If it makes you happy, why the hell are you so sad?

It’s not only the fact that Creak have the casually virtuosic Vladi Shlesman on lead guitar that makes me envy them; It’s also the fun that they always seem to have whenever they are gathered together to perform - which they are with some frequency of late.

This fun has been maximised by a number of personnel changes in their early days, but has paid off big-time, because as we all know, the fun-factor is essential for the longevity of any band. (Start reading between the lines, if you wish)

Last night my band Pocket Rocket was the filling in a sandwich on Creak’s classic rock ‘n’ pop bread, on the menu at The Hart pub in Hammersmith, which un-metaphorically speaking means: we played a set between two Creak sets at the invitation of the band, who are currently playing a monthly residency there.

The Hart was Pocket Rocket’s fourth gig in six months, and despite a low turnout, I enjoyed it. I settled into performance mode quite quickly, helped by a good sound, my first pint in 4 days and by the right wardrobe decisions - I over-dressed because I’ve noticed that the hotter I get, the more relaxed I feel.

Creak are used to playing to a decent audience - usually a partying one - but, unfortunately, despite hoping to attract our friends ‘out west’, Pocket Rocket was unable to help provide one, which was disappointing and a little embarrassing, but what can you do.

Indeed. What can you do? I was left wondering just that on my long tube train ride back across town.

When all the ambition has all gone. When the expectation is lower than ever. When every time you play you can count your supporters on one hand. What is the point?

I’ve been looking at skateboards recently. I love window shopping for skateboards, almost as much as guitars. I can’t buy one because I know that the motivation to do so is all about the feeling that riding a skateboard used to give me. It won’t be the same at 44. My mates won’t be interested in coming out skateboarding with me. If I fall like I used to, I’m more likely to break bones. And what’s more, I’d feel too self-conscious riding it around. If I bought one I’d probably just hang it on my wall, get it down from time to time to hold it, and maybe I'd stand on it occasionally in the lounge.

Which is maybe what I should be doing with the guitar - not standing on it in the lounge - but hanging it on my wall and getting it down just to play it for my own pleasure.

As you can tell, not in a good place right now.

Creak & Pocket Rocket at The Hart, King St, Hammersmith

[A good night's] SLEEP [& a day's work] 'TIL HAMMERSMITH: Tomorrow night: Creak & Pocket Rocket at The Hart, King St: http://bit.ly/ej3GHM

Review: Pocket Rocket & Dipsticks at the Dublin Castle this week.

Always a pleasure to play with those erstwhile late-70s-Carol Street squatters, The Dipsticks. And nice to hear them through a full PA. We, Pocket Rocket, tonight appearing under the pseudonym Penile Rectum, also enjoyed the blue-mooner that is playing through a decent PA and staring into the pretty lights. I do like the colourful, semi-blinding, lights - they help me warm up and relax.

Attendance was helped by at least a dozen Dipsticks fans and half a dozen PocRoc ones - a handful of the former with their dancing shoes on, which is always nice to see. DJ Dog-Headed Men provided the between set soundtrack, which was, as always, an aural delight, and headline act The London Undaground, who sounded like a cross between Talking Heads, the Blockheads and Calvin Harris were thoroughly entertaining, too.

We soldier on around the toilet circuit averaging a fanbase of about seven people. Maybe it's time I  reconsidered my opposition to courting brands and corporate sponsorship.

Pocket Rocket on Soundcloud

Pocket Rocket's Banging Your Head: http://bit.ly/gJ5N0o RTYD

Video of Pocket Rocket live at The Comedy, London, by Gigvert.com

This great video comes courtesy of RTYD member Liam Barnes, whose gig video/webcasting enterprise is called Gigvert. Great stuff! We haven't had a decent video, live or otherwise, for ages, so this is extra special. Thanks, Liam! 

