overlap

So the last part of my pre-xmas activities saw me enjoying the facilities of another Birmingham hotel, but as it was the first day the nation really got going on the snow-chaos nonsense, the streets were fairly treacherous. That and the lack of proper preparation which meant I had neither ticket to go anywhere interesting nor company. So while my catsuit made its first appearance in public, it was all a tiny bit disappointingly uneventful. The following day saw me heading north on the M1, taking four or five hours to cover the hour or so needed to reach Sheffield. Not because the snow was problematic, but simply because I had time to kill. Pulling into Sheffield was both reassuringly familiar and a little strange, because I hadn't been there for some time. The previous night's uneventfulness was more than made up for by having my exhaust drop off, with a recognisable clunk-clunk-clunk audible somewhere under a sound more like a jet engine as I limped the few hundred yards to a sensible parking place. I found my way to the venue in plenty of time, and headed off for a brief wander round the city centre before returning to find I hadn't made it onto the guest list as promised. Yeah, I know, shit happens, but another £17 to get in merely soaked up some of the savings made by my unextravagance the night before. Wolfsbane were on excellent form, we had The Troggs' Wild Thing added to the set and I had a quick chat with Blaze ('did you get in on the guest list ok..?'), Jase and Steve before the Quireboys started up again. The place was rammed, I stole a poster off the wall and after getting on for an hour decided it was time to be heading home again. One of the security staff, all of whom had been pleasant and as helpful as they could about the guest list snafu, asked if I was leaving already, and I couldn't face giving a full explanation of the journey that awaited me. In the bitter cold, and with the remains of the exhaust tethered out of the way with a cable tie, I pulled out of central Sheffield and headed for the motorway south, making only the one stop for petrol when I was about an hour from home. So despite the dire warnings of extreme weather, and with the sensible use of my earplugs almost all the way, I proved that even with the added noise I can still do a 200 mile drive home in one go, petrol stop excluded. Thought I'm glad I started it at 10.30 rather than 11.30pm There aren't many bands I'd contemplate that sort of thing for, and indeed I'd decided against doing the trip to London in the week before, but Wolfsbane will always remain my first love in british metal, and where better than Sheffield for the last show if it turns out there aren't any more. Though given how much fun they appeared to be having, I'm hopeful there will be.

Labels: gigs, Quireboys, Wolfsbane