Demon - The Gardener's Retreat 29th June 2000
All right, come on, hands up if you've missed me? Oi! You lot at the back, get those hands up…
Well, it is almost a whole month since my last review, I'm sure you're getting a bit tetchy by now. So, to quell the pangs of desperation brought on by the absence of my cyber-scribblings, a further, small, but perfectly formed, instalment in the (seemingly) never-ending saga of my Demon-stalking odyssey. (Good grief, that makes me sound like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but that is a story best left for another time.)
Anyhoo, what can I say about the Gardener's Retreat? Not so much a gig, more a rehearsal in front of some local people. A chance to scrape off the rust of hours of inactivity. A chance for Ray to eat his entire body-weight in poppadums. A chance for Andy to stretch his vocal chords. A chance for John to paradiddle and for Duncan to run a few arpeggios. A chance for both Dave and Steve to fall over Andy - several times apiece! A chance for the Father of Time, well, to be The Father of Time, what else?
A Big Chance to get ready for the Robin on Wednesday and Wacken this weekend. (Oh, come on, you knew that was coming!) This one was for fun. It was relaxed, it was packed to the rafters and it was bloody hot.
But what about the band? What about the music? Oh Hell, you already know the answer to that one. As I've said before, this lot has twenty years of my expectations to live up to and each time I see them, they have to be better than before. If they aren't, I'll tell them so and I won't be too subtle about it. I'm not widely known for my skills in the tact and diplomacy department. What's more, I'll tell you. So, I'm going to tell you now.
I don't think this band can play badly. I certainly haven't witnessed it yet. And no, they aren't paying me to say that.
If you want to see one of the best bands on this planet, or any other you may know of, get your ass to The Robin, in Bilston on Wednesday or Wacken, Germany this weekend, and treat your eardrums to a night of aural ecstasy. Tell your friends, your neighbours, your parents and even your granny. But, whatever you do, come on down!
See you at The Robin. (And I'm not apologising for the constant references to Big Chance, so there! I'll wear you down yet, Dave.)
Mark L. Potts
The God of Thunder
30th June 2000
Well, it is almost a whole month since my last review, I'm sure you're getting a bit tetchy by now. So, to quell the pangs of desperation brought on by the absence of my cyber-scribblings, a further, small, but perfectly formed, instalment in the (seemingly) never-ending saga of my Demon-stalking odyssey. (Good grief, that makes me sound like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but that is a story best left for another time.)
Anyhoo, what can I say about the Gardener's Retreat? Not so much a gig, more a rehearsal in front of some local people. A chance to scrape off the rust of hours of inactivity. A chance for Ray to eat his entire body-weight in poppadums. A chance for Andy to stretch his vocal chords. A chance for John to paradiddle and for Duncan to run a few arpeggios. A chance for both Dave and Steve to fall over Andy - several times apiece! A chance for the Father of Time, well, to be The Father of Time, what else?
A Big Chance to get ready for the Robin on Wednesday and Wacken this weekend. (Oh, come on, you knew that was coming!) This one was for fun. It was relaxed, it was packed to the rafters and it was bloody hot.
But what about the band? What about the music? Oh Hell, you already know the answer to that one. As I've said before, this lot has twenty years of my expectations to live up to and each time I see them, they have to be better than before. If they aren't, I'll tell them so and I won't be too subtle about it. I'm not widely known for my skills in the tact and diplomacy department. What's more, I'll tell you. So, I'm going to tell you now.
I don't think this band can play badly. I certainly haven't witnessed it yet. And no, they aren't paying me to say that.
If you want to see one of the best bands on this planet, or any other you may know of, get your ass to The Robin, in Bilston on Wednesday or Wacken, Germany this weekend, and treat your eardrums to a night of aural ecstasy. Tell your friends, your neighbours, your parents and even your granny. But, whatever you do, come on down!
See you at The Robin. (And I'm not apologising for the constant references to Big Chance, so there! I'll wear you down yet, Dave.)
Mark L. Potts
The God of Thunder
30th June 2000
