Ah, my dear SP200 keyboard.
My weapon of choice, my favoured ebonite and ebonette.
Sadly hurt in battle, soon to be restored in Nottingham.
Travel well, my musical friend, come back safe after the mend.
I'll be kinder next time, knowing your frailty.
I won't bash your keys so hard.
And I'll love you that little bit more.
Be well.
Well worth a click, this image, might help with the captions.
The band who have carelessly forgotten to sack me were playing in North Durham the other Saturday. It was a great night, and over £8000 was raised for Cancer research from ticket sales, charity auction proceeds and other donations.
It really is a pleasure to be associated with such events, as they do some genuine good, and are not just expensive excuses for a great many people to get very very drunk.
Needless to say, a great many people got very very drunk - but it was in a good cause, and so perfectly fine. I seriously doubt that some of the auction lots, such as the bag of logs, would have gone for large amounts of cash without a little help from the wine and beer. Still, every little helps, as the saying goes.
So, it was a great atmosphere and our co-performer, Charlotte, did a lovely job getting everyone in the mood. I'd better not say for what. Suffice it to say that our performance, when it finally arrived, can only have been a disappointment.
That said, it could hardly have been more of a disappointment than the buffet. In this band, we sample a great many buffets - this one was the worst so far. Burnt food, dry sandwiches, cheap sausage rolls - and very little even of this inferior fare. The Derwent Manor should be ashamed of themselves.
The food did not spoil the night, because people's goodwill is far more formidable than any meanness of a hotel. Thank goodness.
On with the captions: (click on the image to biggerise it)
1) The ever lovely Chris, adorned in party balloons. One to treasure.
2) A look down onto the stage, where Tony keenly blows the lighting rig.
3) A further look down onto the dance floor, soon to be heaving. Oh yes.
4) Christine and Jason, chilling-out before the musical onslaught.
5) The disgusting spare ribs - burned to a charcoal crisp.
6) Jason attractively models the programme. Thason.
7) Katie is drinking, here. I don't know what Katie did next. She sang a bit later on, if that helps.
It was a late finish, and my car would not start as I attempted to leave. Thanks to Paul, our trumpeter, for the use of his most excellent jump leads. Waiting an hour or more for the RAC to turn up might have taken the shine off such a good evening.
OK, I admit it. I watch it and find it compulsive viewing.
Although this year, having been attracted by the initial auditions I feel a bit like I've been suckered into a mock-auction.
I don't know whether Simon Cowell has picked the eventual winner yet, but I bet he has a final three in mind. His comments are often very fair, even if negative. But then, we see him “go for the jugular” after beautiful performances like Nikitta's tonight.
I can only assume that the judges agreed it was time to clear her out. As for me, I'm disillusioned. We seem to have a highly glitzy programme that bears little resemblance to a hard-fought competition.
So, we have the contestants who look good an have a great potential image - a nice commercial look. These people seem to get praise whatever they do. Then there are the great singers who do not have a good commercial look - these people seem to get insulted no matter how well they perform.
There is a lack of honesty at work, and a relentless search for safe commercialism. I sense a fear that someone will win who does not have ongoing success, and that this will reflect badly on the programme.
This whole talent search thing should be careful lest it disappear up it's own pert bottom.
Here's someone cleverly cashing in on the theme. Not.
Folk night at the Black Pearl - with Pete. Oh yes.
If you dream of cosy nights packed into a small room full of beer-swilling, tab-smoking, guitar-playing, loud-singing folk musicians, then tonight would have very much been your night.
The undisputed star of the night was Pete - a man for whom shouting louder than anyone in the room was but a starting point. His enthusiasm, much like his singing, knows no bounds as he strikes up old favourites again and again.
Of particular note was his merciless murdering of the the Bryan Adams classic: “Everything I do, I do it for you.” I shall not quickly forget the way he forced that tune to slide over those chords. It was the musical equivalent to fingernails on the blackboard.
That said, much of the rest of the music was great, and many of us joined in on bits of percussion, or in TL's case micro-harmonica and tin whistle (plastic). Rebecca put in a brief appearance and delivered a strong egg, as ever.
Jason sang a total of three hauntingly beautiful songs, leaving most of the room in tears. Certainly, no-one was laughing. A touching moment.
As the event wound up, I filmed the closing moments, along with the now inevitable exploding of Pete's head.
Enjoy.
Night night, everyone.
I'm having a good time up here in the North East.
Playing as part of the show band is getting easier and more rewarding as I slowly learn the music well enough to perform it. It annoys me that I am so slow to properly learn things of any complexity. I need to be alone with the music for each song for a while, and listen to it in my head, as well as jotting down a few cryptic reminders for myself.
Once I have gone through this process, I am fine. The upshot of this necessity is that when coming to something completely fresh, I appear almost useless - and that is pretty accurate. Hopefully, before tonight's first proper performance I will have been through the entire thing sufficiently carefully to play in a useful and reasonably convincing way.
I'll let you know.
I play keyboards in a band called “Soul Doubt”.
That's nearly true. Strictly speaking, I only play one keyboard, but it is attached to a smashing box of tricks which plays many sounds, so maybe that is just as good.
Anyhow, that is not the point. The point is that I have been separated from my studio for a few weeks now - I don't know how long exactly, but it is starting to feel like an eternity.
I am lucky in having access to a lovely piano here. I even sometimes claim that this piano is the real reason I got together with TL. It's a beauty. Very mellow and soft-jazz-like.
The trouble is, that sometimes I like to rock out at very high volume with a nasty bright funky piano. I can do this with Soul Doubt, and so I look forward to the forthcoming gigs.
They give me a chance to really let fly in the most appropriate and satisfying way. I really do find that music reaches me when nothing else can. More than that, it satisfies a part of me that nothing else does.
I can't imagine being truly cut-off from music. For me, that would be the most complete hell.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Now, turn to page 14 in your workbooks, and comment on the following:
a) What touches you that nothing else can?
b) Is music important to you?
c) What do you feel passionate about?
Remember to spell correctly and use black ink.
Please hand in your work ASAP. Marks will be awarded.
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