Pocket Rocket (Mark VI) at The Comedy Pub, Wednesday night, as experienced by Toby Burton

Not been drinking for six weeks, so went on stage without a drink, and was suitably nervous and a little shaky until halfway through song number three. Made a few small mistakes, nothing major, though. Stage sound was okay. Pulled off the solos that I was a little nervous about getting right, so I was pleased about that. Played first on the bill before three younger bands. Half our age probably. Eight people turned out to see us. Five of those were friends from the network, there were two Grapefruits (Tox & Otto) and two Kryptics, the latter, Liam & Ray, doubling up as a film crew. A big thanks to those guys for that! And RTYD member Pete McDonnell who runs the Lamb & Flag acoustic gigs and plays with the Acoustic Cavemen came out, too, which was kind of him. By song number four, I was getting into it, but it's never easy playing to an empty room, and it certainly does nothing to improve my lack of on-stage charisma, or relax me. Feedback was positive: I'm happy with Tox's Tom Verlaine comparisons, and that our heavier sound was well received. We were also fairly tight by all accounts, though there were some sloppy bits, and there is a break or two that needs some serious reworking. We soldier on. Had a drink after the show. Managed a bottle of Modelo, and started a bottle of Peroni, but couldn't drink two-thirds of it. Lightweight. Next stop Dublin Castle Weds 30th March. Dipsticks join us on a youngsters bill. Incidentally, after we played the room filled up with those out to support the other bands on the bill. Typical.

Co-pilot wanted for Pocket Rocket

So the 3-piece thing is now working for me. My confidence in this arrangement has come from getting my programmed guitar sounds, and their levels, right, and from playing our new set over and over at full-tilt. Only then could I get a handle on the dynamics, and what guitar levels and playing styles needed adjusting. Right now, it's the verses that need to close down in chugging brooding anticipation of ensuing bridges and choruses.

So, I'm over another musician member of the band (for the time being, anyway!), but now I want another singer. My bass player currently sings BVs, which helps lift the choruses, but with respect to him, he isn't a strong singer (he does come up with some rather good BVs though); I think we need another strong singer. But we don't one who stands there like a lemon until the choruses.

It would be great to have a second singer upfront, one who doubles up words and lines, and can also sing harmonies, throughout the songs. Not being the most charismatic front-man, I could also do with a co-pilot. They would have to respect the English accent I sing in, and/so we're not looking for a US-style rapper or anything. Two of my favourite bands have second vocalists who are active throughout their songs, Fugazi and Pavement. In some respect, (in a self-aggrandising respect) I'm looking for a Daltrey to my Pete Townshend, the difference being I want to continue to be the lead singer.

Here's a link to the ad on RTYD: http://bit.ly/dOde2w

Close, but no Grapefruit

Otto from 14 Carat Grapefruit wanted to organise a gig for his band at the Dublin Castle in early May, so he sends me an email to see if RTYD wants to sub-promote it. I say "yeah, but no, but..." 'cos I'm tempted, but then I remember that I'm supposed to be trying not to do more than one gig a month this year. It is hard, but I'll get over it. Anyway, in the end, I suggest he contacts Bugbear Promotions (the pub's promoters) directly. I ask him if he'll try and get Pocket Rocket on the bill, and this he kindly agrees to do.

He is successful, I think it's in the bag, I've checked with the band, and I'm ready to pen it onto the calendar, when I realise I can't do it. I'm gonna be coming back from the US a few days before it, I'll be jet-lagged out of my mind, and unrehearsed. There is a recipe for a gig disaster.

In a disappointed yet enthusiastic state, I have since contacted Bugbear, and have pencilled in a new date (30th March - unfortunately without the Grapefruits who will play The Dublin as planned on 4th May) and if it is cushty with the rest of my band, I will endeavour to find another RTYD-associated band to play on the bill.

'And it all breaks down at the first rehearsal' (Nancy Boy - Placebo)...hopefully not!

Looking forward to Pocket Rocket's 1st rehearsal of 2011 & our 1st gig, at The Comedy, nr Leicester Sq on Wed 16th Feb. http://bit.ly/fu7byT

The right notes in the wrong places

So, Pocket Rocket, once again reduced to three pieces (the last time it was thus was circa 2002), took to a West End stage on Saturday night, playing its first gig in nearly a year. In support of the wonderfully witty and harmonious Spirit of Play, we played the eight songs we have been rehearsing with our new drummer Nigel over the last 2-3 months.

In the last few months I have been trying to add a new lead guitarist to the line-up, but have not had any success in finding the right man for the job. In my heart of hearts I want my old guitarist back, but the time isn't right for him. So in his, and any other guitarists, absence, I have had to take over lead guitar duties.

