No key, no plan

Published on Fri 2 Dec 2011

Okkervil River were back in London last week and once again, most of Cambridge went. I don't know why they don't just play here - maybe because it'd have an adverse affect the attendances at the London shows. I'd been to Koko 3 times before and the sound had been rubbish at the two that had been full bands, so I wasn't sure how they'd fare, especially compared to the amazing gig at Heaven earlier in the year. I needn't have worried though. There was some confusion about the support act. Twitter suggested it was some girl from Bedford, but it turned out to be a band called A Classic Education that the internet said were from Bologna but confused us at the time by having a Canadian singer. They were alright, but couldn't really take my mind off how smelly the venue was. We could smell the vomit halfway there from Kings Cross. And the sweatiness was quite something too. It was a blessed relief when someone farted.

The Okkervil River set was similar to other recent ones, though we got "Ends With A Fall" which I'd never seen and a jaw dropping slow quiet version of "No Key, No Plan". I've gone on about them enough before. They must be in the top few bands in the world at the moment.

I played keys for Annie at The Cornerhouse in Cambridge on Sunday and the Norwich Arts Centre on Tuesday, and both were good fun. The journey to Norwich was one of the more annoying journeys I've ever been involved in though. I called a cab with plenty of time, only for it to take 25 minutes to turn up, leaving just enough time to get to the station for our train, only for the driver to refuse to take my keyboard, meaning that we had to get a second taxi and a non-direct train, leading to a lot of time sitting in the cold on Ely station waiting for the second half of it to not turn up before being given about 30 seconds warning by the announcer that the direct train an hour after the one we'd been aiming for in the first place was about to show up on the other side of the station. The annoyance didn't end there. I'd carefully chosen a hotel about 5 minutes walk from the venue, and planned the green route on the map below in my head. We were about to go down the correct left turn when we asked a local just to make sure. Who said "hmm... the arts centre eh? Let me see...* you've got a ways to go yet... easiest to follow this road here round, then turn left at Tesco and then maybe ask someone else..."

*every single person we asked said "the arts centre eh? let me see...". Not very comforting.

I've marked the route we ended up taking in red. I've marked in blue places where we asked people for directions. I've marked in orange the spot where we were when it started raining moderately heavily. I've marked in pink the shop that used to be a Tesco but isn't any more. I've marked in brown the place where the rain reached monsoon proportions. I've marked in yellow the one person who told us the right way. It's nice that people try and help, but it'd be much better if they'd not if they aren't sure. Or at least give you some kind of estimate accuracy rating. My keyboard is really heavy. I'm going to be ripped if this sort of thing keeps happening.

Anyway, having spent 15 minutes of so rubbing myself up against the hand drier all was good. I've played in the bar there but never been in the big room - it's a lovely old converted church with a great sound, and really friendly staff. We were supporting Juan Zelada who I'd not heard of before. The recorded stuff isn't really my cup of tea, but live it was a lot of fun. The tightest band I've seen in ages (the guitar player did almost the whole gig with 5 strings) and he's quite the showman.

I did my first solo gig in London for what I reckon must be the best part of 2 years on Wednesday night, at the Servant Jazz Quarters in Dalston (which is only distinguishable from the outside as not being someone's house from a tiny SJQ above the door). Incredibly, of the 4 acts that were confirmed as playing at 4 that afternoon, I was the only one who ended up doing so. 2 dropped out with a couple of hours to go, and one walked out after a long soundcheck, having realised that there weren't going to be (m)any people watching. I've never seen that before. No way to behave really. It's good to know my knack for being the act that turns a hitherto successful club into a bit of a disaster just by being on the bill is still working well. Places should offer me protection money to not come and play. Or just not book me. Oh... Roll on tonight's gig at The Living Room in Cambridge! Anyway, it was a lovely room, the sound was brilliant, I felt like I played really well and the handful of people that did come were very nice. Setlist: The Ghost of Paddy's Night Past, Watertight, Magnetic or Rhetorical, Muscle Memory, A Happy Ending, Soaked to the Skin, Phosphorus Burn (awkward encore). Steve (AKA Blabbermouth) who was the host of the night did a few songs and, unusually in my experience, was brilliant. Really good stuff. I was a bit taken aback.

I'm not sure the sign they had outside was the best choice of words though - to me it implies the presence of flutes.