shewhomust: (guitars)
Pete Atkin was in Middlesbrough last night for the gig deferred from September. He had had to cancel because he had covid, about which he seemed more aggrieved than anything else: I went all through lockdown unscathed, and now... Well, yes: that's how lockdown was supposed to work.

We had been at his previous gig, and there were things last night I thought were different, but looking at what I wrote last time, I see I am misremembering: a handful of unfamiliar songs, a selection of classics, lots of talk, all as before. There's a curious flavour to talking about how the songs were written when it involves telling the story behind a lyric that somebody else wrote, but Pete carried it off with generosity; he said, repeatedly, that he had been lucky to meet Clive James and work with him, but I think Clive was lucky, too. I'd have been interested to hear more about the process of bringing together words and music - but perhaps that would be too technical for a relaxed evening performance.

I wondered whether Pete was talking a lot to spare his singing voice: appatently not, then. And, as last time, I thought his voice was if anything stronger as we neared the end of the evening. A very powerful closer with Thirty Year Man leading straight into - what else? - Master of the Revels. Once again, though, the audience demanded more, and this time we got a very sweet Together at Last.
shewhomust: (Default)
The lazy days of summer appear to be over, and we are suddenly busy once more: with work, with play and - annoyingly - with things not working. This is the executive summary (as we old folks used to call the tl;dr versuin):

  • We revisited coarse, the restaurant where we enjoyed a joint birthday meal back in the spring. We wanted to take A. and D. out to lunch in Durham, and the options (once you have decided on eating out, rather than cleaning the house enough to invite people here) are few, and fewer than they were, Finbarrs having closed. We weren't sure coarse was a good choice for a relaxed, talkative lunch: would the demands of the tasting menu tend to upstage the social side of the meal? In fact it worked very well. A.'s thankyou may have been just a touch backhanded: the waiting staff gave lengthy explanations, but were softly spoken and on her deaf side, "so lots of tastes came as a great surprise to me as well as a delight." D., who is the serious cook of the household, was taking notes. The menu is seasonal, and I'm not sure I'd want to do it more than once a season. But I'd certainly be happy to see what they serve in winter.


  • Our ISP has been transferring things to a new server. No doubt this was a good and useful thing to do, but it keeps knocking out our websites, and our e-mail. When [personal profile] durham_rambler logs a complaint, they reply that things are working as designed: the reason you can't find your e-mail on this server is that we have moved it to that server. You just have to change your settings. Oh, right. Thanks. Meanwhile, at least one high-profile client has tweeted to her followers that You'll find my forthcoming UK tour dates on my website... So here's hoping normal service resumes asap.


  • There's also family stuff which I'm trying to arrange but which I don't feel like talking about just now...


  • Went to a gig in Middlesbrough last night. The venue, Toft House, was new to us: it describes itself as "the home of unpopular music" which makes it a perfect setting for Pete Atkin, who titles his website "Smash Flops" (and who I have heard recommending that his records be filed under "uneasy listening"). It was the first time in years we've seen him live, and I wasn't sure what to expect, but it turned out to be 'an evening without Clive James'. That's not just because it was all about the songs they wrote together, which are surely the best work Clive James ever did, but but also because Pete talked a lot about Clive, and their process of writing songs together. There were one or two songs I didn't recognise, but mostly they were old friends, and it was a pleasure to hear them. One or two stumbles, but mostly an excellent performance, which seemed to gain in power in the second half. A chilling, dramatic I see the joker, and one last delightful surprise. Apparently taken by surprise by the demand for an encore, Pete hesitated about what to sing: he seemed to be leaning towards Laughing Boy, which is fine by me, when a voice from behind me demanded Master of the Revels - perfect choice, perfectly delivered.


  • This afternoon was scheduled for a neighbourhood tea party, rained off from the Coronation weekend. After days of blazing heat and sunshine, at three o' clock, as the party was supposed to start, the sky darkened. Was that thunder I heard? It was indeed. Within half an hour the WhatsApp group had swung into action, and we relocated the number 17. I am not a sociable person, and hadn't been looking forward to the event, but it was fun - I chatted to someone who had holidayed in Orkney at the end of May, and been taken by surprise in so many ways...

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