I'm full of cold at the moment, and survived last night's show but felt grotty all day today. There was a gig that I really wanted to go to tonight, and even if it meant infecting everyone in the building and having a plague named after me, there was no way that I was going to miss it. To try and steam myself better, I decided to have a hot bubble bath and at the same time try and stop my body from aching. I made two cups of tea to drink while I was in there, and decided that I'd take the opportunity to listen to a CD all the way through. This also counts towards listening to an album while doing nothing else, something we as humans have forgotten to do. Being in the bath doesn't technically count as doing something else. As I went into my office to use my desk as the pocket emptying station, (keys, wallet, phone, etc), I saw on a pile of discs Stoosh by Skunk Anansie. I haven't listened to it for ages, and as I was about to get into the bath and couldn't be bothered having to make a choice from my music collection as the water would have gone cold by the time I'd dithered about.

I really don't remember the last time I listened to this album, which makes it a bit of an oddity that it would on top of a pile in my office. There's a chance that I had to find something and disturbed everything. It hasn't lost anything with age, and it gave me a possible starting point for the next series of Steve's LP Box, (always thinking ahead, even if I have loads to do in the meantime before making plans for next year.

By the time I got out of the bath I was already pushing my luck time wise, especially when I heard myself on the phone to my friend Gary saying I'd be at the venue for about quarter past eight, when we were having the conversation at around seven and I still wanted to have something to eat and quickly check my messages before finally getting round to putting some clothes on and actually leaving the house. Mandi was making a slow cooked traditional stew, so to put me on I made a toasted muffin with a poached egg and took some headache tablets, another dissolving vitamin C thingy, (it says one a day on the tube, and I have had four today - I'm like Zammo but with vitamins), and finished the bottle of cough medicine that I was slugging from yesterday. When I tweeted that I was on my way to the gig despite feeling like shit, I received a tweet back from the manager (and dad of one of the members) of The CTRL, Darren, saying that if I still felt iffy by Saturday's gig he would bring me either Beechams or Lemsip. When I first started out in the music business I imagined being offered cocaine and strippers! That's progress for you.

I've decided to have a go at writing a song called 'Shut The Fuck Up You Ignorant Shithouses', (working title), which I will perform at every live music event in town as the first on the bill act. As part of the musical accompaniment, I will punctuate the song with blasts from a horn or a shot from a starter pistol to shock everyone into silence. When I arrived at Bodega, I had just missed Chloe McShane's set which was a shame as she is incredible live. Gary told me that the loud drone of chatter was all that could be heard during the first acts. My gig would be to go on first, and sing the most obscene song about how rude it is to talk while there is a singer doing his or her job. At the end of the first verse, I'd sound a fog horn or fire the starting pistol to, then simply say "second verse":

"You're talking to your friend, you ignorant cunt,
Can't you see the singer out front..."

What would really set the irony factor going, is encouraging a singalong and getting the people in the bar (who can't really be described as an audience at this stage) to join in - "There's a pub over the road, why don't we fuck off there?".

If I ever get round to writing it, that song will become an anthem for the live music scene. I'll record it as a single and give it away for free so that everyone gets to learn the words. As soon as I hit the stage with my guitar to perform the song, that is your signal to either leave and go to a pub that hasn't got live music on, or give it some hush. Either that or I'll be threatened everywhere I go for calling everyone cunts. One more flaw, I can't play guitar.

Luckily, the next few acts had sufficient volume to blanket the talkers, and the night could really begin. The Most Ugly Child did the first of two gigs of the night, with an eleven o'clock show round the corner at Jam Cafe to get to afterwards. Daniel, the lead singer, told me that their bookings had risen from two upcoming gigs to five since appearing on NottinghamLIVE last week. Of course this is all coincidence, but it's nice to think that it is all down to our influence. They certainly got the crowd on side with their set, and changed the mood of the place for the better. Next up was Gang Of Angels, or GOA Choir, who I hadn't seen before so it was nice to see how they came across live, (very well) and The After Dark Movement. I've seen The After Dark Movement before but tonight they were doing an acoustic set. I wasn't sure how that would work, but it worked enough for me to ask them to do it on radio!

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