5,7,5 – 365
6th November 2015 (3)
Some haiku and the odd diary entry or three, every day for a year.
Laila and I first heard the Young’uns play at The Cambridge Folk Festival back in 2014. They were a lovely surprise to us then and we were greatly impressed, not only with their music but also with David Eagle’s frequent and hilarious interruptions. Eagle, described as being a man capable of heckling himself, not only segways into his band mate’s introductions but frequently into the songs themselves, he always has the audience in stitches. Tonight was the third time we have seen them play, we also have tickets to see them again up in Barton upon Humber in December. Tonight’s gig is made even more special because all three of us Musical Musketeers are together again – Lynne and I meet up at my office and then we both go to find Laila at Kings Cross Station. Once we are all joined up, it’s off to Kerbisher’s for the requisite fish & chips. In a vain attempt to appear ladylike in front of Lynne, Laila says she isn’t sure she can eat all of hers. Ordinarily, she would have finished hers first before attacking mine but tonight she leaves a few on her plate. I’m impressed, this is a level of restraint, the like of which I have never witnessed in her before.
We leave Kerbisher’s, with Laila trying very hard not to look back at her plate, and walk up to The Slaughtered Lamb, where we descend into the basement, to get our hands stamped and take our seats. We have attended midweek and Saturday gigs here before but Friday night sees the place packed, with people crowding the pavements outside too. Getting drinks upstairs at the bar requires great patience and a lot of repeated shouting – although I’m not always patient, I can shout, though apparently not nearly loud enough. I arrive back in the basement with the wrong drinks to find the bar down there is now open and without a queue. I also have a text from Laila on my phone to that effect. Still, what does this matter? I’m out with my two favourite ladies, having a great time and the drinks are easily rectified. I like The Slaughtered Lamb and have enjoyed many a gig here. Artists by the likes of Futur Primitif (Dan Lefkowitz), Israel Nash and Amanda Shires & Jason Isbell. The venue also allows me to crack a favourite post modern gag, “I used to be a werewolf”, the line is left hanging there whilst Laila groans.
Support was provided by Maz O’Connor who played on through the repeated bleeping of a carbon dioxide alarm with a charming smile and confidence that was clearly borne out of her love of what she was doing. This was one of those wonderful introductions to an artist that we haven’t heard before that leaves us wanting to hear much more – check her out here.
And here is one of the beautiful songs she performed for us.
The Young’uns took to the stage, also having to play through the Jean-Michel Jarre style bleeping, this is all getting post, post modern. As expected David Eagle has everyone laughing and the band have us all singing along. Eagle tells us that if we all hold our breath, the alarm will stop. Laila is having a brilliant time, this is the loudest I’ve heard her sing outside of a Felice Brothers gig, where she can literally drown out the band. Lynne is clearly taken with the Young’uns too. It’s a smashing gig night.
Afterwards we walk down to Farringdon Station, Laila and I say goodnight to Lynne at Kings Cross and take the train back up to Lincolnshire. Later, at the car, the secret of Laila’s earlier self control is revealed, a third of a packet of wine gums. I’m just surprised she left that many!
Bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep
I used to be a werewolf
Hark, the slaughtered lamb
At The Slaughtered Lamb
The lycanthrope joke aside
We had a great night
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