Sunday, 17 February 2013

Myles Roland Bartholomew / Shipton / The Divorcée

Name: Myles Roland Bartholomew

Bands: Shipton (
The Divorcée (

Where: ?

I can safely say that I have played my share of awful shows for awful promoters, so I've had a long hard think about a story that is interesting enough to share with you, and this one seems to keep climbing to the top of the list... 

It was the Sunday of a warm Summer’s day, the perfect night for my whiny, acoustic widdlings. I made my way to the venue early, something I always try to do, "the early bird gets the worm" and all that. 

Upon arrival I entered the currently empty bar, bought myself a pint, rolled myself a cigarette and awaited the arrival of the promoter. The promoter eventually arrived, late, walked straight up to me and before he'd even thought to say "hello" asked me where everyone was. 
Now I've never put on a show in my life but I've always thought that getting an idea of crowd attendance and keeping in contact with the whereabouts of the acts was something that came with the job? 

I told him I didn't know, he swiftly thanked me for actually turning up and bought me a well-received drink. 

This particular Sunday night was also the night of a semi-important football match, which was part of the Euro cup. I'm not really a follower of football, so it didn't make much difference to me but the bar in question was showing the match, which I was happy to watch while I waited for instructions. 
Turns out I was in for a long wait...

Apparently the manager of the bar wasn't even really aware that there was meant to be a show on that night and, as a result, was reluctant to turn off the football in case hundreds of thirsty football fans were to come rushing in and fill up his cash register. By this time there was me, two friends, and one half-drunk man at the bar, who seemed more interested in ogling the barmaid than the match. 

I was then told that the show might have to be pushed back until after the match had finished, or at least until half time, or in twenty minuets time, or in twenty four minutes time...the promoter was as unsure as I was as to when we were actually allowed to start. 

The other acts eventually turned up and were told the same thing. I eventually got given an expected time to start my set; 10pm, I was originally told 8pm. I was then told that one of the acts had to go on before me because he had work in the morning/a dental appointment/didn't want to play at midnight/had better things to do, so my time got pushed back to 10.30-10:45pm. 

I was then told that I wouldn't be getting paid that night (which came as no surprise) but I would be given a free roast dinner as compensation, unfortunately though the kitchen was shut, so I didn't even get my free microwaved dinner... a sore loss.

After the fuss and confusion of when to start the show we were given the go ahead to "just get on with it". I eventually took to the stage after protesting my time slot because, well, I had better things to do. I began playing to my two friends, the promoter, the drunken ogler and the ogled barmaid. 

Due to the severe importance of the football match bringing in the punters over, y'know live music, the football was kept on the television over my set. There was a screen on the wall directly opposite my seat on the stage, which gave me a perfect view of the game while I played. There was also one directly behind my head, so this gave me a choice of watching the game, which I really wasn’t overly bothered about or the faces of my huge crowed looking over my shoulder while I sang my heart-felt songs from my half drunk mouth. 

I'm not a big football fan, but I was that night.

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