Rocksalts - where to start? Maybe the night before, when we went down the (still open!) Gritti Palace to see Duncan dj, but thereby missed Regular John's last-minute warm-up gig at Smugglers (Reuben and Rufus informed us in time, though, via phone and text). Lee and Carolyn were already over from Brighton for the weekend; me, Caroline and Kim made-up the Hastings crew, but there was actually hundreds of people sitting outside the Gritti too (including Tara, and Maya) either soaking up the gorgeous evening sun, or grabbing possibly one of the last remaining days on the Pier, in case it stays shut soon. We all took it fairly easy though, because of the long day ahead in Rye.
That Saturday morning itself was a bit of a rush trying to get organised and ready: Reuben rang me again to see if I was going to compere (I didn't know) and if I wanted to help him with the djing (I did). Lee, Carolyn and I all got the same train from Hastings to Rye, bumping into Greg Mulhearn in the carriage (which was handy for him, as Mookie were scheduled to play later, and Greg didn't know where the festival site was). Once in Rye, we stopped off in Budgens, then walked around the outside clockwise to the Salts, and made our way across site to the stalls and the shade of the trees. I bumped into Paul, and he asked if I was still ok to compere: as I was, he and Plum gave me a quick site-tour, and filled me in on some of the info about the day: I also grabbed the programme and a copy of the compilation cd (mp3 files, on a cd-r, in a dvd case), which was selling at £7, so I gave a tenner to the funds. At the top end of the field, a tent marquee had been set up with a beer stall, and a small stage in one corner (Harry was running this stage). At the far end of the field was a much larger stage, complete with covering, pa system, lighting rig, etc: this was the main stage I was to compere from. Reuben was trying to set up Wookie's decks front of stage (not wholly succesfully: he had to borrow bits of equipment from the dj from Bristol's Lower Case, who was happy to lend them), and I got some more groundwork sorted with Spoon (who had the daunting task of running this main stage). Once I'd got the idea of what was going on, I sat back down under the trees at the side with Lee and Carolyn, where we were gradually joined by the Rumiko boys, Julian Wallinger (who was filming much of the event), Reuben's mate Fred, and other passing friends. Because of the late arrival of some crucial cable-cover matting, proceedings on the main stage were late starting, so the first music we heard was from The Red Shift, out of sight to us in the marquee. Last time I saw them play (a while ago at The Carlisle) I was really taken by their enthusiasm, although without the visuals their pop/ska jaunts were less attention-grabbing. Carrie and Tom then turned up with Barney, who was enjoying an early music festival, but not his first. Eventually, things on the main stage were ready, so I made my way around the barriers and up onto the stage to make the introductory announcements. Even though the field was thinly populated at the time, I still had that half-second's pause, where I suddenly wondered what the hell it was I was supposed to be doing up there, but then I just decided I'd have to say something, so I welcomed the public to the event, and shouted-out Drowning By Numbers' name as an intro (this became my pattern for the day: mumble a bit, shout band name, leave stage quick). Drowning By Numbers were a decent young rock band, though they were weaker when they tried some ice-breaking comedy covers (Sex Bomb etc) that may work well in a bar with your mates, but fell pretty flat in a large empty field on a sunny day. Some of the others also went to check out Gunmetal on the second stage, and had generally good things to report of them, but I decided it would be best mostly to stay as close to the main stage as possible during the day, in case I was needed in any kind of hurry. The next group to introduce was Noxious, who ground away at some tuneful metallic grunge-rock. Further up the field, I noticed many more of our friends (Lisa, Helen, Gillian, Alfie, Hayley, Josie etc) were turning up, and seating themselves on some of the circles of haybales that had been provided. Rather than do a great deal of socialising, though, I continued to alternate between watching the main stage acts, and popping behind the barriers to discuss bits and pieces with Reuben and Spoon. Wookie was around by now, taking the opportunity to get some more photography practise in on the day, both for all our benefit, and for his journalism training. Next I introduced Purple Bubble (having confirmed that they had no 'The' in their name, in a very confused conversation with their singer), who were a much quirkier guitar group, with a lot of self-deprecating chat (and, also, a few good-natured digs at everyone else) At Paul and Plum's request, I'd also welcomed Tony's Rolling Stones Ice Cream Van onto site (true: it's a working ice cream van covered in loads of the Stones' Lips logos), though I then had to balance things out by indicating