Regular readers may have noticed that I have not updated my teetotalism progress for a while. This may have led you to suspect I have fallen foul to the lures of alcohol, and have avoided mentioning it as an attempt to brush my failure under the carpet. On the contrary, oh ye of little faith. In fact the reason I have not been documenting this so much is because I have not really been thinking about it. I find the longer I go without a drink, the easier it is becoming. Over the past few years I have conditioned myself to drink on a Saturday evening, and last Saturday I did feel at a bit of a loss. But having managed to maintain restraint on that first weekend, I think I built sufficient personal confidence that my will is strong enough to succeed. And when alcohol is taken from the equation one is forced to think of more creative ways to spend a Saturday evening. In many ways, the pub just provides a bit of a cop-out from having to think about other ways with which to spend free time. But instead of widening my horizons I went to Derby to watch ace post-punk band The Nightingales (live entertainment being the thing I do for a living) at venue which was technically a pub (pubs being the place I’d usually spend my leisure time). Ok, so not the most wildly out-of-the-box thing to do but at least no-one can accuse me of changing and getting all sanctimonious just because I am sober.
When I got to the venue, a bearded and slightly inebriated fellow started chatting to me it. It transpired that this was the promoter of the show. He asked me where I had travelled from and I told him Wolverhampton. After hearing this, he said I could enter the gig for free. I told him that this wasn’t necessary but he was having none of it, insisting that he was losing so much money on the show it didn’t make any difference because his benefit cheque was due next week (such is the weird but affable logic of the booze-addled mind). It was very generous of him, but I am not quite sure what his reasoning was. The only viable explanation is that it is generally perceived that people from Wolverhampton are so unfortunate they should be treated charitably. We must be considered so wretched, that even unemployment is no barrier for pity.
The Nightingales were as impeccably ace as ever, and this is current incarnation of their revolving-door line-up is the strongest I’ve seen to date. But it was the support act, a New York-based duo called Christy & Emily,who were the biggest revelation. I would strongly advise you to get their album “Superstition”, which is the most fragile, ethereal and beautiful thing I’ve heard in ages. If I have learned anything at all from tonight, it is that you don't always have to be drunk to appreciate good music.
