I'd only had a momentary breathing-space after the New Year's visitors and obligations, with the only live-music being accidentally catching the Sundog blues band at Smugglers between Marcus and Rufus' birthdays (Saturday 6th Jan, in fact), before Paula came up from the Isles Of Scilly for a weekend. I'd met her down the FILO on the following Thursday, after which she stayed at Michael & Caroline's, before heading off to rendezvous with Lee in Brighton the next day. We'd planned that I'd catch up with everyone over there later in the day too, so after work I ran and got an early train straight through to Brighton, where I hung about by WHSmiths on Brighton Station concourse until Carolyn arrived. I know I tend to always look like I'm trying to get picked-up when I'm waiting for someone, and sure enough a really sweet young guy came up and made a shy attempt at hitting on me by asking me where Queens Road was. At first I thought he was genuinely lost, and it wasn't until I saw the embarrassed disappointment on his face that I realised my helpful directions ("Um, isn't that the road right outside?") weren't the answer he was looking for. Shortly after, Carolyn arrived, and we grabbed baguettes from the Station shop, and walked down towards the Corn Exchage, where we'd be meeting Paula, along with Lee an Linda, at a ig. We bumped into a couple of Carolyn's friends, and went for a quick drink with them at the Mash Tun, which was a bit overwhelming intially 'cos we went and sat upstairs, right next to a bunch of football hooligans (they reckoned), who all appeared to be called Dave (as in "Who wanted Guinness?" "It was Dave" "No, not me, that Dave" "No, mate, DAVE!" etc). As I was clearly a bit stressed, we went back downstairs, which was still busy, but less threatening, and this is where Paula popped her head in and said Hello. Carolyn and I moved on into the Corn Exchange, and went straight inside to find Paula, Lee and Linda already seated. Last time I'd been to this venue was with Carrie to see Yo La Tengo, which was a standing gig, where we bumped into Miles and Richard too. The fact that we were seated now got my hackles up a bit, and it took a while for my resentment towards the gig to die down. We had gone along to the first date on the O Degrees Of Separation tour: promoted as a package-tour of Vetiver, Adem, Vashti Bunyan and Juana Molina, with an amount of collaboration promised. It turned out that the entire troupe of performers took to the stage from the off, performing one of the few Vetiver songs I'd actually heard. The dozen or so musicians all stayed onstage for a while, taking turns to perform their own or each other's songs, before beginning to splinter off into smaller combinations of groups, depending on the demands of each particular song. The first half of the set was a bit too soporific for me, and I had to concentrate on not just dozing off for the sake of it, pretty as Vetiver's and Vashti Bunyan's tunes were. The couple in front of me were quite busy kissing, while a man to their left was indeed stroking his beard. I only really took notice when, after a full-group crescendo through one of Juana Molina's songs, she performed some of her music solo, building up layers of voice, guitar and rhythm loops, and adding keyboard sounds straight off the second OMD album over the top. Her music (she took another near-solo turn later on) was the highlight of the evening for me, and I noted that her contributions to the ensemble performances weren't as seamlessly fitted-in as the other musicians, as if she'd not found a way to contribute to the overall sound, and was more comfortable with creating her noise alone. There was a lengthy intermission, enough time to get one beer down us, but not two (as I found when I got out of my seat and the bar was shut), before a second-half that was really more of the same, though with a handful more songs I recognised (I think I've possibly only every heard one or two songs each by any of the contributors before). Adem adapted the end of a children's story to the solo accompaniment of some rainbow-coloured handbells; while Vetiver picked-up the tempo somewhat with some dynamic full-band (there seems to be quite a few of them in the group anyway) numbers. The second-half really seemed to be geared towards Vashti Bunyan though, who was clearly having a lovely time up there, playing recently-written songs, as well as many from her initial period in the limelight, back (as you probably know) in the Sixties. The crowd optimistically stomped for an encore, and sure enough, the whole bunch made it back onstage one more time for a joyous run-through Bunyan's 1965 Jagger/Richards 7" (it's on Decca, I checked) 'Some Things Just Stick In Your Mind'. Paula, who's idea going to the gig had been, was made-up, and I'd ended-up enjoying myself more than I expected too, and after a few false starts (too crowded, too noisy, too cold...) we all found a quiet pub near the railway station for a drink and a catch-up, before Paula and I got the last train back to Hastings.
