintively; 'Or your trousers: I'm not fussed!'.
How could the audience of people literally wearing anoraks back in the day have grown up to be such wags? I'll never know.
It all added to the sense of fun and madness. The music, of course, was wonderful: every member of the band worked full-on to make the album work live: it was exactly right. My photos are rubbish, but here's a song. Thanks for a great night, you absolute dudes; in the words of Bid (actually describing my first solo album, *blush*) it was 'classy!'
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