I've had to learn some of my former lead guitarist's solos, which have been an education and a challenge. I didn't even know you could bend a G-string that far! So Saturday was going to give me a good idea about whether I could manage to add lead guitar to lead singing and rhythm guitar duties. One of the complications is pedal volume settings. But that's the subject of another blog all together

The response to the 3-piece sound we made was positive, however, this coming from two Grapefruits, and others in attendance. As a result I feel inclined to continue taking on the responsibility. I may even become a better, more confident guitar player, you never know.

I fluffed parts of the lead solos that I shouldn't have, but there were no howling bum-notes just the right notes in the wrong places. Like a good game of Mastermind, I'm sure in good time I will be get all the right ones in the right places.

And then there were three (but not for long): The re-launch of Pocket Rocket

 

My band Pocket Rocket is playing on Saturday night at 4, Denmark St, in the West End. Soon to be re-branded The Alley Cat, it is a basement venue that occupies the same space that many great rock bands and icons have recorded some very famous music: The Stones, the Beatles, the Sex Pistols and Black Sabbath, to name a few. Mark McKendrick of the Dipsticks and I think they should cash in on all that history, so that's my attempt, as a player-promoter, to do so.

Saturday night's a ROCK-TIL-YOU-DROP night and the headline band is Spirit of Play, who I have been a fan of since I first saw them, and whose singer Michael Caines has been an enthusiastic contributing member of the RTYD network since its early days. If you like Belle & Sebastian, you will like them.

Pocket Rocket, which is temporarily at least, a three piece, is just about match fit. In the absence of a lead guitarist, I have taken over lead guitar duties. I have risen to the task, but after over fifteen years of not having to add these duties to my lead-singing and rhythm playing, it has been challenging. I've enjoyed practicing my guitar at home. Re-familiarising myself with a few scales, and generally trying to get better at my instrument.

But last night at our final rehearsal before Saturday, for the first time I felt overwhelmed by all I had to think about. I was singing on auto-pilot, which I hate doing. Basically, because I was too busy worrying about my guitar tuning, my amp and pedal board settings.

Now that Nigel, our new drummer, has his parts down and is familiar with the songs, the next step is to tighten things up and perform the songs. But I couldn't last night, 'cos my attention was so divided. I have enjoyed turning up the distortion, but in doing so, some of the funkier guitar playing has been compromised. I miss the dynamics that two guitars can create, one cleaner than the other; one strumming, one picking; one funky, one playing power chords. I don't miss not hearing myself so well. And a lead guitarist who can't get his levels right. I do however miss the man and his playing, when it was great, which it could be.

We also need another backing singer. A couple of birds (or mums, even), would be nice. Mike, my lifelong friend and bass player, sings, but he's not a natural. He comes up with some good  BV ideas, but his tuning can be a bit suspect, so we need a third singer with a strong voice.

In 2011, I intend to spend more time focusing on Pocket Rocket, without deluding myself about what we can achieve. I'd like to record another EP, and add members to the band, while continuing to gig more regularly. I won't be putting on as many RTYD gigs in 2011, but I hope to be booking Pocket Rocket with other RTYD-associated bands at London venues.

Oh what a night! Late September back in twenty-ten.

I never got to see all my favourite punk bands. I've since seen some of them live, and although I'm sure they never sounded as good, or played quite so well, they obviously lacked the naivety, the energy, and the youthful spirit that drove them through their finest 3 minutes. They were also playing venues the size of the Forum in Kentish Town and the Astoria, once to be found on the Charing Cross Road. I can't imagine what it would have been like to see the likes of the Stranglers or the Damned at the Hope & Anchor, where last night we put on another PUNK-ROCK-TIL-YOU-DROP gig, featuring some of the oldest punks acts in town that you may not have heard of yet but you should have, namely Tres Retros,The Outbursts, Live Wires and The Lone Groover.  Back in '76 it would have sounded much the same as it did last night, their just would have been more sweat, more spittle, more pogoing. Stuff, at our age, we could probably do without anyway, eh?

I had a punk band at school but we never graduated to real instruments from our cardboard ones. Last night I played electric guitar in my first proper punk band. I have to confess I was just a little nervous, mostly because I didn't want to let the Outbursts down. And it was a somewhat tentative debut when compared to the confident playing of the two guitarists that followed me in covering for the missing Neale Muldowney, but it was a start. And it was really fun.

