Whose shit would you rather eat?

Happy new year to all the readers of this here blog and all the SB fans out there! 
The winter was spent by us all recharging and formulating plans for world domination (still working on that part). One step at a time, first on this year’s list was the Blackpool Bastards Invasion of the Station in Ashton, organised by all round top man Dave Higginson-Tranter (Red Wine Dave or Fungal-punk as you may know him as). Having agreed to play at the Station last year, we had to cancel as Johnny slipped on a greasy chip wrapper outside his work and injured his fingers, we thought it only proper to promise to play this one. A line-up of only Blackpool bands, in Ashton.

The Station, Ashton-Under-Lyne (18.02.17) 

The trip over was super easy and super predictable. Scotty driving, JG in the land of nod, Class listening to the Leeds game and my good self and Kage waxing lyrically about the upcoming F1 season (C’mon anyone but Hamilton). We arrived in great time and upon reconnaissance of the venue we found it to be… intimate, not even enough room to swing a feline… or even to hang a few t-shirts and set up a merch desk. Before we had set off it had been announced on Facebook that the venue had been broken into the night before, with vandals smashing the fruit machines to pieces with axes and making off with the money inside (Scott told us in the car that the place had been ram-raided, I’m still yet to see the car-shaped hole in the wall or he could have just been talking shite). The owner had said the show must go on, the bands showed up, true to our mantra a gig is a gig and we shall play no matter what. 

Having caught up with all the other bands and promoters the stage (what stage?) was set for the first act Black Eddy, who never fail to impress me with their all-round craziness and superb, yet unique brand of goth/grunge strangeness. Big shout to Tom Singleton who absolutely killed the drum kit, excellent work man. Du Pig were next, good at what they do even if it isn’t my bag if I’m honest, still tight and precise and that’s something I look for in a band nowadays. Dischord, I only managed to catch the last half of the set as takeaway chips were calling my name, as always a rightly riotous set, concluded with a stream of beermats being thrown in every direction (how punk rock, no confetti or underwear throwing here, just beer mats). Eye the Bomb (I’m the Bomb as our Scotty calls them) followed, again, very good at what they do even if it isn’t my bag. Very funky with some turn tabling on the go at the same time. Always seems strange to see Our Jupes of CSOD infamy with a tiny six string in his hands as opposed to his huge bass. All nice lads to boot and I think they could go far. 

Next up we have a band who needs no introduction in my blogs, the mighty 'Bastards of Noise' themselves CSOD. They blasted out some newbies such as 'Sea of Rage' and 'For your Blood' from their forthcoming, yet-to-be-titled, album which sounded killer and the oldies packed the punch like nothing else. Just a shame the mic couldn’t go any higher for Ligzig’s vocals but still they went down a storm. Excellent work gents. 

Senton Bombs were headlining this gig and with the marker laid down from the rest of the bands it was time for them to blow the gig apart, and that they did, fast and furious describes this one. Seemed to be over in record time and the audience were buzzing at this point, dancing and jumping about with heaps of beer mats being thrown in every direction (from CSOD and myself aiming for Scotty) Super fun set to end a great night which didn’t offer much hope at the beginning but the best gigs are often the surprise successes. 

In case you were wondering about the unnusual title of the blog, I really should explain. I love Guns and Roses and any offshoot bands the members have been involved in, always have done and always will do. Joey Class on the other hand hates them and never fails to tell me this (weird given how much the SB are compared to them in reviews). The conversation on the way back went a little like this… 

Class: Guns N Roses are Spice Girls for moshers.
Kal: Pipe it you, amazing band. One of my all-time favourites!
Class: You should check out a song, I reckon you will love it, it's called 'If You Wannabe My Lover'.
Kal: Here he is, Joey Bellend makes his entrance. 
Gibbons: I love that band too man, but I wouldn’t pay 100 notes to see them, even if Izzy Stradlin was involved. 
Mason: ...OR STEVEN ADLER!
Class: I wondered how long you could go without mentioning Steven Adler.
Kal: I love that band so much Axl could shit on a plate and I’d buy it.
All: HAHAHAHAHAHA!
Class: Ok then, whose shit would you rather eat... Geri Halliwell’s or Axl Rose’s? 
Kal: What’s that got to do with owt? 
Class: Answer the question. 
Gibbons: To be fair Kal’s right, what has that got to do with anything?
Class: Gun to your head Johnny, whose shit would you eat? 
Gibbons: Neither, each is as bad as the other. 
Class: Gun to your head though.
Gibbons: Ok, the one nearest my right hand, as I’m right handed.
Class: HAHAHA!
Kage: Geri's!

