What kind of idiot runs out of petrol?

This kind of idiot.

I used to mock people who allowed such a foolish thing to happen on their watch, and mock with relish. You have a gauge, a warning light, and basic arithmetic, you'd have to be a major pleb to find yourself stuttering to a halt on a very inconvenient road through the centre of Leeds. Well, I take it back, mostly, it turns out all you have to be is a little overly frugal, to go with what's in your pocket and hope for the best. Well, we made it to the gig in the end, and while I was jogging across Leeds for fuel, Jonny Swift left me a nice note to read every time my windscreen steams up.

From where I sat the whole day was a bit like this, always on the edge of going the wrong way but never quite tipping. The ninety minutes it took us to get out of Preston thanks to the school run, the traffic that circled Manchester and the works in the road as we approached Leeds' city walls, the temporary breakdown and guesswork navigation, the lack of soundcheck and genuine fear that we may end up playing simply to some darkened pool tables and disinterested cuesmiths.

But at every turn things just worked out, we arrived, the venue was good, the crowd were excellent, really excellent, and the night out after, well, I'm missing some important keys, my legs are cut, I've dull aches everywhere and the bank manager wants to have a word with me, but I'd do it again tomorrow if I didn't think it would break me.

Russ, The Under Estimator

Ten English Pounds, One schoolboy error

I have often wondered exactly how much it costs to drive from Preston to Leeds in a 1990s Citroen Xantia. At 6pm on Friday, one hour before we had to be at the evening's gig venue, I found out.

We had bought what we thought was enough petrol and thought nothing more about it until we coughed and spluttered to an embarrassing halt on a busy slip road precisely 1.6 miles from our destination.

Having pushed the car to safety, Russ set off walking to the nearest petrol station, a 2-mile round trip that funnily enough meant he would have been quicker walking to the venue.

Left to make our own amusement, me and Jonny stuck to the basics: "I spy with my little eye, something beginning with P..."

Premier Inn. Yes. Oh, and a sign next to the car that reads "No parking at any time". So, whether we made the gig at all depended on who arrived at the car first, Russ or the wheel clamping company.

Russ arrived first. The gig went well. I'd recommend The Elbow Room both as gig a venue and as a drinking establishment. I'd also strongly recommend the Cockpit as somewhere to go afterwards.. despite what the rest of Leeds will tell you.

All's left is to say thanks to everyone who came, took notice, took a cd, said nice things, let us sleep at their houses, looked after our gear and gave us directions to the nearest petrol station.

Oh, incidentally, it costs about a tenner to drive from Preston to Leeds in a 1990s Citroen Xantia. Just over, to be precise.

Dan

Eh? Unending loops

The title of this blog has nothing to do with what I'm about to write about. I just wanted to share the fact I spent yesterday at the recording of TV show, Countdown. The title is an anagram, I'm pretty sure you'll be able to work it out.

I'll have a Consonant

G

Vowel

I

Consonant

G

It is time for another gig. This time we return to my hometown, Leeds. I like Leeds for a variety of reasons, one of them being the music it has on offer. It's great to be getting back involved in it and checking out the new places that have cropped up. Tomorrow, we'll be playing at the Elbow Rooms, a venue I have yet to play at. I have been before so know what to expect but always good to experience the other side. Why don't you come and share this experience?

Andy

Local drinks and cheeky winks.

People came out especially to watch us. Not out of friendship related obligation, not because they probably would have been there anyway and we just happened to be on, they wanted to watch One English Pound play a gig.

Later, strangers were caught bobbing along to the songs.

Can't ask for more than that really, home town gigs in front of your mates are always gonna be charting in the fun stakes, and when they come with bonus features like that it definitely makes for a good night. Mistakes were made and there's some tidying to be done before future outings but it all seemed to go alright in general. It's starting to feel a bit more relaxed now, the tunes a bit more second nature, feeling more used to playing together and happy getting up in front of the room. It's always easier at the Ferret, it's a good set up and a welcoming vibe, but obviously in a room full of peers there's always that little extra motivation to want to get things right, so when you can come off stage smiling it's good times. The fact you don't have to faff about with loading and driving and can just get on with the serious business of post-gig celebrations is a luxury that should never be overlooked either.

Thanks to everyone that came down, and everyone that said nice things afterwards, and everyone who intends to come again. Hopefully a couple of new recordings online in a very short while, some new songs in the practice room, and a big night out in Leeds in a couple of weeks (feel free to join us on that, a Friday night out in Leeds is a top do indeed).

