Mark's Blog - Archive 2006

Christmas 2006
Yuletide Blog, or Log, Ah Ah!

Now there i go again, playing with words, etc.
Its the time of year again when i can put pen to paper and thank you all for turning out, come rain or shine to support us throughout the UK and indeed, abroad.
What i can tell you for sure, is that for some reason we are all very tired this year ending, and in need of a complete rest from seeing the ass end of another juggernaut fly past us on some motorway somewhere in Europe.
As i write Gerry is locked up in his bolt hole in Paris, Dennis is beavering around his two boys, encouraging them with their drumming skills, and Brendan is busy in his wine cellar, hiding all his best ones so that i cant see them. Brendan has a remarkable collection of old wines and whiskeys down in his dungeon, and is fast becoming an expert with a fantastic nose for a good wine,......well a fantastic nose full stop if you look at the size of it.

We all steer well away from each other when not working, and incredibly rarely socialise outside work. We used to get together with wives and girlfriends at Christmas once a year at the Crooked Billet in Henley on Thames, but that is now sadly a thing of the past after a scene from an imaginary western curtailed yet another avenue of pleasure to us.

Moving on, personally, ive had a nightmare of a year with Major family health problems, and running backwards and forwards to the hospital for nine months now, so on a personal front i will be glad to see the back of this year.

I hope you enjoyed the sights and sounds DVD, and if you cringed at it, i can guarantee that volume two will leave vol one in the shade with regard to moments i would be happy never to see again. We will of course be filming a live acoustic show up in Cumbria in Jan, so i guess it will be "all up the gym lads" come Jan 1st...., I jest of course.

We have new material on the back burner, and at some stage in 2007 get locked into a studio somewhere and record.
I must also add that it really is heart warming to think that you take valuable time out to write to the message forum and let us know your feelings, we are not stupid enough to think that all mail will be positive, but will endeavour to answer personally all your questions.

We also hope folks, to push into France a little more next year, so we hope to post new French dates to you just as soon as Gerrys office confirms. Gerry also informed me of a possible Brazil or Argentina trip that has been threatening to happen for some time now?

America remains elusive as ever, as does Japan and Australia, but we would love to get out to these places as we receive orders from far away into our online shop, so we know that we could work there, hence, any distant promoters out there interested, just get in touch with Gerry at Bassline on the contacts part of this site.

I must thank Norma and Bob for their tireless work at Zed Merchandise shop in Devon for making sure that your orders run smoothly, Norma is Dennis mother, and believe me she is meticulous with regard to this side of the business, so worry not, you are in safe hands.

Ok, all this leaves me now to say to you from the four of us, is that we sincerely wish you a happy and healthy Christmas and new year, and will see you in a venue near to you some where? next year.

Oh! im not quite finished, we still have two shows to do in Leeds and Ripley this week, Quick, quick, get that ironing board out son and remember what your mother always said,. "Dont talk to no strange men"

God bless you all,

Mark, Brendan,Gerry and Dennis. xxx

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Holy touring blues band Batman ! (European leg, October 2006)

Good morning, good people out there in cyberland. I'm sitting here with the sun streaming into my new apartment (Old block was positively geriatric), see previous blog, and I'm just recovering from many largely enjoyable miles on the road across Europe during the last two weeks.

We kicked off the campaign with a pleasant drive in the tour bus from my home in Kent down to Folkestone and the Euro shuttle under the Straits of Dover, and resurfaced at Calais on the third of October. Our destination was the Spirit of 66 club in Vervier in Belgium. This, in my opinion, is one of the great clubs to play in Europe at this time, and our host Francis who owns the club, has done much to keep the club afloat during difficult times when it could so easily have gone under. A great night was the net result and i think all went home happy.

October the fourth was a 500km drive up to the magnificent Hamburg. We now use Gerry's laptop and Microsoft Maps software instead of the monotonous voice of sat-nav guiding us, as the guys almost threw the last one out of our tour coach, (see previous blog again).

We were greeted by the lovely Uve, and his staff to a large glass of champagne after the long drive to his club, the Downtown blues club, that is situated in their equivalent to our Hyde Park in London.

We had not played the club for seven odd years and it felt good to be back there, in fact Uve extended his hospitality to inviting us all to Dinner the following night with the 60's Merseybeat star Mr King-size Taylor, who apparently was much admired by Lennon & McCartney in his heyday, in fact he still performs live with his band today, and has now married the young German love of his life, despite both of them having been married in between, and had families too,...It was funny hearing a Scouse/Hamburg accent over dinner.

The 6 October and off to the equally intoxicating Blues Garage in Hannover (150km) where our fantastic host Henry, had forgotten to order our hired musical equipment, a quick dash in his all American 4x4 to the Music company, and we just about made show time with enough time to spare for a Radio/Magazine interview too.