the tricycle ice cream vendor who'd been there all day, on my next turn onstage. I'd been fielding the odd text and phone call from Petra during the afternoon, as she and her friends made their way over from Brighton to Rye, and I noticed that they'd at last made it onto site. I went up to the marquee stage and caught some of Hayley's solo set, which she performed to a very attentive crowd of our friends. I went out for a wander, chatted to people like Kim, and then it was time to introduce another band, The 5-40's. I'd been carrying half a quiche around all day, left over from the small picnic lunch I'd brought along: I'd had more than I wanted, so I decided to give it away and concentrate on a can of beer that Reuben had given me instead. After several declined offers, I eventually caught up with Petra and her friends, and they took the food off me. As to whether they actually ate it, I don't know, as The Crayons had begun on the marquee stage, so I went and sat down and watched the remainder of their set. They played some good new songs really well, and were as personally amiable as ever, though they were facing a near-empty tent (possibly 'cos it was teatime). On the main stage, there were few people watching The 5-40's either, though the band had a loyal crowd of friends larking about with a giant inflatable ball stage-front. With their primary-coloured fashion-sense, and reliance on one-finger Moog melodies, the group were the closest thing we'd seen for a long time to the sort of band we played in when we were their age (in fact, with me, Michael and Lee already there, and Dan on his way over from Eastbourne, we considered trying to get Paul all the way over from Brighton for an emergency Duplo reunion, but this was never likely to happen instantaneously). Caroline at last joined us, having had to take a squitty-kitty to the vets, and I had a quick chat with Sally and Helen too; whilst The 5-40's ended their set by jumping offstage and fighting with their fans, which was very endearing really. I hung about backstage with Matt & Bonj for a while (the rest of the 'John, along with their friends and partners, had turned up by now), and got introduced to another Matt, who'd designed the distinctively-psychedelic Rocksalts artwork (nice fella), while Fracture set up. The group decided to start their set straight after their soundcheck, which relieved me of compering duties for a little while. Fracture were a widescreen melodic rock group, with a full-throated lead singer giving it some moves, and so they at least made some success in reaching across the steadily-filling field. After their set, however, the rain that had been scatteringly threatening all afternoon finally came down in a storm, sending all the punters back to the marquee (much to the probable delight of Alfie, who was onstage at the time), whilst we tried to get all the bits of gear and cables covered up successfully. Lower Case were also due on the main stage next, which required some shifting around of the dj decks, so Reuben's skills weren't needed for a bit, leaving the hired sound crew to supply their own cd entertainment (much more MOR than Reuben's 60's/70's nuggets). Lower Case's two mc's and dj were going to be accompanied live by Si Ham & Matt Jukes (Ch3vy), Jim and Billy: I did a bit of a check to see if they needed to be introduced, but, as I had thought, their mc's were able to do a much better job of bigging themselves up, when the rain finally moved on, and the marquee tent disgorged it's punters. The Hastings backing group have all put plenty of time in over the years with various funk groups (Bubba, the Rufus Stone Band) and so fitted seamlessly with Lower Case's entertainingly bouncing rhythms and verses. The mc's were pretty damn funny too. I knew there was an impromptu set by The A Team starting as a suprise straight after Lower Case (as Bill and Matt were already playing onstage), so I took some of the food and drink tokens Michael had given me (he had spares from the handful he'd been given as an artists' courtesy) and joined the (very slow-moving) queue for a couple of burgers for Carolyn and I. The two skaters running the food stall were doing the best they could in the face of a lot of customer-demand, which at least meant I had plenty of time to chat to Reuben, Fred, Del and another skater called Sam while I was waiting. I hadn't realised I was wanted onstage at this time though, meaning Paul had to introduce The A Team after all (he wasn't joining them, for a change, so the group became Bill, Matt, Rufus and Bonj on this occasion). Just three short tv-themes later (oh, how the crowd love them!) and I had my burgers, but the band were moving offstage already. Carolyn had been offsite to pick up some bottles of wine for everyone too (except Lee, who wasn't drinking today), so it was definately tea-time. Dan and Pip, as well as Matt and Elliott, had made it over to the festival by now, so we had a chat, before I went backstage again to see if any more introductions were needed yet. This Project, on next, wanted to start themselves without an intro, so I went over and