It’s been a wild weekend of music.
On Saturday, the band I play in had an outing to Dorset. We didn’t go there to play; it was more of a busman’s holiday.
We stayed in the little village of Swyre with the family of our drummer, Catherine. It’s a beautiful place and we took the opportunity to go for a stroll down to the beach. The stroll turned into a mud-caked adventure after we got lost in the waterlogged fields on the way back from the beach but the home-cooked roast chicken that awaited us on our return more than made up for that.
That night, we went to see John Parish play the warm-up gig for the start of his tour. Catherine’s sister, Clare, was playing violin in the large (nine piece) band, fresh from her stint playing with Beth Gibbons. The John Parish band was ably supported by local heroes Pop Parker and Citrus Boy, both of home we had heard on our previous West Country outing. All in all, it was a great night out.
We didn’t have much time to linger the next day as we had to get back to Brighton to play a gig ourselves. We left in the morning, got back to Brighton and headed out the door to The Freebutt where we opened for Kentucky rockers, My Morning Jacket.
It wasn’t the most well-attended gig ever, but the people who were there enjoyed themselves and My Morning Jacket rocked.
Now the long weekend of loud guitars is well and truly over and it’s back to the grindstone for me.