The 7th oct, and an early morning dash to Hannover Airport, for our flight to Paris Charles de Gaulle airport.

We were met by a strange but slightly nervous guy who insisted we call him by the name Batman! Now I ask you to consider this, I didn't know this guy from Adam, yet a grown man, me, is formally calling this man Batman... I felt such a wally when saying "Excuse me Batman, but what time is pick up from the Hotel)?

I would always be careful when over glamorising a situation, but this Paris show was as near to Beatle mania, as I had ever seen on any of our shows in 25 years.

It was badly lit, a difficult room, sound wise, it was roasting hot, we were all suffering colds, yet there was a magic about this show and a bond with our loyal French fans.

The next morning was a killer as we had only four hours sleep as we were picked up at 5am, for our flight back to Hannover and a 750 km drive to Vienna. I had forgotten just how grand Vienna was, and it looked Majestic in the Autumnal early evening sunshine as we arrived.

Our show in Vienna went great, aided by a great sound engineer there. Thank you Sir.

The morning of the 10th, and we headed out of Vienna for the 450 km drive into Bavaria, and the small town of Ingolstadt, just north of Munich. This was very much a small intimate blues club, and was sold out days in advance. The show was a stormer, and we ate Irish stew, cooked by a Bavarian after the show. Perfect.

The 11th October and off to Grossbottwar, (400km) just north of Stuttgart this time and also close to sold out, and although, battling with the horrendous acoustics in the concert room, we were very well looked after and the show went into two encores.

Switzerland the next day and a drive of 300 km, to the town of Aarberg, and the great Moonwalker gig, we have a nice following there and the same folks return year after year to see us, We had a couple of guests on stage from the Swiss band the Bluesaholics, and we thank them sincerely for making it another special night.

The next day was a cosy 70km to Schiliern on the western suburbs of Zurich, for our intimate concert at the key North club and a fantastic reception from the loyal following for the guests that seem yet again to return every time. We thank Rolf too, for being a gentleman and supplying us with enough sweets and overnight bags to see us into October next year.

Gerry Brendan and Ashley, our Sound tech, drove home yesterday, the coathanger (Dennis) and I, flew home from Basel.

Right! Tescos Calls, See Ya, Mxx

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From the bottom of England, to the ankle of Italy. Sept 2006.

Hello all,
Firstly, i must apologise for not posting sooner, but we had a change in our webmasters office address, and it has slowed things down a little. The blog will return to its rightful place on the main website soon. (See!)
It has been yet another eventful weekend, as we had three shows in three days which took us from the bottom of England (literally), in the the small town of Havant, close to the south coast of England, down to the Ankle of Italy (assuming Italy is the drawing of a boot) to the coastal town of Tropea in Calabria, via Twickenham in SW London for Marsha McDonnel charity day, (See forum).
The Havant show was a real Ball and an intimate little venue that we will surely return to soon as the band were on good form i think? from having a short break.
On Saturday we headed off to Twickenham in SW London to play a short 45 min set for our dear friends the McDonnell's, who cruelly lost their daughter to a maniac in wait after Marsha alighted the late bus home, you may remember this case on Crimewatch. I wont dwell on the negative here suffice to say that the band among other musicians, performed late into the night and various singers and players did their bit for Phil And Ute McDonnell.

We would have dearly liked to stay longer at the Twickenham venue but had to be at Stansted for our 4.30 check in,..we had slept just three hours.
We headed off very red eyed down on the 3 hour Ryanair flight to Calabria, and was at Tropea town before Midday. The Hotel was a strange, "Prisoner Camp" type of affair and all guests were German,..We were the only Brits there among two or three hundred holiday makers, it seemed very odd because they were there to rest and us to play (if you get my meaning),..I was only saying to the guys a week before that i miss a swim in the Sea as my last holiday to Lanzarote, or Lanzagrotty was a disaster as i was fully welcomed to dine with the Elderly in the Burnley annual SAGA club holiday. I had to shower in the room as it was the only way to keep warm, and as the week went by, a North African wind storm had cut visibility down to fifty metres. Never again will I go away alone, or where im the youngest by thirty years.

The Celebrity Chefs in this band are Brendan and Dennis, they are passionate about their Rare Virgin olive oils, the best pastas, the best places to find the pastas, and all things cuisine, in fact, they enthuse more about Blueberry Pie than Blues music, and to be honest when they start talking food, i just close shop.
To be honest, its a wonderful thing, and im just jealous really, as a Pork Chop, Grilled, is tackled with some difficulty by yours truly.

I digress, the show was yet again in a lovely Piazza, and many people attended, including British tourists who came and said Hello. We headed back to the airport this morning,to arrive back at Stansted this afternoon.

I must mention too, the first time that Brendan's two lovely girls Jen and Kath, opened the set for their Dad in Twickenham. I guess it must have been a little nerve racking, but they came through shining.

