27th Sept
The seafront is now a place fraught with nocturnal peril… eager Freshers, thirsty for the higher knowledge that only disillusioned middle-aged pinko academics can provide, cluster outside Pryzm in a dense miasma of hormones and vodka jellies, Labour delegates storm angrily to and fro, Conspiracy Corbyn challenges Allotment Corbyn to a final deadly dance-off… let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH be your sanctuary from the storm of howling craziness that constitutes the kingdom of Brexitain in the year of the plague, let dandy highwayman Jack Rowan and his team of fearless supernatural crewmates stand by to repel all boarders, let man like Luke ‘E10” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘97+ Octane’ Thomas (drms) demonstrate that when it comes to hot licks and cool grooves there really is Enough Supply To Meet Demand as they build a sonic bulwark against the squares bringdowns and buzzkills, while I muck about hopefully on bass and all sorts of special guests bring their talents to adorn proceedings… let Bozza’s shabby assembly of ghouls, feebs and dinlos practice their surprised faces in the mirror as poor Sir K puffs earnestly along in his sad shiny suit and enraged hoarders shank each other over a Ginsters in ring-road forecourts glaring with wasted light, we’ll be having no truck with any of it, so why not grab your axe down off the shelf and come and join us? It’ll be very.
20th Sept
Hey! Such a busy week! Killing comedy, tearing down historic statues, removing books from universities, dumbing down panto…that stuff can really tire you out, so if you feel more wearied than woke, more distressed than denim, more swollen than engaged then it’s time to get your fine self down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where we’ll be going the full nine metres with man like Luke “Eight Furlong” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “16 Bushels” Thomas (drms) as they pour forth an endless cornucopia of shining musical splendour beyond measure, guaranteed to reinvigorate your chakras, revitalise your frontal lobes, fill your head with glittering orgones and generally pick you back up onto your non-metric feet and get u feeling good like you know that you should… the whey-faced denizens of the night may shuffle past on the reeking pavements outside but inside the peerless interdimensional beings of the Bee’s team will be waiting to pour you healing libations of the finest wines known to humanity, the air will be vibrating with purest osmium, I’ll be doing something or other on bass, a host of special guests may drop by to do their thing as the company will be assembled, smoothing their irridescent feathers with their beaks of brass and shaking their burnished horns and agate claws, so take a break from the bean-splattered unstable mundanity of 21st century Brexit, tear your weary media-saturated gaze away from the latest Whitty/Minaj beef track, let the fruitless search for Ms Minaj’s cousin’s friends engorged particulars continue high and low (mostly low), let jolly Bozza insist that all will be poggers to his gurning cabinet of monstrosities as the gas runs out under his barbie, let low-grade idiocy parade itself all across the public sphere, let life be measured out by the squares in bushels and pecks, fathoms and hundredweights, here in the velvet darkness we’ll be weighing out a goodness that can’t be measured so grab yer axe and come and join us…
13th Sept
As we slide gently into the season of Keats quotations, as the leaves start to show signs of withering upon the branch like SIr Kiers’ charisma, as the nights draw in as quickly and stealthily as Nigel Farage revising his opinion on British Rumanians, as the mighty rivers of Old Albion gush a merry reddish brown with hearty discharges of untreated sewage, how will you fight the inevitable post-summer ennui? JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE”S MOUTH is here right on time to sooth away your pre-equinoctial angst and fill you with courage and resilience thanks to the inexhaustible fountainhead of creativity that spontaneously generates whenever man like Luke “Straight Sets” Rattenbury (gtr) and special guests maestro Nigel “Mystic Law Of The Lotus Sutra” Thomas (bass) and Tristan “T-Bone” Banks (drms) come together like a bunch of hipster arachnids to spin webs of musical enchantment for you to climb inside and there drink deep, healing draughts of bop-to-blues-to-whatever goodness…… the shelves of our beloved supermarkets may be a bit light on seasonal bounty at the mo and small gnats may be mourning in a wailful choir, but we’ll have international special guests flouting the hostile climate to come sit in and do their thing, the Bee’s Team standing by with libations of otherworldly goodness, and all kinds of other desirable outcomes, so come and bask in the good vibrations like the British media basking in the glorious light shining forth from the radiant teeth and gilded racquet of Raducanu,… Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, so grab yer axe down off the shelf and come join us… just believe, just believe.
6th Sept
So here we are under the breathless skies of summer’s end, everything back to the nice new normal…kids back to school in a heatwave, Bojo breaking his last few election promises, Taliban spinning donuts in their new Hummers to celebrate their conquest of Texas…. even crypto is back on the rise, so get to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH quick as you can before the Bitcoin bores get ahold of you, and hold em off by filling your ears up with the hot sweet swinging bop-to-blues-to-whatever sound generated by those paragons of hot licks and cools grooves Luke “Triple Lock” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Ethereum” Thomas (drms) as they tap into the motherlode of musical inspiration that springs eternal and shoot sparks up to the sky, my friends… I’ll be along as per on bass, dandy highwayman Jack Rowan will be supervising the ascended vibrational masters of the Bee’s Team as they stand by to minister to your material wants, and who knows what special multidimensional guests may be dropping in to get their COVID passports stamped* and pour out their lil hearts in music and song … Bolsonaro-level bullshit may continue its fetid purulent spread across our fair irreplaceable Urantia on both micro and macro levels so that brain-fogged crowds may attack vaccine stations and Cheryl Cole may be put in charge of R&B, but Jupiter still burns in the velvet blackness above, along with Elon’s boring ol junk, the fish swarm in the glassy sea, the bees alight upon the ivy, the swallows congregate, chittering, on the obsolete overhead wires, ready to go but not yet, not yet…. show’s not over yet, so grab yer axe down off the shelf and come and join us, rise up, rise up.
*not literally, yet.