Gig Night

My daughter was performing in concert last night as part of her guitar class. This was at the local bowling club which was packed out as every performer brought along their mum, dad, grandmother, Auntie Aggie and the family dog. This did lead to something of a shortage of seating and I ended up having to bring along an extra wooden stool as well as the guitar flight case for my daughter. Somehow, after all these years, I appear to have been roped into being the roadie again.

When I used to play in bands, I don’t recall ever having roadies as such. In fact, I was usually the one that would have to stay sober as I was driving the van. I did, however, perform such duties for other people as I occasionally recorded them performing live. This would involve setting up all the equipment, setting up an appropriate array of mics and staying sober so that I could operate the mixing deck and drive everyone else home afterwards. In fact I have to say that, in retrospect, my experience of live music performance was probably spoilt to some extent by the possession of a driving license.

For once, I didn’t have to drive to this event as it was near enough (just about) to walk to. I did think that this could mean I could enjoy a drink but as it was I just had a solitary pint of Guinness. It turned out that they were charging “HOW SODDING MUCH!” per can. Yes, not only didn’t it come with change from a banknote (after my daughter’s orange juice was taken into account) but they didn’t even have the stuff on draught. I feel like I’ve been completely widgeted (a new word I have just coined meaning “to be fleeced for bad beer”).

Anyway, the concert went very well and my daughter found her way through Smells Like Teen Spirit, Sunshine Of Your Love, and a Coldplay song (the title of which escapes me) very well. It’s also noticeable how her playing has improved since Christmas when she played Iron Man, Smoke On The Water and a selection of Heavy Metal classic riffs to an appreciative if somewhat bemused selection of elderly women at the local old folks home. I’m not sure what’s next. Maybe I’ll point her in the direction of my Jimi Hendrix albums?