THEA FORD - "Monkey To The West" album launch show / EVERY OTHER ONES debut gig - Bush Hall, Uxbridge Road W12

Three or four months ago (time is all relative, isn't it?), I began working with the radiant Miss Thea Ford. This was all leading up to the release of an album, entitled "Monkey To The West", which Thea had been working on for upwards of two years. Emails back and forth prior to my audition revealed that a revolving door of musicians had been the source of much frustration, so I was determined to be the guitarist for the job. After that first meeting (a few hours in a sweaty rehearsal room just under Waterloo East railway station) I received a text message which stated "Chris, you rock!". Which was nice!

Since then we've performed a few gigs for which I haven't written gig diaries, so I will sum them up as succinctly as I can:

Gocstock IV (which I did write about - at great length - on this blog somewhere down below).

22 July - Belushi's, Covent Garden - this was an acoustic gig in the corner of a bar. We performed for half an hour, went down a storm and were offered a gig the next night which we unfortunately had to turn down. A good turn out.

31 July - The Red Room - below The Comedy Pub, Haymarket - A fully electric gig, on the bill with a number of other very talented and / or humourous acts. This was a very enjoyable gig for yours truly. Poor Thea had a bit of a cough and had to leave me to take lead vocal at one point, which was quite amusing! Also, our superb young drummer Richard's bass drum pedal broke it's banjo string (so to speak). Ever the professional he fixed it and joined in on verse two of the next number. Cracking! Lots of fun, especially "Fall Down" which went over very well indeed.

12 August - Bar Music Hall, Shoreditch - A lovely venue just round the corner from Old Street tube. This one was fraught with danger. We had a rehearsal booked in for that night, which we did two hours of then raced to the gig. Richard had pranged his motor en route from Dover and as such couldn't make it. Nevin 'NEVOAH!' Sood stepped in and did a fine job for us, even coping with the unexpected double chorus at the end of Cat & Mouse. Lots of red wine then got me very pissed. Fabulous night.

Which brings us to the album launch show!

Bush Hall I...



II...



III...



I had left home around 1pm, aiming to get there well early and find a cheeky pint of the black stuff somewhere. A smooth journey, despite untold numbers of cancelled trains on the Southeastern network - something unfortunate seemed to be buggering trains going the other way, and for some reason this was cancelling North Kent Line trains going in my direction. How exciting. I jumped on the next train London-bound and arrived in SheBu (a popular contraction of Shepherd's Bush, apparently) around 3pm. A short walk to the venue later and I ran into Mark 'Smarties, but no blue ones' O'Neill and Laurence 'it does make me rather moist' Hodge. Mark jetted off to collect the tubthumper, Laurence retired to his car to listen to the radio and I wandered off in search of sustenance after dumping my gear in the venue. Finding nothing but a pasta snack and a bottle of apple juice I sauntered leisurely back to the venue. I managed to arrive just as Mark pulled up with Richard 'they're not pecs' Gould in tow with his impressive stack o' drums. Then who should walk round the corner but the diva herself, Thea 'look at my impractical bags, aren't they cool?' Ford. Time to set up then!

Keyboard world...



Mark searches for The Brown Note (it's up the other end, mate!)...



Guitar World...



I set up just in front of Keyboard World, having been provided with a Marshall combo by Mister O'Neill. My main gigging amp lives in Hull, and it's about time I bought myself a decent combo. August's shopping list is written! A very agreeable amp it was, and I quickly found my sound and retired backstage for a spot of reading.

MC Sood & The Bass Player...



Mark demands his rider...



Not content with just playing with Thea's band this evening, Bush Hall would also be treated to the debut performance of Every Other Ones, a band comprising of myself and David 'fucking' Sharpe as an acoustic guitar duo. Sharpey arrived just before soundcheck with Thea commenced, which was a joy. I do so love it when the sound man tells the drummer to play quieter! However, Richard is an astoundingly capable young man and is the only drummer I've ever had the privelege of playing with who can actually turn himself down! (Hope you're reading this, Joe...!)

Richard and his Technicolour Drumkit...



Time for a lie down...



Soundcheck with Sharpey was entertaining, as Barney the Soundman wasn't very keen on the idea of mic-ing up acoustic guitars in this room. Tough luck, thought I, and we went ahead. Things sounded fine to me! Sharpey, Richard and I naffed off up The Coningham Arms where we were met by my pal Kev. A nice relaxing pint later and it was time to head back in time to catch the first act, the lovely Rowena Carter and her string section. Beautiful.

Time for Every Other Ones to assault the world. Our set went down very well, and comprised of three originals and two covers as follows:

Again & Again
...Baby One More Time
Same Old
Kid Gloves
I Should Have Stayed At Home

Received to good reviews, Sharpey and I were dead chuffed and will be in the market for more gigs soon. We need to write the rest of the album, old boy!

Another support act followed, whose name escapes me now. I do remember them loftily stating that they would bring between 50-100 fans with them. A likely story, and had I heard this before the night I would have suggested to Thea to drop them! Until the night before I still thought that Mayfly Trio were supporting, and I'm dead disappointed that they weren't. Guys, if you're reading this you were missed!

