16 March 2006

Acoustic Shite. TONIGHT. LIVE.


Yes, we at Bomb Factory have made the questionable decision to play an acoustic gig in the town of Cambridge. The venue; a cellar underneath the high-brow food/internet virtual maypole experience called CB2 in Norfolk Street. Y'know, as in the county n'shit.


To make matters worse, Ron is unavailable. He is destroying his liver at a weekend wedding party and making sure the groom is at the church on time and not covered in vomit, piss and shit. This means I have to play bass. I will attempt to mask my lack of ability by prentending to be Melissa Auf Der Maur, D'arcy Wretzky and Peter Hook all rolled into one. Better find me an extra long bass strap, aWonder Woman costume and a minx-like expression to wear then.

Last time we did this, it was THE WORST BOMB FACTORY GIG EVER. I was in the crowd that night and witnessed Jack and Mills spectacularly die on their arses. The people wanted jazz...they didn't approve of a man shouting over some crunchy wooden guitar noise. WE CAN'T LET THIS HAPPEN AGAIN. That's why we locked ourselves away for four hours the other night to iron out cobwebs and blow away erm...the.... creases?. There was much tension and swearing before we finally got our shit together. Will we remember it all though?

Come witness the car crash...


***HEAD INJURY UPDATE>>> The swelling is still impressive and I can't remember anything between January 14, 1982 and March 13, 2006.

Ta,

Drummer boy/ substitute bass guitar hitter.

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