Pedestrian Band, Scarsdale Fats, Cherry i and Chainman at the George Tavern

I was sort of drawn to this gig on false pretences. I bought a ticket on the basis that Sweet Unrest were headlining it, but on my last visit to see them at the Camden Eye, Tom told me they were no longer performing. But he said Pedestrian Band were good, so I thought I would give it a go anyway, not least as I like the George Tavern. It's in a horrible neighbourhood, the nearest station being Shadwell on the DLR and I always feel a sense of achievement if I get back unharmed. But the pub itself is a beautiful Victorian boozer inside, complete with amazing quality tilework behind the bar.

Being a pub gig the loss of the headliners did not give rise to an offer of a refund. It didn't even result in them finding a new headline act. The main support simply moved up the bill and a new main support was inserted. As I had heard of none of them it really didn't matter.

To give you a feel for the status of the opening act, on the website the evening was billed as "Pedestrian Band, Scarsdale Fats, Cherry i and more"

So Chainman were the "more". You have heard the expression "less is more"? Well this was a case of "more is less". They were a duo and not to mince one's words, a bit of a shambles. And at the beginning of their set the audience matched the band numbers one to one. In fact the other bloke was a friend of the lead guitarist, so arguably the audience was just me! (Although to be fair people soon appeared out of the beer garden to get to about a dozen.) 

A fair bit of the set was taken up by them tuning a guitar in the middle as the guitarist and drummer switched places midway for a couple of songs and then switched back. Given the bloke was a better guitarist and singer, and the girl a better drummer this didn't seem a worthwhile exercise.

 Main talent of the girl, on a roasting warm night, was to wear a furry hat throughout.

By the way, if you are wondering at the reddish hue of all these photos, its the crap lighting at the George. Its not quite as bad in real life as on the photos, but why they seem to think that bands look best bathed in the light of an Amsterdam brothel I am not sure!

Anyway, next on were a band called Cherry i. Needless to say after the first act my hopes were not high. Also, I have a gender split prejudice on indie acts, based on a lot of experience. My heart sinks when I see a young man come on solo with an acoustic guitar, or a young woman leading out vocals in an indie band. Young men on acoustics always bore me. If its a young woman then often I find there is a terrific voice which carries the act through (see Lucca Mae for example). Converse works with indie bands. The women vocalists tend to be horribly shouty to get heard over the guitar noise. 

And I say this all to lead into the opposite with this band! Which is why stereotypes are just that. They are not universally true. The young lady singing with Cherry i had a wonderful distinctive voice, and the band were not too loud. It all just worked. I spent a fair while trying to place where I had heard vocals similar, and eventually it clicked - Beth Orton of Portishead. Anyway, this was a joy, all the more so for being unexpected. And also nice to see a rarity - a band with even gender split rather than just a token female vocalist.

So the new act inserted to the bill was Scarsdale Fats. With a name like that I expected at least one obese band member. But no. They were very decent, listenable. You are waiting for a but. Well the only but would be, not extraordinary in any way. I mean you can't expect really extraordinary, but at least a little distinctive. I like indie guitar bands so this was fine. But not enough to make me want to go out of my way to see them again, as opposed to being perfectly happy if they popped up on another bill.

And finally to the headliners, Pedestrian Band. A trio. Tom wasn't wrong. They were definitely good. Just enough better than Scarsdale Fats to make me actually hunt them out. Although may not be that easy. I asked the lead singer after the gig if they are London based and playing again here. He said they had a date in Camden (while I will be away at the Fringe) but after that they are on Instagram. They might be, but I am not! The problem with this level is that there isn't just one website on which all the indie acts playing any of the smaller London venues can be found. I tend to need to check all the venues (not least, as here, the line ups can change only a few weeks from the event.) 

Anyway, this lot are definitely worth checking out. Very solid vocals (singer said he had been struggling with them tonight, but honestly I didn't notice), good musicians, the drummer was drenched in sweat - he really gave his all. Also they had the confidence to include one instrumental - confident enough that their guitar and drums could be interesting enough not to need a song over the top. And they were right. Just very likeable

 

Wedding in Calne, lunch in Avebury

My first of two weddings this year - I am now onto what I would describe as second generation weddings. I attended the wedding of his parents, and now was attending the wedding of the son, Kit. Here he is below looking smart and happy. I turned up early, so got my private photo of the groom.

I say I turned up early. At one point I was at risk of not turning up at all. I had it all worked out. The friends who had stayed with me on the Sunday night after the Catfish gig live in South Gloucestershire, and the wedding was in the neighbouring county of Wiltshire on the Tuesday. So I thought it would be nice to accompany them home on the Monday, stay at Eoin's house with his parents and then Eoin could drive me across county lines to the wedding venue (a barn converted for wedding receptions) near  Calne next morning, about half an hour away. Well that had been the stated plan for many months. 