Then it was time for the gig Thea's been working towards for years. With the band standing onstage like lemons waiting for MC Sood to reappear, the stage was set. Nev did his bit and we started out with the first few bars. The set proceeded thusly:

You Got Me
Your Eyes, My World
22
Intro / Monkey To The West
Made Of You
Dear Bully
Cat & Mouse
You Said
Zombie
Hold You Together
One Day Soon
So Long
Fall Down



A cracking performance all round, and an incredible reception from an impressive crowd. A few mistakes here and there causing giggles onstage, but not a trainwreck in sight. The atmosphere was compelling, and obviously my personal highlight was that guitar solo in Cat & Mouse - it got an amazing reaction and I honestly thought the roof might come off as that song reached it's finale. All in all, a highly enjoyable gig.

Huge thanks to everyone who came along, particularly my family and friends (special mentions for Beth, Kev and Glenn). It meant a lot that you were there, especially to Sharpey and myself. You rock.

The future holds writing sessions, both for Thea Ford and for Every Other Ones. I'm looking forward to being part of the process! Let's get cracking on some new music.

Til next time
Not Chris, not Harrison, but Chrissy H.

HI-ON SOUTHAMPTON / MAIDSTONE - July 25/26

HI-ON SOUTHAMPTON & MAIDSTONE

July 25 had arrived, and it was time to go back to The Brook! One of my favourite venues on the circuit, this Southampton bastion of rock is always a blast to play with an enthusiastic crowd. This gig would prove no exception. But I race ahead of myself...

After Kettering's head-gear fiasco, I had made a mental note to remember my wig. Packing my bag in the morning before any ablutions had taken place, I suddenly realised that I had NO idea where the bloody hell me syrup was. A frantic scramble around my bombsite of a bedroom resulted in a bigger mess than there was before. Thankfully our blonde friend was found atop the wardrobe. A quick wash later and it was, as they say, in the bag. It was around this time that I looked at my phone (which was on silent - clever, that) and saw that young Nicko "no moon, gay power!" McBrain Jnr had been trying to get in touch. The poor chap had encountered train trouble and was talking about having to go via Cambridge to get to London from Harlow. Several phone-calls later and the sensible lad had found himself a lift to the nearest tube station instead. Good boy. By this time I had already found myself a seat on a train towards Southampton, and arranged to meet our incumbent tub-thumper at Southampton Airport Parkway. Sneaky pint time!

Guinness...



McBrain arrived around 5pm and we were on our way to Das Brook.

Drummer Attached to Phone...



The train which whisked us towards the closest station to the venue (St. Denys) seemed to have arrived replete with Deceased Passenger. A poor chap across the way from us did not seem to be inhaling, exhaling or otherwise stimulated. "One too many cheese rolls?", I posited on our way off the locomotive. After hardly any walk at all we found ourselves at the venue.



Arriving to find that we had completely missed the load-in (what a shame), I proceeded to set up my gear. After the sweat-drenched Kettering gig a few weeks prior, I had asked Mister Adrian "don't forget yer wig!" Swift if he'd be so kind as to re-string my axe. I'd have done it meself but the guitars venture back to 'Ull with Swifty after each gig. Unfortunately, it had slipped his mind as many things do (the whereabouts of his phone, his glasses, his phone, his passport, his phone...), and I would brave the gig with potentially-breakable strings. Not a massive issue as my back-up guitar had brand new strings 'ponst it. With amp set up and ready to rock, I retired upstairs to the dressing room for a cup of coffee with Bruce "nothing to not drink for" Dugginson. We had a chat about wigs - your humble narrator is getting rather fed up of 'Jenny' (or 'Johnny', if you prefer!) and is in the market for a new rug. Let me know if you've any ideas!

Soundcheck I...



II



Soundcheck went well, and afterwards some of my cohorts naffed off to Big George's for a vat of chips. My good pal and local progressive rock leg-end Mr Lee Abraham had finally made it to a Hi-On gig at The Brook. An absolute joy catching up with you sir! After a cheeky pint with Lee it was time to wig up and get going. No Eddie tonight sadly - he was busy terrorizing Germans in a field somewhere!

The gig itself went well. I had several Brown Notes sending my solos spiralling out of control, and thusly didn't enjoy myself very much. Making mistakes is all well and good, but being consistently rubbish all night is not something that's bound to make you feel good!! That said, the performance overall was splendid. Dugginson had an absolute belter, as did the rest of my cohorts. Mr McBrain threw in a couple of interesting fills to keep us on our toes, especially that little unexpected break in the middle of Murders! Highlights of the night for me were The Prisoner, and Rainmaker which we had never played with this line-up before. Speed "womb room" Harris and I had played it previously at some of my very first gigs as Manic Gers back in November 2003, but I don't believe it had been aired since then. Lovely bits from Mr Murray in there! No sound clips from this weekend I'm afraid folks as there were a few technical difficulties with the sound recording we gained on Swifty's trusty minidisc recorder.

After the gig it was time to pack down. Very slowly! I got all me gear squared away and went to join the publican and his crew at the bar. Unfortunately missing the load-out (honest, when I turned around all the gear was gone off the stage.........), I had a good ol' chat to Bryn and the other charming folks of The Brook (including sound man Jake - top job sir). (At least I think it was Jake. It's been two weeks as I write this!). Then it was a two-hour drive back to Manic Towers for a spot of beer and some kip. I jumped in the Harris family bus and sped off with Speed, realising about ten minutes into the journey that I was busting for a piss. The relief at the other end was spectacular!