It's not that I haven't played hard and fast before. I did in the 90s. Here's the link to proof. But we weren't technically a punk band. We certainly didn't look like one. And my guitar playing these days with Pocket Rocket is fairly clean, so sticking on all that distortion was refreshing. It was funny too not having to sing. Well, maybe funny is not the word. Different, is. I could have done some BVs too, had I been a little less worried about my C-G-Bs. Or at least, which order they came in.

Anyway, first up was stalwart of the RTYD live scene on both sides of the stage, Brian Caulfield, tonight playing punk-folk songsmith The Lone Groover, and  later playing himself, punk fan and a supporter of live music locally.

As the Lone Groover, Brian got the ball rolling and the room warmed up, delivering a bespoke set of aptly chosen and dramatically executed cover songs of 7" inch punk classics, all of which he brought along on vinyl and displayed at his feet for all to reminisce over. He is the new star of the scene.

I wanted to make it up to the Live Wires after they took to the stage at the previous PUNK-RTYD gig closer to 11 o'clock than I like to go without a duvet over my head (FYI, I've always slept with the duvet over my head) (who cares? - Ed). Anyway, I love that they come to the scene with their black shirts, their jagged guitar riffs and one-word song titles; Like it's 1979; Like things are changing; Like the black before it's over-painted gold; Like the short hair before the flicks and the highlights.

Then it's my moment with The Outbursts, as described above. Two songs later, and it's all over. Just when I was relaxing into my new position, too. Following me, though, is deputy guitarist number two Paul Warwick of Trad Arr. He takes on some of the lead playing I couldn't possibly manage, with aplomb. And looks very 1978, to boot. Don't ever ask him to borrow his guitar strap, though (I should explain that, but get down to see him play with The Outbursts again, and all will be revealed).

Andy Golding, front man of Trad Arr, and guitarist with 80s band The Wolfhounds, is guitarist 3 and Thunderbird 1 to my Thunderbird 3. Or something. He starts by turning the amp up. Good idea. And proceeds to play the guitar with Hendrix-like extension-of-the-body proficiency, his tremolo arm rarely leaving his strumming hand. He is on fire, and adds a real vitality to the Outbursts sound. Go see them soon. And Trad Arr. And the Wolfhounds, when they play their reunion show at the Lexington, N1, in November.

I was introduced to Michael Fleck of Tres Retros by Otto from 14 Carat Grapefruit. Michael's musical career began in South Africa where he played with a punk band that enjoyed some success there. He came to England in the late 70s, and the early 80s for good. He saw the Clash and Sham and went to The Roxy, and did loads of other great things that I am totally envious of. Tonight his three piece turned all the knobs, pulled out all the stops and rocked like their lives depended on it. I wasn't sure what their punk 'schtick' was from their sound check, but their headling performance revealed that they clearly come from a pre-'76 US school of punk rock. This is confirmed by a cover of Search & Destroy and contradicted by a Lady Gaga one.

(Incidentally, as one has yet to surface, I'm offering a free RTYD T-shirt to the first person to send me a photo of me playing with the Outbursts)

Making plans for Nigel II

Finally!! Pocket Rocket has a new drummer, and, coincidentally, like his predecessor, he's called Nigel.

Nigel II lives in Islington, which is good geographically for rehearsal, and for getting together socially. He works for himself, which makes him flexible time-wise. He has his own kit, and transport (well, you'd bloody well hope so! - Ed). He has a transatlantic accent, which is the result of time spent in Canada and the US, but he assures me he is English. He uses the traditional grip to hold his drum sticks, like John Densmore, which I like, but not more than the fact that, as a teenager, he saw the Doors play their infamous Miami gig in 1969 where James Douglas Morrsion was arrested for lewd and lascivious behaviour, exposing himself, profanity and drunkenness. So he's no spring-chicken, but he is slim, and full of beans.

Next: a singing keyboard player who plays like Ray Manzarek, or even Dave Greenfield.

Not the whole of the Moon

Where was I? I know, Saturday 10th July. I'm sorry, I seem to be falling behind with my blog. To catch up, I'll have to stop digressing and rambling, and preaching.