Oh, and a nice man called Mark video recorded one of our songs if you want a looksie, featuring accidental pedal activation at the end too, see that?



My spellchecker says 'alright' isn't a word. You try telling Supergrass that.

Russ

Lucky breaks and empty ballrooms

It's a grounding reality for every fledgling band such as ourselves that the endless hours of weaving melodies around poetical ramblings must be supplemented with a day job. Hard to believe, but true.

Yesterday, a work colleague voiced his concerns about his own band, saying that people just don't pay into gigs anymore and that it is becoming evermore difficult to get that one big 'lucky break'.

I know that being in a band is high followed by low and sellouts balanced by doubts. But I have never believed in a 'lucky breaks'.

If you are going to make it 'big' then things have to fall for you, to an extent, but only because you have put yourself in a position to be noticed, and the more often you do that, the more chance you have of it working.

You can't expect people to pay £5 to see an act they've never heard of on a piss-wet Monday evening, and much less expect a stray record company big cat to wander into a big empty ballroom spattered with 12 of your mates only to shower you with money and whisk you off on a world tour.

I explained to this chap that the low points were half the challenge of being in a band and asked if they'd done their promo properly. Had they enquired about support slots with bigger bands? Surely, if you seize your chance and really play well and hit it off socially with a bigger band when you support them, then they may just offer you a tour.

Had they badgered national radio presenters and their favourite artists, celebrities or sporting heroes via Facebook and Myspace etc? Surely, once you have someone in the public eye on your side and they can mention you in the press or play your song to millions of people then you've opened a huge door for yourself.

"You seem to at least have a business brain on you, we could do with someone like that," came his response.

A business brain? Hardly. I don't sit at home with action plans and spreadsheets working out the best time to catch Steve Lamacq on his lunch hour for an impromptu verse of Killing Me Softly.

I work purely with what every single singer-songwriter should have: an overwhelming sense of naivity.

Sure it may be unlikely that Kasabian will read my message and say 'shit, these guys are good, lets get them on tour'. But then again, why the hell not?

It's also unlikely that Russell Brand will recieve the CD, let alone listen to it, like it and then mention us somewhere in the great celebrity ether - but if you don't believe that it can happen then what's the point? But if it did happen, it wouldn't be a lucky break - because we would have put ourselves in that position in the first place.

Personally, I'm none too worried yet for knockbacks or the odd empty gig. I love playing music, meeting different people and dragging our mates out for a knees-up, safe in the knowledge that if that cult classic album eludes us and if we fail to leave a long-term legacy then we can always aim for a Christmas Number One!

Dan

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

If there was ever a gig that needed an entourage……

A few weeks back when all that white stuff was on the ground we had a gig scheduled in the town of Accrington. This had to be rescheduled and off went to Accrington on the 17th February. The most observant ones amongst you would have realised we had recently been in the recording studio. Just before setting off to Accrington we received the first batch of mixes to the songs we had toiled with just a few days earlier.

This prompted the drivers of the band to load the two songs onto their respective I-pods ready for a good listen on the way to Accrington. We arrived in Accrington in very good spirits. There was still work to be done with the songs but we were very happy with the initial results. It was at this point our spirit stock very nearly crashed.

The Hope and Anchor Pub is a local pub for local people (about 8 people to be precise) with a great jukebox and a somewhat intimidating atmosphere. Useful tip. always check out the pub before you load your gear in. We were now trapped hoping the other band wouldn't arrive. Minutes later, they arrive. We offered to help the other band bring their gear in as they were providing the PA. This was answered with a firm NO! This was funny.

Nothing left to do but play. This was actually enjoyable if you excuse the stage invasion, (I should mention if a lady wanted to go the toilet, they had to get there via the stage) some drunken dancing and the applause from one person after each song.

Gig done and now to load everything back into the cars. Normally a simple task but when the cars are surrounded by a yob of teenagers enjoying half-term, it isn't as simple. We ducked and dived the taunts with efficiency in mind. We reconvened into the safety of the pub (correct, safety of the pub) to discuss our exit strategy without being rude to the other band. This was actually pretty easy, we asked, said sorry, and boom, back to Preston.

Night over? Oh no! Not for One English Pound. It's only 10pm, shall we go to the open mic night at the Mad Ferret? Sure why not! We enter the doors of the Mad Ferret, "Hey guys, do you want to play?" Sure why not! What a good idea this turned out to be and Role Model received it's first "crowd clapping along" moment.

Night over? Erm Yeah. Good night!

Andy