I awoke the next morning to be greeted with the news that I was now an uncle. I celebrated this with a yawn, an expulsion of gas and a cup of coffee. Once the rest of the lads were awake we ambled down into Dartford town for a slap-up breakfast. Poor Swifty couldn't quite manage his, and he was somewhat bloated for the return journey. In order to avoid him destroying the lav at Manic Towers I suggested a cheeky pint in one of my local watering holes. A pint of wonderous ale in the back garden of The Royal Oak was in order, followed by another in the Rose & Crown at the top of the hill. Whilst Swifty, Dugginson and I supped on our ale, Messrs Harris and McBrain chucked sharp things at a coloured circle.

Jim Bowen just out of shot...



A Swift pint



Upon returning we had a butchers at Flight 666, which I had not seen yet. Highly enjoyable, with McBrain Jnr shouting out the names of just about everybody in it! In no time at all it was 5pm and time to roll out to Maidenstone. Flaming Henry's provided us with a nice gig upon our last visit 2 years ago (check out the diary from that weekend on our forum...somewhere!). The only thing we weren't looking forward to was the upstairs load-in / downstairs load-out. Gritting our teeth we lugged the gear up the stone steps and through the upstairs kitchen towards the concert hall. The public address system looked a little sad, and had apparently been left on all night much to the dismay of the sound-man. As the rest of us wouldn't be mic-ed up, the naff system was causing Mr Dugginson much fluster. It does massively suck knowing that no-one will be able to hear your remarkable talents as a musician. One speaker stack seemed to be working, the other not. The red mist was rising, so I quickly set up and retired to the dressing room not wanting to be Bruce's next victim!!!

Backstage antics I...



II...



III...



IV...



V...



VI



The gig itself was well played by all members, but to a teeny tiny audience. This was the cause of some consternation amongst us Hi-On chaps, as the gig had been rescheduled twice because the venue had apparently not received our posters and thusly couldn't advertise. We arrived to find that they had received our posters, put up a few of their own and assumed people would just turn up. This was a crying shame as the gig last time had been fairly well attended and received rapturously. Such is life, it seems. My personal diary from the evening sums it up thusly: "Good gig, no audience, shit P.A.". Not a lot more to say, really!

We sat around drinking for roughly three weeks before finally giving into our fate and lugging all the gear back downstairs. Not anyone's idea of fun, but at least the load-out wasn't upstairs. That would be killer. Nicko went home with his mother and Mr Harris bid us farewell at the base of the stairs. Swifty, Duggan and I buggered off back to mine and enjoyed a Pink Floyd DVD with some beer before turning in for the night.

That's it from us until September, which sees us doing a mini-tour of Yorkshire. Looking forward to some nice views and some even nicer beer!

Til then, up the irons!

Dave "Uncle Manic" Hurry

HI-ON KETTERING - 4 July 2009 - INCLUDING LIVE TRACKS

HI-ON KETTERING

From the 1500 to Corby

Back to Sawyers! We had a great time last year at this venue and I expect an even better night this time round.

My day started off easy with a mild hangover thanks to a booze-filled night of music composition the night before. Another scorchingly hot day, made even more onerous by the heavy rucksack and Gibson Les Paul Studio in a hardcase which had to be transported to a luthier in Westbourne Park. Avoid Denmark Street. They ruin guitars. This particular guitar has a tiny hump in the neck, which is not a mssive problem. I'm told this fella can do wonders with gutiars, so I've left my new baby in his hands until Wednesday when I need to pick it up for another rehearsal. Yes, Manic has been a busy boy during Hi-On's downtime! In the last few months I formed another metal covers band, joined a London-based singer-songwriter's group as guitarist and keyboard player, formed a minimalist/post-rock group and continued to write my own material. Music is the best, kids.

Leaving Dartford on the slowest train there is, I started listening to Maiden and making mental notes. It's been a long time since I played any (except The Trooper, which is a song the other covers band do). I'm very nervous about tonight. Will my fingers remember what they're supposed to do? Will it be odd returning to a Fender Stratocaster after months of playing nothing but a Les Paul? I should arrive at around 4pm to meet Bruce "stick it on t'end of yer feller" Dugginson who has been pottering around Northamptonshire on his own this afternoon.

--------------

Later

I arrived at the venue to find Duggers hard at work in the dressing room scribbling lyrics out. Mister Bruce has been busy himself singing with several bands both original and covers. With a voice like that, it's no wonder he's in demand. This man's voice makes me wonder what it would have been like had Hi-On been fronted by him from the off - he's in a different league from just about every other singer I've ever had the privelege to share the stage with (especially that Biggest Dickinson fella....he was rubbish as Swindon fans can testify!!!)

Duggers...



The rest of the band weren't far behind, and soon enough Adrian "would you rather die or have a fish shoved up your arse?" Swift trundled up in the hired Van of No Terror and Quite Acceptable Radio Reception. Having decided to wait for the other two before unloading the gear we settled down for a pint in the sunshine. Sure enough, the bass player arrived next. His nickname needs a line to itself, as it's quite hard to imagine it casually dropped in a sentence somewhere:

Speed "I'm going to get me a big, big, big, big, big car, then I'm gonna drive, drive, drive, I'm gonna drive so far up your boulevard" Harris



After berating me briefly for my recent ironic choices in headwear (flat cap and aviators are not such a good look, it turns out!), we were joined by Nicko "I came on Eileen" McBrain Jnr. Nicko's lovely mum Linda had brought a chaperone in the form of young Jack, a fine upstanding young lad in a rather striking checked shirt. After chatting for a bit we began to haul the noisy things from the back of the van. It's at times like this that I feel for poor Mister Swift, who has to load all this in the van by himself in Hull before setting off to a gig. In no time at all we were set up and ready to go. Big Ginger (forgotten his name again!!) the sound man is a diamond, letting us play as loud as we want (well, as loud as Mr Dugginson will let us!) and even recording the show for us on minidisc, the fruits of which will be spotted throughout this diary in what I hope will become a regular feature. (Note to Swifty - don't lose yer minidisc recorder!)