But then Eoin got an invite to go to the last day of the cricket test at the Oval on the Monday with his mates (dressed as a crayon!). From that (and the fact that that the match was over before noon), one might deduce that really this was a drinking session. Which was fine. New plan was to catch the 7:30pm  train to Bath to be picked up by my friend Karen (Eoin's mum). Just as I reach Paddington station, ticket duly acquired, I got a message from his girlfriend that there had been a "mishap" . No information as to what the nature of the mishap might be. Which was a little short of helpful. But fortunately just before said train departed I got message from Eoin to catch the train, the mishap being that one of his mates was "paralytic." 

So I caught the train and enquired if he and Niamh would be on the next one. To which I got the reply "We are moving and grooving" which I pointed out lacked the lawyerly precision that I expected. Long story short they eventually caught the last train to Bath which was getting in at something like 2 am. Needless to say a slightly grumpy, Eoin got me to the church in time (and actually early) for the 12:30pm start of arrangements. This is a man who likes his sleep. At the  best of times.

As you can see the weather was very nice, plenty of sun, a decent breeze, but not too hot either. Before the start I met up with mutual friends the Naylors, occupying one of the outdoor sofas and looking rather smarter than I had ever seen them!

So below is a photo of what I can only describe as the barn complex. It is very much a barn that has been significantly extended to accommodate an area for the food, an area for the dancing, a bar (of course) and an outside space for milling in the clement weather.

The ceremony was outdoors - below all the groomsmen are gathering. No photos of actual wedding or the formal (biodegradable) confetti throwing thereafter as we were assured there was a wedding photographer who would be taking ample photos. (Kit later informed me that many thousand  professional shots  had indeed been taken, so I should be able to nick one or two in due course when they have been whittled down to a more manageable number!) 

It was a secular ceremony, and of course these things do follow a pretty standard pattern (I mean, its a legal requirement!) so no need for a running commentary of that part of the day. But the highlight for me was watching Kit just, and only just, holding it all together as he received the vows from Juliette. It sounds condescending to say it was sweet, but fuck it, it was really really sweet.😀I have known the young man since he was a baby, and it was just so lovely to see him so incredibly happy and in love. I know, if you aren't happy on your special day when will you be, but however much effort is put into making the ceremony look perfect, its the extra bit of genuine, unfakeable emotion that makes it actually perfect.

(Clearly outright blubbing would have been too much emotion. We are British after all. Being on the edge of tears though was just the thing! Just a note for future weddings....) 

Juliette surrounded by all the groom's family. (Yeah I hi-jacked the professional's photo with a long lens!)

So then onto the wedding meal. A late lunch followed by the speeches.

I was on a table with the Naylors, and sat next to young Peter below. If you are wondering about the chef's hat, there was an interesting and to me novel quirk for serving the beef. Rather than waiters bring us each a plate with slices of meet pre cut, each table was given a serving plate with a large hunk of beef and one person of  the table was kitted out to carve. This was an excellent idea as one could allocate amounts to each individual taste, and for each table it was truly freshly carved - we had seen it done before our eyes!

Yes, there were games....

The cake was of course, duly (and ceremonially) cut...

Followed by the opening dance.I don't know how long they had been rehearsing this, but I am guessing a long time. Kit is not a natural dancer, but it went very well. Which makes me think a lot of work went into making it look that good!😂

And then we went into the inevitable ceilidh, although when I say "we" I mean "they" as I opt out of organised fun. Fortunately I found a fellow traveller there in young Peter, so we propped up the bar behind the dancefloor and set the world to rights over a pint, as one does. Except with Peter, a fiercely intelligent engineer with a considerable understanding of science (well son of an astrophysicist, what do you expect?) and a great interest in, and knowledge of, international geopolitics and history, I  actually feel he could set the world to rights. Better certainly than the goons currently in charge of world affairs. Definitely a higher level of conversation than your average two men in a pub. By a factor of hundreds! 

It is possible with the alcohol imbibed by that stage, we may have missed just one or two of the world's problems, but I think we solved most. Just forgot to write them down...Sorry folks....

Meanwhile the somewhat overcrowded dancefloor resembled a terpsichorean dodgem car ride.

To complete the evening outside there were wood fired pizza ovens, braziers to keep warm by (and toast marshmallows) and a sunset to watch

I got a taxi back into Calne itself - Eoin had offered to come and collect me "in an emergency" but I was left with the impression that he wasn't overly keen at a late night rescue mission. I stayed at the Lansdown Strand Hotel, a surprisingly extensive establishment for a rather obscure little town (Calne has, for example, no railway station)

Its most attractive feature is the courtyard at the back, which I repaired to after breakfast 

Following which the Naylors picked me up and took me to where the groom's family had hired a cottage for a week - Avebury. Now I have to say the Fletchers did very well here. A lovely cottage with plenty of room to entertain (and royally entertain at that) guests at the back.

And only a few metres from the UNESCO world heritage site of Avebury. Obviously rather less famous than Stonehenge as a Neolithic site, but against that much bigger. Not as neat and tidy, but if anything more intriguing. Its a National Trust site while Stonehenge is English Heritage. One feels there is rivalry there.

The adjacent village of Avebury is chocolate box pretty.