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Been to a gig? Have anything to say? Send any comments to feedback@the-hyperbolics.co.uk and provided they don't contravene our ISP's obscenity policy we'll post them here. | ||||
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A distinct absence of Hypernews recently, probably something to do with the main scribe getting distracted recently (wedding, etc.). Anyway, a return trip to the Rosie in Malmesbury, partly to celebrate the amiable landlord Tom's 45th birthday. Usual car parking nonsense to begin with, though Mark found himself a spot right outside. Not a big crowd during the set-up and we were fearful of another dead night, like the previous night's gig in Sleepy Hollow (White Lion in Cricklade). We delayed kick-off to 9.15 and it was a wise move. A few punters moved in and our choice of Suffragette City to commence proceedings was met with some instant dancing by a very smart and even more tipsy Irish lass. Her repeated requests for a song by CCR were met with rejection but she persisted until the drink finally and inevitably took its toll and her feller carted her off into the night. By now the place was getting quite busy with dancing breaking out all around and the decision to go for more of a 70s set-list well and truly vindicated. The punk songs went down very well, even Did You No Wrong, as did Mystery Train for the landlady Carol (a big Elvis fan). Tom took his turn at singing Going Underground and the crowd moved even closer to the action at the front, forcing Mark to recruit Keith's bodyguard services. An hour and a half later and Tom had another go at a Jam song (Town Called Malice) and that was almost that. We finished at about 12.15 with the place positively heaving and the lads in desperate need of some refreshment. Del spent a good half hour trying to locate his car keys - evidence that newly married life and old age do not always combine to great effect. A very enjoyable evening all round. Another booking requested but no mutually compatible spaces in the diary until November. Another outing into the heart of Wiltshire, a return trip to the Rose & Crown at Malmesbury. A nice little pub with a great couple (Tom & Carol) in charge and an interesting bunch of locals. The crowd was distinctly sparse at the start, so we shifted our start time to 9.15 hoping for a sudden influx of punters - but no such luck. We seemed to be playing to only about 10 customers for the first hour, though it's never easy to tell as there are always some hidden away in the other bar area and pool room. We stuck to a fairly standard set of numbers with the usual mix of rock, punk and indie classics and played quite a bit tighter than we had in some of our more recent gigs. Rockin' In The Free World made another appearance and appears to be improving with time. Everyone seemed to appreciate our efforts and the crowd gradually grew to almost the point of respectability by around 11pm. There was even some dancing, especially when we launched into the Teen Spirit phase of the set, enough to cause concerned expressions regarding the possibility of our kit being knocked over. Del's voice lasted until the bitter end, unlike the previous Thursday night's gig in Shrivenham when the last few songs turned into croaking sessions. The landlord Tom took his turn on stage and belted out our two Jam classics with aplomb (we promised to learn yet another for the next time we play there). We finished at around midnight. A good night had by all but a pity that there weren't a few more there to enjoy it with us. A rearranged fixture - it was originally meant to have taken place 2 weeks ago - and a long trip down south to Bulford Camp for a military ball. We set off bright and early to get there in good time to be set up before the meal at 8, meaning a lot of hanging around in between. Some boring Spanish football in the TV room did little to keep us entertained and our attempts at getting some pre-gig food and drinks was only mildly successful. Mel's efforts at jumping in before the crowds to get to the strawberries and chocolate fountain earned herself a stiff rebuke from the catering staff and a sheepish apology later from the guy in charge of the booking. All highly amusing. Three African acrobats were on just before us but the DJ had done a runner, meaning that they had to resort to using our mini cd player to provide their music. They were great fun and were a tough act to follow. The crowd was mostly dressed up to the night's African theme and Matt and Del had also made a token effort at dressing towards the theme. It was about 10.30 when we started and, for a pleasant change, the crowd were up and dancing straight away. It was all highly entertaining, except for one extremely annoying feller who had a bee in his bonnet about Phil being "the man" and insisting on shouting this out to us for almost 2 hours. There was a brief respite when he dropped some young lady on the dance floor with the result of a a nasty bump to the back of her head in the process. The dancing action continued right the way through until midnight when the DJ started to whinge about having his turn. We carried on for another half hour and finished at about 12.30, a very short night for us (music-wise, at least). A couple of free beers and then a long drive home. Originally scheduled as a night out in Swindon at the Greyhound, but a change of heart by its landlord meant a return journey to the Goldie and yet another local gig for the Highworth-based half of the band. The usual confusion at the start with us expecting 8.30 and the posters in the bogs saying 9ish - we eventually struck up the opening chords at 8.45 as a good working compromise. A much bigger crowd than the last time we played there, possibly partly due to the Fairford Air Tattoo viewing being hosted by the pub during the day but probably just due to it being a Saturday rather