I got to Edinburgh mid-afternoon, checked in, and went for an all-day breakfast in the Royal Mile. As I sat outside the caff, I witnessed a young couple filming themselves using an obedient drone that whined like a mosquito. I hope the idea doesn't take off (ha ha!). Can you imagine the low-sky overcrowding, the collisions, the arguments, the court cases? Bring on the anti-drone kestrels that I understand have ruined the attempts to introduce drones for general purposes in The Netherlands!
The Leith Depot was rescued from development by a furious public campaign a few years ago, and three cheers for that. The anonymous beige slab buildings run out halfway down Leith Walk, where a human-sized parade of bars and shops takes over. There it was, still there, only this time the music venue had moved downstairs. I had a nice chat to the Onion Cellar crew, the promoters, before David and Daren turned up for their sound check. During that I went for a walk and found Argonaut Books just down the road, where I had a browse for half an hour. I could have spent a lot longer there, but had to go back before doors opened for my own sound check. At open doors, in came Alan McDowall (one time guitarist with So You Think You're A Cowboy), Neil Cooper the music blogger of note, Dot Allan the music tech lecturer and piano star, and Liz Tainsh, Refugee benefit organiser and dog walker extraordinaire. Pals! We caught up a bit before I went on stage. There weren't a huge amount of tickets sold, so Nicola, one of the promoters, had invited her son and a group of twenty-somethings to come along. They seemed to really like my stuff (well, so they said afterwards) and sang along lustily with everyone else when the time came. I even managed to play Things Like This, despite the song fighting back at every opportunity. Hooray for the youth of today, and their willingness to listen to new music from old people!
David and Daren played a fine, tight set that included a lot of the stuff from David's new album. They are very loud; the sound engineer came through the crowd and handed me a pair of earplugs, which was very considerate of him. I have done quite a lot of support gigs for them and now I know their songs pretty well; this was a successful night for them too. Afterwards, and after saying a quick video hello to Jerry Thackeray on someone's phone and a bit more chatting, it was time to wait for the number seven bus in the drizzle. Another nice gig in the bag... which reminds me: someone tried to steal from the back of my guitar bag and left it unzipped. Obviously my set lists and guitar lead were not appealing. But Edinburgh has a bit of an edge these days that it didn't have before. What a pity.
The hostel that I spent the night in was extraordinary: spotlessly clean, but unfortunately opposite an open-air nightclub that pumped loud bass-driven music into the humid air until 2 a.m., complete with raucously-singing punters. The music thundered through the open windows and bashed me on the head. Fellow guests checked their phones regularly, the random lights illuminating our insomnia. The last guest to arrive was sleeping on the upper deck of my own bunk. She clumped up the ladder and dropped a loud thing on the floor that she had to thump back down to find. The sheets on the bed were wonderfully fresh and crisp, however. I 'slept' cuddled up to my guitar with the sleeve of my jacket over my eyes to keep out the light, waking at 6.30 and deciding to go for a shower. It was shockingly, icy cold. I did not gasp, because I'm 'ard.
Big thanks to the Onion Cellar Presents for their support of live music in Edinburgh!
So that's about it: I'm home now.
But I didn't tell you about the French family on the way up in the train who discussed in the French language making me move seats so they could all sit together. Maman put on her best fake, charming smile to ask me but I'd wedged myself into the corner with my guitar, my breakfast and my book so said 'no'. It turned out that the seat was actually for their dog! I eavesdropped for the rest of the journey. Funny how they assumed that nobody could understand them. To add insult to injury, they opened a box of hardboiled eggs to eat for lunch and the ghastly pong filled the whole carriage.
Oh the adventures, the adventures!
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