You are currently browsing the monthly archive for July 2001.
Hand crafted, like a fine ale.
[w/ PKD]
The excitement. The album was done and boxed and ready for the public. The previous week had been fraught with nerves when the fonts wouldn’t work or the delivery day got put back again or the sun was in the third house and Simon couldn’t iron his moleskins. We picked this date to give us a deadline, and came everso close to not making it. But make it we did. Even though half of us had RSI from hand-assembling all the cds in Dee and John’s place earlier that week. Yep, every single solitary Brains cd that you see, in d’shops or wherever was put together by the band and Dylan, sitting around a table, drinking Beire d’Speciale from Tescos. Except Lisa, who got off lightly due to a note from her ma.
The gig was great. The stall was set up and the album sold like a load of people were buying it. PKD were great and we played the longest set of our lives, incorporating just about everything we’ve ever written. INCLUDING Clare and Judith joining us for Hungry Ghosts to make it a cool eleven on the stage. That’s more than Leeds usually finish with that.
We finished with Pauline Littlefingers…again before being called back to encore with The Wedding Cake, back after a while on the bench. There was dancing and tears, laughter and Fogarty’s voice calling gruffly from the recesses. He hates that tune. After there was an impromptu party back stage, or so it seemed. Unable to get anywhere to sit, the Cakers meandered off into the night, happy in the notion that eighty people would be dozing off that evening, Brains on the stereo lulling them to sleep, lit fags slipping from dulled fingers onto shagpile carpet.