than a Friday. Some very familiar faces in the crowd, including last week's wedding couple Jason & Jo and the motley crew from The Eagle, meant that the dancing started a lot earlier than usual. If you could call it that. We'd gone for a usual mixture of rock, indie, punk and pop and every song seemed to reap a generous response from the addled crowd. Matt seemed a little out of sorts, though appreciably better than his previous Highworth gig at the Cellar Bar - at least he stayed until the bitter end this time! No new songs as such, though Handbags And Gladrags & Creep saw the light of day once again to please the newly-weds. We cracked on until about 11.20 so a relatively short night for us. A good time seemingly had by all. A strange one this… (a) A Sunday gig (only one of the weekend), (b) A 5-8 time-slot, (c) Singing to a wall, only 2 metres away! Yes, a return trip to the Cellar Bar in Highworth after its recent revamp, which saw the bar move to our usual set-up spot and meant we had to squeeze together somewhere in the middle. Probabaly the hottest day of the year too which unfortunately (but understandably) meant that half of the anticipated punters decided instead to spend time slapping on the suncream and burning bangers on their barbies. We'd plumped for a slightly more mellow set than usual due to the event's venue and timing, meaning a return of the likes of The Circle, Under The Bridge, I Wouldn't Believe Your Radio and Design For Life. We started with our usual punctuality at about 5.15 with Matt looking distinctly green around the gills, not looking a good advert for the joys of fatherhood. The first few songs were negotiated reasonably OK but then matters took a turn for the worse when our aforementioned star drummer did a runner half way through The Circle. We looked at each other and carried on through our slow medley minus percussion. He eventually returned from the bog bearing an even more rancid shade of green and informed us that he was off! Band discussion followed - sack it or carry on regardless with a bit of tambourine and woodblock thrown in for good measure. We decided on the latter, dropping half of our usual rock fayre but helped out buy some volunteer percussionists on the way (I'm not sure if that was necessarily true of the 7 year-old boy's tambourine stint, though it was at least entertaining!). Mel turned up trumps with her woodblock skills and we managed to coax Mark into getting through to our scheduled 8pm finish by scraping the bottom of the song barrel. Next big saga was packing Matt's gear away! Yes, a very eventful Sunday evening had by all! The third time we've played the Royal Oak under three different landlords. What is clear is that Friday Night is not Music Night in the outer reaches of Old Town in the rain. A few hardliners installed themselves before the start and most more-or-less stayed the distance but there wasn't much in the way of passing trade. Unfortunately The Royal Oak isn't on the way to or from anywhere much. A couple or three people stuck their heads in the door - one of whom looked suspiciously like Derek's daughter - but few stayed. We left it a little late in starting, waiting for the hordes to assemble. When none materialised we cut our losses and launched into the set playing to the stolid few. It's always hard work playing to a small seated audience in a large room (Phil, who looked like he hadn't slept for a week before we started, looked like he hadn't slept for a fortnight by the time we finished) and in these situations Matt generally favours avoiding prolonging the agony and cutting things short - not really the attitude of a true trouper. The half life of the audience seemed to be about two and a half hours and we stuck it out to somewhere approaching midnight. We offered the choice of encore to those still propping up the bar and finished with God Save The Queen. It was then pack up, load the cars in the drizzle and regroup for the Harley Riders Club on the morrow. The start of another busy weekend for the boys, starting with another foray into Watchfield for an Eagle gig. The last time we played there it was absolutely jam-packed but the crowd was much thinner on the ground this time around, no doubt due to various big Shrivenham courses being unavailable. We delayed kick-off until about 9.10, hoping for a few more punters to show up but eventually gave up hope and decided to crack on regardless. Mark struggled to remember our opening song (Learn To Fly) which did not auger well for the evening ahead but we should not have worried on that score. Matt also seemed a little out of sorts, missing the occasional beats just to keep us on our toes. Things ticked along nicely with sporadic dancing and the crowd gradually beginning to grow to respectable proportions. We gave Born To Run its debut, to a semi-appreciative reception. The landlady Liz then had a few words with us as some neighbours had been complaining about the noise and we duly tweaked our settings down a little. A few mellow songs seemed to sort everything out - or so we thought. Back into head-banging mode with Paranoid and Ace Of Spades getting the crowd going until word came through that the boys in blue had put in an appearance. The plugs had to be pulled and that was that, at 11.15 with another 45 minutes and 14 songs on the agenda! Not sure whether the Eagle will ever feature on the Hyper tour circuit again! Our second gig at the Goldfinger. Since the last, about five months ago, a major refurbishment had taken place and the internal layout revamped. We were still in the same place but playing to the whole pub instead of just the half we played to last time. We intended to kick off at 8:30 as we would be limited to an 11ish finish; when asked whether he had reminded the rhythm section Derek retorted with 'how many times do I have to tell them'. The answer was at least once more than he did. Phil did arrive in