...& Bloody Good Fun.
OK, this was a hastily arranged gig - not confirmed until Tuesday afternoon - which left no time to organise any realistic publicity. Which meant that bugger all people turned up, & as we were playing for a cut of the door...
So I get a lift from the Guitarist (who
deserves the capital G) - Dave Briggs - & we fetch up at 7:30 for "the soundcheck" that duly takes place at 9:00. The soundman then insists on miking the kit up - in a pub that can probably hold 100-odd people max - & takes ages

. We hit the stage about 10-ish to an audience of 1) The Staff, 2) a couple of studenty types 3) The drummers' gf & her mate & 4) two very drunk Lithuanian Builders - one of whom appeared to be dead (until he got up & left at closing time - & you
don't want to know about the other one). Heigh-Ho, On with the Motley & that...
What a great couple of sets! Brilliant fun - a few fluffs but that's what comes of a dep gig (my last with these guys was back in October). Guitar sounded great (Strat > bit of wire > Fender Tweed Vibroverb), drummer laid it down good 'n' proper, Harp (Steve Matthews) blowing like a train &, even though I say it myself, THE best fretless bass sound I've had to date. Plenty of bottom end, but sufficient middlyness to poke thrugh so that (for once) I wasn't playing in Braille. I could feel it flapping me trousis and I could hear it even though I was right next to the rig. Superfly + Epi UL-110 + Flite 15 + SB-1000 = Win. Oh & I has a nice new blister from digging in.
So, why was it strange I hear you ask? Well... The Montague Arms has a reputation for being a bit odd & it's rightly deserved. In fact, I reckon that since the sale of the
Potter Collection that used to be at the Jamaica Inn in Cornwall, there may not be a pub in England that comes close to it for daftness. The decor can, at best, be described as eclectic & at worst bloody awful. Two stuffed Zebra heads (one in a stagecoach, naturally), misc other stuffed ungulates, a proper alchemical alligator over the bar (stuffed) & a couple of skeletons (one made up as a zombie in a coffin behind the fruit machine - as you do). Then there's the hardware... It's like someone's gone dumpster-diving in the kind of scrapyard that only exists in some kind of post-stilton fantasyland. Portholes, Ships' Telegraphs, an Anti-Aircraft spotlight, Diving Boots, a crossbow, two muskets, more broken clocks & oil lamps than can probably safely exist in one location, yet more assorted bits of dead animals fashioned into "objets d'art", a really crap 6' model of what I assumed to be HMS Victory (but wouldn't be prepared to bet on), another of either the Titanic (possibly) or the Lusitania (maybe) over the bar... Oh, and a really good selection of Proper Beer. I reckon the pub's worth more in scrap value than real-estate.
I made the princely sum of £8 (which covered my beer & tabs bill), had a whale of a time, & to top it all the guvnor's loved us and have offered a regular monthly Saturday night slot... Goldsmiths' College is just up the road... Blart, Beer, Blues & the potential for a spot of cash in the nuttiest pub in Christendom... My kinda gig.
Pete.