Winkleigh Fair (Slight Return)

So it’s probably fair to say our expectations of the good folk of Winkleigh were reasonably high, after they failed to be put of by the monsoon-like weather conditions that accompanied last year’s performance and the carnage that followed several months later at the Seven Stars. Needless to say, we weren’t disappointed; the committee had gone all out to make this a year to remember, and as soon as the lads spotted the colossal stage area, and backstage area with chilled beer, a good night was on the cards.

Only problem was - the buggers wouldn’t let us stop! It’s fair game having one or two encores at the end of the night, this is expected. Returning to the stage for the fourth time, and with most of the equipment in a state of collapse, the only thing we hadn’t played was a completely unrehearsed version of ‘Won’t get fooled again’. Luckily the lads pulled off a blinder and went steaming off in the direction of the Exe valley with Winkleigh ringing in their shell-likes. See you next year!

Carlsberg don't make pubs, but if they did...

It was with some excitement that we approached the Bowling Green on Saturday night – it had been waaaay too long since we’d put our Modwardian toes in this hallowed pond.  Once again though, it was troubadours vs the beautiful game – the world football trophy was vying for the attention of the assembled throng, and there was nothing we could do but give it a ruddy good go. 

 

Warm wasn’t the word for it though – the impact of our efforts was immediately apparent – we thought we were going to get things moving with a fairly mellow rock n roll start, but not with this lot.  Maybe it was the hats, maybe it was the beards,most likely it was young Turner rakishly undoing an extra button on his shirt, but we soon realized we were in for a sweaty night – by halfway through the first set there wasn’t a dry seat in the house, and everyone was up and dancing. By the end of the first set we were pleading for water like a lost troop of desert rats and the incredible audience (who were even more good looking than usual, if you can believe such a claim) were up and dancing like there was no tomorrow…

 

The second half just got better.  You had to be there.  In between gasping for oxygen and downing a collective 18 pints of water, we managed to squeeze in our first go at Toxic by Britney, some startlingly rendered 80’s classics, alarmingly accurate seventies gems and assorted titbits.  The surprise Whole Lotta Radar Love left some of the chaps in the audience agog.  Disco Inferno left some of the front row beauties visibly excited. The TimeWarp veered perilously close to line dancing territory, and the big My Generation finish pretty much left us for dead!  And the audience!  We love you! We love the Bowling Green! Sue rocks!

 

Now, hold onto your stovepipes boys, next stop Winkleigh!