6/2/03 - The first gathering of UTI in 6 years, and in all that time I have not played my bass. Ohmygod we're all going to die horribly.
Shag (drums) and Pablo (guitar) are supposed to at the practice by 5:30, they are of course late. Followed by Martin (vox) at around 8:00ish and Paddy (fiddle) by 8:45.
Things start off terribly then gradually get a) better, and, c) louder.
It's been a long time but some things don't change.
9/2/03 - Sunday afternoon practice. It's getting better, things are gradually coming back and there is the distinct possibility we may get to pass away quietly in our sleep.
11/2/03 and 13/2/03 - Pablo is away this week so nothing much is happens.
18/2/03 - Pablo has had to put the practice back to Wednesday while he has his piles treated. Watch this space.
19/2/03 - Today's practice is also cancelled!!!
Ho humm.
This is a drummer. You can tell can't you.
20/2/03 - Well we're getting short of time but things are looking up.
23/2/03 - Another Sunday afternoon spent not nice and muddy on the mountain bike but in a dark and dingy room playing me guitar.
25/2/03 - It's starting to sound like a band.
26/2/03 - Just a short one and we're about as ready as we're going to get. Upon Paddy's suggestion that the last practice before a gig should be crap we agree to have one on Friday night and not turn up.
The birthday boy himself practicing his pointing. Dav gave him full marks for style and composition but failed him on direction for facing the wrong way.
Through the morning I innocently distract myself taking Tigger out for a thrash in the sunshine, by midday the sun has gone and the pre-gig nerves are kicking in.
OHMYGODWE'REALLGOINGTODIE.
The afternoon is spent buggering about with sound checks and stuff. The main band, Dark Angel, are sounding pretty good, I don't know about us because we never get a full check. Still Colin is on the desk and he knows his stuff.
Dark Angel been dark and angelic
Home, tea, shower, Andy & Jo's and then the party. Loads of people, some of which I haven't seen for too long. Denzil is ricocheting about doing his host routine, I say hello, grab a pint and sit down. Within minutes I've lost my beer, lost the plot and am getting dragged on stage for our set. It's not a pretty site, we're all far too sober for this game and sat in front of the stage is the buffet. Paranoia sets in. If I dance will I wind up face first in the cake? Will I knock Paddy off the stage and into the salad?
So we dive into the set and by cunningly stringing together a collection of cock-ups and mistakes convince everybody we know what we're doing. After about 30 minutes of utter tripe we slink off to rapturous applause and head to the bar to get quickly and mindlessly drunk.
By this time Denzil was kissing anything in site.
Here we see MikeJ getting a right long sloppy one.
Next up the main band, and they're pretty good (but there again what was the competition?), producing a good selection of rock and blues based numbers. Many people ended up dancing including Denzil although I do use the term "dancing" loosely.
The main bar closed about midnight at which point we all move into another which didn't.
And there we all stay until ...
Happy Birthday Denzil.
Happy party people
Dark Angel
Errr, this is dancing. Apparently.
And, No, I don't know what is stuck to her bum either.
Paddy about to realise the futility of it all.