Oi, You! Watchet!

This is our first blog post in a good year and three quarters. THAT'S how good a night we just had in Watchet. If all you had to go on was this Blog, you wouldn't even know Watchet was on our radar. But since we last produced a blog post, Dr John's Voodoo Lounge (also known as the Esplanade club) has become one of our favourite places to play.

I think turning up to find out that there was a donkey joining the audience was a good start.

And that in the course of a soundcheck, we managed to conjure up a boogie gumbo out of the ether that got the kind of response that we'd be have been pleased with at the end of the night, let alone an hour or so before we'd even got started.

And then to find that a group of undercover nurses had travelled from Stratford on Avon especially to experience us in the flesh.

And that Roy had had a stage built especially for us. If you don't know Roy, it's important that you understand that he's a legend. He's Watchet's answer to Snoop Dogg. 

And that we were somehow able to deliver a corking version of 'Hey Jude' without ever having played it before as a group, with nothing but a five minute squizz on google for the chords.

And that we were able to hand over all vocal duties on Mamma Mia to the aforementioned healthcare professionals.

Whatever it was, and whatever you believe, otherworldly energies were coursing through the collective sinews last night. Psychedelic synapses crackling with voodoo delights uniting one and all in an orgy of preposterous noises.

All in all, one of the finest nights any of us were able to remember. Truly one of the greats, up there with Bradninch in 2008, Moretonhampstead and Ashill in 2011, the bacchanalia of the Twyford days, the... Hang on - there have been a LOT of great nights. But this was definitely one of them.

Life affirming stuff. Are you ready Ashill? Because we are.

Fridays are the new Saturdays

A couple of Friday nights in a row for us at a couple of new venues has been the order of the day - Taunton and Tiverton have had their Tone Army recruitment drive officially intensified.

Although not technically a new venue (having been roped in for a rather marvellous party there last year), playing for the great unwashed at The Grove was right up our street. After a typically slow start for a Friday Night, the clientele baptised themselves in beer, dived into our stream of consciousness and shirts were torn off, Northern Soul moves dusted down, rugs cut and shirts abandoned. We gave a new tune an airing, and for a fourth encore our glorious leader led us into a rendition of 'Behind Blue Eyes', a song we have not only never performed in public, but have never pulled off in rehearsal either. It worked like a charm. It's how we roll.

The following Friday we headed to Tivvy's own Seven Stars, officially the last pub in Tiverton. Considering we seem to be directly implicated in the demise of both the Twyford and the Hare & Hounds, it was a bold move.




Taking our cues from the decor and constrained by Montenegro at one end of the evening and Mardy neighbours at the other, it seemed the only sensible move was an hour and three quarters of balls-out no-nonsense ROCK. All subtlety went out of the window, and nuance abandoned in favour of sheer volume.

It was a refreshing and revelatory time all round, and we would like to apologise once again for following the Anniversary congratulations with a song about an overweight lady of the night.

So, a week off to practice a little more ska for the set, then off to Silverton for their masked ball.

Ding dong!

Love you lot!
Byeeeeeee
X
- posted from a wireless telegraph

Summer Special!

Crikey. Time for the old Autumn Almanac already?

It may have seemed a little quiet on the Tone front of late, but only because, like all mighty bastions of Industry, we went private. But unlike our publicly listed cousins, ours was a strictly time limited arrangement. That's right - we can only dance for The Man in our little blue pants for so long before the longing to reach out and touch you, our loyal Tone Army, becomes overwhelming and we stumble, sometimes only partially dressed, into the pubs of the South West....

But what have we actually been up to? Well.





We've played at a Black Tie stately home do. Turned out to be more Moulin Rouge than Downton Abbey. Great work Somerset - you do decadent so well.

We were joined onstage at the Coaver Club by the Birthday Boy, for a rousing rendition of Mr Brightside - the reaction to which and the slightly Gym-like surroundings put us in mind of being the house band in the Teen Spirit video. Which was a good feeling.




We played on the verandah of one of the finest views in the Exe Valley. And that was just the audience. It was like Devon Life had merged with What Tattoo? magazine. Krys, we salute you.




We played to one of the best looking wedding crowds ever. Lovely lovely people, and we suspect a bit naughty in a very very good way too. Check the video evidence - Braunton 90210. Beautiful Bride crowd surfing to Pretty Vacant? Check. Flashing Uncle? Oh yes.


We returned to West Town Farm to play our first ever Bicentennial. A five way fortieth, with an industrial smoke machine. Barney, Alex and all - an honour. Congratulations once again.



Then the ace in the hole, the triumphant arena that saw our return to the public eye, ThorFest. Thorverton's inaugural beer and music festival saw us in the coveted sunset slot, and a great time was had by all. Are there many villages that can field ten great homegrown bands and twenty barrels of ale? The brains behind the operation was our very own ginger bellowsmith Bernie. Good work, Mr Samuel. Same time next year please.

And most recently of all, a Friday 13th date at our favourite Somerset drinking den, the Racehorse. What could go wrong? Apart from the exploding effects boxes and breaking strings leaving Bunting woefully exposed, filling time with his repertoire of precisely three jokes. Two of which are cheese themed. We smashed the bloody back doors in all the way to half midnight in the end though. Mary, we love the way you do what you do.

And that's us. We went for a bit. But we're back now. We never really went away. And we've missed you. And want to get right up close to you. See you down the front.

Love you byeeeeee! X

- posted from a wireless telegraph