Damo, surprisingly wasn’t passed out pissed at this point, he was just cheer-leading Class. I preferred him when he is passed out as he wasn’t on my side of the argument. The conversation ended soon after with Class having had his moment of comedy bronze. He did acknowledge my honesty in purchasing the 'shit on a plate'. I bet he hasn’t even listened to the Use your Illusion’s, I mean, it's one long-haired ginger, although a talented writer, griping about another long hair ginger whose a talented writer. Maybe they are brothers? Axl Class perhaps... Joey Rose, although I’m sure that was the bass player from Love/Hate back in the day.
  
Bad Ass Bash, Snooty Fox Club, Wakefield (04.03.17)
  
With the next trip upon us to Wakefield for the annual Bad Ass Bash, organised/promoted by Martin Short, I expected it to be a routine successful gig for the SB5, though nothing is ever simple. After a monstrous gym session and a healthy dinner I got a phone call from Road Master Mason explaining the trailer was knackered (like it was ever right in the first place), and that Damo had agreed to step-up and drive two. Most importantly, he would not have a beer… I couldn’t believe what I was hearing to be honest. With Scott and JG being near tee-total and Class sticking to the beer, I only had my lanky f1-loving brethren to get well pissed with and cause a nuisance of ourselves. Now that was out the window, damn it!

Every cloud has the proverbial silver lining and this came in the shape of the sparrow hearted one’s flash car. As in it has loads of room, tricked out stereo, awesome sat-nav, heated seats, tinted windows and many other things he probably doesn’t even know how to work yet. Whereas Johnny would have to put up with the giggle bear himself in his proper shit Ford Focus, where the stereo barely works, the engine makes a strange noise like a hovercraft and it stinks of beer and B.O. So, pretty happy with our new ride me and Class climbed in for the BEST journey ever to a gig, but first some wise words from the Master of Muppets...
Class: Don't be trying to impress us with your driving Damo. No egging each other on to drift and rev, this isn’t F1 and you two aren’t Mansell, so let’s not end up like Senna. 

We laughed at just how we had fallen on our feet with Damo driving us, a fact we knew Scott would realise and probably talked Gibbons to sleep about how much we can make our own way to gigs from now on. Fine by me. Class had made one of his ‘Road Record’ compilation CDs, kindly making me one of all my faves, seeing as it was a few days before my 24th birthday. It was just about, the GREATEST compilation ever made… EVER. Featuring Scorpions, Backyard Babies, Gluecifer, Guns N Roses, Velvet Revolver,  Misfits, Motley Crue among many others. Again just to reaffirm this was the BEST journey to a gig EVER. 

Anyhow, back to the gig. Once arrived we set out for munch in Wakefield, my previous experience told me it wasn’t a really great place to wander about but as the new Snooty Fox Club is in the centre we found it to be pretty damn sweet. After being turned away from two restaurants due to bookings, we found the ideal Italian and soon found ourselves chowing on top notch Steaks, Garlic Bread, Carbonara and Beers, plus two free shots of Sambuca for me, it was my unofficial birthday. 

Filled and content we found the venue and the rest of the band. Gear was loaded with friendly faces everywhere. Just in time to catch the mighty Idol Dead about to go on, technical hitches aside they were great as per with flashy moves and killer riffs aplenty, one of my favourite underground bands to see live. The Bombs nailed it on this night, and I mean nailed it! Sober Damo made up for lack of drinking with excessive amateur dramatics and flashy moves. Bon Jovi himself would even say “Christ almighty those be some moves”. Mega set, which the crowd were feeding off and cheers and applause all round. Some great photos as well, courtesy of your talented twonk of a writer. Merch sales were relatively successful given all the crowd are regulars to the SB sound and have everything already. 

Damo, for the first time in his life was the hero of the night by saving the gig and owning a great car. An album full of cheese was in order on the way home with 'Wind of Change' getting murdered by Class and myself, to the point Damo probably wished he was pissed. We arrived back home safely with the good news that Scotty and JG were nearly home too (although we were secretly hoping the Focus’s head gasket would blow really far from home, honestly with friends like us, who needs enemies?).

This brings me to the conclusion. As usual we are always eager for the next gig and even more eager to tell Scott to scrap his car, take out a big loan in his name and buy himself/us a decent motor. Next up in April we have B-Festival in Bolton on the 16th, the B2 in Norwich on the 21st, then a weekend of festivals over the 29th and 30th with the Dementia Aware Fest in Birmingham and the NLC Fest in Nottingham. Lots to look forwards to. As always we'll be letting the world know, The Senton Bombs are here to kick ass and drink beer... and we're never out of beer!

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