Gear stage left...



...and stage right.



As much as we love playing these songs, we do need to change it up every now and then and try some songs we haven't done for a long time (or at all). This week's candidate was the climactic Only The Good Die Young from Maiden's seventh studio effort. I had completely forgotten to learn this, but managed to get my fingers round it perfectly well on first go save the solo at the end, which required a quick listen on the ol' iPod. There's a particularly tricky run of notes in Swifty's solo which I must give props to him for pulling off.

It's been quite a while since the last gig. I had spent most of the journey with the strange feeling that I'd left something behind. Maybe I'd forgotten to lock the front door or left the iron on. Then, while loading the Marshall cabs in, it hit me. I'd only gone and left me wig at home! "Oh, bother" you might think. To be perfectly honest, I wasn't that worried. Knowing that a heatwave gig in a packed pub can cause physical problems at the best of times, I knew I'd be much happier without any headgear on this particular evening. There just so happened to be a 'general store' over the road which had, bizarrely, a number of wigs in the window! Lucky for me, it was shut...



After a few rehearsal songs in soundcheck we naffed off for a bite to eat. I was amazed at how tight we were after the two month break between gigs. On the train on the way in, I'd listened to a spot of Maiden and to be honest I wasn't that up for playing it. Of late I've been somewhat musically overworked! However as soon as we launched into 2 Minutes To Midnight in soundcheck I instantly remembered why I love this band so much. There's a unique chemistry to this band now that there never was in the past - we're so much more than the sum of the parts these days. Magic!

Mister Swift likes his dinner, but what's Bellamy selling? Birth to teens?



Moseying back to the venue I did a quick string change on my back-up guitar and got ready to go on. I will admit it felt a little bit weird out onstage without the wig on in this band, but oddly liberating at the same time - I didn't feel nearly as much of a prat as I normally do! The gig was a blinder, despite the sweltering heat we soldiered on. As Big Ginger rightfully pointed out, the LED changer lights were much more welcome than scorching PAR cans would have been! Only The Good... went down well, as did Flash Of The Blade. It's nice to do some slightly more unusual ones that Maiden don't play live, and those songs were definitely highlights for me. Duggers was having a bit of a microphone issue - the man's voice keeps killing his wireless mic! Some sort of deal ought to be made with Shure, methinks - "Build me an indestructible microphone!". Might have to have a word at Music Live in November... Eddie "want me Tina Turner wig?" The 'Ead made an appearance, which is always welcome. Old 'Ed decided to loan me his wig, which caused much hilarity onstage - the words Rod and Stewart were mentioned!

With Sawyers suitably rocked to the core, we went and wrung ourselves out in the changing room. My gig clothes are still not dry, and it's now two days later! An absolutely cracking gig, with some familiar faces in the crowd (lovely to see Kay, John, Carmel and Jason!). After some generously provided beers we carted the gear off and said goodbye to Messrs Harris and McBrain who went off to their respective homesteads, while Swifty, Duggers and I retired to the nearest Travelodge. The next morning we checked out the recording, blew off extensively in the hotel room and enjoyed a Little Chef brekkie. Top hole.

Brilliant to be back at it. Two more gigs this month, August off for holidays then back with a vengeance in September to ride out the year with several trips abroad (and even up north!). Until next time...

Dave "baldy Murray" Hurry

GOCSTOCK IV - Passport to Redwood

(Photos to be added later)

First, an introduction.

A very lovely friend of mine by the name of Georgina O'Callaghan (otherwise known as Goc) essentially owns a forest. A whole forest. A God-be-praised "Gerroff my laaaand!" forest, with an abundance of trees and insects. Each year Goc holds a festival on the site which usually entails a spot of camping, a lot of drinking and music a-plenty. While it's always a cracking way to spend a weekend, this year was above and beyond.

Not only were the stops pulled out, they were thrown in the flippin' campfire.

My 'Stock experience began on Thursday in the early afternoon. I lugged my stuff to the main stage, which was covered in hippies. Said stage was an enormous Bedouin-style tent, with a raised stage at the front and various crazy cushions strewn about the place. The bearer of my second home (a large-ish tent dubbed "Le Chateau") was to arrive later, so I set my tools down and went for a canter around the site. Goc "dude, I'm f*cking wrecked" O'Callaghan zoomed past in the distance on the phone, no doubt battling with the council. A little further into the woods I found her partner-in-crime taking out a tree with his hammer of justice. Sasha "don't ask me how I'm doing" Zivojinovic was setting up the pathway lighting with a team of two. I helpfully stood about doing very little on the whole while all the hard work went on in front of me. Dave "are you hungover yet?" Hazell and Wolf "ZILTOID!" Alexander were also bashing things about into working condition, and the Psychedeliyurt was also arriving. Things were getting in the swing, so in the spirit of the 'Stock I picked up my ukulele and did my wandering minstrel bit around the forest. In the midst of playing a few songs for the trees, I spotted Dave Hazell on his way to make a deposit. It seems that bears do shit in the woods after all.

