Spring is here, the blackcaps have returned, the blossom is heavy and sweet upon the bough, Kenny won Masterchef, and best of all, we’ve chilled out on the the complete-Armageddon-mutually-assured-destruction trip that was really negging our vibe over the weekend, so better celebrate by getting your unfragged corporeal envelope and it’s precious spark of ineffable essence down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where you can celebrate the continuing existence of that much contested entity, Western Civilisation, with all it’s cute little quirks that generate up so many of your status updates, and bask in the otherworldly aura shining forth from those twin supernovae Luke ‘Lightspeed Champion’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Dark Matter’ Thomas (drms) as they sketch out glittering arcs of musical radiance through the heavily scented air, aided by me on bass, as the ever-ready Bee’s team wait, poised, in the velvet dusk behind the well-stocked bar, ready to slake your well-earned thirst with all kinds of quality hooch…. time to leave your newsfeed to it’s dreary little sockpuppets, the pointlessly depressing spectacle of Mrs May weeping softly in the cupboard under the stairs, Mr Corbyn dithering away like the dear sweet useless old thing he is, Mr Trump huffing and puffing like a morally corrupt hippopotamus, Mr Putin doing… what, exactly? - what is he doing? A murrain upon them all, come and jam some swinging shit with us, keep on keeping on. Ketogenic marathon survivors welcome, come and put yer feet up.
Face up to it, you feel dirtied even looking at fb now that we all know that your carefully curated persona is just grist to Mark “Who, ME?” Zucker’s data mill, and your lovingly tended feed, so artfully garnished with American Chopper memes and links to stuff that nonchalantly signals all the right types of virtue, is actually sticky with the grubby fingerprints of the nameless trolls who brought you BrexiTrump… time to sashay out of cyberspace and into JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH, pausing only to post to say you’re leaving fb, then sharing to insta and all other platforms - you know it's guaranteed to refresh your flagging sense of self-worth cos that’s where we’ll be feeling the feels for real thanks to the unwavering commitment of Luke ‘No Filler’ Rattenbury (gtr) and special guest salty dog Tristan ’T-Bone’ Banks (drms) as they make the softness of the vernal night come alive with a rushing torrent of bebop creativity, underpinned by my efforts on bass, while the shimmering ascended beings of the Bee’s team stand by ready to offer healing libations of quality liquor to our valued customers and to soothe the inevitable influx of late night nutcases with their soft words and jedi mind control powers… it’s time to re-connect with the good stuff, leave all the pointless negging to the pickup saddos, gird your loins, reset your shattered visage and get back on the good foot…. don’t wait, don’t hesitate, join us, join us..
How will YOU be taking back control this glorious bank holiday? Basking in the gallant British rain? Hastily whitewashing over a fearless British mural? Greeting your macho Aussie pals by pretending to cry like a girl? Quit all that sorry shit and get along to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where you can rediscover your bad self as the layers of quotidian bullshit get scoured away quicker than a car-park valeting service under the inspirational jet-wash of pure musical good vibes wielded by those masters of free-flowing hot licks and good grooves Luke ‘Riptide’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Babyfather’ Thomas (drms), plus me on bass, while the intra-dimensional beings manifesting themselves on this plane as the Bee’s Team stand by ready to make with the quality liquors at your request ... don’t hide away watching the indie-flick antics of whimsical stop-motion dogs, don’t expend more of your precious energy on yet another convoluted fb justification while those busy little algorhythms strip-mine a little more of your soul, liberate your mind and come and join us, celebrate good times, come on.