So spring is here, Big Brother is finally revealed to be a camp pink-haired Canadian, the Beast From The East continues to gain depth as a metaphor while Stormy Daniels is revealed as far, far more than a high-pressure weather front, Zizzi has become the edgy frontline of a new cold war amidst the outrage of the nation’s saturday shoppers, and Nigel F*cking Farage is still with us, pissing about with some dead fish….. confused? Let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH provide your disordered cerebellum with some context to sort out the wheat from the chaff and the sheep from the goats, by sending a rushing torrent of musical good vibes in your direction thanks to the tireless ministrations of Luke ‘Sturm’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Drang’ Thomas (drms) plus me on bass, and the regular crew of highly evolved multi-dimensional beings waiting behind the well-stocked bar to pour you libations of the finest liquors known to man, plus the regular crew of shimmering shapeshifters, nameless creatures of the night, schlemils and schnorrers, schmoes, weepers, jeepsters, souses, hopheads and the occasional stuffed shirt…. if the turgid sludge of disinformation pushing it’s way onto your compromised newsfeed is messing with your vibe, if all your data has migrated onto the darkweb and is now trying to kill you, if you just can’t tell which way is up any more, then just remember your device isn’t implanted yet, hit ‘off’, grab yer axe off the shelf and come and join us… soon the voice of the cuckoo will be heard across the land, the woods at dawn will be alive with the wild cleansing cacophony of tiny cries, out across the swelling tide the herring will begin to spawn, the world turns on it’s axis, we’re still here and so should you be…
Bored of weather that only climate change deniers are enjoying? BoJo’s Latin tags failing to raise a smile? YouTube’s freshest face plants barely raising a callous smirk? You need to get out more, so photoshop yourself into a big furry hat and snowshoes and get down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where we’ll be raising the temperature with the torrid stylings of Luke ‘Fahrenheit 451’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Thermonuclear Sweat’ Thomas (drms) as they cut loose with another turbulent yet perfectly choreographed melee of bop-to-blues-to-beats-to-whatever, aided by me on bass, guaranteed to warm your non-gendered cockles despite the unintelligible protestations of that chilly Dr Peterson and his online army of intersectionally aggrieved gonks, while the lambent pellucid denizens of the mysterious shadows behind the well-stocked bar wait, vibrating imperceptibly, to pour you a libation of quality liquor under the watchful eye of dauntless fret-meister Jack Rowan... quit pining for the carefree Zorbing days of summer, stop your twitchy little fb fingers delivering the last vestiges of your so-called personality into Cambridge Analytica’s bottomless maw, put yourself and your opinions temporarily beyond the reach of Vladdy ‘Laughing Boy’ Putnik’s busy bots ... don’t get mad, don’t even try to get even, just get down to where the good vibes are, we’ll be waiting.