Thank you for letting me ramble on,

Feltham.

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The things we do for love - July 2006

Hello all, just resting today, the 24th of July, after a gruelling but fun three days in and out of Belgium and a couple of summer festivals en -route.
Our weekend kicked off in the remote Oxfordshire town of Ascott, (not to be confused with Ascot in Berkshire), our drive there was particularly nasty as the A40 was gridlocked for many miles,as we were left sweltering in the car in the afternoon heatwave that has recently knocked on our door.
The Festival site was a huge, Woodstock like place in vast open spaces of prime English countryside. We were to be playing just prior to folk musician Richard Thompson, and exchanged some idle banter with him in the VIP area backstage,..He was a quiet man and seemed a deeply thoughtful soul,..I liked him.
We need not have worried re spotlights on Stage, as the sun was torturing us as it was still quite high in the early evening sky.
To suck and blow a harmonica is a difficult enough job in this band, as its full on, sometimes, so i could have cursed Dennis when he demanded i sang four tunes in a row too, in the heat.!!!
It was a lovely evening,and how a festival should be, and we wish the organisers well in this new venture.
The next morning (Sat) and we were off again via the channel tunnel to Calais,and the 100 km East to Oostende and the duneside town of Breeden. It was an odd sort of place, and in fact it was the place where Marvin Gaye spent some quiet time wandering along the beach just before he returned home to the US to be shot dead by his father.
The show was a stormer, and we narrowly missed the menacing dark clouds above that threatened to curtail the concert.
On Sunday were back on the channel tunnel train the other way and back to England for our eventual destination of the Trowbridge roots festival in Wiltshire.
It was packed when we got there,with thousands of all different types of people in attendance, including Bob Dylan Lookalikes and Joni Mitchell ones too.
Oh, i must mention the fabulous sunday lunch supplied en-route by Paul and his Staff at the crooked Billet Rest/Pub in Stoke Row Henley on Thames. Thank you Paul.

Yesterday was a special day for Dennis too, as it was his birthday. He actually sat backstage in our dressing room with Suzanne Vega talking about his love for US band the Smithereens. Suzanne had just flown in from Nice and barely made the show, and she seemed a really calm,nice person.
Our show time loomed 12.20 am, and we had to follow a 8 piece Mexican band who had ripped the crowd up into a frenzy.
Eventually we got on-stage and played to a fantastic audience that had endured a whole weekend of music,yet were still up for one last party,..as indeed it was.
We headed out of the site and one last long drive home, back to London,and some well deserved sleep.

I have just woke, and written to you before next week looms,

Have fun, Felts.

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Mad Brits and Irishmen fly out to the midday sun - June 2006

Hello Folks,

Phew! So much has happened this last couple of weeks, Where do I start?

Well, please allow me to tell you firstly, and briefly about an enquiry that came into our myspace site, asking if I would like to contribute to a record with a band in San Diego, California.   I didn't need much time to think about this one as the producer was Tim Palmer, who I did the first couple of Texas records with.

I was off last week and was ready to fly over, when Tim said can you record it in London for me?... Damn I thought, I would of loved a paid holiday in California, but sense prevailed and with the help of modern technology, the session was recorded in London, and sent as a file via computer to California, and the producer was able to listen to what i had played immediately, half-way around the world. Wonderful!

The guys and myself have had one hell of a week folks, and what we have crammed into a week of life, is mind-boggling...

We left London last Saturday at 5am to fly BA to Lyon/Heathrow in France to play the Sathonay blues festival. Sathonay is an old military town just outside Lyon.

World cup fever had gripped all of Europe last week, and Dennis and I were no exception as we watched the Hotel lobby TV from an impossible angle in the foyer.

After the match my head was locked in painful (looking upward position) and made me feel sick.

The weather was very hot and sticky that afternoon, and we were luckily spared the thunderstorms, that rattled around Lyon that night.

The people that looked after us and the festival were a really friendly bunch, and the band and I thank you for your kindness... Needless to say the midnight show was a blast, and we were back at Heathrow at 1pm next day.

On wed June 28th we were up again at 4am for the Stansted-Milan flight. The unbearable oppressive sticky damp heat was not at all pleasant in Milan that day as we ate al fresco in Central Milan for lunch.

We crashed out in luxury and splendour, courtesy of a nicely refurbed hotel for a couple of hours before sound check.

Our concert was in an open area within a new commercial complex within 5 mins of downtown Milan.

It was around about an hour before show time that Gerry received his first love bite, that is Mosquitoes loving to bite him on his hand and it got very swollen and ugly too... I was quick to follow, as was bitten on the head and leg, Brendan followed.

Now i hear you murmur, "bunch of wimps", but in fact, Gerry is very bad with mosquito bites, and he recalled a funny story to me when he went on holiday to the Camargue with his family a couple of years ago.

