The Damaging Pace of Doing Nothing

You may have read somewhere about the potential injuries that violent exercise may precipitate (muscle strain, joint inflammation, broken bones, death etc). As far as I'm concerned anyone stupid enough to put their bodies through the wrack and mill of strenuous calisthenics deserves all they get, but there are those amongst us (ie doctors) who would have the whole country sweating buckets on a treadmill if they had their vile ways. I am here to offer a plea on behalf of the majority who eschew the way of prescribed health.
We too suffer in the pursuit of our chosen regimen. I haven't had a gig for over a week (a gig is my equivalent of a 10 mile dash) and now I find myself seriously out of condition - partly because of the lack of exercise but mainly due to the compensatory consumption of Staropramens, Gin and Tonics and sundry accompaniments that a gigless weekend demands. A minor sprain or tear will be healed in a matter of days or weeks and the athlete will be able to resume their chosen mode of torture thereonwards. My return to form is nowhere as certain.

Onwards and Sideways

Hello Peeples, The old gigging itinerary is beginning to fill up at its usual lagubrious pace. A few promises of something of the more exotic calibre otherwise I'm afraid that some of you will be seeing me again at the same locations. I hope you don't mind that too much. Stackers played at Birkenhead Arts Centre recently where we had the privilege of sharing a dressing room with a tram and a double-decker bus, this was a first for all of us well-seasoned troupers. It just goes to show that a new experience is always potentially around the corner no matter how much of life you have seen. Some of my Facebook friends have popped along to one or two gigs but they haven't made themselves known. Don't hesitate to introduce yourselves should you want to, it's always nice to put a live face to the profile.
Mutter

Christmas - what's that all about?

Well, at the moment it's about the new Stackridge single 'North St Grande (Dancing Together By Christmas Time) and it's downloading thereof. It's available at Amazon, iTunes etc and if you're not careful you may even catch a video of us performing it. There is also a 4 track video that can be had from the same sort of places. Of course the problem with downloads is that they cannot be wrapped in seasonal paper and inserted in a sock that has been nailed to the mantlepiece, so such a purchase is a purely selfish affair. Go on spoil yourself and marvel at the unashamed audacity that comes with one's dotage. Come and see me when you can and say 'Hello', but in the meantime have a majestic Yule and a spiffing New Year. Mutter

Sun, Sea and Sangria

Hello there, Linda and I have recently returned from a blissful seven days and nights in Carralejo in Fuertaventura. The coolest of days was 28C! We had a large room ten paces from one of the hotel swimming pools and a choice of turquoise watered, white sanded beaches within 5 minutes walk. Now I've made you all sick I will digress.
Stackers did a couple of cracking gigs this last weekend: Friday night saw us in the well-seasoned, sleazy confines of The 100 Club in London. What a cracking venue, I love it. The sizeable crowd appeared to agree with me too. By way of a change Saturday was in the, now revamped, St David's Hall, South Petherton. This is an adapted church building which has been a live music venue for some years now. The flotilla of members who run and administrate this lovely gig should be commended for their dedication and attention to detail - the free beer for band members is a genius touch which should be deployed in all venues thoughout the planet.
I have a gig at No 10 in Bridport Tuesday night and MSB practice on Wednesday in anticipation of the two gigs next weekend. I've hit the ground running after the break in The Canaries. Pip! Pip! Mutter

Nothing of note, save some new notes

Yo! Very little going on above the water level, but the MSB beat combo continue to beaver away below decks honing what have now become standards in our oeuvre and topping up the repertoire with new songs. Songs about drug addiction, spendthriffery and a boring night in a bar, the usual guff.
A Stackridge rehearsal looms as does a gig in Southend -on- Sea with Curved Air. That will be a weird experience, reminiscent of the old days at The Lyceum or The Roundhouse, but with a load of saggy old duffers rather than the snake-hipped, pert bosomed gods and goddess of yore. What a way of NOT making a living!
See you around,
Mutter

Gigging In The Current Age

Hello. Warning: a bit of a gripe coming up.
I'm sure it's not only happening to me but I reckon getting a sufficient quorum of people to attend a gig is getting tougher by the day (I have been to see one or two others and there seems to be a similar pattern emerging). The first blow (or suck) came with the non-smoking rule being foisted upon every pub in the land, now at any juncture in the evening 30% of the audience is outside frantically striking a light. This means that the performer has to cope with a more or less passing trade throughout their set rather like a busker in a furnished subway. You get their attention, they go out for a quick puff, then you have to get them back again when they return to quaff and warm themselves before the nicotine nibbles at the vitals again.
Now, added to this, we have the prohibitive cost of going out in the first place - baby-sitters, taxis/fuel, bevvy, nosh etc.
I don't know about your locale but down here the pub gig is the first step into live performance for all would-be world beaters. If this carries on Britain will no longer punch above its weight on the global stage. We will be home in front of the telly sipping a cold tin of chemical wash watching someone else from somewhere else doing it. Gripe over, bon chance, Mutter.

Film Stars in the Faking

Hello, In some manic driven move Stackridge are going to be filmed performing 3 songs from AVFCS and 'Slow Train'. This will, they tell me, facilitate our relentless drive to world domination and may even give us a shoe in on one of next year's more esoteric festivals.
I personally feel that a troupe of clear eyed, lithe hipped, twenty nothings miming to would stand a much better chance, should such young'uns be hungry enough for stardom. I consider society to be calloused and weather-hardened enough to countenace a blonde curly haired, blue eyed 'Andy Davis' doing back flips over a pouting Adonis-like 'James Warren' ululating and going calf-eyed at the camera. Now, even I would pay to see that!