My name is Kyle. I am a happily failing indie/punk/folk/country/rock musician from Hampshire, UK. I have been singing and songwriting in The Dawn Chorus since 2005, and The Retrospective Soundtrack Players since 2010. I love these two bands like my brother/wife rolled into one. This blog details the shows I have played with both bands, in chronological order.
*MEGABUNNY FUNTIME TOUR*
Saturday April 4th 2009
Mothers Ruin, Bristol
The Dawn Chorus
The B of the Bang
Onwards to Bristol. We left our good friend Ben's house and went for a wander into town, stopping off at a music shop with an incredible selection of string instruments including an applatian dulcimer. We also stopped at a Fopp, which was very exciting for me since I used to spend about 90% of my income on Fopp back in my Uni days. I got 'Elliott Smith', 'The Host' double DVD and Greil Marcus' 'Invisible Republic' all for £8. Amazing. We then went to a Boulangerie (sp?) for some very tasty baguettes and cake served by some sensationally friendly ladies.
We then wandered to the downs for a game of frisbee, stopping off to bet on the Grand National on the way. At the downs we met the rest of the gang, played a bit of barefoot football and had a little rest, before stopping at a pub for a few ales and to watch the National. My horse was lengths ahead up to half way but then fell, the loser. Jack and Elliott Gregg were the only people to win any money.
Then we split again and half of us tried to go to the Corrie Tap for half an Exhibition Cider (12%!), but it was unfortunately closed so by some bizarre logic we had to go somewhere else for a half. By the time we'd found the venue I think I'd walked about 10 miles since the morning.
Mothers Ruin was a very strange venue, basically the upstairs in a bar, no particular stage or standing area. It wasn't too bad a show, a little quiet but worth doing.
After the show the gang went to Thekla, which is a club on a boat, but me, Neil, Wit and Simone first had to take the Van back to Neil's mate Joe's before getting a Taxi back to Thekla. However, when we got there we stood in the queue for ages before being told that we wouldn't get in. So we got another taxi home with a racist twat who didn't have a clue where he was going. In fact, the only achievement in going to Thekla was to give some money to a tramp whose fingers were - by his own admission - 'discombobulated'. So instead of going out we watched The Wicker Man and went to bed. We later found out that Elliott Gregg may or may not have been date-raped in Thekla - a man gave him a drink of water may or may not have rohypnoled him, then Elliott went missing for half an hour. Only Elliott will ever know, and since he was given a forget-me-do perhaps no-one will ever know.