Going down, madam?

The man, the legend...

That's right - the basement bar at the City Gate was our destination, to celebrate the wedding of our uber-producer, svengali and fifth Tone - Professor Owen 'The O' Gleeson, PhD.

We're not meant to go on about private do's on here, but we do anyway.  A fine bevvy of guests were in attendance, the resplendent wedding finery only highlighting the perkiness of the general throng.  But the novelty of our new smoke machine still hasn't worn off, and the fine looking folk were soon lost in an 18th century peas souper.  Or Ibizan love fest. Or both.

All in all, it was a corker of a gig.  We played better than we had in weeks which was a relief given how many friends were assembled.  Given the nature of these things, a couple of short sets was all we had time for, but we got the evening off to a flyer.  And it was with a spring in our steps and a kink in our fast decomposing stovepipes that we handed over to our celtic compadres who were kicking up a Sharmockin' Shitstorm up in the garden with their fiddly ways.  Awesome stuff. One of them offered to give Harry a twirl but he said he's already eaten.  

So, on to next weekends Double Header - Friday at the Twyford, Saturday at the Bowling Green.  Get in!  See you at one or the other, or even better, both!

Love you byeee x