Bredonborough.
Dave, carpenter & ambient musician of Bredonborough, brought his nephew to the show at Birmingham NIA & afterwards carried me home - yippee! T arrived back from a gig in Manchester around 02.00 - another yippee! A treat: waking up at home with the Luvvie, sun shining after the grey, wet days we've had in the UK since arriving.
The Satch Bus, en route from Birmingham to Bournemouth, came to visit. The sun kept shining for Lunch At Home With Pals --
Come Into The Garden Matt --
T rejects conventional domesticity, but her cooking is superb. The remains of a large Trifle a la Willcox went onto the Satch Bus. T will drive us both to Bournemouth shortly.
18.25 A vision of another, deeper, level of hell: the BIC --
23.55 Horrible, appalling acoustics. A terrible, unfriendly hall. An audience of the South: half put out no discernible energy. Steve worked hard, did a superb set, and only managed to raise distinct signs of life from the available half.
It was deeply upsetting to me that people of my close acquaintance came to this nasty place: Gordon Haskell & John Wetton, pals from the GC community. What a pity anyone at all, onstage & off, suffered this sonic pit. Afterwards, while trying to find my friends, I saw a security woman standing, smoking, under a large No Smoking poster. Somehow, this seemed appropriate.
Wayne Forte, G3's agent & Crim's agent in the 1980s, has arrived to visit for a few days. What a place to begin.
"Honour the role.
Respect the person."
