Ian rush says if I didn't drink lots of milk...

Having your sat-nav take you directly to the front door of the venue with no wrong turnings or wasted time is as rare as it is satisfying, so we were on to a good start when we arrived in Accrington, the fact that snow was falling was just a bonus.

Even better, a crowd of fans had gathered by the parking bays to greet us, at least I think they were fans, they asked for autographs. Sadly they were too young to get in the venue, but they did know all the names of our instruments, so we made it up to them by letting them watch our tour cars for the duration of the gig, I think Jonny smiled and shook his hair about and I'm sure I heard one young lady swoon.

It did get a bit overwhelming when we walked into the venue, three old fellas who'd been waiting for the band for what must have been most of the day wandered over to say hello, ask us if we were playing and utter, I tell you no word of a lie, the following statement. "You're fucked *dramatic pause* we're you're audience!".

Now I have to be honest, as Andy has mentioned, we did for a few moments consider taking their words to heart and scarpering, but a quick look in the three pairs of eyes we faced showed no signs of real danger, just some toothy grins and a strong sense of humour. So we settled down, shared beers and got on with the gig, and it was a whole lot of fun, we had a good time on stage, the small audience had a good time, admittedly, a lot of that good time was had just outside having a smoke, but sometimes that's the best way to appreciate a bit of upbeat rock 'n' folk indie pop, there was even a bit of a two man jig and a good deal of hand clapping. One guy also offered us a bit of advice; "Music quieter, vocals louder, I wanna hear the words!", which I took as a personal insult, nobody ever asks us to turn that cockney's mic down so they can hear the bass. Words, my arse.

In sincerity, when you're starting out you do end up playing to some audiences you didn't expect, and often those audiences are in single figures, and it's easy to look on the downside of that, but to be honest, I'd much rather have a good time playing to last night's fuzzy chinned handful than look out at a roomful of judgemental eyes who are too busy trying to work out who our influences are and how we've progressed on them, or why I'm sometimes only plucking with one finger, to remember that live music is something you're supposed to enjoy, hell, even dance to.

Thanks to the Ice Band, if they ever read this, for letting us come and play with them, they didn't have to, and bands helping bands out is always appreciated.

Oh yeah, then as Andy said we rushed home and had a do at the Ferret Open Mic, a quick four song set after playing the worst game of pool in human history. Cheers to the mysterious Frenchman who let me borrow his bass, even though he'd already packed it away in the van. I was at a gig on Monday where a man on stage, playing with a borrowed bass, excused himself to the audience with the line "Playing someone else's bass is like running a marathon in someone else's feet.", I'll curse myself till the day I forget for not having the gall to shout out loud what i merely muttered to my mates ("No it isn't"), but no, no it isn't. If we're going to use his silly analogy it's actually like walking to the shops with your shoelaces untied. If you stop paying attention there's a decent chance you'll fall on your face, but chances are you'll probably be fine.

I think I was probably fine, but I did have to keep a close eye on my shoelaces.

Now... to listen to those recordings so loud that my neighbours move out.

Russ