Archive for December 7th, 2007

Rockin the suburbs

Now I don’t want to make my life out to sound more busy than it is. In the words of Goldilocks’s narrator, two and a half days a week is ‘just right‘.

This week has been somewhat of an exception. Such that Friday, 8am on the train out of Portadown is the only time I’ve had all week to put pen to paper. Or perhaps fingers to keyboard…

Part of the busyness was good old fashioned work, part was a joyous reunion with the Belfast Empire at a Josh Ritter gig. The other part was my farewell outing with the legendary stadium rockers Nice Guy Eddie.

It was my 6th wedding of the year. Not bad seeing as I missed the first 6 months of it.

It was a good one. A CE wedding, where there’s nothing but wonderful people I know and love on both sides of the family.

Add to this the fact both the wedding and reception were in Portadown so it avoided the long, dull and awkward, three hours between service and reception. Everyone went back to someone’s house to play cards and lie around comfortable seats and drink their own tea.

One of the joys of being in a wedding band is that people know they can get you to play on the cheap no matter how bad you are. Kidding… honestly.
So as long as you have a steady (though rapidly diminishing) group of friends marrying themselves off then you’re guaranteed steady work.

Maybe it’s a good thing but some people have been to all the same weddings that we play at and surely they’re getting fed up with us. Though maybe not. We have added red ties, waistcoats and many a contemporary pop tune along the way.

By my own (admittedly low) standards it was a good night. Though I still stand with Woodsy that Build me up Buttercup and Dancing Queen are what they’ll be playing in the elevator on your way to hell.
Right we’re at Lisburn, better hurry up.

People dance, even Christians, even sober people dance. I rejoice to see them all with a smile on their face, there’s something about Northern Irish Christians dancing that brings a smile to my face. And I don’t mean a Monty Python sketch type smile. More of a rejoicing over the fact that though we’ve filled ourselves (in fact substitute myself for the ourselves…) with reservations, inhibitions and legalism, that just occasionally we remember how to celebrate and rejoice and bust some moves on the dance floor.

Though it takes a while to get the reserved, inhibited prudes to the floor (we call them adults). Instead we play the first few songs to a packed floor of 4 toddlers, Peter Kay style knee sliding included.

It takes me a while to realise that some of the kids are those of couples whose weddings we first played at some 5 years ago. In fact we’ve played at the weddings of half the couples there (editors note – the last statement is a gross exaggeration under article 4 of the bloggers code pertaining to atistic license. Because 5 didn’t sound near as dramatic).

This does not make me feel old or lonely or scared or angry – which many weddings do make me feel.

As the train rumbles through past Adelaide (‘past old building full of slogans…‘) I see my work here is done. I don’t mean the babies, they had nothing to do with me (your honour…), but I mean it’s a good gig to end on.

It’s like bonehead, the really crap guitarist from Oasis (yes even worse than Noel) being politely asked to pick up his Epiphone casino and royalty cheque on his way out the door. Or maybe it’s more like Robbie leaving Take That.

Though I suspect in reality it’s more of a Pete Best thing. Leaving me old, bitter and peniless as the boys move on to bigger and better things.

It has indeed been a pleasure.

Ahh. Now how did I end up in Bangor…

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