The local authority, who had granted Goc and Sasha the license to hold their event months ago, decided to intervene at the last minute. It seems as though the Environmental Health department don't talk to the Entertainment Licenses folk. The phone call had come in earlier on Thursday informing Goc that there would be a health and safety inspection at 11:30am Friday morning. We got together and had a little chat about the whole shebang. I have a few relevant qualifications and invited the organisers to direct the inspectors in my direction if they needed a bit of extra blagging. After a check round the site for anything stupidly obvious and shifting a few nailed planks, I monged out somewhere waiting for the rest of the Thursday 'Stockers to arrive. Ross "better than Communism" Burton arrived with our tent in tow, along with some of the booze we had shopped for that morning. The Biggest-Tent-In-The-World-that-isn't-really-that-enormous had also arrived, courtesy of Beth "I've already vommed twice" Ellard who was not staying that evening due to work commitments in the morning. Beth, Ross and I set about erecting the structure with varying degrees of success and lots of swearing. David "SAMOSAS!" Sharpe lent a hand and we polished off the porch. Ross and I couldn't be arsed to set up our own so we sorted out the air-beds (luxury / deluxe) and elected to squat in Beth's tent that evening. With that done, it was officially Pimms o'clock. The rest of the evening was spent mucking about in the woods and by the campfire, where a good jam session happened (I even brought out the Stylophone - fun, but irritating!). At some point, sleep occurred.

Up early on Friday morning to greet the health and safety inspectors, I had a mosey round picking up rubbish, disposing of / hiding flint and generally tidying up a bit. Goc literally only had an hour to spare for these guys, and they were massively late. And jobsworth-y. They did raise a couple of salient points, but generally I got the impression that they just wanted to lord it over us all. Either that or they wanted an excuse to get out of the office on a Friday morning. At any rate it was a waste of time. Everything reasonably practicable had been done or was being done. The enormous generator arrived, and things started getting hooked up to power. While that was going on, Burton and I made Le Chateau appear. Not the easiest pitch in the world but we managed it without too much swearing. Mr Hazell needed a hand getting some techy bits and bobs, so we made an off-site excursion out of it. Nipping to Sainsburys in Otford for lunch, festival booze and a poo, I ran into a couple of family members unexpectedly doing their shopping 12 miles away from home. I smell a rat. My family are spying on me. Or they're raptors. Or both.

Back on site (after a bit of sat-nav confusing - one of the hippies had pranged his motor and blocked the best route in!) the punters had started arriving. Gocstock had started. I nabbed myself a coffee from the Solar Café, and strolled around getting ready to perform. Sharpey and I were opening with a short acoustic set, so a quick rehearsal in the bell tent ensued. After ironing out a few kinks we were ready to go. Tuning that 12-string is a nightmare - I should have listened to Sharpey and changed the strings. Idiota. C'est la vie. On we went! The music began, and the setlist looked like this:

Again & Again (a Sharpe original)
Hitchin' A Ride
The Kids From Kibble And The Fist Of Light
Kid Gloves
Happy Birthday, Dear Shivani
Rubber Lover

We went down a storm, and even had an offer to open for a certain other artist's album launch show in August! More on that later. After a short break it was my turn to bust out some solo tunes. I had decided to bring a load of instruments with me to distribute amongst the audience so people could play along. Keeping those tunes simple and in C was a must! I had also been given numerous requests beforehand, so most of this setlist was by popular demand and went down very well accordingly. The set ran thusly:

When You Give Your Love To Me
Born To Run
Swing Life Away
Gracie
American Pie
It's The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)
(at this point instruments were dished out)
Five Years Time
Common People
Don't Stop Believing (you know, that Journey song)
Such Great Heights
Cat & Mouse (with Thea Ford)
So Long (with Thea Ford)

The reception was unbelievable - with so many people singing along and some awesome work from those with instruments, I was a very happy camper. But that wasn't it for the evening, not by a long shot. Thursday night's secluded campfire jam with Wolf had included a rather nice version of "Summer of '69", and Wolf had asked me on Friday if I'd get up onstage with him to perform this for the audience. Another great reception, Wolf Alexander is one talented man. I hope to work with him more in future!

The rest of the evening was a success, and I already knew this would turn out to be the best Gocstock ever. There were some insanely talented people onstage, and the atmosphere couldn't be beaten. David "flat battery" Riley turned up late due to a vehicular malfunction, and various other friends turned up throughout the evening. Once music had ceased on the main stage, I was summoned to lead the campfire singalong where I threw out a good hour's worth of crowd-pleasers before passing the buck on. Another gig under the belt, though don't ask me about the setlist for this one as I haven't the foggiest! All I remember is Victoria "PLAY JOURNEY!" Barry demanding that I run through that same song again. Thankfully she didn't ask for it every five seconds this year! After handing over the torch I grabbed some Reggae Reggae dinner and relaxed in the 'yurt, which became my spiritual home over the course of the weekend. At some point, sleep occurred.