reasonable time but Matt turned up in what he thought was good time for a 9 o'clock start, but what proved to be too late for an 8:30 start. We eventually managed an 8:45 start - which probably took the locals a little by surprise as Derek's posters had advertised 9:00. We were playing in front of a lot of glass which meant that the sound was likely to be a little 'mushy' but there was a fair bit of drunken dancing (and falling) which probably soaked some of it up. At one point during Radar Love, Derek was distracted to the point of silence by a groover trying to arrest his falling by catching hold of his partner's skirt, which wasn't up to the job and ended up on the floor with him. Due to our time limit some of the set-list had to be jetisoned as the evening progressed and we left the crowd calling for more at about 11:15 after an encore of Killing In The Name (performed at breakneck speed, explained by Matt's rush to the Gents' almost before the last chord had finished ringing.) All in all a reasonably successful evening. Back to our favourite venue in Wootton Bassett just couple of months after our last visit. We anticipated a fairly quiet night as it was the back end of the second four-day weekend in two weeks. And sure enough, a quietish night it was. After more than the usual faffing about setting up we kicked off at about 9.15. Derek had flown in from a ten day sojourn in Barbados, landing a few hours earlier, and, though looking as if he hadn't slept for two days (albeit one of the days being five hours shorter than the other), vocally he was up to Hyperbolic speed in no time. However, the previous weekend's break from gigging and the bank-holiday excesses exacted more of a toll on the rest of the band and The Shambolics put in more appearances than usual. Verses, choruses, guitar solos and more, either missing, reordered or curtailed provided a bit of interest and variation for those in the audience who had seen us before. (And for those in the band not party to any particular variation at the time.) However, apart from the odd dodgy or false start, it wasn't too obvious to those not previously Hyperbolixed. Although the audience was a little thin on the ground it was appreciative; there was even the odd outbreak of dancing as the night wore on. We aimed to finish at twelve though, after a few encores, we ended at about quarter past leaving the more persistent wanting more, the remainder to enjoy their fourth bank holiday in a fortnight and us to wind our weary way home. Another trip to one of our favourite local venues, The Eagle in Watchfield. The last time we played there it had been very busy and lively - and this was to surpass even that occasion. The word had been spread far and wide and there was barely a spare standing or sitting place to be had by the time we kicked off (late, as ever, at 9.10 - when will we ever manage to be ready for a scheduled start-time?). No new songs to speak of, due to a lack of mid-week rehearsal but we still had a packed setlist of 48 songs (with plenty more in reserve, if requested). The dancing and frolicking began almost immediately and there was barely a let-up all night with the crowd getting more and more wound up as we blasted on. Mark was on top form, though I'm sure he'd disagree with that, while Phil and Matt were as solid as ever. No major horlicks that I can recall and we carried on until the energy reserves gradually became depleted at about 12.20, ending unusually with Walk This Way. An excellent evening - great to play to an appreciative crowd. The Hyperbolics' 201st gig - a rare Thursday night out at the revamped Barrington Arms in Shrivenham, under new management (yet again). This was a last minute booking, the thought of an imminent weekend off being too much for the band to bear without a regular fix of Hyper-noise. The jungle drums had been beaten and the word seemed to reach a fair crowd of locals and students for the place to be reasonably full. We had been given an experimental role to play, testing out the acoustics in the back room rather than the usual "shouting down a funnel" approach in the front bar. The usual mutterings beforehand carried no weight with Mein Host (Paul) and we duly obliged. The promised 8.30 start never materialised for a variety of reasons (courtesy of the rhythm section). Mrs. Andrews decided to bounce down some stairs at home, leaving Matt to attend the pre-gig baby chores. We all tried to stifle some laughs but to no avail. Even more comically, Phil was in his usual daydream-mode, firstly believing that it was a 9pm start and then chastising Mark for hiding his (Mark's) bass amp when it was residing in the Nobles abode all along. This all meant that it was about 8.50 before we kicked off (about 3 minutes after Phil turned up). Still no sign of Big Willy's replacement wheel. Not the best of starts and Learn To Fly failed to improve matters with Del forgetting where he was in the outro section. After that, matters improved slowly and the crowd gradually grew and became more appreciative (the usual alcohol efffect undoubtedly aiding matters somewhat). We had our second stab at All My Life - sounding OK to us at least. This has the potential to be a long-runner in the Hyper set. Brief outbursts of sporadic dancing from the usuals, though hampered somewhat by the peculiar furniture set-up. We battled through until nearly midnight, throwing Killing In The Name and Whole Lotta Rosie into the main set, just for a change, and limping across the finishing line with a tired Sweet Child O' Mine. Everyone seemed pleased with our efforts and we trooped off into the night with the drunken praise ringing in our ears. We left Phil at the bar at about 1am - God knows what time he got home. Another first for the band - a long-overdue foray into Cricklade for a gig at the White Lion. A funny night to start with - the Wales v England rugby international was in full swing on the big