'Do you think it was something that you ate?'

Do you like profiteroles? Yes, I do too, maybe not quite as much as some people but they're really nice sometimes aren't they? I always find one or two of them is enough although I've seen some people eat a lot more than that. I expect that you have too.

The impressively-filled bowl pictured above appeared on the 'band table' (that's what it said on the piece of card) around 9.30 on Saturday evening; by 9.45 we were on stage. I wouldn't normally take a photo of such a thing, but it for whatever reason it made me laugh. I had one, thought about two, decided it wouldn't be a good idea before two 45 minute bursts of prancing around posing with a plank of wood around my neck; other band members had similar thoughts but had some more profiteroles anyway. Halfway through our show looks of horror crossed their faces as a waitress removed the remaining ones from our table - they'd said that we should take them to our dressing room and they'd been proved right.

I rather suspect that I had a look of horror on my face too, but for a different reason. More about that in a minute.

It's been a while since I've been able to write the words 'three gigs in three days' but I'm pleased to say that I can write it about the weekend just gone. The first show was the first show (if you see what I mean) for Ska Madness - the brainchild of CBB-er Matt and featuring himself, myself and his mate Jamie on saxophone (and a bunch of backing tracks) and making it's debut at no lesser venue that Cippenham British Legion Club near Slough. As we were setting up a cheery chap came in, looked around and asked where we wanted him to set up; when we said we didn't know he introduced himself as 'Steve Curtis - Bon Jovi and Freddie Mercury tribute'. He then nervously ran off to find out if he was in the right building, returning a few minutes later to triumphantly announce that 'we're both on'. Leaving aside the fact that for a minute there I wasn't sure if he meant both of his acts or us and him this was good news.

After setting up is was time to get a drink and check stage times. Barry the boss hummed and harred for a minute before deciding that we were to go on at 9.45pm, with Bon Jovi on before us and Freddie Mercury after. (Now that's a sentence that I never thought that I'd write!) He then advised us not to leave anything in our cars ('sat. navs, coats, they'll have anything away') and went back behind the bar, leaving us to debate whether or not we fancied cheesy chips (we did!) and to catch a bit of Steve's first set - I'm not exactly an expert on Bon Jovi's career but I do know that he's a very good singer (next time you see a band playing 'Livin' On A Prayer' see if the singer gets the audience to do the 'whoa-ho' bits in the choruses - they're really high, especially in the last part of the song which is in a higher key; one could somewhat cynically point out that it exposes the limitations of the singer if he has to get the audience doing that bit for him, but cynicism the last thing you'd ever get from me...) and as such Steve made a good job of the songs and worked hard to get the audience involved, particularly when he got them singing 'Livin' On A Prayer' (I'm not being cynical, honest... no really I'm not, I certainly can't sing it!)

Playback gigs are always a bit odd from my point of view, and not always particularly enjoyable; however this one was really good fun - a bit loose here and there (it was our first go at it after all) but we certainly went down well with Matt as energetic as ever and Jamie blowing up a storm. A good start for Ska Madness - let's see what happens next.

After the show we took our gear down as quickly as we could to make way for Steve's second set. (We also realised that we could go home early if we got our stuff off the stage! Oh yes!) As we were loading our gear out through the pool room I heard a voice shout 'Heggarty!' - I turned round to see a smiling gentleman walking towards me with the words 'I heard your singer introduce you as Heggarty, that's my name too'. It turned out that my new friend Chris Hegarty spells his name with only one 'G' - I told him my lot were greedy...

After a busy Saturday in the shop it was off to the somewhat unlikely surroundings of Papplewick School in Ascot for a show with The Repertoire Dogs. This is only my second time depping with the band (their 'usual' guitarist is Mick Ralphs from Mott The Hoople and Bad Company - how mad is that?) and it was every bit as enjoyable as my last show with them, for most of the time anyway...

Nick's on vocals (ably assisted by Elkie and Freya) with Simon on guitar, Nigel on bass and Bob on drums, and we're playing at what Nick cheerily described as 'a big piss-up for staff and parents'. From what I saw this certainly seemed to be an apt description, with many people in fancy dress and an atmosphere of genial jollity all round. We had a small room (complete with pool table) to change in before have a meal prior to our first set starting at half past nine. I had Quorn Chilli (as did Bob, a fellow vegetarian) and heroically resisted having too many profiteroles as mentioned above. I had a couple of bottles of lager but that was all, honest.

We begin with 'Jumpin' Jack Flash' followed by 'I Saw Her Standing There' - we're playing well, people are up dancing already and it's going to be a great night.

