Big Peter Goes To The Pub…
Depending on your character, Sunday nights will either be: (a) quiet, as you have work the following day; (b) frenzied, as you have work the following day; or (c) otherwise unmentionable. Unfortunately, recognising that my wallet was not as charitable as my liver, I was of Type A. However, a few drinks didn’t hurt as I caught an open mic night at the Butterfly & Pig.
First on was Baby Taylor, an undeniably cute little lady who played the guitar. More than that, Ms Taylor also boasted a voice that, however fragile, rendered all the tough guys in the room into an inwardly emotive state. It was only a matter of time until the first tear would be shed in appreciation. Unfortunately for those in attendance, this wasn’t Ms Taylor’s only gig of the evening, so their tears will have to wait until next time. Being both capable of writing a summery tune and, on this evidence, incapable of writing an angry song without coming across as adorable, Baby Taylor is a name that people should look out for. You can thank me later.
A Trespassing Scot - the patriotic alias of David Maxwell - came next. Boasting a huge voice that was every bit as traditional Jock as his agrarian attire, ATS (if we can abbreviate so) threw down a set of loud, proud Celtic-tinged songs that shook every drink in the basement. It’s fair to say that there’s not many out there like ATS. Bold, unafraid, and impossible to ignore, this performance will have won over anyone quite a few. I’d doff my cap if it were possible. Extra credit should be given for his donating his seat to his beer.
Next up was a lad under the guise of Average Andy. Armed with a repertoire of catchy songs and a self-deprecating sense of humour, Andy seemed to have enjoyed himself onstage and enjoyed a decent rapport with the audience - the listening members, anyway. Newly established as a singer-songwriter, you can safely expect to see his name more often. Andy also seated his beer.
Rather unexpectedly, we received a set of covers by Joey McAlpine. Normally a covers act wouldn’t merit words, but through some Rolling Stones and Jerry Lee Lewis he did manage to activate the previously uncommunicative members of the audience.
So, a good evening then. Everyone can leave with their heads held high and go home in preparation for another Monday. Goodbye, everybody. So long. Vaya con Dios, etc, etc.