screen when we all pitched up, meaning a start later than usual. The less said about the result the better, by the way; suffice to say that the lead singer was not in the best of moods when the match was over and we were due to start (9.40ish). It took us ages to get started with Matt fiddling about with his bass drum for some unknown reason. Mark also had his usual tuning issues for the first 30 minutes or so, resulting in more silent time than music time. Matt forgot the start of Chelsea Dagger and in taking an earplug out to hear Phil's attempt to sing it to him and Mark and Derek shouting to forget it (confusing as he was sure that's what he was telling us) he dropped and lost it. After a couple of numbers he couldn't stand the noise, so there was another lengthy pause while the earplug was located and the racket shut out once more. We eventually picked things up and the pub gradually got a little busier with some of our usual followers in attendance (some of the Highworth gang, James and some of his mates, Keith, etc.). We tried Riverboat Song for the first time - seemed to go OK as far as I could tell anyway. The songs received warmer and warmer applause as the night wore on (and the alcohol took its inevitable effect). We played up to about 12.30 with a rousing RATM grand finale. Pats on the backs all round and several enquiries about return bookings so a good night, all in all (despite the rugby result). Another gig at one of our favourite haunts - the Eagle in Watchfield. The publicity machine had been pushed into action and it appeared to work for once - the place was absolutely jam-packed. The prolonged Christmas break and a lack of quality practice time meant that we were reluctant to do anything new, though we did resurrect a few from the vaults (e.g. Madame Helga, Hey Dude & Monkey Wrench). Big Willy was still out of action (three wheels on his wagon) but Matt proudly had his new soft stool with him to compensate. It started busy and just got busier and busier as the night wore on. The dancing started almost immediately with Suffragette City and the place got livelier and livelier (and hotter and hotter) as the show progressed. No major cock-ups to speak of, with enthusiastic responses throughout, all leading to a very enjoyable evening for one and all. The whole place seemed to be dancing by the end, doubtless fuelled by alcohol. We finished with I predict A Riot and Song 2/Buck Rogers for a change, making it just past midnight (and into someone's birthday) for another 3-hour stint. Another first for the Hypers - an appearance at the infamous Goldfinger Tavern in deepest, darkest Highworth. Actually, the place is a lot more user-friendly than in previous times due to the appearance of a very nice and efficient management team (Ian and Roz). Months of Welsh persistence finally paid off with the offer of a pre-Christmas booking. The expected big crowd never quite materialised, presumably (and hopefully) put off by the unfeasible cold snap and bone-freezing conditions. There were, however, a few regulars in attendance and a smattering of the usual followers to keep spirits up. We kicked off in usual style and Mark had great difficulty in keeping his guitar in tune, spending an inordinate amount of time fiddling about in between songs and even ducking out on the odd chord every now and then. No Shambolics moments as such, but quite close to it at times. Sweet Home Alabama was consigned to the rubbish bin and we ploughed our way through virtually the same set of songs that had been playeed over the past two months due to a combination of apathy, paternity leave and lack of practice time together. When will the crowd ever hear a new Hyper song? The crowd came to life (a little) when we entered into rock territory with Radar Love triggering off a little dancing courtesy of Paula and Jan. The punk section also went down well, along with the standard finale. We finished with RATM (winning a not very close toss-up with Slade, much to Phil's dismay). We finished at about 11.15 with everyone seeming in good spirits. Another 3-week break - I suppose the same set will be in place come January 2011... (Actually a couple of new numbers are scheduled for the next gig - on Elvis' birthday.) After a five-week break from the action, mainly due to the recent arrival of Master William Andrews, the Hypers were back at one of their favourite stomping grounds, the Prince of Wales pub in Shrivenham. The aforementioned baby was even in the crowd, undoubtedly getting his first of many tastes of Hyper-noise. We decided on an early start of about 8.40, half expecting our music to be curtailed or, at the very least, seriously quietened by the intolerant next-door neighbour. All four of the band had been nursing serious bouts of man-flu during the week with the singing department feeling decidedly ropey at the start of proceedings. There was a good crowd assembled, though the pub was not quite as packed as usual, with plenty of vocal support and dancing throughout and the usual excellent tambourine playing from Reverend Hancock. Rather surprisingly, there were few signs of rustiness from the lads and nearly all of the songs sounded as if the band had never spent any time apart. The vocal cords also held out remarkably well with even some of the more daunting songs (e.g. Rock & Roll) being given the full Hyper-treatment. The Boys in Blue turned up at about 10.30 and we fully expected to be told to shut up shop but, after a few words with the management, they drifted back off into the night and left us to carry on making our racket. Being our first gig in December, we threw in our obligatory Crimbo number, A Merry Jingle, to a mixed and rather bemused reception. We completely forgot about our Slade number, much to Phil's chagrin, who had even practised it earlier in the day. The voice started flagging towards the end and we were glad to call a halt to proceedings at