Monday 25 July 2011


On a few occasions I have been an amateur soundman for local bands. This weekend I turned pro, I was paid (a pittance) to be soundman by "Supersonic" - Plymouth's first all gay Oasis tribute. I was quite nervous, wanted to do a good job, and to look like I knew what I was doing. I introduced myself to the woman who had booked the band - this is unusual in my experience of talking to good looking women in very short skirts - the conversation quickly turned to microphone selection, polar patterns, amplifier power ratings and impedance. It turned out that not only had she got a huge amount of experience in sound engineering, she'd got a degree to prove it. An honest to goodness bachelors of engineering in the very subject in which I was busy pretending that I knew what I was doing. As if that wasn't bad enough I also had to do sound for her support act which included an acoustic guitar with a very low quality pickup, a fiddle, and a young woman with a pretty but quiet voice. I basically had the choice between mains hum, feedback through the fiddle, and feedback through the vocal mic. I did OK for the main band though.

I though it was going to be great getting paid for being in the pub on a Friday night, in fact I was no richer on Saturday morning, and I felt thoroughly unwell.

My dog's got no nose. How does it smell? It uses a sniffer dog.
My wife didn't believe I could make a car out of spaghetti, you should have seen her face when I was driving pasta.

Richard "going on a summer holiday" B