two fine gigs and a stolen phone

So Sunday, the small person and I headed off to the west country and wales. Firstly to call in and see my sister and niece for a day out in Cheddar Gorge (very nice it was too), and then off to Cardiff Coal Exchange to a WarChild benefit gig. On the bill were Stuart Henderson, Ben Okafor, Martyn Joseph and Bruce Cockburn. How good is that lineup???? unbelieveable. believe me.

First up was Stewart, an incredibly gifted performance poet, whose work I’ve been reading for years, and who has written a lot of songs with Martyn Joseph through the years, including one of Martyn’s ‘hits’ from the early 90s, ‘Working Mother’.

He was followed by Ben, who I’ve played with in the past, and whose albums I’ve had since the late 80s. A fantastic performer, he was also a boy soldier in the Biafran war in Nigeria, so his connection to tonight’s cause added gravity to the evening.

Martyn’s a favourite of mine and the small person’s, both having been fans for many many years. He’s a hugely compelling performer, fantastic guitarist, great songwriter and very engaging between songs. Highly highly recommended on CD and live. Truly a ‘hidden gem’ of the UK music scene.

And Bruce – it’s the fourth time I’ve seen bruce in the last few months, and the second time in a week, and he was as magic as ever. A genius in the truest sense, one of the finest guitar playing singer/songwriters to ever grace the planet.

A remarkable evening.

So back home monday for more recording, more recording all day today (see next blog entry for studio tales…), and then this evening off to the Borderline to see Amy Wadge (pronounced Woj), with the added bonus of catching the majestic Brian Houston on the same bill.

However, my evening’s enjoyment was spoilt by the bastard on the train who stole my phone. His behaviour was a little shifty – changing seats, apparently to read the tube map. I’d covered my pockets to make sure I wasn’t being pickpocketed, but the phone had already fallen from my jacket, I found out afterwards, which he must’ve picked up and run off with, the shitbag.

So once I realised (after we were in the venue) I rang Orange and got the phone and the number blocked and ordered a new phone. Given that the phone is now basically useless to the piece of crap that stole it, it’s a pain in the arse that it’s cost me

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