Last Saturday came the day Pocket Rocket played the Somers Town Community Street Festival, which had been organised, in large part by RTYD member Stephen Denholm for ten years now. And it was he, who kindly offered PocRoc a place on the afternoon bill. Those who follow this blog may remember my desperate attempts to get a drummer for this gig. Those who don't, need only know that I failed in this mission.

So we played with our drum machine The Phantom Limb, with which we have been rehearsing in the last few months during our drummer search. As I've said, I like playing to drum machine to a point, it's good for working up songs, and it's so reliable and its timing is impeccable. However, live, it doesn't rise to the adrenaline rush of the occasion, and on Saturday it sounds slow, when in fact it is spot-on. It doesn't count you in either. Instead it requires starting, like Keith Moon might have done on an inebriated and self-medicated occasion or two. And then, it's not like Keith Moon at all. Which, however much I prefer Jon Bonham as a drummer, is disappointing.

The new songs went down well and were fun to sing and play, though. And it was nice to perform in the outdoors.

Question: What do you call a drummer that doesn't turn up and doesn't call or text to say why?

The motivation for starting RTYD in October 2008 came partly from the trouble I had rebuilding my band Pocket Rocket around the same time. For a few years leading up to this, my band's line-up had diminished in number to two. Myself, and my stalwart bass player and life-long friend, Michael Wilson. It had come to this more out of necessity than musical or personal differences. I had chosen to go back to 'school' part-time to get my Art degree, I was working part-time, and my daughter had just been born. Playing only occasionally suited me, and to facilitate this we needed the drum machine, alias The Phantom Limb. It didn't forget its parts, the tempo, or its place in the band. It didn't complain about the dearth of gigs, either.

Trawling Gumtree and other musicians ads sites inspired the idea of a mature musicians social network that carried musicians ads. Now, one and three quarter years down the line, I know loads of drummers. Hobbyist drummers, to boot. Trouble is, they're all in bands.

Anyway, for a good few months now Pocket Rocket has been drummerless. We have a booking at a Street Festival in King Cross on the afternoon of 10th July. I want to honour this booking. And I would prefer to play it with a drummer. But can I get one? Not so far. The last shot came last week when I threw down the gauntlet on a number of musicians ads sites, challenging any drummer to three rehearsals and a street festival gig with us. No money, just kicks. I got one reply on Gumtree. I sent the guy 4 MP3s, and he rang me an hour or so before rehearsal to make sure it was all still going ahead. He sounded like he was coming from Streatham. He talked about his route, and said 'see you later'.

Well, later came. And later went. No sign of the guy. I sent a text to the guy. No response. Nothing. I nearly left The Phantom Limb at home, too, but thankfully didn't. Because after waiting and hour or so for him, we came to the conclusion he wasn't going to arrive at all, and strapped on the old Phantom Limb.

Fuck it. I'm not in a rush to find a drummer. We want the right guy. The long-term guy. We want a North London drummer. Local, reliable and committed. Like the Phantom Limb.

You switch it on. It plays. You turn it off. It stops. You pack it away. And it comes back next week, at the right speed and bang on it, without fail. It just doesn't have much of a personality. It keeps itself to itself, and doesn't (really) socialise with the other members of the band. You can't have everything, I suppose.

(Polite) Answer:  Rude

Good and bad news

Good news: The PUNK ROCK-TIL-YOU-DROP gig this Wednesday at The Dublin Castle

Bad news: The Beast had to cancel their appearance on the bill at The Fiddlers gig in July

Good news: Foaming Beauties are considering standing in.

Bad news: One of my patients relapsed

Good news: Punks Not Dad remembered their password and are back on the RTYD network!

Bad news: The 25 year old drummer we auditioned last week, who was to coming to his second rehearsal tonight, sent me a text to say he couldn't make make it. What's more, he now can't play the gig on the 10th July, and doesn't feel he can commit to Pocket Rocket at this point, anyway. Shame 'cos I always wanted a drummer who played 'chopsticks' style like John Densmore.

Good news: Got a meeting with Peter Parker at his Rock 'n' Roll Club in Denmark Street on Thursday.

