Oops – I did it again!

Having spent the better part of last week recovering from both Friday night’s thinly-disguised birthday riot and Sunday’s follow-up to the Judas Conspiracy at the University of Westminster, I let my confidence get the better of me and got mashed at Floridita in Wardour Street on Saturday night, for mate Rob’s birthday. Ouch…

It was a crackin’ night, and I spent the early part of the evening chatting to a nice girl from Belfast – which all aided and abetted the process of alcoholic imbibement and missing the last train home. So I was there for the night, and afterwards Nacho & I went on a tear around the West End for more booze – but (thankfully!) we’d missed the boat everywhere we went. Chicken & chips and a nightbus – home at 5:30 AM – Sunday was lost to me!

Anyway, it’s going to be a quiet(er) December – at least pre-Christmas. Then there’s talk of hijacking a bar in Camden for Christmas Day and indulging in all the usual Bacchanalean pursuits and excesses – well, some of them at least. And on Boxing Day it’s off to the homeland for further alcoholic pursuits, punctuated by the occasional visit to a friend or relative – and of course there’s the full Conspiracy event; U of W was only a warm-up.

So what is this Conspiracy lark? I hear you cry. Well, I thought I heard a lone voice asking, but I could be hearing things (the old ears aren’t what they once were, ooh no when I were a lad and pints cost tuppence ha’penny and you youth of today you don’t know you’re born and I still have all me own teeth you know… <snip>) – anyway! It’s a musical experiment, orchestrated for the most part by producer Dew, where we all sit about in a club in Mullingar, get twatted and make suspiciously un-musical noises. For five hours. Terrific fun, and this time out we’ll be joined by my mate Ian (not the Mad Alfredo one – the other one), who’ll hopefully be flexing his Ibanez Universe to great effect.

And most of you will still have no idea what I’m talking about – to be honest, it’s a tricky one, and the best place to go for some kind of illumination is the Judas Conspiracy website – that explains it far better than I ever could. And that’s about as good as you’re going to get, I’m afraid!

And so I resign myself to a very very busy month before flying home – followed by a very very very busy time in Ireland – work has a habit of picking up just when you’re winding down for year’s end. Not that I’m complaining, mind you – the bike could use some TLC, and I have my Christmas to pay for….

But I won’t be drinking. Much. Not till Ireland, at least! 🙂

The Aftermath

It was a blast. Feeling somewhat delicate due to several hours of systematic alcohol abuse, but satisfied. After a shaky start (more of which later), the evening cranked up to a respectable level of rock’n’roll excess, and I ended the night with a smile on my face. What more can you ask???

The shaky start was down to the venue. The management of Parker Place decided they didn’t want the live music acts to start until 11PM! Oh – and they told me this at 9:30, when I was asking how we could turn off the house music to get the PA live. Much grumbling ensued, and we got a compromise – 10:45. Wow – thanks! But the venue cost me nothing, so there wasn’t much I could do about it…

Anyway, we decided to get Adam (half of Eight Foot Elvis) up to spin the decks for a while (this we were allowed to do), while waiting for the alloted hour to come. And come about 10:50, I was up there playing a tune for the faithful groupies who waited patiently for me to perform. I played two songs, then hopped off and handed the reins to Ian of Mad Alfredo – steadfastly ignoring the cries of “More!” (yes, there actually were some – poor misguided souls!).

And Ian got on down with his home-grown tunes and a sprinkling of covers – come the last song, Man of Constant Sorrow, I was moved to leap up onto the stage and belt out the backing vocals, much to Ian’s amusement. But hey – it was my party, and I was quite drunk. And I suspect my performances were somewhat below par as a result, but everybody else was trashed, so they seemed to enjoy it. My kinda crowd!

Ian had to tear off to catch the last tube, and it was Gin Panic’s turn to raise the temperature to a healthy level. And with Dew on the mixing desk, they had possibly the best sound I’ve ever heard them produce. Well, Dew’s been working with these guys for a while now, and he knows what they should sound like. And next week, they’re all jetting over to Ireland to record an album with him. All very professional! 🙂

They rocked. They rolled. They raised the roof. Dew later confided to me that he was asked four times to turn it down, he he. He needed no encouragement to disregard them, but I told him to blast it out – I had an axe to grind with the place, and the music was certainly LOUD. Dellamorte finished the night with his wicked breaks – ultimately playing in an impenetrable fog generated by the smoke machine (why? Who knows?!) to a rapidly-dwindling crowd. Nuff respect to the man – he played the night out. Cheers mate!

And of course big cheers to the posse who turned up – you made the night, people! I really felt the love in the room, y’know? 😉

Oh – and a big hi/bye to Kiz, who’s departing this sceptred isle next weekend to return Down Under – this time apparently for good. All the best Kiz – spare a thought for us when you’re sunning yourself in Byron Bay and we’re freezing our b****cks off! Somehow, though, I don’t think we’ve seen the last of her… 🙂

That’s it from me – I’m going to detox gently and wait for some semblance of humanity to return to me. Sometime around the middle of next week sounds feasible….

Party time!!!!!!

Had myself a fun night out on Saturday (my birthday proper – thanks to all who remembered!), traipsing around Covent Garden with mates John & Stu and getting ratted. Now that’s what birthdays are about, he he…

Of course, the main event is still to come – the party supreme at Parker Place in London WC2, just off Kingsway. The proceedings are set to kick off between 8 and 9, so there’s time for you to (a) go home and change, (b) chow down some soakage for the evening’s alcoholic excesses, (c) whatever. There’s a map below, which should help you find your way there – it’s just out of Holborn tube, cross Kingsway, turn left, first right, and Parker Place is there on your right. Easy peasy!

The line-up is a mighty one indeed – we have the superb Mad Alfredo on first, followed by the rawk-mungous Gin Panic supplying the live music end of things. And this night will be ***LIIIIIVE***. Once the bands are done, we’ll have Eight Foot Elvis spinning the decks with their usual excellent eclecticism, and finally breaks-meister Dellamorte (of Free Style Customs) will be wrapping up the proceedings before the venue closes at 3. Yes – 3!!! I’ve pre-booked my place at the drying-out clinic…

Where the party's at!

See you all there! It promises to be a bloody wicked night…

And the world caught its breath…

…as Prince Valiant was humiliatingly vanquished by the Goblin King, who then went on to retake his throne for another four miserable years. And the world shuddered as it contemplated a warmongering fundamentalist religious far-right regime in power in the largest nation in the “free” world – bent on spreading democracy around the globe, even though the regime apparently doesn’t know the meaning of the word. And Prince Valiant went off to lick his wounds and apologise to all who cared to listen, for not repelling the naysayers who besmirched his honour, or even being terribly interesting when it came to it. Meanwhile, Father Jack sat watching telly on Craggy Island, and barked to nobody in particular, “Who elected that gobshite again??!!!!”…..

[NOTE: To those who might be inclined to take the above literally, you need to get out more!]