You’ve spent this whole wonderful day huddled inside at your filthy screen, trying to manage your endless list of e-petitions, while outside in the so-called real world pubic figures are shouting themselves hoarse by trying to compare things to Hitler, and the streets of our town are rendered impassable by a thousand multi-media immersive happenings, spreading dread and despair among the population - time for JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH to come riding to the rescue on it’s shining silver charger, driven on by the endless stream of good grooves and solid soulful licks courtesy of Luke “Lord Invader” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “The Lozinator” Thomas (drms), plus the matchless hospitality of the Bee’s team and their libations of delight, and any number of freaks, monsters, heroes, zeros, dweebs, gonzos, drongos, gypsies*, lovers and thieves .... time to throw your tethered device into the sea, tear your hungry eyes from FB’s algorthymically curated attempts to CONTROL YOUR WORLDVIEW, grab your axe down off the shelf and come and join us.... really, what’s to lose?
*probably not actual gypsies.
It’s such a strain keeping up.. should you join the tatto’ed, bearded Great Escape throng as they tryto trade up the Wristband Of Hope for the Lanyard Of Success, and avoid the Guest List Of Despair? Should you catch something reassuringly arty and taxpayer-funded dangling off the side of a building at the Festival? Should you just stay in a darkened room and tremble at the impending Trump/Boris/Brexit clusterfuck to end all clusterfucks? Here at JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH we’ll be carrying on with our own sweet stone groove, daddi-o, so if it all gets too much just come on over and let the healing vibes pour over you courtesy of the imperturbable brilliance of Luke “Iron Man” Rattenbury (gtr) and the volcanic explosions of rhythm and grace erupting endlessly forth from the fiend in human shape that is Loz “The Lozinator” Thomas , plus me on bass, while the fragrant and mysterious Bee’s team beckon from the scented shadows with promises of the finest liquors known to humanity, and the warm promise of summer blows in on the salt air from the where the darkling street meets the black gulf of night, studded with stars, alive with the endless ebb and flow upon the shingle... you’d like it, so why not try it?
So you’ll never get to ride on the big wheel, or figure out who won the local elections by puzzling irritably over all those conflicting graphs, or go and see you mate’s cutting edgecomedy night/soundscape creation for the Fringe in a sweaty tent surrounded by street drinkers... assuage your chagrin and get along to JAZZ NGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where we’re getting the old gang back together again, featuring those towering monsters of musical magic Luke “Godzilla” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Driller Killer” Thomas (drms) locked into the god grooves, aided by me on bass, while the otherworldly denizens of the Bee’s team beckon mysteriously from the scented twilight that wraps it’s intoxicating effulgent miasma around the well-stocked bar, the severed mannikin head spins eternally, cult movies play in the fungal basement, and the warm breath of summer blows down the darkling streets outside past the ragged flotsam and jetsam of humanity, washed here from who knows what inland tempest of misery and intemperance? It’ll be a stone groove, y’all.
Alright now, that’s enough! As Labour struggle with the persistent problem of anti-labourism in the Labour party and the Tories continue to fail at absolutely everything except staying in government, we at JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH have other fish to fry... like how to contain the awesome talent monster that is this week’s special guest PAUL RICHARDS (gtr) without the whole joint going buck wild til they call the private ‘protection enforcement officers’..... plus the regular earth-shaking shenanigans from the unstoppable force that is Loz “The Id’ Thomas (drms), and the fabulous Bee’s team ready at their stations to serve you endless libations of the finest liquors known to humanity.. I’ll be there on bass back from continental excursions, and who knows what raindrenched funseekers may straggle in, all worn out from a long weekend’s gruelling hedonsim? Get yer axe down off the shelf and come and sit in with us, it’ll be immense.