Following last week's celebrations of Bernie's impending decrepitude, we all joined him heading over the hill, but this time to the Culm Valley for an altogether more youthful 21st Birthday shindig. From the moment Dan turned up at the Cricket Club to a roaring "SURPRISE!" and rendition of Happy Birthday (that's 'Happy C-C to G' Bunting, you tit) we were in a slightly wonky parallel version of a gig. Well, it was in Cullumpton. It's traditional.Our Floor Fillers inexplicably cleared the floor. Songs intended to provide what is usually a much needed breather bizarrely filled it up again. Spectacularly under rehearsed, we were so supernaturally tight we could have been wearing ultra heat treated Spanx. Pulling old tunes out of the bag was no effort at all (in a desperate, and as it turned out inspired moment Coldplay made it's first appearance since sometime in 2008...). The usual red stage lighting turned inexplicably pink for the occasion. We were treated to our first boob flash (that's another one ticked off the list). We ended the night with a floor full of perky and really rather pert youth giving it some proper welly.
So, all's well that ends well. Dan's a man at 21, we managed to connect with an audience far younger than 95% of our material (and some even younger than the boy Turner) and to top it all, we got to play silly buggers on a cricket pitch. Happy days!
Our next stop is a flatbed in Moretonhampstead High Street. Wethinks a little AC/DC might be in order...
Love you byee!
X
- posted from a wireless telegraph
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