had a chat to Petra and her friend Gemma under the trees, mostly interrupted by Barney trying to impress them with his best junior-Tarzan moves. The women were on their way off to get some rest, having not warmed to many (if any) of the day's rock bands (and This Project's epic heavy-prog excursions weren't going to change their minds) so we said goodbye, and I carried on swinging from the trees with Barney 'til I got tired (long before he was ever going to). Back on the field, I swigged away at the wine, and could hear very promising psych sounds coming from The Higher State up there on the marquee stage, but my duties were now to be ready to introduce Regular John, which I haltingly did (those few hours without compering had already started bringing the nerves back, but after this point enough wine started kicking-in that it wouldn't be a problem again). Despite seemingly only having one set-list, in the possession of Pete (an improvement of sorts on Rumiko, who'd left their pre-planned lists back in the Basement or somewhere, necessitating a rather wasted Rufus to have to think of a new set and rewrite it out in pentaplate, or whatever the word would be), Regular John played a fierce set of favourites, that friends such as Alis managed to execute dance-moves to throughout. Meanwhile, Reuben and a couple of his mates fought like wild-things with the aid of some of those haybales (the first hit, taken by Reuben in his back, was magnificent: mainly 'cos he was watching the band, and was unaware that a wild woman was bearing down on him at top speed, wielding an enormous bale of hay: thwack!). At one point, it looked like the festival-wardens were going to step in and break things up, but fortunately the kids stopped in time: in fact, neither the ambulance, nor the occasional visiting police officers, had to be called upon all day. At Spoon's request, I did some more words after Regular John's set, partly to indicate that the bands had finished (a marker we should have thought about doing earlier really) and partly because soon the main stage entertainment would be over, and we needed to put the information in the crowd's heads that the focus of the festival would then shift to the marquee stage. As Reuben and I had already arranged, I joined in on the djing between Regular John and Rumiko Jr's final main stage slot: cocking up a bit with the faders, struggling when the power went down unexpectedly and slowly, but generally managing ok (we even got the Jesus & Mary Chain's version of The Pink Floyd's bootleg-only Vegetable Man on, in late-tribute to Syd Barrett, who The Crayons had unfortunatle missed from their earlier shout-out's to recently-deceased rock-stars). When Rumiko were ready, I ran back round from the decks and onto the stage to make the introductions, then grabbed Reuben and went out front to join everyone watching. And it really was everyone now: the attendees having noted that Rumiko were going to be their last chance at seeing a live band for the day. There was all sorts of unusual people enjoying Rumiko, from toddlers, to long-haired secondary-schoolkids, to the wardens, to middle-aged guys with peculiar dance-moves, plus just about everyone we knew there. Down at the barriers, Barney at last got to see all his friends in Rumiko play a gig together, whilst Caroline, Anna, Wookie, Julian etc took plenty of photos and footage of the onstage action. Dean did the right thing and invited Alfie up on stage with them: the lad leapt over the barriers and up to the mic with his harmonica in a leap and a bound (especially impressive as I got the feeling, when I collared him and Robert back in the audience afterwards, that he was pissed right-up). So we were treated to big-band, full-on Rumiko country-rocking, which was a great way to end the evening out there: a couple of encore numbers later (both covers, the main set having been wholly originals) and that was the main stage finished: Spoon doing a final onstage direction of the crowd towards Ch3vy's Funk Of Fury dj session back up in the marquee. I gathered up my records and belongings from front of stage, vaulting back over the barriers with them (apparently I tumbled over really, and made Reuben and Murray crack-up as a result), then joined my friends to consider heading home. After a bundle of goodbyes and congratulations, Lee, Carolyn and I wandered back towards Rye Station (Lee sober, Carolyn and I drunk). On the way, I tripped forwards and, with the weight of two record bags around my neck, inevitably fell sprawling into the road (fortunately vehicle-free at that moment), grazing my hands and arms. Lee helped carry the records after that! At the station we said Hi to Kim, then joined Carrie, Tom and Barney for the train journey. I tried to grab a paper on the train, but it was the inspector's, so I nodded-off a bit on the journey back instead. Disembarking at Hastings, we caught up with Kim again for the walk into town, then the rest of us got back to the Old Town and into the house, for a few cups of tea, and a winding-down chat before bed. Rocksalts: hats-off all round! They'll be back...

