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A SLICE OF NORTHERN SKY; THE POSSIBLE BLACK-EYED DOG; MAYBE BRYTER LATER AND PLANS FOR LILAC TIME...

Ein Ganzer Sommer

Wednesday, May 9, 2007

BIG PLANS!



Gosh... I am excited! I have BIG PLANS...

See, there is nothing like looking forward to and preparing for your first summer jazz gig in London!

So how did it all happen, you ask me? Well, actually, nothing has happened yet Reader! It's simply BIG PLANS... and like all BIG PLANS - a product of too much time , too much beer, too much food and too much bravado on a Bank Holiday weekend!


What is a Bank Holiday? Put simply, it is London's excuse for not celebrating every Catholic festival like the Italians, and refusing to give us more than one day off for Chinese New Year. The essential thing to celebrate about a Bank Holiday, is that we London-lackeys get a three day weekend with all the dancing-distraction and debauchery we can squeeze into it!


And that means quite a bit of debauchery!
Then again, why not engage in a little sin! Is it not "... May... May... The Lusty Month of May ... That darling month when everyone goes blissfully astray?- ing away from the topic, as I am now doing?! Let's get back to it!
Sheesh! See what happens when I get excited?!

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Like all good things... the BIG PLAN started with a good lo-o-o-ong marinade...

6 pm on Friday evening saw me frantically flinging e-mails out into the ether, desperate and determined to clear my in-tray. I have found that the prospect of my Friday pint promotes wonderful efficiency... and at 6.30 sharp, as anticipated, I had my hands wrapped around a tall "blonde" with a pretty head!

The next stop was Annex 3 or "Annex trois" - apparently owned by a ménage à trois of gay men with a penchant for chic-bohemia, strong cocktails and what can only be called a gypsy-motived-kasbah dressed in a motley mosaic of colours and textures.


So for the next four hours we sipped Japanese Scribbles and Mohitos, and held our glasses the oh-so-Chi-Chi-way (please see the adjacent picture for Ling's demonstration of this fine art), and polished off four courses of all manner of animal, vegetable and mineral.


In between mouthfuls, I discovered that I was in the company of a pop singer, a pianist, a violinist and a drummer. My friends merrily introduced me as the "Jazz singer", which naturally resulted in a barrage of "So where do you sing?" - "When will we hear you?" - "What is your style?" "Are you a soprano?" - "Wanna go Karaoke?" ...
...and it was finished off with a stern parting shot: "Go get a gig, gal!!!" And so the seeds of the soon to be BIG PLAN were carefully planted in the mushy depths of my well watered mind...


We ended off the night at Sketch Bar... which proved to be a predictable cesspool of chaos and carnage. After another Molotov cocktail of poison, I curled on one of those very comfortable armchairs and drifted off to dreamland while a hypnotic twist of arms, legs and faces whisked around the room.



At around 3 am I was safe at home and in bed - pulling both my duvet and oblivion over my head... and I didn't even wince when the rising sun pierced through my blinds in the morning.

I greeted Saturday with a groan and a mother of a hangover and the disappointing discovery that the weather man had revoked his promise of blue skies and songbirds in the trees over the weekend. All plans for cycling and outdoor activities had to be shelved, and so I made my way over to a friend's house to vegetate in front of the TV and medicate my tender head with (yes... you know me so well Reader!) MORE alcohol.

The sun decided to tentatively javelin a a few rays our way in the late afternoon, and that proved enough to transform us into park-bench yobs albeit with a Waitrose-edge. We came equipped with a bottle of Rose, assorted nuts and strawberries, and
plastic champagne glasses. Classy ey?!
Joggers and miscellaneous health freaks passing by stopped to stare at our little pavement picnic. So we dangled strawberries in front of their faces as they cycled / ran / jogged / walked past, and they rewarded us with a few queer looks... Spoil-sports!

We felt hungry after a while, (what with all that wine in our tummies threatening to turn into vinegar), and so we made our way to this newly opened Malaysian restaurant called Melaka in the Docklands for some chow and to meet another mate.

We took a look at the 30 items on offer on the menu and in around 15 minutes, half the list materialised on our table in all its savoury glory.
What could I say?! "Dismantle the diet... unbuckle the belt... bring on the chilli sambal!" It is after all not everyday that we get to eat an amount approximating the annual food consumption of a very small third world country.

An hour later, the five of us ambled down to this little Jazz club called Bootys. It was there that the real fun began...


So there was this pianist and singer belting out very soft jazz/pop. My mates being my mates, decided to hoist me up on stage, and they succeeded. It started with half a song, and then that half a song grew to a solo session, and they actually liked it! I was grinning when I got off the stage to be congratulated by a little crowd of happy people.

Then the BIG PLAN which had been quietly sprouting in the undergrowth... unnoticed... fairly shot up into the air and hit us in the face:
Why not put up our own gig??? Well really now... why not!?
On the way home and in the car, it was all jabber-jaw on ideas on who to ask, and what to play, and where and how and when... and why in the world didn't we think of that before!? Needless to say when I got home I was too excited to sleep and sat around playing my guitar till 5 am - which is what an hyper-tense riverman does...
On Sunday afternoon we trundled down to Melaka again, this time to do a little public relations with the proprietor over a bottle of beer and a smoky barbecue pit. We decided within the space of 1 hour of heated discussion in Lau's car that our summer jazz debut would take place in Melaka's beer garden to a capacity crowd of around 50-60 people... which in my opinion is large enough for me to feel a little Woodstock about it, and intimate enough for me to be myself...

Next thing I know I was tucking into a lamb burger and swigging a bottle of Tiger ... and that is when the "and thens" began... at a dizzying pace:


...and then I got the all-systems-go from Shah (the proprietor)... and then Alan (a baritone singer with a world of music contacts who happened to turn up on the day) promised to get me any musicians I wanted - pianist, percussionist, double bassist... and then Gary (that talented guitarist I met at my barbecue) told me he wanted to help out as well... and then Lau appointed himself my publicist ... and then we decided we would do it for the Orang Hutan sanctuary in Sandakan err... and I insisted...also for Ah Meng... and then 10th June from 2 till 6 pm was fixed upon... and then Ling said she would do an instrumental medley on the day... and then I was reminded that the first practice would be this coming Saturday ... and then I realised that lots of people were talking about it ... and then Shah said he would open up the beer garden to cope with the prospective crowd ...and then... and then... and then...
Wallah! There you have it!
BIG PLANS...
and hopefully the beginning of something truly fantastic!

So, watch this space Reader... it can only get more exciting...

... and keep your fingers crossed for the riverman~~~

Wahre Leibe

Mein Sein

Das Ganz Normale Leben

Dreifach Schön