Up early again on Saturday morning, my first gig of the day was at noon. Or, I should say, approximately at noon. It got to 11am and it suddenly occurred to me that the drumkit wasn't on-stage. Luckily I knew where Rob "Red Room" Archibald was pitched and went to grab him. Eventually prising him from his tent, the kit started appearing from the car. The first act on was Thea Ford, a stunning singer-songwriter currently based in London town. I auditioned as guitarist a month or two ago without realising that this group were also playing at Gocstock. I'm rather excited to be a part of this project, along with the effervescent Mark O'Neill on bass and Thea's chap Nevin Sood of Balthazaar Mandrake filling in on t'drums. The gig went on more-or-less on time, with the setlist running as follows:

You Got Me
Dear Bully
You Said
So Long
Zombie
Cat & Mouse
Made Of You
One Day Soon
22

Thea's MySpace will soon be updated with finished studio cuts - demos can be heard at http://www.myspace.com/theaford

Another good reception, though not a particularly communicative one as several (scratch that) every single audience member was nursing a hangover! A steadfast performance from all concerned, with one minor smelly moment occurring in Zombie - poor Nev thought we'd finished during the guitar solo, robbing me of my glorious moment. Disgraceful. Bloody drummers! We were followed by the quite frankly amazing Bathroom Sally (http://www.myspace.com/bathroomsally), who blew my mind. Unfortunately I couldn't check out the whole set as I had to get ready for my next (and thankfully last!) gig of the weekend. Curse These Metal Hands were making their debut, and I had stage gear to get into!

Sasha flibbled up to the stage looking as if he might literally drop dead at any second. The poor boy had been working his ass off along with his Kit Kaboodle Kolleagues, and it was certainly taking it's toll. Where he found the energy to rock the gig I have absolutely no idea. Goc later told me it was fruit drops and sugar. Whatever it was, it works - that man plays circles round me as a guitarist. After Rob spent roughly six months setting up his kit, we rocked forth with the following set:

Always & Never
Accident of Birth
The Trooper
Taking The Queen
Metallica Medley - i. Orion ii. Master Of Puppets iii. Creeping Death
There's No Such Thing As A Jaggy Snake (featuring David Sharpe)
Jesus of Suburbia
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I wasn't enamored with the early part of the gig, but we rocked things out sufficiently and by the end we were on top form. A HUGE thanks to the rest of the lads for agreeing to do some silly metal, and a bigger thanks to the audience for putting up with guitar tuning!!! The minute poor Sasha put his guitar down he died a death and was bundled off back home to recharge his batteries.

Mayfly Trio took the stage and I collapsed in a bit of a heap. I think I was a bit burned out myself, having played 5 gigs in under 24 hours. Looking back on it now it was a bit of a marathon! I could quite happily leave the guitar alone for a week or two now. After the Trio I went and had a lie down in my tent for an hour or so. UpCDownC were fun from where I was, but were probably massively too loud at the main stage. I came back recharged and went to grab some Reggae Reggae dinner once again (that stuff is like crack). The wonderful Their Hearts Were Full Of Spring (http://www.myspace.com/theirheartswerefullofspring) had been delayed, so the equally wonderous Green Rock River Band took the stage an hour early to keep us all sated. Check them out here - http://www.myspace.com/thegreenrockriverband. I simply can't say enough good things about these two bands. Pete "better than cannabis" Heaney fell massively in love with one of the young Hearts ladies. I tried to convince him to tell her how he felt, but he was a little bit shy. Kaplick, who had been running the solar cafe by the main stage and plying me with brandy infused coffee all weekend, were the last act on. Very early Porcupine Tree vibe, which I enjoyed immensely. The rest of my evening was spent chilling in the 'Yurt with various people, and enjoying some impromptu jazz at the Gin Palace. I do vaguely remember some card playing with Dave "gorilla" Diedo and Richard "you're for it, you are" Gush, but by that point I'd had the best part of a box of Banrock Station and was therefore a little the worse for wear.

At some point, hideously loud snoring occurred.

The festival was a complete success. The woods, music, my friends, wine, music, Reggae Reggae sauce, wine, music, Psychedeliyurt, gorillas, no rain, wine and music! Love it. Love you!

Chrissy H

HI-ON PONTYPOOL - 25 April 2009

HI-ON PONTYPOOL

April has been a frustrating month for the Hi-On boys. Four gigs had originally been in the book, but due to factors outside our control this had been whittled down to one. Apologies again to anyone who was planning to venture to High Wycombe, Maidstone or indeed Camberley (including the posse coming from Worcester!) - these are all in the rescheduling phase. The current economic climate is making venues and promoters alike a little more cautious. Thankfully, the recession doesn't seem to have reached as far as South Wales!

Another lengthy journey from Manic Towers has begun, and as I type I am sat aboard the train out of Paddington whisking me towards Newport. It's good to be intentionally en route to Wales - last time I wound up in Newport it was due to drunkenly getting on the wrong train at Swindon!!! No time for the obligatory pint of Guinness at Paddington, in fact barely time for a cup of cheap tasty filter coffee before boarding the train. This particular train seems to have been put together by some illiterate paeon, as the carriages from front to back are lettered A, B, E, D, C, F, G, H! Figure that one out.

Dartford...



...Paddington...



...and cheap coffee!



The first portion of the journey was spent editing together a written history of this band. Look out for this going on the website soon, as soon as Adrian "there's free drink, there's free drink!" Swift can get it up. As it were.

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Stonkingly, upon arrival at the venue I found a Lord-be-praised Hammond organ upstairs. HALLELUJAH! Mister Hurry was a happy boy. There I sat, armed with nothing but a pint of Guinness and my short chubby fingers, and attacked the beast with what must have been a good hour or so of prog rock keyboard machinations. There I was when Speed "it's good being small" Harris turned up with mini-Speed (no, not Duggers) in tow. Our quarters not only had plastic ivories to tinkle, but was also kitted out with drums. Some of you may note from Mr Harris's bio on the main site that he started out as a drummer, and much of the time between their arrival and the rest of the band rolling up was spent knocking out Hammond and drum arrangements of Maiden classics. We should have recorded the whole thing. As Speed rightly pointed out, it would have made for an awesome Hawkwind album.

