Monday, August 27, 2007


We were so full of ourselves back in the day, we would congregate at our local bar 'The Royal' every weekend starting on a Friday night. It would be a drinkfest until closing time when it would be back to a house to carry on partying or if the worst came to the absolute worst home to bed.It was on the whole a great place to hang out, everyone we knew started to go there, some nights the bar would have noone in it but friends. Other nights you entered at your peril.
The trouble was that as a musician with an ego the size of Everest, growing up in Morley was not a safe thing. People hated the way we dressed, or were jealous of the attention we received, in fact any deviation from what the herd considered to be acceptable usually culminated in physical violence.This would all blow up if any of these anti social psycopaths wandered in to the bar.

I have been punched, kicked & had pint glasses broken over my head for looking or acting in a way that has not conformed.The problem was that when it came to going against the herd there was no vegetarian choice on the menu. You either grew up thick accepting your lot, beating the hell out of anyone who did not fit in to your narrow world view or you got out of town as soon as you could.
I mean during the course of a rowdy gig at a punk venue you expect & even encourage wild behaviour, but not when you just want a fun evening out with your girlfriend & fellow band members.The time between the bar closing & getting to a safe venue were fraught with drunken danger.

I look back & wonder how we did it, I am also happy that been a musician in this day & age does not have the same dangers attached to it. Now if we could just do something about all those fuckwit managers, agents, executives & twats that hang on to the aspiring musicians coat tails, we would be OK.

Listening to

Seth Lakeman ( Thanks G )
Plain white tees
White stripes
John Foxx

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