As Brighton braces itself before the approaching Tsunami of fabulousness about to splash onto our pebbly shores in a rainbow coloured wash with Britney riding the spume like a blinged up Nereid, the fainter hearted amongst us may be tempted to bolt for the holiday break like our noble and hardworking politicians, taking back control by doing nothing at all, but before you hit the open sore that is Stansted in your pursuit of the sun, stop off at JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where you’ll find the heatwave is still in full effect thanks to the unwavering front of high pressure created by those masters of groove Luke ‘Gulf Stream’ Rattenbury (gtr) and special guest Tristan ’T-Bone’ Banks (drms) as they get busy at the molecular level to set up a forcefield of good vibrations for you all to come and shelter in … I’ll be doing whatevs on bass, the immaculate ascended beings of the Bee’s team will be waiting, poised in the scented shadows behind the well-stocked bar, the creatures of the night will come and go, come and go on the crowded pavement outside, the velvet darkness above the crumbling rooftops will be alive with stars and possibilities, and you should really get out of that subreddit you’ve been stuck in, shitposting your way to loneliness, and come and join us as we celebrate whatever the hell is going to happen next, leave your hangups at the door and come and get down with the good groove, you know it makes sense…
The lambent cerulean envelops us, stretching above like a giant resounding bell sending waves of heat in a noiseless tocsin to drown the petty concerns of our time-snarled mortality, each second swollen with warmth into a motionless moment, the only movement from the screaming swifts riding the soaring updraughts… which is just as well, as our mortal affairs have never been in such a hopeless frickin mess, so it’s just as well that JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is here once again to provide a moment of clarity in a world where ‘would’ means ‘wouldn’t’, ‘Deal or No Deal’ is now a current affairs programme, no-one understands whether a ‘Tory Rebel’ is one of the idiots in a top hat or one of the other idiots trying to thwart them, and the only credible opposition to it all is too busy arguing about how rude you can be to Jews to get themselves together… luckily we have the united front of Luke ‘Chief Whip’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Black Rod’ Thomas (drms) doing their thing to create a better world by filling our little corner of it with a force field of hot swinging blues-to-bop-to-whatever, aided in some manner by me on bass, and the embodied vibrations of positivity known on this plane as the Bee’s Team standing by ready with the quality hooch to ease your troubled mind… don’t hunker down in a dingy basement, stockpiled with Huel against the coming Brexitopalypse, waiting for the invisible worm that flies in the night in the howling storm to seek out YOUR bed of crimson joy, don’t watch another youtube video as long as you live, don't forget the petrichor will return, don’t give up, don’t lose that number, just grab yer axe off the shelf and come and join us, let’s do a thing.
As the sun beats endlessly down from the unblemished cerulean, is there a shadow starting to cloud the edges of your overstimulated consciousness? Maybe all those plastic straws you used in the 90s have precipitated the next level of climate change, maybe the Love Island bods are just bots, maybe the internet isn’t really a force for good, maybe it won’t be alright after all? Thanks god it’s Monday and JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is back to offer a safe haven in the ominous shitstorm brewing up outside, where nothing’s coming home except Brexit, as the government crumbles away into a puff of acrid dust, the inflatable Trumpkin and Mr Putin snicker and pass each other secret love notes at the back of the class, and Elon Musk reveals himself to be every bit as spiritually stunted as we all suspected, cos we’ve got Luke ‘Lightsabre’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Cosmic Vibrations” Thomas (drms) sending out a counterblast of pure musical good vibes to top up your feelgood factor and send you out ready for whatever new example of howling idiocy the week may have in store… I’ll be along doing something on bass as per, Captain Jack will be at the helm with his trusty Bee’s crew ready to slake your thirst with libations of top grade hooch, all kinds of good things will be happening, so hang up your hangups, get on the good foot and come and join us, let’s make it happen.
Off they go hand in hand… exit from Brexit Island for Mr Davis AND Bojo in their Union Jack bikinis, (but who’s getting mugged off here?), entry for the invincible head of Mr Maguire on his enchanted inflatable unicorn of magical footballing wish fulfilment, while the giant inflatable Trumpkin prepares to treat us all to a round of maximum high-security golf .. if you can’t possibly imagine what might be about to happen next, don’t get stressy, let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH be your anchor, cos we’re back once again like the D4 damagers spreading peace, love and power to the people through the medium of hot swinging blues-to-bop-to-whatever thanks to the tireless efforts of Luke “Renegade Master’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Ill Behaviour” Thomas (drms) as they lay out a magic carpet ride powered by good musical vibrations to lift you high over the sun-scorched rooftops, baby seagulls, daredevil scaffolders, boy racers, paddle boarder show offs, those wierd leathery old men like desiccated mummies in tiny tiny cut-off shorts who only appear on the beach when there’s more than three days of consecutive sunshine, sweating unhappy goths waiting for the darkness to return, a thousand jubilant geezers sporting their deepening salmon tans, and the acrid smoke and stench of scorched flesh from the beach barbecues, as the radiant sun beats down from the peerless azure until Venus hangs low over the horizon and the languid zephyrs kick up the dust…I’ll be doing something or other on bass, the supernatural ascended beings of the Bee’s team will be laying out the quality hooch, your favourite creatures of the night will all be there, so quit lolling about in from of your overheated screen, lurking behind your digital blackface as you seek further shitposting opportunities, quit casting about for a Bojo joke that hasn’t already been made, quit your fruitless brexitty speculation and bask in the knowledge that no-one knows anything anymore, get back on the good foot and come and join us, be a shining star and keep your head to the sky….
England in, Germany out? Willy Hague frees the weed, sun shining on bank holidays, double Dyer whammy enriches our cultural and political lives as Dani weeps and Danny deploys his finest geezer vocab to elucidate the finer points of Brexit in ways that poor Maybot can only dream of as she slowly withers away like a witch with a chimney on her.. if you feel you’re living in a dream world where anything is possible, JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH returns to reassure you that it’s all part of the plan, so come and bask in the permanent zone of high pressure created by those masters of the musical isobars Luke ‘Heatwave’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Scorchio’ Thomas (drms) as they scoop up all the millions of notes left lying around in heaps after the weekend’s Love Supreme jazzfest and refashion them into delicious slices of cool swinging bop-to-blues-to-whatever to slake your parched cerebellum, plus maybe some souped-up bossa (dependent on final score) … I’ll be there playing something on bass and yelling like a nutcase, between the sun-baked stucco cliffs the streets will resound with the rubbery whisper of the flip-flops of a thousand excited/despondent latinos, the golden denizens of the endless ultraworld known in this dimension as the Bee’s Team will be waiting in the scented shadows behind the well-stocked bar to slake your thirst with some quality liquor - don’t bother trying to get wavy like a rebel for the last time before they make it legal, don’t be a sulky Messi, be an exultant Drogba, grab yer axe and come and join us, let’s celebrate.