Hammond and Guinness...



Speed 'did a Jamie' and wandered off with his little'un just a short while before the Van of Wonder and Not So Much Terror As The Other One turned up with the rest of the group. Adrian "where's the Jäger?" Swift had managed to pinpoint the venue a whole hour-and-a-half after the normal 5pm arrival time, which is in fairness pretty good for him! Around the same time my pal Andy from Caerdydd turned up, who I haven't seen for many years - at least not since Maiden played the Birmingham NEC on the Dance of Death tour! Good to see you mate, don't be a stranger!

Local lads "Bag of Bones" were in the support slot tonight, and patiently waited while we loaded the gear in and set up for a little run-through Flash of the Blade, which didn't even go into the setlist! As we were running a bit late and had a support act, the set had to be truncated slightly to meet the 11pm noise curfew. This isn't a big deal at all, unless you're a mad old bat in Ipswich. No decibel meters in Pontypool however, and once we were set up and checked we headed off upstairs to get ready. The Bones boys warmed up the crowd a treat, and in no time at all it was time to wig up and get on with it.

First off, what a crowd! Lively isn't the word for it. During the first song or two there was a bit of a cat-fight going on in front of Swifty, which I believe resulted in some spillage all over his foot pedals. No user errors occured, so hopefully all is well down there! Yours truly had forgotten his earplugs, and was having trouble hearing himself while trying to stay away from standing in front of his amplifier. In a small place like this, you tend not to mic up the amps. Stand in front of them, and the sound doesn't carry quite so well. Especially when your arse is as big as mine! At any rate, good performances all round. Jonno "text sex!" Lodge was on fine form as our stand-in drummer. Bruce "I love playing with this band" Dugginson was almost knocked into Jonno during last song thanks to some rather over-enthusiastic moshing from the punters, and I nearly had a glass in the face from the same incident. Despite that it was great to see the crowd having a great time and getting into it.

After the show is a bit of a blur. I know there was plenty of Guinness, countless shots of ye olde Jägermeister and probably some other stuff as well. Good times! I'm known as the band member who can hold his drink, but I must admit after drinking as much as I did I had to retire a short while before the rest of the band in order to maintain this illusion! I was awoken a little while later to find a large dog sharing the bed with me, which was most unexpected!

The next morning brought with it the prospect of packing down the gear. The Harris's had naffed off the night before - in fact I think this weekend Speed managed to get away without humping a single piece of equipment! We'll have to do something about that next time.

I waved cheerio to the van as it whisked my pals away, and wandered off to Ponty train station to start the long journey home. A thoroughly enjoyable gig. Thanks again to Jonno for stepping in for this gig, and thanks to the lovely folk at the Hog for putting us up / putting up with us / getting us wrecked. Most enjoyable, get us booked back in soon yeah?!

Homeward bound...



Back at Dartford...



Til next time,

Dave "not enough notes on this thing" Hurry

PS: Jonno, saw this on the way home and thought of you...!!!

HI-ON TAVISTOCK - 21 March 2009

HI-ON TAVISTOCK - 21 March 2009

12:30pm

On a normal working day, your humble narrator gets himself out of bed at 7am. He attempts to consume some sort of sustenance alongside a cup of tea, normally watching the news or mucking about on the internet. With his hunger satisfied he performs his ablutions, dons his suit and buggers off.

On a Saturday, his usual mantra is: "Don't wake me, I plan on sleeping in." But not this Saturday. This Saturday, which just so happens to be one equinox or the other, his weekday routine is repeated (sans suit). The journey to Tavistock is a lengthy one, and he wants to be there with time to savour a tasty pint of finest Devonshire ale with his Yorkshire bandmates who have already got most of the miles under their belts.

Dartford...



...to Paddington



The trusty interweb tells me that the nearest station to The Wharf is Gunnislake, one of the first villages past the border with Cornwall. Gunnislake is reached via Plymouth, and so I sit speeding to the west on a beautiful sunny day. I really do rather like train travel. When everything is running smoothly (which it is today thus far), it really is the most relaxing way to travel. Miles of green English countryside either side of the steel. I'll stop there before I become a trainspotter.

Looking north...



We're making a recording of tonight's show, and as such the setlist is packed with spectacular slabs of the finest Maiden we can muster. The foreknowledge that your performance is being laid down for posterity is often a daunting bit of information. I vehemently dislike making mistakes on the best of nights, and while the professional in me doesn't let a Brown Note spoil the rest of the show it is often the thing I remember most clearly afterwards. There are also a couple of solos that I nearly always trip up on because, to be honest, I'm not Dave Murray. The wig gives this away somewhat, but the fingers do more of the talking. Confidence in my own performance has never been my strong point, and although I know that I do a more than competent job in this band I do still hope Adrian "a bit of an accident with the ol' Jagermeister" Swift doesn't have to replace too many of my solos with his own more experienced fingerwork!

4:30pm

Gunnislake I...