In the interval I go outside in search of the gents toilet - they're refurbishing the ones in the building and I'd previously walked what felt like about half a mile to find some, but had been assured that there were some much nearer just outside the back door. I eventually found it just around the corner, as I was walking back I felt tired suddenly, weary even. Come on Leigh, two gigs in a row and you're already knackered? Dreadful!

As our second set progressed I felt more and more tired, and was developing a particularly nasty stomach ache. I tried to ignore it but it wouldn't go away, in fact it got worse. I burped suddenly - ooh, that didn't feel too good. This is getting bad. Very bad. Meanwhile the gig is going well, very well, and I'm concentrating on playing but it feel as though my stomach is swelling up and I'm getting very worried. As Bob and Simon start our last number 'All Right Now' I have to sit down, much to the consternation of Nigel who wonders what's wrong, I tell him I'm ok even though I'm not and I'm hoping that there won't be an encore even though I know that there will...

After 'Born To Be Wild' I put my guitar down and stood for a few seconds. No, it's no good, I'm going to be sick. Bugger. I try to walk calmly out towards the back door but know that I'm walking quicker and quicker until in the end I'm trying not to run, as I get outside I'm definitely running and I make it to the toilet praying that there's no one in there... there isn't. There is a God.

After what feels like an eternity in hell with Satan and all his little wizards I step back outside. I was sick. Very sick. Very very sick. I feel terrible. As I walk back towards the venue, there are three loud well-to-do sounding men outside having a smoke. As I get nearer I hear one of them recounting with much hilarity how he'd kicked a horse in it's ribs 'hundreds of times, you should have seen the bruises'. His friends threw their ugly heads back in distorted laughter. I wish I'd been sick on them.

When I woke up the next morning I felt as though I'd done 10 rounds with Mike Tyson in his prime. My head hurt, my throat was raw and my stomach and sides ached. I've got a gig in a few hours, an afternoon show with The Rikardo Brothers at The Unicorn in Abbots Langley. How am I going to do that?

I stumbled downstairs - Shirley asks me how I feel. Well not too good but I'm on my feet. I ask her what she thinks I can eat, she suggests toast and I manage a few mouthfuls but don't feel like much more so just stick with water. Maybe I'll feel better after a shower?

I wake up to Shirley knocking on the bedroom door - it's half past twelve, I've got to get going. I'd sat on the bed and fell asleep. Oh well, I must have needed it.

The Unicorn is a nice little pub - I'd been past it many times as CBB saxman Richard used to live near there, but had never been in it before. We're playing in the corner by the fireplace (there's an impressive fire burning as we arrive, which Scott the guv'nor puts out with remarkable efficiency) and we set up quickly and easily. I feel better than I thought I would but still don't feel like doing much other than sipping lemonade and waiting for showtime. We began playing just as The Carling Cup Final started and finished our third set a few minutes after the penalty shootout. It was a good gig - Liverpool won and so did we. The way I was feeling I wouldn't have predicted either.

By the time I got home I could bearly remember the show. I said hello to Shirley, put my guitar away, and went straight to bed.

Radio friendly unit shifter

I have just - just! - returned from Hayes FM where Huggy and myself appeared on the Hughie Dixon show to talk about this week's upcoming Price gig. In an hour that went by all too quickly (we both agreed that we'd love to have been on for the whole two hours!) we chose tracks by The Lurkers, The Surfin' Lungs (good choice Hug - although one listener complained by e-mail that 'The Beach Boys weren't indie'!) and Mega City Four as well as Hughie airing 'The Six Teens' by The Sweet as he knew Huggy likes them. We also played 'Marching On' (Hughie thought the vocals 'sounded like Queen'; Malcolm sent a rude text message almost immediately!) and 'So What About Love?' (many-a mention of Paul Fox who produced our single) by The Price and talked about our past, our present and indeed our future - I'm not sure that it'll make a huge difference to the size of the audience on Friday or indeed our audience generally, but they seem to be a good bunch at the station (which is a project well worth supporting in my not-so-humble opinion) and we really enjoyed ourselves. Excellent!

Everybody had a hard year

First things first- happy new year! Happy new decade! Hurrah!

So- how was 2009 for you? Almost everyone I've spoken to on the subject uses words like 'awful', 'dreadful', 'terrible'... but it can't have been that bad- can it? And how about the last decade, the 'noughties' as they (whoever 'they' are) like to call it- any thoughts on that as a decade?

Here are a few thoughts on the decade's popular music- can it really have been this bad?!?

Well my decade ended with myself and the long-suffering Shirley watching a 'Tomb Raider' film and 'Jools Holland's Hootenanny' on T.V. (since you've asked I thought the film was good escapist fun whilst The Hootenanny was about as enjoyable as any show presented by the increasingly nauseating Mr. Holland can be...) which was something of a surprise to us both as I'd been expecting to be out gigging with Huggy's band as reported at the start of my last blog posting. So- why wasn't I?

