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.