they [might] pop back in a few bars down the road, but I wouldn’t bet on it

And back again to Walker for more Maisosity.

Afterwards home and then to the jam at the Three Stags. As usual for a Monday. There’s nothing quite like routine to … to … to do the things that routine does. In that unique… way that routine …

Oh, forget it.

Anyway, the jam’s nice, if late-starting and a trifle raucous to begin with. I keep getting terrible booming noises (possibly the bass feeding into the mic on the piano), and it takes a while to find a sound that isn’t horrible. The ringer doesn’t turn up tonight so I have the gig to myself. I sort of prefer it that way.

A good job I taught myself Chameleon last weekend, because it comes up tonight.

Perhaps we could have done without the uninvited guest guitar, but having been an uninvited guest guitar myself am not really in a position to ask him to stop.

Simultaneously with it being loud volume-wise, it’s quiet people-wise, possibly as a result of the end of term at Morley around the corner.

Lots of songs, tonight, and I manage to follow almost all of them. And the nice young fellow with the (possibly French) accent gets to experience the infamous irregular key signatures that Albert inserts into his songs.

(It’s an informal rule for me that if a performer jumps around the song I follow them, because they never realise their mistake. One might stick to the tune as written and hope they pop back in a few bars down the road, but I wouldn’t bet on it. Usually they don’t realise what’s happened. Actually, there was another classic example later on in the evening, but it was on a song that I do so a detailed autopsy of the rendition would drift uncomfortably close to bitchiness and we wouldn’t want that would we? Lordy no.)

The highpoint of the evening for me is a young asian fellow (Chinese, possibly) who plays a jazzed-up version of Santa Claus is Coming to Town.

We stay a bit later than perhaps we ought. That is to say until the landlady insists that we leave (and being two doors down from the police station she has very little leeway). But it was fun. Next week it’s back to the Turtle with Auntie Joan, though.