It is famous in that area for its expertise with riding and horses etc, so off Gerry went, refusing protection and rode bareback, across the dunes of the Camargue, and needless to say got badly bitten in the process, in fact he had been bitten over 70 times, and was seriously considering medical late night call out, as he started having Cardiac palpitations that night.

We played a great show that night, with the wonderful Leno handling our out front sound for us.

We thank our hosts for looking after us yet again.

England was progressing slowly but surely through the world cup, and Den and I was monitoring the situation as to where we would be on the next England game...

Friday the 30th of June was a terrible start for me. I had an early alarm call at 3 am and Dennis and Brendan were going to pick me up at 3.45am. I had planned meticulously, and cleaned my harmonicas and microphones the night before.

I was up as bright as a daisy.

I live in an apartment block of 26 homes. I needed to take the black rubbish plastic bag down to the bin area, I didn't want to make two journeys, so decided when the guys arrived i would take it down when leaving.

"WE ARE DOWNSTAIRS MARK" Dennis said when the car arrived... down I went with all my stuff, left it in the downstairs lobby and went outside to get rid of the bin in the refuse area.

This was a gaffe of the highest order as the door closed behind me, locking me out, and my gear inside the apartment block, including the keys.

"You silly bastard" was on their minds, I know, as I could read their minds at that time.

Now try to consider this... I live alone, it was still and dark, it was three in the morning, and although I have lived there for 6 years, the residents are a miserable crowd of soulless individuals and i know none of them.

How was I going to get back into the block and rescue my cases?

It was obvious; I just had to wake the whole block up via the intercom, in addition to banging on the downstairs windows accessible only through prickly rose bushes, Nightmare.

Three guys tuned up after 5 mins in their underpants, none knew each other. I thanked them, I ran for the car, the guys were seriously fed up with me, in fact I was fed up with me too.

We arrived at Heathrow at 5 am for our first flight at 6.20 am with the most miserable airline in the world, Iberia. Our destination was Barcelona.

After a quick snack we had boarded our 2nd flight to Alicante, where we arrived in searing heat at midday for the Hour journey to San Javier and our eventual concert in the fantastic setting of the outdoor theatre there. It's an annual event, and the Neville brothers headlined an impressive bill that went on all month long.

Gerry, Brendan and myself braved the energy sapping heat and went ahead and did the sound check.

We played a nice set that night to a very appreciative audience, and all went really well.

The next day was a long long drive, 500 km across Andalucia and of course England's clash with Portugal. Dennis is a walking time bomb anyway, so add to this a big match and a concert that night; it could have all been a very special day.

Wilko Johnson was to be playing that night with us, with his band of Norman Watt-Roy on Bass and Monty on drums, but they had missed the flight from Heathrow, so were now going to arrive very late in the evening.

The Journey across the plains and desert of Andalucia was very special on Saturday, and of course the Clint Eastward spaghetti westerns were filmed there, and you can see why, with vast open expanses punctuated with small villages along the way.

As we motored across this scorched earth, a burst of colour was always present, in the form of Azalea or Bourgonveilia type shrubs? in a 3 metre wide central reservation on the A roads, and I remember thinking why cant we do this here in the UK?

We arrived in the small, very remote town of Peunte Genile with just two mins to spare for kick off.

Dennis and i perched ourselves at the hotel bar and had the whole wide screen thing in front of us. A Spaniard in front of us played the fruit machine and hit the Jackpot, 160 Euro, the noise of the falling coins and coffee brewing irritated me, Gerry joined us from his room above.

Sound check was going to be after 90 mins and the full-time whistle.

More Spaniards poured into the bar in this desolate place, Den and I were edge of our seats, jumping around and getting very nervous... this was a surreal situation now, two Englishmen and a host of characters in a bar in the middle of very Spanish Spain, not your normal tourist spot here, in fact, I would guess that very few tourists ever reach this outpost.

90 mins, nil, nil, we agreed to do the sound check for Dennis, and Brendan Gerry and myself left the hotel for the now 38 degree heat and the concert arena.

Sms` from the UK confirmed we had lost after penalties. I knew Greaves would have a mood on when we got back to the hotel, and sure enough he did.

The coat hanger (Greaves' big shoulders for being a champion swimmer at school) was not talking to anyone and promptly locked himself away in his room.

Wilko Johnson arrived halfway through our show that night, and followed us on stage, we stayed and watched his show, and all got on famously. The coat hanger is a huge fan of Wilko.

Sunday 1st, yesterday, and both bands were on the tour coach back to Malaga, with our drivers brilliant collection of 70`s obscure records sitting just nicely as a backdrop to our hilarious chit-chat with Wilko en route to the airport.