The following day, I left breakfast outside Paula's door upstairs before heading off to work, and at some point she went off to see her parents in Eastbourne for the weekend. That evening, I'd decided to go to Tom Waits Day (Simon Shaw's birthday) at Smugglers, as I'd done last year (see this Blog, um, about a year ago). Before I went there, I popped round Emma's to pick up some stuff I'd lent her, and she told me I'd see Sacha drumming down Smugglers later on, which I did, and very friendly and enthusiastic he was too. It was a real Hastings all-star line-up of musicians down Smugglers that night: the main band involving contributions from Simon (of course) alongside Lianne Carroll, Harvey Summers, Liam Genockey, Jem Turpin, Colin Gibson and John Ballard, all of whom (bar, I think, Liam Genockey and our Harvey) took turns on vocals for a few of the Tom Waits covers. Other friends of ourse performed, including Logan Wilson and Alfie, but generally the evening belonged to the people mentioned above, with a brief bit of singing, between shifts at the bar, for Donna Terenzi. I'd tell you who was there, but really, just about everyone was there! What a fuckin' beauty. Eventually, as the band started-up on 'Heart-Attack and Vine' (ie: only just beginning to play the few Tom Waits songs I know), I had to knock the evening on the head, having spent the whole time drinking and enthusing about what a great place we live in for music (I mean, you've got your BBC Jazz award-winners onstage - ie the top-end of a spit 'n' sawdust pub - with guys from back-in-the-day groups like Steeleye Span and Skip Bifferty, alongside surviving musicians from our old social-group at sixth-form college - your Tuxedo Sam's and your 4D Special Agent's, up with the Leicester/Rumiko Jr contingent, being watched by various Mumm-Ra's and beyond. Don't knock it!)
The following evening, Sunday by now, I'd had a farewell drink with Paula back in the FILO (in order to get out of more parental obligations, she'd told her family that my brother Michael and Caroline had invited her over for dinner, rather than admit she wanted a drink down the pub with me, which felt the teensiest bit wounding: last thing I heard, her parents did like me...), then set her off on the train at Hastings Station, before returning home for a couple of cans. I'd passed Reuben on the way, who pointed-out that Tim Hoyte was playing Smugglers that evening, and after some deliberation at home I decided to go down there. When I left, it was puring with rain, and I managed to walk straight into an abandoned pint-glass outside the Blue Dolphin chip shop, which shattered extremely loudly, much to the amusement of the couple at the cash-point. I shrugged, and hurried along to Smugglers, where I said Hi to Tim, and joined Reuben, with Wookie, Jamie and Xanten. The Smugglers was much quieter that night, to some relief on Ewen's part, I gathered (the night before's Tom Waits tribute had been rammed!), which was also beneficial to Tim's hushed set. He played some Roy Harper song I was unfamiliar with (I love Roy Harper: can we have a Roy Harper Day sometime soon, please?), during which I reiterated to myself just what a virtuoso guitarist Tim is (one of maybe two top-class guitarists of our generation in Hastings - more of the other one later...) Unfortunately, the build-up of alcohol amongst us meant that when Tim introduced an accompanying musician for the second half of his set, we didn't really pay much attention, preferring instead to yammer on amongst ourselves, slagging off this or that Top40 'Indie' band du jour. Before I went, I remember promising to go down Smugglers again for Xanten's birthday, but now I've forgotten when that was, and suspect I may have already missed it: sory if that's the case!
