Thursday 25th July

Straight after the show last night, I went to town on the tram to meet up with Gary for a birthday drink. His party were at The Pitcher and Piano, where Steve McGill was performing, and as soon as I turned up a few of the table left. I assume it wasn't something I'd said as I had only just arrived, although there was a surprising character in the building. Not wishing to stir things up, someone I have upset by writing about him unfavourably appeared in the pub, although he made no effort to approach either Gary or myself. As he never normally goes into town, we assumed he is looking at Twitter on a regular basis and decided to make his presence felt last night. Since I wrote what I wrote, I have been expecting some kind of confrontation from him, I imagined accompanied by some kind of muscle in tow. For him to say nothing and do nothing was strange, but ultimately amusing.

The Jam Cafe was our next port of call, and they were having the opposite of a talent contest by the sound of it. I briefly left the venue to walk a female friend to the bus stop, and while I was away I received a text message from Gary: "Run back. You have to hear this bloke. He is fucking awful!"

Sadly I missed the fucking awful singer, but got back just in time for the fucking fucking awful singer. He kept angrily calling for quiet while he was singing, which would normally be something I would be on his side about as I have been very vocal in the past about this antisocial behaviour. However, the sound of chattering punters ignoring the singer was a welcome noise. What struck me the most was how he was lacking any trace of self-doubt in himself or his 'talent'. He was able to get onto the stage at Jam Cafe, a rather high profile live music venue, and sing his dire monotone to an indifferent room. Who tells these people they can sing? If you can't sing but people tell you that you can, they are taking the piss.

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