We had a short flight to Madrid, then problems began again, well it always does on a Sunday for us. We boarded our second flight at Madrid, and who should be sitting next to me,?    the coat hanger himself of course... Its bad enough being squashed up on modern airliners, but even worse when Mr Greaves sits next to you as the shoulders invade you airspace as it were (boom boom)!

We sat, motionless, and sat and sat. Iberia held the flight up, as a connecting flight had not yet arrived.

40 mins later the whole of Spain's pubescent youth marched on the plane, and with it, the whole of Spain's hormones kicking in, resulting in a BO aroma that we had to live with for the next 2 hours.

At last! Heathrow, "Quick, lets let to the baggage hall and out of here".

1 hour and 50 mins later our bags finally got to the carousel. We had been at the carousel longer than our flight from Madrid.

Anyway its now Monday morning at around 11am and I'm frightened to show my face outside of my door, just in case underpants man, men? Reprimand me.

Thanks for listening, Mark.

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Norway - June 2006
I saw a Moose, "where?" there on the verge, "where on the verge?" right there..

Hello Folks,

This trip out to Norway looked plain sailing enough on paper, but in reality, it was far from it.
It was a nice flight time of around midday on thursday June 8th with Norwegian air from London Stansted, so i headed off via Dennis and Brendans location at 8.30 am to pick the guys up.
We met Gerry and our great mate Pete Wingfield at check-in to be told there was a problem with Norwegian air traffic control and that there was now a three hour delay.
We sat for what seemed like an eternity peering out into the Airport sunshine from inside our glass tomb (the terminal building).
We eventually got under way at around 3.50pm, and into Trondheim at 7pm, and was met by a gentle giant of a man, Kurt, who picked us up and placed 5 tired guys into the tour bus.

We headed off North into the Norwegian wilderness for the town of Bronnoysund in Rain, fog, and general bad weather. The first thing that struck us was that although it was getting later into the journey it was not getting any darker.
We rambled on into the night, or light, should i say, and past an eerie looking lake, that had a sinister history, for in the sixties, parents of a young girl had murdered their daughter in the lake, and Kurt said that there are no fish or life in the lake because of this, and many a truck driver had seen a figure spookily appear in the drivers cab when driving past the expanse of water.

We thundered on through magnificent scenery and breathtaking openness, when i noticed in the eerie light ahead of us a wild Moose, that had ventured out of the forest and on to the grass verge of the road. What a magnificent sight to see this 2 metre high grey beast looking nervously at us from no more than 30 metres away.

On and on we drove through this midnight daylight, when our driver Kurt informed us that our ferry had stopped running and that we must re-rote and detour around the north side of the fjord in order to get to our destination. We had already been on the tour bus 5 hours, and the last agonising 90 minutes was a killer, as we were all extremely tired.

We arrived at Bronnoysund at 1.30am after leaving London 8.30 am the previous morning. A seventeen hour journey, and possibly a record?

The concert the next night was in a kind of large wooden fish -market type of building on the harbour, we took stage at midnight, and all went well and all seemed to leave happy enough, albeit drunk.

The next morning and we were off again, (this time with ferry) back to Trondheim, and via Kurts friends bar for lunch and the second half of the England world cup match.

We eventually hit Trondheim at around 7pm for soundcheck and quick shower for our show for the Trondheim blues society in the basement club of the hotel above.
Our show went really well, although we did battle with unfriendly natural acoustics throughout, and also a large pillar in front of Gerrys mic and a chandelier above my stage position dangling perilously close to my head!

I would urge you to consider now that on the morning of leaving we had not seen any night-time darkness for three days, it had been constant daylight, and very deceiving to the brain.
Horrible.

We arrived at Trondheim airport for the journey home to the heat of London, and of course another 90 minute delay by air traffic control in Stavanger, Norway.

I thank Kurt, Pete Wingfield, and the nervous Moose that gave to me the realisation that we are indeed really lucky to observe the world as we travel through Europe.

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An Interlude - May 2006

Hello All, seeing that our travels have slowed down a little in preparation for our all out assault on the festivals this summer, i thought i would share a little of my memories of a lifetime in music with you.

My Grandfather was a civil engineer working in Persia in the 30`s and in those days you would go out by ship from Tilbury on the Thames Estuary.
Now you may be thinking what does this, and indeed my grandfather,have to do with a life in music? Well Charles Hawkins was directly resonsible for me playing the harmonica,as he used to bring them home from the long journeys out to Iran on the merchant ships of the time.

He saved all these harmonicas during the forties, waiting one day for a grandson to come along, so bearing this in mind, i had no other option than to alternate the bottle and dummy with a Hohner tremolo harmonica in my mouth.

Moving on, i never really wanted to become a professional musician, and my hours and hours of religious practise bolted up in a bedroom with my twin sisters nagging me to "Give that noise a rest" just fuelled me on to become more focussed and gaining a standard whereby i could entertain relations.

