March 16th
Dear friends, it is with a heavy heart that I take up my touchscreen in this year of our post-Fordism 2020, to share with you the news that tonight, for the first Monday night in ten stimulating years, JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH will be reluctantly but definitely cancelled…the voices of those indefatigable paragons of hot licks and cool grooves Luke “Masque Of The Red Death” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Twelve Monkeys” Thomas (drms) will be temporarily stilled, I won’t be doing anything perceptible on bass, and while the peerless ascended beings of the Bee’s team will still be flaunting their gothic majesty in whatever dimension they are currently manifesting, their ministrations will be unaccompanied by our customary offerings of blues-to-bop-to-latin-to-whatever… acting on the vaporous advisory prevarications of our elected supreme representative as he balances insecurely on his 80-seat majority like a weird haggard toddler on a pile of sofa cushions trying to reach up to the sweetie jar, we have suspended operations in an attempt to thwart the progress of an unseen enemy and assist towards a victory that we hope will not be phyrric…ever inching towards tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, we have been creeping forward at our petty pace, and now Fortuna has stuck a stick in her spokes, and we will be thrown back upon whatever resources we can muster to recreate our forward impetus - what will we keep, what will we discard? .. look to Boethius and Hroswitha, look to the buds upon the hedgerow, listen to the voices of chiff-chaff and wood warbler returning from the scrubland at the edge of town, see venus glaring overhead, feel the quickening in the air, look out for the vulnerable, be excellent to each other, we will return. Bee’s Mouth Western Road not now - the future.
March 9th
Are you at a crossroads? Are you on strike, on zero hours, on lockdown, are you mad as hell and not going to take it any more, are you stepping away from royalty to concentrate on your innate fabulousness, are you warm, are you real, is your figure less than geek, is your mouth a little peak? You need to take a step back, Jack, so let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH provide the necessary lacuna in the unfettered hurly-burly of your bounded earthly existence, and come and join us in our warmly lit heterotopia between the shish kebab shops, cos we’ll have the regular operating Thetans Luke “Dragon Hide” Rattenbury (gtr)and Loz “Corrupted Blood” Thomas (drms) as they weave a web of musical enchantment to set you up for whatever is going to happen next, as the Bee’s team wait, poised and majestic in their gothic splendour behind the well-stocked bar, I do something or other on bass and the pale-faced creatures of the night pass by on the greasy pavements outside… as the last bowel towel warlords fight to the death outside the Co-Op, as the Meth chemists all start cooking up hand sanitiser, as the sweaty staring-eyed hoarders scrabble after facemasks to cover their shame, who will you be spending your pre-lockdown with? Now the sticky buds are thick upon the hedgerow, the black dripping woods are alive with birdsong, Venus is bright in the acme, the earth is turning.. don’t stay home chewing nervously on your guilty Andrex mountain, get out here and join us before COBRA call time on us all, and don’t forget to wash your hands first … who would have thought the old man had so much blood in him?
March 2nd
April may be the cruellest month but March can be a real asshole too, breeding lolcats out of the dead land, mixing Megatron and desire, yeeting dull roots into spring rain, generally harshing everyone’s vibe with its mix of crocuses and death on a pale horse…. if you’re feeling like the sap is finally stirring in the withered bough, but also like you’re just waiting for the next terrible thing to happen, why not cut and run along to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where we’ll be convening our own COBRA meeting with high-level operatives and musical Operating Thetans Luke “Gnosis” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Clear Channel” Thomas (dmrs) as they demonstrate their indifference to mere physical constraints by creating an endless flow of musical good vibrations out of the ether, while I do something or other on bass and the Bee’s Team wait, silent in their gothic majesty, behind the well-stocked bar, to fulfill your darkest most secret joy available within the constraints of the local licencing authority, and who knows what special guests may enter, folding their tarnished wings, from the echoing dark outside … don’t let the crazy oscillations of Fortuna’s wheel give you a whitey, don’t let the wicked witch of Watford haunt your dreams, don’t sink into the virtual Slough of Despond lurking greedily behind your watchful little screeny pal…. see the sun sinking into the sea in a blaze of fading pink n gold, see Venus burning in the acme, see everything aligning in its celestial catchment, don’t click ‘accept’ , click ‘more options’ and come and join us, it’ll be very.