Rash promises: By the time I got to the Post at 3.00pm, I had already received three text messages from singers who had said they were coming, and then didn’t. Would anybody turn up on Easter Sunday Arvo?
It seemed, for a while, quite possibly not, while we took a good 45 minutes to set up the gear. Jeez, a power point nearby wouldn’t be too much to ask, would it. Well, yes it would.
Eventually opened the batting at 4.10, with the Debster chosen as our first singer, Kevin in at first drop. Dave Taylor on double bass, and Alan Richards on drums made for a sweet rhythm section.
Due, quite possibly, to our incompetence in setting up the gear, the sound was remarkably good all afternoon although it got a bit noisy as the place filled up. I do wish that people wouldn’t turn up and have a good time, whilst we are trying to be deadly serious, or otherwise musical. Havin’ a good time? Bah, humbug!
We stopped worrying if anyone would turn up by the time the Captain started worrying about how he would get everyone a turn at the wheel. The Post Hotel was pleasantly full by half time.
In the end we had 16 musos get up and boogie – four bassists and seven singers – with the return of Rose (Route 66), Kevin and, good grief, haven’t seen Brian in a while; Carol, newcomer Edith, and Susie. Will was the lone saxophonist, played as smooth as ever, even filled in on the drums at the close. Nice one.
Props to the Captain -who didn’t play due to a crook arm, but put hours into finding the right venue, and hopefully felt well rewarded; to Edith who admitted after singing that she had never done it before – and made a pretty fair fist of it; to Rose for recommending the venue, and to all the jammers for giving the session the thumbs up.
And a final thanks to POCKOTL, Rod and Bette – they didn’t get there until 7.00, but these are our connection to the original Dizzy’s Jam sessions. Better write an other paragraph before Bette works out how old that makes her.
Oh yes… “Just a bunch of bloody amateurs” was how I described the jammers to the landlord – so he wouldn’t be disappointed – and he wasn’t
See ya next Sunday? TW