A couple of days later, Carolyn made it back over to Hastings for the first time since Christmas (when she stayed over for about a week, but somehow managed to pick the few days where there wasn't a fabulous local gig on). She came straight to my place to drop her stuff off, and we went off into town to La Pattie Cafe, for Dean's monthly session. Crystal, Kim and Wookie were already waiting at a table for us, proffering complimentary peanuts that tasted of varnish (I guess they'd been roasted in their own oil, but bygum they were tart). Caroline arrived, and sat nearby with Keith and Lily, while Dean and Jim set up for their first set. This was Jim's first gig for a while (he'd been travelling) and, of course, he is the other virtuoso Hastings guitarist I was referring to just now: at one point I got thoroughly mesmerised by the various sounds he coaxed out of his electric (during, I think, their cover of 'We Are Going To Be Friends', perhaps suprisingly). Somewhat hampered by the formal seating of La Pattie Cafe, I tried to divide my attention between my various friends, as Tim performed a similar, but shorter, set to his one down Smugglers over the weekend (including, again, his Roy Harper cover, and a Smiths one, and - missing the boat rather - a Tom Waits one). Michael had joined the throng by this point, though I lost track of time a bit during Dean and Jim's second set, and was susbsequently suprised to hear that he and Caroline left the venue late, but far earlier than th rest of us did. That's the peril of a bar that only serves Stella: things get a bit scrambled.
The same evening, Nick and Melinda (who'd been back at mine the Monday night between theabove-described gigs) had gone over to Brighton to see Lee perform a Rashamon gig at the Marlborough Theatre for Spirit Of Gravity, and later in the week, Lee made the return journey over to Hastings. He came round my place on the Saturday evening, and we went up the FILO for a couple of pints and a social catch-up, before heading back into town and Smugglers AGAIN for an evening celebrating Helen and Patrick's engagement. The pub was still decorated in honour of Eamonn Cahill, bless him, which helped add colour and joy to the night. I left Lee to do the rounds of our friends, and sat on the end of the pool-table, chatting to Linda King, as Hayley Savage played the first set of the evening. Helen and Patrick had pulled-together several of our lot to do a few songs apiece, and Hayley's pin-drop focussed songs were followed by a couple of covers by Marcus, making a rare solo appearance. He was back out of the focus subsequently, when he and Rufus backed Dean for some stripped-down Rumiko Jr tracks; and sometime before or afterwards Tim Hoyte went through a few of his own songs too (time begins to twist and bend...) Apart from occasionally checking Lee was enjoying himself, I spent most of the evening discussing this and that with Linda, so much so that when I went to talk to anyone else (eg Maya, Caroline, Alice) I don't think I came out with much more than the obvious "So, how are you?" kind-of stuff. An exception was made when Helen sat down with me to fill me in on how things had gone with her and Patrick, which was good to hear, and her happiness was clear to see as they danced together to Rufus' band's headlining slot. We stuck around quite late, but eventually it was time to knock it on the head, so Lee and I left. After briefly putting our heads round the door of the Basement (where Dean, Danielle and Alice were chatting) we wandered towards the Old Town. Dean and Danielle ran and caught up with us (they're now near-neighbours), and then we said goodnight, went to our respective rooms (Lee to the spare room, so frequently occupied by Paula, Nick and Melinda over the Christmas/New Year period) and me to the larger room in the house that I'd moved myself into earlier in the month.
The next morning (a Sunday), I was slow getting up, and missed Lee leaving to get back to Portslade, but that, at last, was the end of my Christmas guest-house socialising commitments...

Just before Christmas, Anna moved out of our house, taking her handy broadband computer with her. I've now rescued my friend Paula's old computer from the top of the house, and am back on tortuously-slow dial-up again. But at least I can resume my Blog (log onto internet, sign into Blogger account, log off internet, write Blog, log onto internet again, post Blog, etc), though I won't be able to include the photos of the gigs that I've been taking over Christmas (an unexpectedly large mobile-phone bill, blameable on the frequency with which I was emailing photos from my phone to the computer, also puts pay to that plan for a while). 'Cos I was out such a lot over Christmas, I'm only gonna briefly re-cap the stuff we ended up going to, as my memory is even more unreliable after a few weeks of celebration.