about 11.15. The persistent request for Whole Lotta Rosie was unfortunately answered and that well and truly twisted the knife. All in all, a very entertaining evening. Another venture into the lively town of Wootton Bassett for a gig at one of our favourite venues, the Curriers Arms. We all turned up in reasonably good time and spirits for our standard scheduled 9pm start with a rather sparse crowd to begin with. No major Shambolics moments to talk of and the crowd gradually got bigger and bigger as the night wore on. We'd not had much of a chance to practise in recent weeks so went with more or less our set from the last few weeks, with Oblivion, Keep Yourself Alive and a debut for Teenage Kicks thrown in for good measure. We'd also decided to do Whatever You Want for Si Neads, though he didn't turn up until after we'd done it! The joint got busier and busier and we run out of steam at about 11.50 with (some of) the crowd still baying for more. A couple of big encores (Whole Lotta Rosie and Killing In The Name) brought the show to a loud and messy end. Good fun had by all. After a long time away from the pub gigging scene, it was refreshing to get back into the swing of it. We were back at the Fox & Hounds in Haydon Wick, under new management but always a nice bunch of people to play to. Unfortunately the crowd was rather sparse, a combination of it being slap bang in the middle of the summer hols and most of the regulars being away at a wedding. It's never been a particularly busy place anyway. It was, however, nice to see Mike & Collette in the crowd, celebrating the 1st wedding anniversary in style (we were their wedding band so they were presumably trying to reminisce!). For a change, we all got there in reasonably good time and without any major rear windscreen accidents and were just about ready to kick off when the clock struck 9. We took the opportunity to debut a couple of songs - Whatever You Want & Sympathy For The Devil (the collective thought that it would be better than doing them for the first time at the following weekend's wedding!). Both went reasonably OK but would definitely work better with a bigger and more reactive crowd. We also resurrected a few golden oldies, e.g. Oblivion, Fat Bottomed Girls & Honky Tonk Women - again with mixed results. We were warming up nicely when we were told that we only had 10 minutes left to play, meaning that nearly all of our planned remaining 16 songs had to be ditched! Oh well, an early finish and a chance to grab a couple of well earned lagers before heading off back home. Yet another wedding gig, this time down at a farmyard barn in Rockley (near Marlborough) for a young couple Darren & Rebecca. It was a "festival" themed wedding with all sorts of strange folk wandering around, unfortunately in the pouring rain to start with. Yet another car incident on the way, this time involving the lead singing scribe who unfortunately took a speed bump a little too quickly on the way into the farmyard. One of the speakers took umbrage to this action and decided to do a Big Willy, smashing yet another Hyper rear screen. Two in two days, must be some sort of record. The courtesy car (another story!) didn't look too good but Mark's bubble wrap came to the rescue, along with the obligatory gaffa tape. We had drawn the short straw and were first act on (5-7), immediately after the speeches. Matt succeeded in impressing us with his parenting skills beforehand, making a young lad burst into floods of tears when told to stop playing with his drum kit. Kate, be warned! Most of the crowd seemed to bugger off just as we started playing though there were a few hardy Geordie souls who stayed for the duration. It got a little busier as we ploughed on through our set with the bride eventually grabbing some mates up to dance to the last few songs. We forwent any encores so finished just after 7. Plenty of praise afterwards but a strange gig, on balance. Penfold were on later, hopefully the crowd were more receptive for them (the alcohol would have taken effect by then so presumably that would be the case). I hope they picked up plenty of tips when watching us from the sidelines. A busy week for the Hypers, this time way down south in Netheravon at the Army Parachuting Centre for their annual championships bash. Luckily, they had moved from the awful shed used previously into a much plusher hangar facility, complete with stage and gazebo for yours truly. No all-pervading smell of piss this time. We got there bright and early - all except for Phil who had an "incident" on the way, when Big Willy decided to try to escape the confines of the red Kia and make a bid for freedom. It failed in its attempt, but did manage to smash the rear screen in the process. Luckily it was dry at the time and a quick repair job with some tarpaulin and gaffa tape brought the Kia back to life. We hung around until a fireworks display had finished and then kicked into life just after 9.30. An excellent crowd with much entertaining dancing from the outset. We tailored our set to suit and threw in a dollop of cheese, along with the usual Hyper rockers. We ignored the usual requests for the likes of Journey and Queen though did a half-hearted Dancing Queen in response to some calls for Abba, with a somewhat bemused reaction. We managed a full 3 hour show, finishing with Sweet Child O' Mine. Time enough for a swift beer or two and then the long journey home, with Phil's tarpaulin flapping all the way. Thursday 15th July to Sunday 18th July 2010 Another first for the Hypers, four gigs on four consecutive days! First was an opening stint at the annual Music & Fireworks show at our local place of work (Defence Academy in Shrivenham). This is a BIG outdoors event, attracting a couple of thousand spectators to a mixture of marching band and opera music, fireworks - and this year us! The weather is usually atrocious for it and this year was no exception. We