Day 5: Steeling ourselves for Sheffield
27th February 2012
Steph: Last night was a party night and a good one at that. We had Andy back, rooms above the venue and plenty o white wine. Apparently I told certain members of Tunabunny that our nickname for Bob is chicken and i have a fondness for feet….but it was Mike who told me this and that man and the truth are casual dancing partners at best so i have reservations about the veracity of his claims. Also, it was not me singing M people…definitely not….definitely not just me…it wasn’t me who started it. On the winding, hilly drive to Sheffield, no more heady, dizzying white wine i promise myself. Just sensible beer…..a bit of ballast….you won’t get really drunk but you won’t be sick and lie to people either.
Helen: search for the hero inside yourself
Bob: When in Rome, do what the Romans do, right? So we head off to Preston Bus Station in the morning. It’s an impressive brutalist structure, not quite listed, which means it’s threatened with demolition. Shame on you trigger happy developers of Lancashire! Still, Russell looks happy:
But inside, like all places of religious pilgrimage, the mood becomes more solemn and reflective:
We last played in Sheffield on a Tuesday evening during our 2010 UK tour. It was not very busy, so our hopes were not too high for a Monday night in the same town. Thankfully the live room is teeny so we only need the presence of a handful of Yorkshire girls and boys to get an atmosphere going. And get going it does. The stage is so hilariously cramped that movement is constrained to gentle vertical bobbing.
Helen: In the morning Scott and Mike come into the Shrag room where I am continuing to be a loser and not visit the bus station with the rest of Shrag (I choose instead to go online and demand attention from friends back home). The two of them tell me that because I didn’t join in the partying last night it is my turn to be picked on. Apparently they destroyed Bob last night, mostly because Bob had said that a wasp was an animal and they told him it wasn’t. I sided with our guitarist and told them a wasp WAS an animal, but both Scott and Mike are annoyingly erudite and confident and shouted me down with emphatic talk of vertebrae and fur…I let them have their point as it seemed very important to them, but told them that in fact I would destroy THEM before the tour was out, and that they hadn’t yet realised the full extent of my powers (later in the tour, I was able to prove that a wasp IS in fact an animal via the aid of a mental diagram delineating the many branches of the Tree of Life. Both Scott and Mike had no choice but to concede that I was right).
Sheffield is a tonne of fun. We get to play on a miniature stage, dance to Tunabunny (who are just getting more and more mesmeric) and hang out with our friends Dorian and Jack afterwards: Steph and I delight everyone around us with our imitations of their hilarious northern accents. Scott and Mary Jane continue to be paradigms of patience, stoicism, and good-naturedness with all the driving they have to do. Scott even enjoyed the impromptu tour of Sheffield Dorian took us on as he attempted to navigate us from the venue to the hotel we were staying in, sort of.