As far as gigs go, you expect Friday nights to be, generally speaking, not as lively as most Saturday nights. So when, last Friday lunch time, I got the call from Sam, the Railway Tavern’s landlord, saying “Bill, where are the posters?” I worried I’d dropped the ball on that evening’s gig.
Well, I'd certainly forgotten the posters so, in effect, I had. If folks don’t know you’re playing, how can you expect them to turn up?
Turns out, I’d underestimated the Fishponds mob. Fishponds is a suburb on the north side of Bristol, half an hour down the motorway from home, and the band has been playing regularly in a few assorted pubs along the main Fishponds Road for more than a decade and a half now.
And we love it down there, the regular faces in the crowd have, over those years, become familiar friends. Fishponds is very much our home from home. Clearly a little thing like forgetting the posters wasn’t going to put folks off. Sam had, obviously, chalked the band’s name up on the board listing the month's entertainment, as per usual. Turns out that was enough.
Last Friday night at the Railway Tavern was an absolute joyous riot of a gig that risks putting many Saturday nights still yet to come to shame by wont of comparison.
I do love Fishponds. I do love the Railway Tavern. And last Friday night, we had fun.