I was a terribly shy kid, and to this day, i still dont feel comfortable in a profession where none of my family were at all musical. My parents were fiercely working class and we were happy but never spoilt in a tough S/E London environment.

Dennis Greaves was wholly responsible for pulling me out of the safety of a bedroom, and on to a stage. I never did forvive him.
Its was a strange coincidence how we met, as incredible as it sounds, he only lived ten doors away from me.
My memories are of my first gig in front of anyone other than my sisters in Croydon at a function for a company bash i think, around 1977. Dennis was as sharp as a razor in his immaculate mod suit, where the creases would take the tips of you fingers off, i, on the other hand resembled Englebert Humperdink in my flairs and stack heel shoes,..I was hopelessly out of date, Dennis was on the button.
Den and i have always been opposites, but we know what each other is thinking sometimes, especially onstage.
As an intresting parrallell to this, Brendan and Gerry were having an almost identical initiation in troubled Belfast, they have been close friends longer than Den and I.

Anyway, some memories that have stood out for you to digest, are Dennis and i getting our first break to hit the big time to play dingwalls club, and after the the euphoria of such a booking, losing his great friend, his Dad,( a couple of days earlier,) in his 40s.
He showed remarkable courage and maturity at the time, and we actually played Dingwalls as a tribute to his father that night. I remember that night as it were yesterday.

Moving on again, after i did the Deacon blue record, with Ricky Ross, and backstage at the Hammersmith Odeon, he beamed at me "i want you to come on, do a couple of dance steps twist and start playing" ...well i have 2 left feet, so you can imagine how i felt at this suggestion... I may have been able to play a few licks on the harmonica, but i was no Fred Astaire.
New Model Army, and myself (Great friends) getting together with the great Tom Jones, and shooting a video on Shepherds Bush Green on a bleak winters morning, with mothers and grand mothers walking by in amazement, saying " hey, isnt that Tom jones... No it cant be". It was, and to add to the bizzareness of the occasion, Tom was all tanned up, having just got off the plane from LA, and New Model Army were all gothic and alternative. Great Fun.

My sessions with the great Mark Hollis and Talk Talk, were the most difficult of my life, being both emotionally, and phisically draining. I slept for an eternity after those sessions.

Putting the headphones on in the studio with Belfast band the Adventures, to rip them off again two mins later, after suffering a panic attack, after having suffered a nervous breakdown a year before.

That same illness, letting me down again, as i worked with George Michael on listen without predudice, and realising that my medication was making me someone i didnt recognise.

The wonderful Godley and Creme, Goodbye blue sky album, that we recorded in beautiful summers evenings in Sussex.

Sitting bedside with Rory Gallagher, as he slipped deeper and deeper into Coma.

The fantastic Roy harper sessions.(Roy was more intense than I) ???

There really have been so many good and not so good times in my life as a musician, I hope this has helped you pass away a couple of idle minutes of your time, i will of course keep you updated with our travels through the summer.

Regards, Mark.

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Two lips in Amsterdam - March 2006

I was humbled recently to be asked by Barry McCabe to travel over to Holland and contribute to what turned out to be a cracking record in the making.
Barry hails from Virginia Co Cavan in Ireland, and is a kind of Celtic blues guitarist and vocalist,and a long standing friend of our own Gerry McAvoy.
With this i set off on Sunday the 26th via BA to Amsterdam/Gatwick and was met by Barry and his charming friend Suzanne at Schripol airport in Amsterdam.
We headed out into open countryside and into Mid-Holland where after some 200 kms we arrived at a remote recording Studio in the middle of a forest???
My geography of Holland is pretty useless, suffice to say that all the vintage amps etc were all fired up and ready to go.
I need not had worried re-amps, as the three songs i was asked to play on were all played acoustically. One of the songs was a kind of Celtic boogie, the second a fabulous acoustic Irish self-penned instrumental, and the last a great Dylanesque type song.
I love the fact that i am lucky enough to get the opportunity to play on other peoples records, as i honestly enjoy the buzz, and this one was no exception.
We headed back to the lights of night-time Amsterdam and Bourbon Street blues club, and were entertained by a Terry Mann and his band from New York, and by strange coincedance Terry mentioned to me that he had been the Lighting rigger when Gerry, Brendan, and myself played on Rory Gallaghers last US tour.
I headed home on Sunday and back to the gloom of London.
My thanks go out to Gerry McAvoy and to Barry and Suzanne for the constant supply of Lemonade at the Bourbon Street club.
Barry can be found at www.barrymccabe.com.
Felts xx

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Rome, Moscow,and Athens - Feb-March 2006.