Saturday 16th December: Step had organised a Christmas gig at Venue M in George Street (formerly De Niro's, formerly George Street Hall), and I went along with Caroline. We were too early, as the bands had been a bit disorganised, so went along to the Hastings Arms for a drink first. When we got back to Venue M a bit later, the DJ was playing that great Fog single, followed by a MBV/Chapterhouse shoegaze face-off, so the omens were good. Jonathan Martin and a couple of friends played first, and carried off the job of warming the place up well (the venue was still filling-up), and I caught up with the Rumiko lot. The Dawgs came on stage and played some of that zydeco, and we realised that tonight was the social choice for almost everyone we knew: Tim Hoyte; Alfie & Robert; Tara, Caragh and Jackie; Rebecca and Anna; Josie; Harvey and Logan Wilson; Emma and her partner Sacha (also Step's drummer, it transpired); and all the other friends and partners of the various groups. Patrick and Helen turned up very briefly too, and we all got confused when we couldn't see them anywhere (they could only have stayed for a few minutes, I guess). Reuben turned up, intending on DJing later, and we agreed that I'd pop home at some point to get a few bits of vinyl to help him along. The pace of the evening dropped a bit during a set from Zoe Konez, which was fine, but by this point I was getting hyperactive, so I ran back to my house and pulled-out the records Reuben needed. Ella appeared at her door offering Cava, so I dragged her down to Venue M too (though she didn't stay long either, once she'd caught up with a handful of her friends). Rufus had been manning the sound-desk all evening, but when he was due on stage, we roped Harvey in to perform the duties. Rumiko Jr played a vibrant set, culminating in a double guest spot from Alfie on harmonica, and Step on fiddle, for 'We Get Lost'. Step stayed up there for his headlining set, as Tymon Dogg & The Quickening (who I think were the aforementioned Sacha; Muz, once of The Heaters, on bass; and Simon Shaw - who'd played earlier with Jonathan - on guitar). By this point I was very merry, and either my hearing was going, or the sound had got a bit mushy. I ran around giving Christmas hugs and kisses to lots of people (and probably promised loads of thing I don't remember), before realising I was on the verge of passing-out, so I grabbed my records back from Reuben in the DJ booth, and got quickly back to bed.
Tuesday 19th December: I was down to my last few pounds, but wanted to pop to Revolver to see Dean play. I'd had a bath in the evening, so my hair was sticking up all over the place as it dried, and I'd been reduced to some very holey clothes while I did my laundry that evening, whcih meant I looked a bit of a state when I got down to the bar. I spent my money on the only pint I could afford, and sat with Jonathan and Rufus while Dean, accompanied by Simon Shaw this time, played his first set of the evening. I noticed Christa sitting at the top of the room, with a big flashing badge on, so I realised it was her birthday, and went over for a chat with her. She was out with one of her brothers and several of her friends (some of who'm I knew, such as Paul, and some that I didn't), and was having a great time, but I knew I wasn't going to be sticking around too long that evening, so I left their group with a promise to try and catch up at the Winter Solstice gig at The Carlisle a few days later (I didn't make it in the end, as my sister and her family flew in from Australia that evening). In ordinary circumstances, I may just have asked one of my friends if they could stand me a drink (though I'm always quite reluctant to do so, but I generally accept when they're offered, and hope I remember to buy that person one back in return soon after), however, I was aware that I looked even more of a pauper than I actually am, so I apologised to Rufus that I'd miss his set, and said my goodbyes to Jonathan, Dean & Danielle, Alice & Steph, and went home to do something else.
Wednesday 20th December. Rumiko Jr had a pre-Christmas gig at Smugglers for Ewen's birthday, and when I got there, Regular John were lining-up to play too. It turned out also to be Andy Warren's birthday, and he'd asked Zoe Konez to play, so it was quite a full night. However, I must confess that I can't remember very much about it at all (my memories will have been smudged-over by the New Year's Day gig at the same pub). I did say Hi to Helen and Patrick, which was a relief, 'cos I thought they were blanking me at Venue M the other day, which wasn't the case at all, it turned out; but mostly I just sat by the pool table with a mized bunch of folk, and watched the music. I know it was good to see the boys from the 'John, 'cos I'd not caught up with them for about a month; and I recall Michael was working and wasn't able to play with Rumiko; but the rest of the night is just flashes of dissecting the state of the local scene with Marcus, Deano & Rufus. Maybe my photos (which I'll try and upload into this Blog entry at some point) will illuminate things further.
