View from my tent. Oh the hardship.
So on Sat afternoon I did a solo set at this beach hut stage, which was an incredible construction on wheels that opened out, it had been built by an awesome team at Devon Woodcraft; had beautiful sort of fish scale tiles on the outside and a grassy garden roof. I want one. Then I could call it the bitch hut, and drive around the country towing it and living in different places. I forgot my guitar strap which meant I had to sit down, couldn’t really use the loop pedal and the whole thing had more of an afternoon feel to it. A toddler dancer though, and babies don’t lie about what they like. The band on before me were a bunch of Bristol youths, ploughing an enjoyable post Levellers furrow, but they refused to lend me a guitar strap. Hmmm. They will learn this is not the Tao of the travelling musician.
I went to sleep gently swished and swooshed by the waves, which was wonderful. The next day was wet, but people were valiant and stayed out for our set. Jason arrived in the nick of time from London, we played to the Atlantic ocean and the bedraggled festival pennants and then enjoyed the brilliant set of Neil Halstead. Everyone should check him out. Lovely voice, lovely songs.
Llama fest is in the village of Lynmouth/Lynton which is stunning, set in dramatic hills and cliffs on the coast. It has a water powered funicular, allegedly commissioned by a wealthy fellow in the early 20th c whose big car wouldn’t fit round the corners. It’s amazing, and also lends itself to carry on style jokes ‘carry on up the funicular’ etc.
Carry on up the funicular
So after that I headed off to Bristol, and Jason returned to London heroically the same day.
The next day was gig number four, at Mr Wolf’s in Bristol. It rained a lot, but the people were nice, the complimentary noodles delicious, and the other band was rather an interesting bass and drum band with a great singer, called Kali Mur. A few football fans wandered in. Someone decided I looked like Bjork. So for the rest of the evening it was ‘Oi, Bjork, play ‘it’s oh so quiet” etc. They were, shall we say, in high spirits, so it was a good lesson in how to affably absorb interjections.
Then back to Edinburgh. In store in Coda music with This is the Kit and Rozi Plain, a wet Tuesday afternoon, not that many people there which meant more cake for us, but they sounded great.
This is the Kit, Rozi Plain, instore at Coda music
Then on to the gig. I really enjoyed the evening-lots of pals came, Plum opened up and she was great-would like to hear her in a banging club one day. I had some handsome backing musicians who were grand, it was fun playing with them after playing on my own.
Next installment coming. Need to go swimming.