Bad news: One of my dinosaurs is missing

Pocket Rocket news

And finally... some Pocket Rocket news. On Monday night Pocket Rocket has both a guitarist and a drummer to audition. The drummer, who is 25, responded to the band's ad on Party Sounds. And the guitarist, who is a father of two and works in the City, was found on RTYD, which is cool.

Pocket Rocket has a place on the bill at a street festival (organised by Stephen Denholm of The Might Care Takers) in Somers Town in early July - about five weeks away.

It would be great to have a drummer for that. So let's see what happens.

The right gig at the right time

In September 2008 just before I started ROCK-TIL-YOU-DROP, I had just found a drummer on Gumtree. I ran an ad much like the one that is out there now. An honest one. It got one response. Thankfully, one was enough. I got lucky and met a new friend as well as drummer. Since then, because of hobbyist-differences, we had to part musical ways.

I'd already conceived of RTYD in September 2008, and wanted it to include a musicians ads site devoted to older musicians in order to cut out all that scrolling through teenage and 20-something drummers who aren't yet desperate enough to join a band comprising three grumpy old grey-hairs.

What I was yet to discover was that there was something else, other than age, that divided drummers, and mature drummers in particular. And that is the requirement of many that they join a semi-professional or professional band, i.e. one that plays regularly and gets paid to do so. They aren't interested in practicing. They don't care if it's originals or covers. They aren't interested in putting a new set together. In being in a 'gang'. They just want to get on with it. They want instant gratification. They are after all in high-demand, and can therefore afford to be choosy.

Mature hobbyist drummers are good honest people. However, as well as being few and far between, they are also virtually all already in bands. This, or their drum kits are in the loft gathering dust, or the garage gathering rust. Since October 2008, I have met loads of drummers, many of which I would happily play with. Unfortunately, they are all taken. This reminds me of school and when I fancied girls who were already spoken for. This happened a few times. Often, the most I could do then, was wait, and the best I could hope for was that before too long the boyfriend would find some other girl to finger at the Wilfred Noyce Disco and the girl of my obsession would chuck him. I had to be patient basically, and then in the right disco at the right time to get the girl, in the end.

So along with checking the usual musicians sites, I may well be found waiting in the wings at the end of your gig, hoping that your quietly frustrated drummer finally throws in his towel and storms off stage, knocking me over in the process. After the apology and hand up, and on receipt of the replacement pint, I am given the perfect opportunity to introduce my drummerless-self, if my drummerless-self is not already familiar to them.

Lock up your drummers.

Why does it always rain on me?

Why does it always rain when I'm cycling to rehearsal with my guitar on my back and my panniers full of expensive kit?!!!

Pocket Rocket is dead. Long live Pocket Rocket.

So my recent attempt to up the frequency of rehearsal and the level of commitment to Pocket Rocket resulted in our drummer leaving the band.

Last week, Nigel called me to confess, that after much thought, he didn't think he would be able to make the level of commitment that he knew I wanted from him. He is a creative director at an advertising agency and can't be sure he will always be able to finish work in time to make weekly weekday evening rehearsals.

He lives in Surrey; and we play in London. If he plays a gig on the weekend, it's seven (sober) hours out of his day spent driving in and out of London, loading and unloading his drum kit, for 30-40 minutes of performance. He is also currently going through a divorce, so he needs to be with his kids on the weekends, not with his band.

The knock-on effect of all this is that my life-long friend and stalwart bass-man, Michael Wilson and I are going to go back to the musical drawing board for a while. (So much for cracking on! - Ed).

We have already dusted down the Phantom Limb, our old faithful drum machine. We're going to get some new songs together. We do plan to build a new band. An electric band. But possibly a sedentary one - I don't know? I fancy sitting down for a while. Maybe it's 'cos I'm tired. Maybe it's 'cos I'm pissed off. Maybe it's 'cos I'm tired of rock-posturing. Maybe it's 'cos, temporarily at least, I want to get away from the four-piece, in-your-face, alt-rock thing, that leaves us feeling in no-bands-land between the blues men and the indie kids.

"I can't see myself missing Nigel any more than I might miss, uh, Ross MacLochness, Ronnie Pudding, or Denny Upham, or Danny Schindler, or any of those..."

I will of course miss him dearly.

But the band must go on.