Having helped arrange the gig for the band I'd been enlisted as guest guitarist several months ago; my friend Cliff is a member at the club and through him I'd got Huggy's band a gig there back in the summer which had gone well and resulted in them being offered the coveted New Year's Eve show. However since the last show at the club they had parted company with their guitarist/singer and had recently recruited a replacement who, being less than confident of his abilities to sustain an evening's entertainment without adequate rehearsal had asked a friend of his from another band to help out on the night. The 5 of us rehearsed on Tuesday evening and very good it sounded too; all agreed that with a bit of homework before the gig we should be able to deliver a good performance which, let's face it, is pretty important- not least because we were being well paid for the show.

So it was then that around 2 p.m. yesterday your humble narrator found himself in front of a computer with a guitar on his knee and (gulp!) Queen on the screen playing 'Now I'm Here' on YouTube. Having just about got the hang of it (and I guess I should admit here that despite my often-mentioned disinterest in the band's music this is a good song. There- I said it!) I was about to swallow what was left of my pride and attempt 'We Are The Champions' (which listened to now is every bit as boring as I remember it to be. Ah- that's better!) when my phone rang.

It was Huggy. He didn't sound too happy, and he got straight to the point. The drummer had decided that the money shouldn't be split equally between the 5 of us; rather that the 3 'real' band members should receive more, considerably more than the 2 guest players as they had 'done all the work' and therefore should be rewarded accordingly. I won't mention the actual figures involved but the maths of his idea meant that 80% of the money would be split between the 3 of them with the remaining 20% split between us 6-stringers.

Now- bearing in mind that we'd all be there for the same amount of time and all be on stage for the whole show, does that sound fair to you?

No, me neither. It didn't sound to good to Huggy but, well, that was what the drummer was saying. 'Let me think about it' said I, promising to call him back in a few minutes with some sort of vague plan... virtually as soon as I put the phone down on him Cliff rang to see how things were going; to say that he was disappointed with my reply is a strong contender for the understatement of the year or indeed the decade. He was LIVID. I don't remember the last time I heard someone sound so angry. In between the swearing he stated clearly- and I mean clearly!- that I was not to do the show under those terms which I must admit I'd already decided for myself. (Initially he was going to call the club to tell them to cancel the band altogether but I talked him out of that- maybe I should have let him!) In the meantime Shirley arrived home and heard some of our phone conversation; when I'd finished talking- maybe that should be listening!- to Cliff I explained the situation to her but before she could say much Cliff was back on the phone to say that he'd called the club and they'd put my 10% in an envelope with my name on it which I could collect anytime and to reiterate that under no circumstances was I to play the show. I told him I felt bad about taking money for a show that I wasn't playing- then again I'd turned down subsequent gig offers as I thought I was working so I guess it's a cancellation fee? His opinion was rather more forthright...

I spoke to Huggy again, and told him that I wasn't doing the show. He described himself as 'distraught'. He sounded it. I wonder how his drummer felt?

As I sat on the settee tinkering with my (unplugged) old Les Paul Deluxe Lara Croft's hair got burned- it had fallen into the black acid that Pandora's Box was floating in as she was suspended upside down above it. I'd never been paid for watching T.V. before- I looked at the clock and said something like 'they'll be playing now' to Shirley, 'I hope Huggy's alright'. Her reply of 'there's not much you can do about it now' summed the situation up- once I'd decided not to do the show it was all out of my hands- but I still hoped that Huggy was alright. We went through a lot together in The Price, and although the end of the band caused a rift that took many years to heal it couldn't detract from the fact that me and him always played well together and always play well together now. In an odd way it also seemed to sum 2009 up, a year which promised much but delivered surprisingly little when you think about it- I lost my work at Pro Music (remind me to tell you that story one day!) which coupled with a lack of gigging resulted in me nearly staring bankruptcy in the face (and with an income tax bill looming if I'd not been able to get some work at Balcony Shirts that might well have happened) which obviously impacted very seriously on the last few months in my little life- but that's nothing compared to some people's stories. Is it possible for a year to be 'bad'? A lot of people think that last year was!

I spoke to Huggy this morning. His verdict on the gig- 'we got away with it'. I thought he meant musically but I was wrong- he nearly rang me from the venue to try to persuade me to play after the other guest guitarist had threatened to walk out when he heard what had happened to me and what the drummer was proposing to pay him. He only stayed after Huggy and the singer agreed to chip in and give him some of their money- the drummer refused to give him any of his, but I bet you'd guessed that already. Nice guy huh?

Greed is funny stuff isn't? And people are really disappointing sometimes aren't they?

Happy new year y'all, let's hope it's a 'good' one...