Sinistra, a Desta, Sinistra, A Desta, Sinistra, a Desta............(Left, Right, Left,Right, Left Right,) (In Italian)... We Had to endure five hours of an automated squeaky female voice on the Satellite GSM System in our Italian tour bus talking to us as we meandered our way down to Rome from our Show in Piste the night before.
'Shut that bloody thing up" or throw it out of the window Gerry pleaded, (not a man who suffers fools easy Gerry, must be the male menopause kicking in).
We arrived at our Rome concert with our ears ringing from our female robot companion.
The club was a very big club, and a kind of brewery all in one, and superb huge Steaks were served up for Dinner prior to our show which went down a storm with the Italians.

On the 7th, March i headed out to Moscow from Heathrow, to play four concerts as an invited musician with Clem Clempson (Humble pie, Coliseum), Ronnie Leahy (Nazareth) Joel Clempson, and Brian Bethell (Nine Below Zero and the Blow Monkeys.)

It was bloody freezing when i arrived with temps dipping down to minus 17 degrees some nights, it had been minus 35 a month before so it was warming up according to our Russian hosts??
We played two shows in a club in what can only be described as a small jazz club in the basement of a huge council housing estate, it was all very odd, the security is ever present and wherever you look there are big Russian guys in black suits, with miniature microphones attached to lapels.
The third night was at a small intimate club called the B B King club in the town centre, where i was greeted with Mr Greves face peering down at me from video screens in the club, and i remember thinking can i never get some privacy from Dennis,as he and the guys seem to be ever present in my life these days. I travel to remote Moscow and the guys are still checking me out.
The last night was a huge night club called the Apelsin and although under attended we all had a good time with possibly too much Russian Vodka down our throats.
We headed back to our hotel bar where Clem had his wallet removed from his pocket, 400 US Dollars removed,and the wallet coolly placed back into Clems pocket.

When i arrived back at Heathrow i had to jump a black Taxi as Victoria Station had closed due to engineering works on a Sunday.
We are getting familiar with this now and its a pain in the ass as we are often home on the Sunday.
The black London taxi dropped me off home no problem, or so i thought? for two days later when preparing for my journey out to Athens with the guys i could not find my passport.

I searched everywhere... Gone, disappeared... now as you remember from the previous blogs i had only just got a new fast track passport at £90 from the passport office over christmas, and now here i was with one day to spare with the prospect of getting a new passport but with having to pull out of the Athens shows.
I rang Heathrow lost property, Nothing, My Local Police, Nothing. I then rang black taxi lost property in Baker Street, Closed for the day.
The last day before my Athens show i rang back in the morning to Baker Street, and it was there,..A very decent black cab driver, and i must say a Bermondsey boy like myself ,had found it in the back of the cab.
I headed straight up to London to pick it up. I joined an orderly queue where i was greeted with the words," We have posted it on to you this morning Sir" No,no no, I need it to go away tonight, I couldn't believe this was happening, HELP!
My luck just happened to be changing for as i was about to leave and tell the guys with great embarrassment that i couldn't join them, a french lady had not actually posted it yet, and i was Saved.
I thank the black cabbie for saving my life.

We headed out this friday 17th to the "DUSTBOWL OF LIFE AND TWISTED ANKLES AND KNEES" that is the great Athens,.. the twisted ankles and knees refers to the sudden disappearance of the pavement with huge great holes appearing on the walkways.
We actually refer to my own dodgy left knee as "ATHENS KNEE" and my problem flares up whenever i return home from there.

We played two nights at the House of art, and it was about an hour into the first night, that a loud bang behind Dens amp signalled that his Marshall amplifier had crashed to the floor behind him from its position 1 metre above the ground.
Incredibly, Den mounted the Amplifier back up, plugged in and the amp worked. Full marks Jim Marsall for your Roadworthy products.

To be honest we played really well on the two nights, and although we were on very late and tired the first night, we gave our all and the crowd really seemed to be with us,..in fact some UK fans had made the trip out to see us, (thanks Guys).

We headed home to Gatwick yesterday, Sunday, to the inevitable engineering works, and in fact spent more time getting the 30 miles home than the 2000 miles in the air had taken us,....Now where is that bloody passport again.

See Ya, Felts. xx

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Greece and Slovenia - 3rd - 7th Feb 2006

Good Morning Folks,

It was an absolute pleasure, this trip, to be leaving from London Gatwick instead of the long and difficult Stansted Express, (Express???),

We took our great friend Peter Wingfield along with us on this trip to play some blues piano for us on our Thessalonica and Athens shows, and flew courtesy of my beloved British Airways... Brendan is very much an Irish Nationalist, and he and I often clash re: the pros and cons of Anything English and Anything Irish, in fact he came over here many years ago and stole one of our English Roses, later to become his wife, but even then the lovely Maggie had Irish blood in her.

