Monday, March 22, 2010

Quay Theatre Sudbury Open Mic


Mr Grymme Harbinger can only recommend the Quay Theatre, Sudbury and its astonishing Open Mic night! What a curious and eclectic soiree awaited the lads on yet another of their spontaneous forays into the eccentric, peculiar corners of music land! Who could have known that Colin, who's laid a few floors in his time, once met skiffle legend Lonnie Donegan reading his fan mail in an MG Magnet outside a newsagents in 1957 and that after a couple of glasses of red would be compelled suddenly and alarmingly to jump and gyrate in the style of The King despite a recent hip op? Who indeed could have predicted the ghostly, ethereal organ grinding of the glamorous, if slightly disconcerting, 'Denise'? Further jiggery-pokery included Dave Vernon channeling Johnny Cash, two impossibly talented young guitarists with more talent than was right or fair and an enthusiastic tribe of ukulele practitioners known as Toots. All in all a splendid evening was had by all as The Grymoire stuck it to the assembled throng re ornithology, Satanism and nude gardening. A great honour was bestowed upon the chaps when no less an august presence than a certain retired and charming lady Mayor of that delightful burgh warmly squeezed Mr Shillaker by the hand and effusively thanked both of them for their sterling efforts! You will no doubt be relieved to know that Mr Grymme Harbinger was finally on hand to whisk the lads back to the familiar confines of the Observatory,a mug of cocoa, a stern lecture on the evils of boastfulness from Mrs O'Flaherty and bed. Some names have been changed. Next time...Jonty pulls it off!

2 comments:

The Bootleg Toot Band said...

The spooky thing is, Alli Toots used to own (and drive on a daily basis I hasten to add) a 1957 MG Magnette. The whole Quay do reminded one of my ukulele colleagues of Tales of the Unexpected. I agree. Enjoyed your music very much indeed!
Alli

johnAKAmark said...

Thanks very much Alli, I know the boys will be thrilled - I'll let them know when they eventually tire of giving Mr Chives the gardener his Spring coat of creosote.