This New Year’s Eve, for the first time in many years, I found myself with a gig to play. It was not with either of my usual units (Honeymoon on Mars for rock; the Stevie B3 for jazz) but I was depping for a Pretenders tribute band, the tongue-tangling Pretenderers, as their regular bassist was in Australia for the festive period. So, with one rehearsal and a set of chord charts, I played the trendy Tapestry club, just south of Camden Town.
And what a fine evening it was. Arrived at 6:30 for a lengthy soundcheck. Took a stroll up to Parkway just before 8:00 where we ate at a small Italian café on the corner of Arlington Road (excellent Banoffee pie). We then moved up to the Spreadeagle for a couple of drinks and were entertained by a transvestite cabaret act (Miss Ginny Tonic – d’ya see what s/he did there?). We then strolled back to the club which, in a modern, ironic way, is actually located in a church hall, where we were entertained by a first class DJ who played nothing but obscure seventies commercial rock. For ever song I recognised (Neil Young’s ‘Cinnamon Girl’, Bryan Ferry’s ‘Price of Love’, Cheap Trick’s ‘Surrender’) there were about five I didn’t. Most splendid. Come midnight we were on-stage while the club host did the traditional countdown and as soon as a quick verse of ‘Auld Lang Syne’ was completed, we kicked off with a rollicking version of ‘Precious’.
I’ve never really understood why people played in tribute bands before. I mean, what’s the point of playing somebody else’s basslines note-for-note, changing the tone of your instrument to reflect their and compromising your own style to imitate another’s? Where’s the artistic and personal satisfaction in that? However, as I looked out across a crowded dance floor of people wigging out and having a good time (including The Mighty Boosh’s Julian Barrett who was grooving like a lunatic in front of the stage when we did ‘Back on the Chain Gang’) I realised why: because it is great to see a bunch of people having a really good time to the music that you performing, irrespective of whether it is your own material or not. They are physically displaying their enjoyment of your musicianship, and that’s kind of nice.
We played a 45 minute set, ending with ‘Brass in Pocket’ before returning for an encore of ‘Stop your Sobbing’. We went down a storm. Jo, the band’s Chrissie Hynde, looks more like Carol Smiley than anyone else when in normal apparel but after spending thirty minutes adjusting her wig, applying her make-up, she looked as well as sounded the part (and, of course, fronting a tribute band is playing a part as much it is playing an instrument).
After the gig, as the DJ was once more pounding out (‘I can’t Explain’; ‘Tumbling Dice’) a very beautiful young twenty-something walked over to me, took my hand and asked me to dance with her (and yes, gentle reader, the fact that I am old enough to be her Father meant that dance was all we did). A little later, once Jo had reverted to her normal look, we were grooving around the floor when Mr Boosh swanned over, threw his arms around us and drunkenly articulated how much he’d enjoyed the set. I carried on dancing till 2:00, had a great time and – icing on the cake – I even got paid £125 for playing. Result!
The following morning, as I was driving to NW2 to pick-up YD, Kev from HOM texted me to say there was a possibility of some prestigious support gigs later this year with a cult American band who are looking to tour the UK. ‘Crikey’, I thought, ‘2008 isn’t even twelve hours old yet and already it’s a vast improvement on 2007’. Fingers crossed those words won’t be empty!