We arrived in the wonderful Thessalonica, just in time to Soundcheck, and Sample some of the superb local pork dishes, in the Club Milos restaurant, Many local first and second, then third courses arrived, and it was all very nice cuisine.the problem is, is that it can be a nightmare for me to eat to close to showtime as i have to puff and blow for two hours afterwards, and on more than one occasion, i have almost re-gurgitated the contents of diner into the reeds of my harmonica.

The club Milos was packed to the rafters that night, and the Greeks gave us a fantastic reception as we took stage.

The only down side to a perfect evening was that we were one room short, and poor Gerry had to stay in a hotel 45 mins outside of town, but apart from that Thessalonica had been a complete success.

The next morning and we were boarding our Olympic Airways, Boeing 737 400 series aircraft for Athens, and as I climbed the passenger steps to board, I peeked into the cockpit to see the captain with his leg up on the instrument panel drawing hard and long on a tipped cigarette, "Here Dennis, look at this" I said, I couldn't believe what I was seeing??

We arrived 40 minutes later into the Dustbowl of life that is Athens. Any of you out there that have never been to this city, I would urge you to give it a long weekend and enjoy the buzz and atmosphere of the Plaka and surrounding central nightlife, it really is a 24 hour party city.

Pete Wingfield remarked to me that in all his years as a player, he had never played Greece, so it was a new experience for him too.

We played that night in the Ston Arena in the east of Athens, and it was again a new experience as we had only previously played only central Athens before.

The show went fantastic apart from a last minute scare when we literally had not a single piano stool at the correct height for Peter. However all was sorted when one arrived just prior to show time.

We headed home next lunchtime to Heathrow this time, and were greeted, with the London Tube network being closed for engineering works between Heathrow and Acton Town (NIGHTMARE) so we all took a provided bus service, Latinos, Americans, Africans etc to Acton town tube station where apparently there had been a 200 metre queue that morning from Americans arriving on the early morning flights from the US, How embarrassing for our transport employees to have to calm frayed tempers, but totally understandable also.

The journey home from Heathrow had taken almost as long as the flight from Athens.

On Tuesday we headed out to Nova Gorica in Slovenia via Ryanair at Stansted and Trieste airport in Italy, to be driven the short 30 minutes to the Captain Hooks Casino that seems to dominate the town there. Everything was in-house, and reminded me of my Zucchero tour when we played the house of blues in Las Vegas.

The rooms, the restaurant, the gig, the Bar, All were within 2 minutes of my room. Perfect.

The concert room itself was a kind of Half-Coliseum, that wrapped itself around the stage, and the PA system was a brand new JBL system.

We played two encores and had many compliments on the show from these nice Slovenians.

Gerry, Brendan and myself headed for a quick drink and off to the lift where I was stopped by a hooker, offering me her services upstairs, "how dare you I said" ...Or did I????

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A TALE OF TWO CITIES - 26th and 27th Jan 2006

Welcome folks, to the New Year, and I'd personally like to say thank you for the feedback to this BLOG section over the last year.

When our web design team suggested me having a blog on selected trips abroad, I thought a blog was some kind of mysterious illness or stomach bug that we caught while on the road.

I'm now a little more up with the times re computer issues, as I've moved on now from typing with one finger to........another one finger.

Gerry was already on business in Paris as Brendan, Dennis, and myself headed town to Luton Airport at around 1pm for our Easy Jet flight to Paris Charles de Gaulle airport.

Our hire car was duly waiting for us at terminal 2 for our 25 km drive to Massy on the Southern outskirts of Paris, ..Much like say, a Sevenoaks would be to London, geographically speaking.

The Peripherique in Paris for those of you out there that have never been to this wonderful romantic city, is similar to our M25 in London, and if you catch it at the wrong time (4-6pm) then you can be stuck on it for an eternity.

We just squeezed our way through the late afternoon traffic, and arrived at the Auditorium Longjimeau in Massy at around 5.30pm for soundcheck.

The concert hall was quite a plush affair itself, and come showtime we had sold out with 300 plus people in attendance.

After our 90-minute set we received a standing ovation from the fantastic crowd, and went on to play two encores. I love every minute of playing in Paris, and the audiences there never desert their artists.

Fri morning, freezing Friday morning, and we were back to the hire car company and the warmth of the airport terminal building at Paris CDG.

I was back home in Kent UK at around 2pm.....Just enough time to have a sleep and shower for our London show that night at the Factory, in Whitechapel road, and as I approached this rapidly changing multi cultural area of London, I was aware of Victorian London, Jack the Ripper and the many years my mother sat as a dressmaker, toiling long hours for old Jewish businessmen, in seedy dark rooms in the thriving 50s London off the Whitechapel road.   We are all true cockneys in our family, and I'm very proud of my roots.

Anyway, I digress, the concert and atmosphere of the gig that night was great as we shared the stage with some of the capitals newest and finest young bands on offer.

3am and I was home again ready for an all out assault on Greece and Slovenia next week.

Watch this space.

Felts xx

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