Bowlin' Bowlin' Bowlin', though the streams are swollen...

Having had our preparations for the Bowling Green cut perilously short by the tribulations of the great and good of the village (see previous), we were feeling good. After all, experience shows that there is no greater portent of doom than a decent rehearsal beforehand. It tends to lull one into a false sense of security, and removes the rock n roll ants from our patented modwardian spanx. And if we're honest, there's one thing we all need, and that's entomological interest in our undercarriages.

And we were right to feel good. A quiet Bowling Green filled up so fast when we kicked off that the sweat started literally pouring off us by the third song. With nearly fifty on the list, it was fortunate we had Tone Army stalwarts to keep us refreshed.



Before...

Another banging night at the Bowler was had by all, from the passing bass heads to the small but never insignificant Hell's Angel's contingent, to the 1920s flappers to the aforementioned Tone Army Stalwarts. There were even genuine musicians in the audience who were able to enthusiastically confirm that Pub Rock had once again been elevated by us to it's rightful place as an Art Form.

Even the curse of the Bowling Green made an appearance. Always the scene if some of our most spectacular equipment failures, this trip was no exception. But this time the alignment of the stars had nothing to do with it. Not even the notorious ley lines detected and amplified by Markie's communist era Soviet valve set were innocent this time. No, this one was self inflicted. Our glorious ginger demigod of a singer managed to sweat so much, so very very much, that it all dribbled into his Telecaster and shorted the bugger out.



...and after

So, with a promise of a trip to Germany next year to wow the locals at Schnitzelfest 2013 (installation of a perspiration drain allowing), and the satisfaction of an audience well satisfied, it was off to the Bat Cave for a little jazz fusion and some emergency hand surgery!
See you next time!
X

Location:The Bowling Green

Thorvertones vs the committee!

This evening we turned up as usual for our Wednesday rehearsal up Johns back alley, only to find we'd been usurped by a triple booking of us, the show committee and the British Legion. And you know who's going to come off worse in a square up between some octogenarian fundraisers, the great and the good of the village and four modwardian snotrags.




That's right, we had to wait it out in the car park and practice our swearing. Having had more downtime of late than a Natwest cash point, we really needed to get our musical ends away. So when we finally got in, we had but an hour to polish ourselves up for our next engagement. But what an hour! It was like Flashman in a Parisian brothel, good stuff just kept coming and coming, beauty after little beauty.
Saturday at the bowling Green is going to be awesome! See you there!
Love you byeeeee!
X
- posted from a wireless telegraph