I was amongst the very few people who made it along to Revolver last night for Dean's fortnightly session: with the heat, some people were staying home; Rufus and Bonj were putting in time at the Basement; and Jim was onstage in the house-band for Lenny Beige's Seaside Spectacular at White Rock that same night (an event which may also have accounted for the quietness of the Old Town during the evening). If I'd have had the £25 ticket-money, and had known for certain that anyone I knew would be there, I'd have favoured White Rock too; but I hadn't and I didn't, so Revolver it was. I wandered down a little after 9pm, and Dean was already inside, chatting to a couple we know. It was too hot for him to feel comfortable with a shirt on, so he elected to perform the whole gig shirtless, which was quite (country)rock. Amongst the dozen or so people in Revolver (with a few more sitting out the front) were Joe (with some friends) and Chuckie (with some others), the latter of who was able to supply Dean with some much-needed plectrums (I guess he normally keeps them in his shirt-pocket. Beginning with his take on We Are Going To Be Friends, Dean played a leisurely set of slower Rumiko songs, with a bit of Ben Kweller thrown in. The lack of familiar faces in the audience may have made Revolver's entertainment look a little bizarre to the passing punters and pedestrians (a handful of people listening intently to an undressed beardy troubador), but the atmosphere was good. After a while, Dean gave himself a break to chat to some friends and strangers alike, and soon Step chanced to come in with some other friends and a dog. Partly 'cos the evening was unusually under-attended, I started thinking that this evening was as good as any other at marking a shift-point between the Hastings arts-scene we've been experiencing for the last few years, and the forthcoming more widely-known scene (taking as internal evidence the media-friendly entertainment at White Rock, which I reckoned was introducing many new people to the town or the possibility of what can be carried-off successfully here; and the current push that Mumm-Ra are experiencing as a very Bexhill-centric band - an appearance on The Album Chart Show on Channel 4 over the weekend, the correctly-predicted single-review that would appear in the next day's music press, etc). These are both minor events, but ones which are reflected in the popular national media, so I decided that Tuesday 18th July 2006 was the last evening on which the Hastings arts-scene operated independently of the attentions of the country as a whole: fairly arbitarily, but there you go. Meanwhile, Dean had begun his second set, but part-way through his voice started cracking with the heat (Dean - "My voice is getting really low"; Step - "That's 'cos you're playing so-lo"), so Step moved across to give him a break by performing a couple of his own strum-heavy agit-folk songs, which made people grin. It was only when the two musicians swapped places again that Step revealed the extent of his inebriation, by commenting that he thought he'd been playing the gig shirtless, and was glad now to see that it was Dean who was undressed after all, and that he'd been wearing his own shirt all the time (it was confusing then, too). Reuben and Tim turned up, closely followed by Helen (who'd been at White Rock, but had evidently left very early on, and thereby missed anyone particularly well-known comically or musically): the two lads had been at Guilfest over the weekend, and Reuben had some great pictures on his 'phone, including one of him, their friend Emma, and the great Donovan, all mugging furiously (oh, if only Reuben had the technology and inclination to post it online for everyone: maybe keep and eye on his Myspace if you're one of his 'freinds'; there are lots of you). Dean was feeling sufficiently recovered to power through the faster songs that traditionally make-up the end of his solo/duo sets (with a bit of The Monkey Song and Blister In The Sun, upon request); bearing in mind people were sweating cobs (what does that mean?) he did us all proud. I drank-up my last pint, and said my goodbyes to everyone (including Kim, too late for the music this time), then marched home again.

