The One I Like<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The character at pub gigs I find most irritating and at times frightening, is the fellow who comes to face you out with the stance of a pit-bull terrier and says in an aggressive tone of voice:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWOT DOO YOO DOO THEN?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I usually respond with the answer: \u201cOh you know, a bit of everything \u2026some rock covers, some blues, reggae etc. But I\u2019m just setting up now so why don\u2019t you stick around and you\u2019ll find out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This rarely appeases the chap with the bolt through his neck however as he generally wants more specific answers. \u201cDon\u2019t yoo doo any fuckin\u2019 Stevie Ray or Hendrix?\u201d comes the incredulous reply.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWell what sort of fuckin\u2019 stuff DOO YOO DOO then?\u201d he continues. By this time you\u2019re hoping that he will be so unhappy with your programme for the evening that he will leave the building.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A female member of a pub \u201caudience\u201d asked me on one occasion: \u201cDOO YOO DOO THE ONE I LIKE?\u201d. It was no use asking what epic piece of music this might be, because she wouldn\u2019t have known anyway. Where there\u2019s no sense there\u2019s no feeling etc.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Itinerant pub musos like myself also have to put up with the folks that walk up to you and shout a string of requests to your face as you\u2019re trying to sing something. It\u2019s as if they just want to press a button and change the program on the juke box but can\u2019t, as even after so many years of appalling gigs, you still vaguely resemble a human being rather than a machine\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A young girl came up to me one time whilst I was in mid-song and insisted that I play some Dolly Parton.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I said: \u201cListen, does it seem likely that I would sing Jolene or (worse still) He\u2019ll Come Again?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But she didn\u2019t understand at all and later, I overheard her saying to her boyfriend that she was amazed that I didn\u2019t play any \u201cDolly\u201d. She seemed to be suggesting that she didn\u2019t much like my manner either. Perhaps it was me telling her that I didn\u2019t do any Johnny Cash either. Hey ho.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Some years ago my old friend and voluntary roadie Stewart Browne and I were playing a really grim gig called \u201cThe Eastgate Hotel\u201d in Pembroke SW Wales. The first thing you noticed arriving at the rendered pink building was the brown stain emanating from the soil pipe attached to the gable end. Getting inside we were greeted within seconds with the old \u201cWhat doo yoo doo?\u201d routine but it seemed to have a particular menace attached to it. To put it bluntly \u2026 we were scared.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSo wot fuckin\u2019 time\u2019r yoo startin\u2019 then?\u201d the unshaven slob asked me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The impossibly thin girl who was sitting next to him was slumped over the table. He hit her round the face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWot\u2019s up wiv yoo y\u2019 fuckin\u2019 cow?\u201d he bawled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We tried to pretend we weren\u2019t there but he continued:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201c\u2019ope yer goin\u2019 t\u2019 play some decent fuckin\u2019 stuff!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMaybe we ought to get out of here,\u201d I said to Stew.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But just then a man-mountain turned up from somewhere and hauled them out of the place. He kicked them out like he was chucking the garbage into the dust cart. It was a relief.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Stewart is probably the most unlikely roadie in the business. Looking as he did on this particular occasion, rather like a Columbian drug baron it wasn\u2019t that surprising when another rough looking character sidled up to him whilst I was playing and said:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDoes \u2018e do cocaine?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo, he doesn\u2019t touch drugs\u201d, Stew replied a little testily.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201c I\u2019m not askin\u2019 if \u2018e likes the stuff, I\u2019m askin\u2019 if \u2018e fuckin\u2019 plays \u201cCocaine\u201d by Clapton\u201d came the response.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The One I Like The character at pub gigs I find most irritating and at times frightening, is the fellow who comes to face you out with the stance of<\/p>\n