Exeter, Cavern, 13th January 2010.

We awoke in Falmouth relatively well rested.

They're smiling because they feels safe.

From looking on the news and the internet we were under the impression that Cornwall would resemble the planet Hoth and that travel would be only possible with a husky power snow-walker. However, like all good researchers, we decided to consult multiple sources. One of these sources we utilized was looking out the window which revealed Cornwall to in fact be warm, sunny and wholeheartedly pleasant. The drive to Exeter was like driving through a series of promotional tourist pamphlets about the Canadian seaside and passed largely without incident.

Alive with the glory of Cornwall

We drove back to Exeter early to try and get into our old practice room, lovingly dubbed ‘The Bunker’ and work on some new tunes (yea we do actually write songs as well as not practice the old ones). We went and got some food from the lovely wetherspoons and then attempted to gain access to the practice room. However due to a logistical nightmare we could not track down any keys. We eventually gave up and attempted to locate somewhere to wash our filthy bodies and change our filthy clothes. Myself, Will and Ed found ourselves in the University union building going for a cheeky covert shower in their changing rooms. Unfortunately there was only two showers so, being the gracious and selfless gent that I am, I let the other two go first. It is quite a surreal experience to be looking at two shower doors and listening to the two occupants of said showers give blow by blow accounts of how gross there bodies are. I won’t quote because some of you may have eaten; suffice to say I now know where both guitar players in Wilson Fisk have problems with dry skin. Ladies.

Now as some of you may be aware the Cavern is the best venue in the country, bar none. I was fortunate to work there for just under a year so it was great to be able to go see some old friends. One of said friends was the bar manager Tom who plays in the cracking Ok Pilot (myspace.com/okpilot). Tom is a legend and fed us up on the greatest of pre-show meals, cheese and chips. We were playing as part of the legendary Lofi Hifi club night which I used to run with my housemates from my last year at uni. One of these former house mates, the unstoppable DJ DangerWNK, came down to hang out, DJ and regale us with stories of how his DJ name is now more appropriate than ever through no fault of his own. Well, perhaps being so god damn handsome that men decided to masturbate next to him in train station toilets could be his fault but….i’ve said too much.

DNGRWNK (on the right) telling a tale. Primo.

The show was ace. We rocked hard, clearly buoyed to be back playing the venue that pretty much gave birth to us as a band. I even got to live out a mini-fantasy at the end of our show where I got to pass my bass to Matt and got to leap over the barrier and lollop about in the crowd like an excitably fawn.

Look at me go. I'm like a chubby Steven Tyler. On his day off.

Tall Ships then proceeded to make several new friends by playing an absolute blinder even though at one point everything stopped for no reason and we were treated to the now customary Tall Ships crisis alarm of ‘Oh nooooooooooooooo’

After the show we proceeded to dance and make merry with many old friends. It was fabulous. After the club night and Ed nearly being forcibly removed by the bouncer for inquiring as to who was grabbing him we proceeded to go get some food. While we were purchasing a selection of wholesome food items shop two of the local ‘rah’ population (painfully posh student-types) were passed out in the shop, clearly having indulged in far too much ‘lash’ and ‘banter’. After being forcibly removed by the shop owners one of these lads decided to take exception to Will’s jeggings (leggings that look like jeans for the uninitiated) and got rather mouthy. We of course put him down swiftly with our unrivalled linguistic gymnastics and left this chino sporting tool to lick his wounds. Unfortunately due to all these wounds being emotional we left him attempting to lick his own mind, with mixed results.

We then proceeded back to our good friend Jo’s house and the sleeping ritual began again. Will climbed into a sleeping bag and fell onto the floor to spend the rest of the night in relative discomfort despite their being a perfectly comfortable and available sofa in the next room. Me and Ed were lucky enough to have a bed to ourselves so the race was on to see who could fall asleep first. I lost. My sleepless night was soundtracked by the sounds of a chainsaw wielding maniac decimating a branch of Clarks.

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