Last week, so much happened in so little time that I can only get the outlines of it down here: there was more socialising than my memory can handle.
It started on the Monday down Smugglers, where Rumiko Jr had a gig. I walked in about 9pm, but most of the soaks in the bar had been there at least all day. As I said to Rufus: "My God, this pub's full of alcoholics!" Dean started off with a warm-up set with Bonj, a few fairly new (and the occasional very old) songs, as the rest of his band, and more of the audience (ie those who were coming to see Rumiko, not just the Smugglers drinkers) turned up. There was a lot more gear on stage than usual: Michael had got another keyboard for his rack (an old organ, via Rufus), and I think there were more amps etc too. When the full Rumiko band started up, the boosted sound was evident from the off: they were loud! And really full-on, this being the first gig they'd done for a few weeks. Dean was able to casually introduce songs as being "Off our first album", confident that they had the second one in the bag, ready for mastering. And they were playing other songs destined for the third (or beyond), which included the debut airing of a rapid, riff-heavy song (Zep/Lizzy/AC DC) that flipped our wigs. 'Cos of the hot weather, half the boys were in shorts, turn-ups, sandals etc: and what with Dean's current hairstyle/beard making him the spit of Captian Jack Sparrow, there was an appropriately comic Pirates Of The Carribean look to the band that evening. The band played heavy and long, and you could see us lot in the audience(and if you were there you'll have to nominate yourself here, 'cos I mainly remember talking to Alis, Caroline and Reuben, I think, though I half-recall Richard Hart, Jonathan and Jamie being there at different points too) all glancing at one another and grinning, 'cos this was immediately evidently one of the best gigs we'd seen them play (and there's been many great gigs from them, especially in the Smugs). No songtitles given here: just imagine what you'd have wanted to hear, and pretend they played them all, really clearly and energetically, it was that sort of gig. Eamon was dancing to the whole of the set, and was absolutely made-up when he spotted the Rumiko Jr badges that Caroline had made and brought along. When they finished, the band admitted straight away that they'd known they were playing well too: all very promising in the run-up to the big (for us) summer gigs. More chat, then home.
Tuesday was Dean again, down in his Revolver slot. Tonight he was playing with Jim instead, who's guitaring was especially fluid tonight, the guy's ridiculously talented. It was a very chilled evening compared to the night before: the bar staff turned the lights right down, and put the candles on. I'd passed Harry & Steph Holmes on the way, outside the Dragon with their friends, and fortunately they were coming along too. Bill, Lee, Anna and their friends were sitting outside with some of the kids, taking in the fresh evening air: I sat inside with Rufus for the music. Kim, Reuben and that crew turned up for a while, then went along to the Stag for a bit. Dean and Jim played the gentler first half of their set, then handed over to Rufus for a stirringly solid soul selection (I'm always hindered by not knowing the names of any of Rufus' songs, but I can't specifically remember much of anyone else's this week either, so hopefully no-one looks put-down out of my ignorance). Reuben had invited some guy he'd just seen playing at Mr Twangy's Open Mike night at the Gritti along for a turn, but he arrived too late in the evening for Dean to fit him in. His and Jim's second set was typically the more rabid stuff, wherein Dean lets loose his guttural roar towards the end and frightens the Jack Johnson crowd. I chatted with Richard Dennett about his Wednesday sessions at The Street, and we were both amazed by yet another excellent "I wrote this one today, Jim's not heard it yet" -style song from the boys. I went outside afterwards and found Reuben, Kim, Ollie and Wookie sitting with some others, including Helen, who was celebrating her 40th (and may have been doing so for a while), trying to get people down the beach for a swim: I declined, and she got miffed (with everyone, I think, I'm not sure there'd been any takers for a drunken dip in the Channel). The bar was shut, so I left everyone to it.
