Two of the finest DeClunk intrepid reporters set off on a three hour train journey to get to Birmingham to catch The Smile in action. The train is boarded, we had a nice table to pop our cans on, sandwiches were unwrapped as we settled in. Unfortunately any chat or profound discussion was constantly interrupted by the over efficiency of the automated voice telling us where we were and where we were heading, followed by the driver delivering the same message followed by the person in the shop on carriage C telling us the shop was open for tea, snacks and alcohol. This was every five minutes. So, please Avanti West Coast, shut the fuck up for fifteen minutes at least. We advise that any passenger should carry something to put over the speaker, I don’t know what, maybe 5 packs of masticated chewing gum might do the trick. Further advice is write the conversation down as it goes along, for if you’re of a certain age the memory of where you are in the conversation fades rapidly.
Anyway we get to the hotel, a little frazzled by the Avanti experience. The beer and wine is ticking over nicely as we stand at the window talking shite and waiting for something interesting to happen on the street. It didn’t so we just looked out the window like Rik and Ade in an episode of ‘Bottom‘. If only we had a frying pan with which to hit each other over the head.
What about the gig I hear you scream? It opened with ‘Wall Of Eyes’, went through songs from the two albums over ninety minutes. Mostly I was in a little dance bubble of my own. There was some chatting going on, as usual in gigs these days. Why pay fifty quid to stand and chat? Thom picked up on it half way through the gig and kindly told them to shut the fuck up and gave them the middle finger for good measure. He returned to the same theme as the gig was coming to it’s last number, I think it was something like ‘shut the fuck up for five minutes’. Great cheers all round! Obviously, the gig was awesome. Get yourself a ticket and go see for yourself.
Further beer and wine was consumed over the next 24 hours, nice people were met. We must thank, and maybe apologise, to the lady that had the misfortune to be sitting with us on the train back. The poor lady suffered us talking shite for three hours and, to be fair, she joined in with the nonsense. She wisely refused our offer of getting off the train in Penrith with us to glug a few more beers.We did manage to get hold of the sound system of the pub and gave them that classic album PF1 by Pill Fangs. Happy days.
DeClunk 