
About a month ago, I got a call from a great friend of mine, Sir Ghastly of Victor and the Bully. He asked if I'd like to play a beer festival they were playing at the Growler Stop Kent in Dartford - specifically requesting a band. Straight away I said yes. Upon hanging up the phone, I was wondering what I'd gotten myself into. I don't have a band ready for such occasion!
The weeks whizzed by and the show was creeping up - we all know what time is like. As plan A, I decided to get in touch with two people I shared chemistry and repertoire with, having been in a covers and originals band a few years back serving our sonic apprenticeship in local pubs and the odd grassroots music venue. Zac Vincent - guitarist and vocalist, and Dan Williams - Magician and drummer.
Zac instantly established himself as my musical soulmate the minute I met him six years ago, a serious force of nature - I've never been so musically in touch with someone my age. Dan is one of the loveliest and greatest drummers I know and deservedly in extreme demand, a true listener and a precise player with the stamina of a NASA computer.
Knowing their workload and commitments I picked up the phone anticipating having to come up with a plan B, but by pure miracle, they were both around and up for it.
With our combined diaries there was no time for a full rehearsal, so we picked some songs that we could wing, that satisfied our creative urges, some we wrote, and a couple of party pleasers we enjoyed playing back in the day. I met up with Zac the night before and noodled around with some ideas in a pub beer garden, and then Dan the following morning of the gig to dust off our cobwebs.
Even mere hours before the show there were some songs we were apprehensive about but successfully scraped from the back of our memories. We cobble together an hour's set by the skin of our teeth. We head to the venue. It was RAMMED. Our hearts dropped.
Victor and The Bully absolutely smashed it, with their whimsically infectious original songs and their twist on the Hokey Cokey as a finale - then they handed the stage to us. Joe "Crowboy" Marshall was shredding masterfully on an acoustic and Victor lit his ukulele on fire.
How the hell were we gonna follow them? They are an amazing and unique group, tightly knit, well rehearsed, and with a well-earned cult following - and then there's us with a list of songs we've not played for three years, if at all.
We set up in a nerve-induced sweat, but as soon as Dan hit the first hi-hat of Half Full Glass Of Wine, everything came flooding back. We were almost in a trance. It was 2018 again. Heads turn and everywhere on site becomes a dance floor. We had fun, everyone had fun, and as the finale approached we pulled out the party pieces.
Bob Marley and The Wailers' 'Is This Love' came up on the setlist. We umm'ed and aah'd, we'd never played it before, but impulsively voted on a majority behind the mic. It caused absolute HAVOC. We finished with ABBA's 'Does Your Mother Know' which did not calm down proceedings one bit. Our set was complete, our voices were blown, our fingers were hurting, and we had a blast.
"One more song!" We pull out the emergency backup, 'My Generation'. "One more song!" Sorry we don't know that one, take care, bye bye!
We exit the stage to unwind. Against all odds, it went better than any of us could have expected. Even half an hour later the hype was still in the air.
A member of staff comes up to us. "Can you do one more hour?"
Not one more song. One more HOUR!
In a panic, we trawl through ancient setlists in our old group chat, and all that was left and in bounds was our old cover repertoire. Anyone who knows me knows how tough it is to talk me into a set of covers, but for this particular occasion and with the rarity of playing with these two powerhouses, let alone to such a passionate audience, it just felt right.
We jotted down every universal sing-along and dance-along we could kinda sorta remember, hydrated ourselves, and re-entered the stage.
The atmosphere thereon was the absolute WILDEST of any gig I've ever done in my entire life.
Shirts flying amongst the audience, landing on stage and being used to whip the shirt owner's bottom to his delight. The toughest men you could imagine sobbing in vulnerable joy. Airbourne craft beer. A moshpit of love. People with the biggest differences dancing with one another. Victor himself joining us for a brief duet with his devil horns still on. Joe the Crowboy with his arms out singing every word. The infectious front-row joy of Mary & Mick Design. Every single person united in the power of music.
How perfectly it came together and the scenes that it caused was like something out of a film. It was every best case scenario and then some. None of us could have imagined it would have become even a fraction of how it did. And to think even two hours before we struggled to even remember the songs we planned.
Our band name of the day was 'Who ARE Those Guys?' I put it forward as a tongue-in-cheek placeholder, as a comment on how people may react seeing three random guys get on stage and indulge. Little did I know it was what they'd be saying afterwards in awe and affection. It was very hard telling people afterwards that this band doesn't actually exist! Although never say never.
In my time I've done a few soul destroying shows, as has every musician. Tiny or unappreciative crowds. Sonic shambles. Territorial drunkards treating me as a jukebox or vehicle for casual ageism. Rowdy places. Unrehearsed, undisciplined, or intoxicated bandmates. Sets cut short in a harsh and humiliating way without warning. But a single show like this - a brilliant place holding a well run event with an amazing crowd - makes ALL of those null and void. I had the absolute time of my life.
And being a musician since I was so young and for me it's just doing what I do - trying to play notes and sing words in the right order and having fun with it - it's incredibly easy to forget the profound effect it has on people; how it can unite those with the biggest differences, how it can bring back long lost memories. There's absolutely nothing like it. Except maybe Star Wars.
Musicians, if you find "the one(s)", even if circumstances only align on the rare occasion, stay in touch with them and play with them when the opportunity arises, even as a one off. The joy it will bring to you, each other, and others is immeasurable. You won't regret it.
And pessimist pseudo-aficionados, stop saying live music is dead when you're not looking beyond the top 40, the odd poorly organised mixed-lineup show in Central, or Mustang Sally cover bands going through the motions at the social club. Look deeper. Live music is thriving. Support your local venues. Support your local musicians. Magic truly unfolds x