Wednesday had Matt & Bonj billed along with Hayley at The Street, but she didn't make it along in the end. Rufus had been setting the gear up for the Regular John lot, so he stepped in admirably with another set of his own, somewhat different from the previous night's gig, if my addled memory is serving me well. Carrie & Tom had come along for the night out, having missed the two preceding night's gigs, and were well-rewarded with an inspired acoustic Regular John set, which included (and this bit is true) Matt & Bonj's version of Real Gone Kid by Deacon Blue... The other half of the 'John (Lee & Pete, with 'Lex) were in the house, I don't think I asked them what they thought of that cover (I was too busy defending the Raintown album to Carrie & Tom), but perhaps I should have. Again, I chatted to Richard Dennett (behind the bar), Wookie and Alis, and probably several more of my friends who I see every day, so often that life blurs. There were new songs from Matt & Bonj too, and a couple of encore-requests, in which I got in a superlative version of Hyeshin for my shouting-efforts. God bless 'em. When I left, I strode through town, just catching up with Pete, 'Lex and Alis as they were saying their goodbye's to each other on the seafront, so I said goodnight too, and got myself safely home.
Thursday brought Other Words at Bar Blue: the first time I'd made it along properly for a while. Fortunately, in my general-absence, the Other Words crew have been able to get a far-superior (ie professional) PA set-up for the evenings, and I'm now able to relax as a punter, albeit one who still offers as much encouragement and support to Tara and Richard Hart as I can. The majority of the evening was taken up with the familiar set of poets, with the occasional instrumental musician (eg a recorder player performing folk-tunes). Kim and Wookie were around (Wookie chatting to Tara about the Other Words website he's building for her, and taking photographs for it), as was Caragh, but it was really Tara I wanted to spend time with, having been too heat-struck to stick around on her birthday barbeque on the East Hill the preceding Sunday afternoon. Caragh sung beautifully, and Claire Hamill eventually made it along for a few late songs too, which was very fine. One late appearance was from a bloke called Andre, who did conjuring tricks with a pack of cards. He said he does entertainment on cruise ships, and so he had the comic patter (of the "Take my wife..." variety) to suit, but also, I think, as part of his misdirection during the magic tricks. After using a friend of Tara's as support/stooge, he recieved demands for more: the fall-guy decided to have a drink in the back bar instead, and I was the next-nearest audience member, so was offered-up onstage in the guy's place. Although I was quite drunk, I went for it, 'cos I was very interested to see what it's like being the straight-man to a magician. Like I say, it was tricks with a standard deck of cards: there were points at which I was aware there was cards being forced on me, or stuff that Andre had to think on his feet to make go right, or bits where I was being encouraged by his patter to agree to things slightly different to how I was sensing them (as in "This is where you told me to cut the deck, right?"), but because you want to see how the trick is gonna go, you're happy to go along with them. But, seriously, the majority of the time, his sleight-of-hand was so deft that I was caught-out time and time again: so that it genuinely felt as if cards were changing their suit in my hand, or moving up through the deck that I was holding. It's a finely honed skill: and well worth being up close for at least once in your life. After all that, and with the bar closing, I finally got more of a chance to hang out with Tara, Michael and some of the others, before I took myself back along the prom and home.
Friday was a busy evening at the Gritti Palace, where Duncan was djing (as Spunky Dunk Funk) again; and Lee had come over to join me, Michael & Caroline, Angie etc there. His djing was expertly selected and mixed (as usual); and we were all massively suprised (now that the rest of the Pier has had to be closed for safety reasons) by the verging-on-luxurious portacabin toilets that have been parked outside on the boards (flowers! paintings! actual toilet rolls!) It was so busy there (taking the staff by suprise) that we spent the first half of the evening squatting across in the juice bar, which we had to ourselves; before getting a space in the main part of the Gritti, with Angie and their friends. Bumped into Reuben, Frank, Murray etc outside The Carlisle on the way back, who'd just been watching Gorilla there, but I left them to their adventuring.