Gunnislake II - end of the line



I arrived at 4pm to find the rest of the band already here. Thankfully this meant that practically all the gear was out of the van and on the stage, so I set up me gear in record time and fucked off back to the dressing room! Messrs Swift and Speed "your wood vibrates at G sharp?" Harris were concerning themselves with aesthetic matters, while all myself and Bruce "the scaffolders were bastards!" Dugginson wanted to do was have a cheeky pint of Tribute as we had planned to do before settling in. Perhaps time for that later. For now, having only eaten a piece of toast today I have the shakes. Some grub is sorely needed - last time we were on these grounds (which, let me say, are rather spectacular) we were treated to a barbecue. And then an argument about whether we were doing two sets or not.

Backstage I...



Backstage II - with Viz



---

8:30pm

Reading my last sentence back, it seems like a little bit of history repeating (to quote the Propellerheads). We soundchecked, had a bit of barbecue, and then an argument about whether we were doing two sets or not! Needless to say, common sense prevailed and one set was agreed on. Before going on I settled in with a pint of Tribute (found at the bar in the venue - genius!) and had a chat with Daryl and Pat who were kindly filming us from the side of the stage. They've seen most of the tribute bands who come through this venue, so we swapped stories of primadonnas and a certain Geordie c*nt for a brief while until it was time to wig up and rock out. I walked out onto the stage to turn my amplifier on (got to let those valves warm up, boys and girls) and to my astonishment the crowd was HUGE. This was going to be a good night.

A nice pint...



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Sunday 22 March - 11:00am

Bloody hell, that were a good'un. Running out onstage as the Moonchild intro kicked into gear the crowd went nuts. This is what it should be like every week!! With the current economic climate, venues are dying and people haven't been going out as much. This has been a cause of great frustration for us and other bands of our ilk. Last night was exceptional - Tavistock, you're a fucking noisy bunch! Opening up with Moonchild, I was conscious of the recording and concentrated extra hard on locking in with the rest of the band. Going for that rather splendid tapping solo I found myself nearly knocked over by Mr Dugginson, sending my fingers into a flurry of Brown Notes! Still, never mind - that's what overdubs are for! 2 Minutes followed in fine fashion, though Speed was having a few gear issues - he knocked his wireless transmitter out of his jack, which meant no thunderous bass for a few bars. It's moments like that when you realise how much that enormo-amp contributes to the sound of this band. My sound however was lovely - I don't often get the chance to crank that amp as we play slightly smaller places a lot of the time. When it's up to eleven, it's a heavenly sound that really does make me tingle in my special place. The Prisoner made a welcome repeat appearance, although I right royally ballsed up the first pre-chorus earning me a disparaging glare from Mister Swift. Recording is always a mixed bag - we could have really done with two nights but it didn't pan out that way. Revelations, always one of my favourites, was storming.

Guitar solo from another dimension...



The real treat was to follow - Flash of the Blade is becoming a bit of a speciality. That song is so much fun to play, it almost hurts. A workmanlike Number of the Beast was plowed through before we got to the one I was waiting for - Alexander the Great. When the intro tape rolled I didn't sense much reaction from the punters. However they all went absolutely barmy at the end! Definitely a crowd favourite, and a bit of a highlight for me as well with that splendid melodic middle section. Children of the Damned and Rime of the Ancient Mariner were served up next (that's right, Rime and Alex in the same show), before a classic run-out: Flight of Icarus, The Trooper, Fear of the Dark, Hallowed Be Thy Name & Iron Maiden. Eddie "tchow!" The 'Ead showed up once again, bloody knife et al, throwing the ten ton finger at his helpless Devon victims. We legged it off and waited for the right moment to hit the intro tape for what was a fairly unconventional encore opener, Aces High. Listening to the tape, I was almost convinced I'd imagined the last hour and a half and we were about to start the show! Needless to say it worked really well, as did 22 Acacia Avenue which followed. Fearing we'd be lynched if we didn't, we bunged Phantom of the Opera in at the last minute before closing out with Running Free and Run to the Hills (five song encore - that's almost Turkey-length!). Absolutely cracking. I made plenty of silly mistakes in places I never normally do, which I guess is the curse of recording. Still, should be a reasonable document of a fantastic night.

After a short post-mortem I wandered out to the bar where I was immediately set upon by rabid groupies - spectacular! Lovely bunch of people come out to the shows here, Maiden fans through and through. I remember very few names, but thanks to Clayton (who actually reads this diary - oi oi!) and his ladyfriend Jody, Paul, Andrew, Andy, the tall bloke I was talking to about Pink Floyd and his pals....all of yer! Top people. Bring even more friends next time!!! A couple of sneaky pints later it was time to pack down. I got my gear all put away and then went for a quiet sit down in the dressing room with Dugginson and Harris.

A short drive to the Travelodge, quick bit of Ginsters and it was off to sleep. Poor Mr Harris has been struck with Devil Bug, and so took my mantle as the snorer of the band. I was on the floor, having decided that the backpiece of the sofa (dubbed "The Manic Cushion") had a few too many dubious stains on it. In no time at all it was daylight and time to head off - the Yorkshire contingent have a hell of a drive ahead of them, and myself and Nicko "orrrr that's goooood." McBrain Jnr have a three-hour plus train jaunt back home to Mother's Day.

Homeward...



I will leave you with a selection of photos of Mr Dugginson, utilising a well placed domestic device to demonstrate...well, I'm sure you'll guess. Until next time, Tavistock - you fucking rock!!!

Up the irons
Dave "real ale twat" Hurry