were allocated a 45-minute slot and had practised during the preceding week at ways of linking the songs together as best we could to minimise gaps and breaks. Mark had to resort to using the red Tele instead of his yellow Gibson due to the some connection problems with the latter during the week but it didn't seem to affect things too much, apart from maybe a few missed notes in Dakota. We kicked off at just after 7.05 with Suffragette City and blasted through until about 7.50 in convincing fashion, ending with 20th Century Boy. Some of the crowd appeared somewhat bemused but the majority of feedback later on was very positive. The heavens opened almost immediately after we finished, ruining the event for many but at least we'd had our bit in the (dry) limelight. Promises of another booking for the following year's event will hopefully be followed up in substance. Next (Friday) night we were at the Sun Inn in Lydiard Millicant, playing for a surreal end-of-year primary school PTA party. This was also outdoors, in a big marquee with plenty of space for us to set up and for the crowd to watch and dance (and look on in sheer dumbfoundment). The weather had perked up from the previous night's wash-out so there were more mingling outside in the garden than in the marquee but they still got to hear us in our full glory. The audience was extremely mixed, with the majority seeming to be 10 year old boys and girls. We had thrown in our party set and had the youngsters dancing around for most of the first hour or so, all highly amusing for us all. We threw in some of our usual rock and punk numbers too and the adults gradually got more and more engaged with us. An unwelcome visitor turned up during Buck Rogers - a fly found its way into Del's mouth at the "lemon, lemon, lemon..." stage, causing a significant amount of coughing and spluttering. A few glugs of DoomBar and all was OK again. By the time we played our last few songs there were a good number up dancing and apparently enjoying themselves. We finished at about 10pm with yet another Mustang Sally and a rousing Johnny B.Goode encore and left with the crowds in very high spirits. Two down and two to go. Another night, another gig, this time at the Carter's Rest in Wroughton. We had last played there on New Year's Eve but it's always a good place to play so we had been looking forward to the return. Usual deliberations at the outset with the set list gradually morphing back to the standard offering. The crowd was fairly sparse to start with; most seemed to be outside or in the adjacent bar but the crowd continued to grow as the night wore on, especially when a hen party contingent breezed their way in during Enter Sandman. We changed tack slightly and did a few of our cheesy party numbers to get the girls up and dancing and this was met with general (but not unanimous) approval. Mustang Sally (yet again) and Mark was not amused. A wasp landed on Del's back and was suitably enraptured by A Thousand Trees before being flicked into the Crowd by Phil. Del was worried about swallowing another (bigger and more painful) member of the insect family but he needn't have been concerned on this occasion. One female seemed to take a bit of a shine to Del at one point in the proceedings, the drink obviously taking its toll on her senses. We cracked on until just after 11.30 with Rocks ending the Hyper show. Time for a couple of well-earned drinks before the drives home. At last, the end of the Hyper weekend, another blast at one of our favourite venues, the New Inn in Stratton. The manager Rosco was off to pastures new and wanted to mark the occasion with some live music - hence our invitation. Quite remarkably, the Hypers are his favourite local band (no doubt to do with the partial Welsh element and preponderance of Stereophonics songs in our repertoire). We had the outdoors afternoon slot, starting at 3pm and blasted away on time with our usual renditions. More or less the usual show but with more Phonics than usual and also a welcome return of Design For Life. The crowd gradually grew, mostly with annoying little kids, but some adults also eventually started to look they were enjoying it too. The punk section seemed to get some of the punters going and we cracked on until about 5.30. By then, most of the Hypers were well and truly flagging but Rosco coaxed us into doing Bartender and Dakota while a lone AC/DC T-shirt in the crowd evoked a grand finale of Rosie. The crowd wanted a few more but we'd had enough by then. The end of a long and entertaining weekend. Never again! [You're getting soft in your old age - Ed] Beer and sleep time. A rare mid-week outing for the boyos and another debut in a local Highworth haunt, this time at the Globe pub. Not a lot of room, on a par with the PoW and Cellar Bar, but we managed to squeeze in with the trimmed-down kit. A fairly small crowd to start with, mainly comprising most of Del's Guided Weapons Course students, though the place gradually started filling up with locals and some of our stalwart supporters as the show got underway. A big change at the beginning, starting with 2468 Motorway, though this was met with bemused looks from the band and punters alike. The Finn seemed to lose his confidence and struggled with knowing what knobs to twiddle with on his latest guitar. His new on-line tuner also meant that he spent more time than usual messing about with tuning and the lack of space also meant that the wah wah pedal had to be forsaken on occasions. We threw in a few of our oldies just for a change, e.g. Hey Dude, Come Back Around and How You Remind Me. The Foos' Long Road To Ruin also got its second airing, a marked improvement on our initial offering at the Cellar Bar. We also decided to go with a Stereophonics tribute mid-way through, due to Stuart Cable's sad demise earlier in the week, bringing A Thousand Trees and Just Looking back into the set after a long break. The