Finally Saturday, and after work and that final Doctor Who, I faffed-around a bit, then wandered over to catch the end of the first St Leonards Festival in Warrior Square Gardens. The Selecter were already well into their set, and I found Tara, Jackie and their friends, and (once I'd established that, for obvious reasons, there was no beer-tent, and had got myself a couple of cans of Red Stripe from the seafront off-licence) stood-around watching with them (who were, to be fair, already dancing). I spotted Nat & Bill from the 'Marrows further towards the front (easy to do, they're rather tall), and went forward for a chat and a dance with them. I dunno how many of the blokes in The Selecter are from the original line-up (several of them look like they could've been), but Pauline Black is unmistakable (and looks ridiculously better than you might expect: see her jump!) She was grinning a hell of a lot too, which seemed natural to me, though Bill said he'd never even seen her smile onstage (and they'd seen them often, unlike me, who'd happened to have missed them in Hastings each time). Having arrived in the middle of the set, I had to wait 'til a bit later for the songs I knew to turn up (including, of course, On My Radio, their version of Prince Buster's Madness, and Too Much Pressure in a medley with the Maytals' Pressure Drop - hey, I do know my reggae, this wasn't me taking notes from Nat or Bill you know) and when they did it was great: a view shared by the (very Two-Tone fan -based crowd). The evening's entertainment was concluded by the Heliosphere (in it's second performance of the day): an acrobat suspended beneath a large heluim balloon, itself tethered to two guys on the ground, keeping in contact with one another via radio-mikes. It was dark(ish), and the balloon was illuminated, but really the spectacle was more impressive to the (very excited) kids who were left, sitting up on the adults' shoulders, reaching upwards to what they could very likely have been believing was an actual angel. I rejoined Tar & Jackie's crowd, and watched the performance whilst chatting to Michael. Most people seemed to be going to see the live music at The Rooms (which was a very good plan), but I was heading into town instead, so I said goodbye to everyone, nodded to Linda King, missed Tim Hoyte (striding back and forth between groups of people he knew), and had a garbled conversation with Pete O'Mant, before I made it up over White Rock, and into the Brass Monkey. I sat down with Caroline, Lisa and Helen, and we chatted about the sadness of Doctor Who earlier. Kim turned up, and Rumiko Jr were up onstage already, hammering through a shorter, but no-less excellent, set than earlier in the week. Those new songs were still in there too: we were a bit drunk, we bopped. The venue was busy, and getting busier: Christa, Maya, Alis, Reuben and others kept popping up to say hello or dance about a bit. Dave Arnold was there too, and I really ought to have got round to saying Hi by now, but I was too drunk to think of an intelligent way to do so (even though he took the initiative to begin emailing me). With Katherine back in the UK, Del had seized the opportunity to (briefly) reform The Candys, who were up next: thrashing through the singles Queen Of Perfection and Monitor Rock, along with all those other pop-songs they had that never (yet) made it out to the world at large. Matt Jukes was djing, there were birthday-balloons everywhere, and finally a full Regular John gig onstage: no time for anything vaguely epic or prog, but heads-down rock-outs (not the 'Quo, that was last week!), gone in sixty-seconds (so it seemed, in my alcoholically-exaggerated sense of timing). Drink/noise/drink/noise and over and over and I was very happily drunk, and not making much sense to Caroline or Helen (I think), or that may have been 'cos I was being deafened by rock. I didn't want to leave during the bands to walk Maya part-way home this time when she enquired (which she was fine with); and then I got very bamboozled when Alis tried to suggest that I knew her older sister (the recall part of my brain wasn't in operation: everything became clear the following day - I'd not seen her sister, a friend once, for years). Eventually, I did that "I've drunk enough, I'm gonna go now" thing, and zoomed-off home, but it was a great night out.
Sunday I rested at home. With beer though!