Playing at the Silver Moon festival in Alston
High on a mountain top in the Pennines at full moon, out of my brain with Opium and such stuff. So cold I had to flap my whole hand at the bass cos my fingers had ceased to move pretty much. Staring down at tents full of out of their mind travellers from The Convoy and other such colourful folks.

Went pretty well I thought.

Opposite end of the scale, playing in a bar on Kings Rd, not a single person present. I noticed a glove sitting on a table and after the set, said to the singer, "Hear that? the sound of one glove clapping!"

Meh, coulda been worse
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