Friday 22nd December: It'd been my day-off work, and I'd spent a while at home, before Carolyn Fouracre and Roschendah texted to get me to join them down at The Dragon in the evening, where they'd gone after the Council's Christmas event that afternoon at St Mary In The Castle. I joined them, and a schoolfriend of Carolyn's, with the intention of just staying for one drink, as I was going to catch Jonathan Martin at Smugglers, before heading to the Brass Monkey for yet another Rumiko gig (Dean later admitted he wore himself right out in this run-up to Christmas). But after one pint I'd changed my mind, and stayed with them for another couple, before Roshendah decided she ought to get back over to Bexhill, whilst me and Carolyn and her friends went along to the Royal Albion for a bit of karaoke. I'd had enough to drink to make me agree to sing 'Fairytale Of New York' with Carolyn, and by the time the song came-up I was able to pull-off a just-about passsable Shane MacGowan, whilst Carolyn's Kirsty MacColl performance mostly involved whispering "Stu, it's your line! Oh, shit, it's mine..." in place of actually singing. I looked up, and people were indeed leaving the pub: excellent! Afterwards, some drinkers told me how bad my singing was: yay! We all got a lot more drunk, and there was a bit of Christmas snogging, until it was decided that I'd accompany Carolyn to The Carlisle, where there was some kind of function going on upstairs. In order to appear more casual about us arriving together, she introduced me to a guy she wanted to hang out with as "My gay friend Stuart" (Having already been introduced to Carolyn's mate down The Dragon as "Our bisexual S&M pornstar friend Stuart" I was getting used to this). I'd totally missed my plan of seeing Jonathan do his Katjam thing at Smugglers, so I made my excuses and went straight from The Carlisle to Brass Monkey to see Rumiko. As with Step's gig the previous weekend, almost everyone I knew was out, but on this occasion I was already drunk when I arrived, so I'm not really able to report exactly who was there. I sat with Caroline before Rumiko played, and I danced a lot with Kim and others while the band played, and then I think I said some rather daft crush-style stuff to Alice and her friends (and, indeed, sisters, I suspect) before finally doing something sensible, and heading home. Although I did (for the first time in years) think it would be a good idea to get a kebab in George Street, and even noticing myself swaying unsteadily on my feet in the mirrors in the kebab shop didn't put me off. I ate most of a lamb doner, and put the rest of the meat down for the cats when I got in. Needless to say, they enjoyed their midnight feast (either they licked their dishes clean, or the garlic sauce dissolved the encrusted cat food), and therefore didn't wake me up for their breakfast the next morning, meaning I overslept for work (which is an annual habit for me at Christmas now).