crowd gradually started waking and warming up at about the half-way stage; Paranoid probably starting the ball rolling. The heavy rockers were impressed and matters gradually improved from then until the finale. We had to stop at 11.30 so finished with a rousing 20th Century Boy. All things considered, a good night out, especially with no gig this coming weekend. The landlord was chuffed and another booking or two looks on the cards. Another first for the Hypers (and probably for any other rock band in the country) - a gig inside a church (St Andrews Church in Shrivenham). This was arranged a while ago by our regular Hyper-attending local vicar Richard, all in aid of the ubiquitous Help For Heroes and Church charities. The Barrington Arms was in charge of the bar - I think they underestimated the numbers who would attend since the beer run out by about 10oc, while some of the local church helpers were manning the BBQ outside. The weather was glorious and there were about 80 people in attendance. We started the rocking at about 8oc, a very surreal experience with some of the regular church punters observing us from the pews and not quite knowing what to make of what they were being subjected to. The gig gradually began to warm up as the place started filling up with some punters more used to a Hyper-racket. The expected acoustic nightmare failed to materialise, by all accounts, and most observers/listeners were fairly enthusuastic. A debut of Sweet Home Alabama really got the crowd rocking, with some of the braver (and drunker) souls taking to standing on the pews for the dancing. Rich the Vic encouraged us to take a short break which we did for a change, allowing Phil the chance to sample yet another burger. The second half of the show went very well with the whole congregation joining in for most of the dancing - the majority of it on the pews. We were coerced into doing a couple of encores, Brown Sugar and Rosie, and finished at just after 11, in time to drain another couple of drinks from the bar. A weird experience all-round but enjoyable nonetheless. A return journey to one of our local stomping grounds, the Eagle pub in Watchfield. Usual teething problems to start with, the guitar-playing half of the band think it's an 8.30 start while the other two think it's 9.00 and consequently pitch up at 8.15 to face a volley of abuse. Bad moods and scowls all around and very little of the normal pre-gig Hyper banter. The crowd was pretty sparse to start with but had begun to grow to a reasonable level by the time the clock struck 9. Despite it being St George's Day, we launched into the the standard Learn To Fly and Suffragette City starters with no adjustments needed to the sound levels for a change. Not a lot to report for the first half with just a little sporadic dancing on occasions from the likes of Paula and whomever she could drag up onto the floor. Some tremendously energetic and random dancing from Chris Frankham also brought smiles to most people's faces. The Pardy and Waymark contingents pitched up after about 45 minutes and the show gradually moved from strength to strength. The mellow set and Pearl Jam - Alive brought about the predictably puzzled looks from Paula and the rest of the dancing gang but after that it was business as usual. One rather large chap decided to doff his shirt and was very quickly followed by nearly the whole of the rest of the males in the pub (including Del and Matt, of course). The crowd remained pretty much manic until the (band's) energy levels began to drop off at about midnight and we decided enough was enough. The bad moods were still in place and there were only a few Hyper verbal exchanges before we all went our separate ways. Yet another outing to the BA; many a confusing tale to be told about the origins of this one. It is believed to have sprung from a confused conversation between Del, Mark and Jon the Greek (hardly a surprise there) after half of the Hypers dropped in to cancel a previous semi-arranged possible gig. Jon mentioned this date as an alternative but it never registered with the elder half of the Hypers and certainly never made it onto the published gig list. The lads were all blissfully unaware of it until a Facebook conversation cropped up featuring the gig. A few quick phone calls followed and we were up for it (after a bit of dithering from the hairy bass player); very much welcome after a rare 19-day absence from the local gigging scene. The publicity wheels were put into motion, and it was advertised as a Help For Heroes charity gig, but it was all too late for the majority of the usual punters. A few hardy souls braved the cold March weather to hear our efforts but it was nowhere near as full as it should have been. We cracked on regardless, giving it our best shot with only a few fleeting appearances by the Shambolics to report. Colonel Dave was in the crowd and was dragged up to produce his usual Song 2 & Buck Rogers guest vocal spot, destroying Mark's hearing in the process. Plenty of drinking, as per usual, and we dragged it out until about 11.30 or so. The charity bucket looked rather sadly bereft of donations until Paula had a quiet word with the management; this produced the desired result. Half of Lynne's encore demands were satisfied; "She Hates Me" - yes, "Just Looking" - no. I think we could have played anything and she wouldn't have known the difference anyway. Maybe our last mid-week BA appearance for a while; the management's requests for a weekend Hyper stint may get the nod the next time. A return journey to the Bear in Cirencester. Messrs Bray and Andrews were severly jaded from the previous night's exertions but rallied to the call in true Hyper fashion. A small crowd initially but it gradually started filling up and was probably one of our better Ciren audiences by the end of proceedings. A few Shambolics moments - mainly involving Mark, his guitar, case and pedal