Sunday 31st December: New Year's Eve, and almost everyone I knew was going to a party at Hayley & Marc's place, but I favoured going into town to see The A Team at Brass Monkey, expecting there to be more of my friends there than anywhere else. Before I went out, though, I finished off the task I'd set myself earlier that weekend, namely finally assembling Anti - the new Dizzy Tiger compilation album (this required much last-minute texting, phone calls, and trips to Smugglers and Michael & Caroline's flat to pick up CD-Rs with other tracks on. Mission accomplished, I went into town around 10pm, and walked straight into a near-empty Brass Monkey, which was a suprise. I sat on my own with a drink, and said Hi to Billy when he arrived, but had no-one to socialise with until Plum turned up with some Rye friends (and, shortly afterwards, Holly Palmer and her friends). When Rufus and Bonj had turned up, I was asked if I could stand in the monitor room while they played, just in case the mics started feeding back (in which case, I'd be ready to turn them down or off). I agreead, and Bonj said he'd collar me when they were ready. A bit later, I had a tap on the shoulder, and turned round to see a stranger in a cream safari suit and blonde wig. It was, of course, Bonj, in character as Hannibal Smith, so I went with him to the booth and he showed me what I might need to do. The rest of The A Team that night were Rufus as BA Baracus (but a green Mr T this time, which I thought was meant to be seasonal), Matt Jukes as Face, and Billy as Murdoch (Paul was absent in Wales, so at least it was a 4-man A-Team again). The venue had filled up a bit more by this point, so there was lots of dancing once the audience realised what the gig was all about. After only one or two songs, it was time for Rufus to shout 'Happy New Year' stuff, then it was on with the tunes. Pete Wilkes popped into the booth a few times, to check I knew what I was doing, and make some adjustments to the mics and lighting, but otherwise I mostly filled the role of unofficial cloakroom attendant for people such as Christa, and sounding-off man for some amiable, but very drunk, emo guy in a local rock band. A-Team highlights included the theme from Fame (with note-perfect Bonj solo) and Home And Away (with affectionate duetting by Rufus and Bonj, all high-notes hit, just about). I flicked the mics off afterwards, and Rufus shook my hand with his green one, and got me a drink. They went off to get changed again, and I wandered around, watching people dancing to garage records (where had this group of kids, for whom 'Stray Cat Strut' was the totemic tune, come from? And where were they when Billy Childish played a few months ago?), but was feeling a bit left out, and so rather than hang-on for the others to make it back downstairs, I just decided to walk home. However, Nichola called me over as I went past The Dragon, and persuaded me to come inside to catch up with Rebecca. It was another private-party, but Paddy was happy for me to come in, so I ended up getting an exciting New Year's Eve bit of socialising done at the last moment after all.
Monday 1st January: In the afternoon, I walked over to my parents, and got a text on the way from Nick and Melinda, who were heading to Hastings to catch up with us all for a couple of days. After some time with the family, a bunch of us drove over to Caroline & Michael's flat, which is where Nick and Melinda caught up with us. We all went back to my parents and watched The Sarah-Jane Adventures with the kids, then I got Nick and Melinda back to the Old Town to dump their stuff. We walkd back through the rain to Smugglers, where Southernwood were onstage. I'd never seen them play after all these years (in fact, I was several years behind the news when I found out Alena had joined them) so I was really pleased to see them at last, doing a wayward but endearing fragmented take on the US left-field. We'd arranged for my sister and her husband to come along while they were in the UK, and they brought my Mum along too, which was fine, although some drunk European student lads mistook her for the picture of the Queen on their £10 notes. I chatted to family and friends, and then Rumiko got up to play their first set. Unlike some occasions, when they may do a slow set first, with a faster one later, played two full-energy sets that evening, so my family did get to see them going off at full tilt. My folks went off home afterwards, and I got drunk catching up with Nick & Melinda while we waited for Regular John to set up (which took ages, for some reason). They played a blinder though, and lots of people took photos and films, and the Europeans danced like loons, and asked me where the 'sexy Queen' had gone... I said Hi to the likes of Christa, Reuben, Ollie, Danielle and Alice, and waved at Plum and her crew, who'd occupied the pool table. Rumiko were finally up for their second set, and it was great (oh, if only they and the 'John had got their albums out in 2006, as I was expecting...) and Nick formulated plans to make a proper film of next year's New Year's Day special (both he and Melinda work in film and photography over in Toronto). After the bands had finished, the bar stayed open for the revellers, but (as he always does) Ewen refused entry to any latecomers after 11pm. At one point, this included a large group of guys who happened to be black, which was misconstrued by a couple of the punters as being racist on Smugglers' part, and as some kind-of white-victory by some tosser of a barfly. Dean and Rufus made sure the guys understood why they weren't allowed in after 11 (everyone, unless they've been doing bar-work or a gig that evening, gets treated according to the same rule, so me, Paula, Reuben, Rufus and Dean, for example, have also been refused service by Ewen in similar circumstances), and generally smoothed things over, though a couple of people walked out in sympathy. That clouded that part of the evening only a little, and after reluctantly accepting a couple more drinks from my mates, I knocked it on the head for the night, and left Nick and Melinda with the spare keys so they could make their own way back home later.