board - but, on the whole, not a bad show considering what it could have been like. Lil' Devil saw its Hyper debut and went roughly to plan (except for the anticipated dodgy ending). We once again finished with RATM, leaving just a modicum of energy for a couple of encores - Crazy Horses (!) and Rosie. Plenty of mingling afterwards with the happy punters - we'll be back there again. Another stint on home turf, this time supporting a Charity (Snow) Ball. This meant that there was a Christmas and snow theme, with decorations and trees in abundance in the bar area. We got there mid-afternoon to set up and took up most the available floor area (probably greatly annoying the DJ in the process). Three quarters of the Hypers took up the offer of meals instead of payments, leaving Mark and Mel to hang around like spare parts as the meal inevitably over-run. The scheduled 10.15 start eventually drifted into nearly 11.00, meaning that a few songs had to be ruthlessly axed. We'd rehearsed our usual party "classics" mid-week and there was some token dancing to some of our cheesier efforts but the show only really seemed to kick off with Sex On Fire. The floor virtually filled instantaneously and stayed much the same for the last 40 minutes or so. Our decision to close with Killing In The Name seemed to be popular, and showed the punters a version of the Hypers a little more true to form. We finished at around 1am, leaving the DJ to impress everyone with his new kit and witty banter. Del and Matt hit the drink, taking advantage of the fact that they were staying overnight in dodgy Mess accommodation. A long night had by the pair of them. A return to the Cellar Bar - easy parking but lots of stairs. Three quarters of the band arrived more-or-less together to find the other quarter well into his first pint. (The identity of the thirsty quarter will be apparent from the following.) After the usual faffing about setting up, complicated by the question of whether to use the venue's flashing lights or not, we started just after nine. As an experiment the set-list had been rearranged a) to accommodate the reintroduction of some golden oldies and b) because some of the old faithful had started to look bored by the same five numbers to kick off proceedings. Not sure that launching into Song 2 as the third number and bunging Just Looking into the thrash of the second half will ever be cited as exemplars of the art of arranging a set list but people didn't seem to mind too much. It wasn't long before the dance floor was crowded (on this dance floor three was a crowd and that included Derek and the monitor). The throng being joined by an old geezer with 'an harmonica' who insisted on blowing it (or was that sucking) at every opportunity - more often than not in Phil's ear. By the law of averages we must have played a number in the same key as the harmonica but it was pretty tuneless all the same. Harmonica doesn't really blend well with the likes of Enter Sandman and Killing In The Name so it's just as well we drowned him out. Just before the halfway point in the set Phil had to disappear to avail himself of the facilities (the overpowering smell of Dettol worthy of mention) - the early pint taking its toll. A first outing for the Buzzcock's Ever Fallen In Love went down well enough and no doubt it will stick around the ever changing set list for a while - new numbers coming thick and fast this season. The Shambolics stayed away apart from a short appearance at the start of Johnny B Goode, an ill advised encore (since when did bands play what the audience want as encores?). We finished off just before midnight with Whole Lotta Rosie followed by Derek, who had been battling all night with toothache and the bloke with the harmonica, leading the charge for the bar. A sad night, our final ever outing at the Prince of Wales in Shrivenham, or at least with Mike and Jane as the hosts due to their imminent departure for warmer climes. We were in our usual place, tucked away in the corner, and decided to don typical Mike gear (loud shirts, shorts and sandals) to keep in with the spirit of the occasion. We kicked off at 8.30 with our usual favourites and the crowd gradually grew bigger and wilder as the night wore on. Plenty of dancing and raucous support throughout, right until the end at around 11.30, so another monster 3-hour gig. A couple of songs saw the Hyper light of day for the first time - Have A Cigar and Killing In The Name, the latter going down especially well with the punters. Few Shambolics moments of note, though the start of Monkey Wrench left a lot to be desired while Del got distracted by Laura's exhibitionism and got a couple of the Sex On Fire lines the wrong way round. All in all, great fun. Precisely one year after the band last played at this popular Swindon music venue - not quite sure why we keep getting the crappiest dates there but that's another story. Anyway, the first gig of another bright new year and a lack of decent rehearsal time over the Christmas break meant that we had to stick to more or less the set that we had performed a couple of days earlier at the Carter's NYE function (minus some of the cheesy party numbers). The crowd was not too bad considering the time of year, with a few of our regulars in tow to boost the numbers (e.g. Lynne and Emma). No major Shambolics moments to report with the only memorable episode being the mysterious case of the "falling pint of lager" - unfortunately onto Mark's pedal board, which he spent the next couple of weeks sorting out. The crowd seemed more entertained by the major snow shower taking place, most of them dashing out at regular intervals to check it out and get cold/wet in the process. We blasted on until 11.30 by which time everyone had had enough. Maybe we'll be back again - January 2nd 2011 would be a good bet. Great place to play, though. | ||||
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