skankdelvar

Thing is, the plight of the Rest of the World is vanishingly unimportant to me and - in truth - most people if they were honest with themselves. Frankly, the Rest of the World can sort its plight out for itself. I mean, you don't see the oppressed indigenous people of the Amazon working themselves into a lather over 'austerity' in the UK and a good thing too. As Pangloss remarked: 'il faut cultiver notre jardin'.

I assume that 'au moins les chats et les chiens sont nourris' is a French expression which means something. Were my old chum the Viscomte de Malsain-les-Odeurs-Subterrannées du Brebingotte Nonsanfichtre still with us I'd send him round to your house and you could have a nice chat about les chiens and les chats. As for Mrs Aung San Suu Kyi: at a time when it was neither profitable nor popular I laid before BassChat the matter of her father Aung San (the father of Myanmar), he it was who despite before the war being a Communist then reversed direction during the Japanese occupation, raised an 'anti-British' Burmese militia, served as Burma's 'puppet' war minister and was honoured by Hirohito before once more turning turning his coat and coming over to our side. Some might consider Aung San to have been a thoroughly bad hat and that this might justify the actions of certain individual British soldiers who may have supplied the weapons used to whack him and six of his cabinet in July 1947. I couldn't possibly say. My rehearsal some years ago of Mr Aung San's chequered past ran headlong into a wave of tearful sympathy for his daughter's then predicament, i.e. banged up by the military government, which condition being the object of widespread lamentation among celebrity rock activists (rocktivists). I often wonder how Bono feels, having helped to spring someone who is now a party to the Rohingya genocide? It would be ripping if someone were to ask him, preferably during the bit where he does the maudlin hand-clapping thing (if that's still part of his act).

I so much agree with this observation that I wish I could lay claim to its genesis. In the fullness of time, perhaps I will. Moreover, I would contend that the pasteurisation of rock music has been one of a number of factors which have contributed to its decline in popularity. Let us consider the two most currently dominant genres: rap (in all its forms) and pop R&B. Are the pre-eminent practitioners of these styles "over the top, flamboyant, tastelessly rich and contentious"? Why, yes, indeedy. These people are - to coin a phrase - absolutely fabulous. They exude excess, reek of sex and they are coining it in. Contrast the rappers and the pop-stars with their po-faced, middle-class pygmy cousins in Rock, weeping their bitter tears of empathy, flaunting their jejune isshoos and their terribly-worthy-but-oh-so-dull causes. In particular the British end of Rock reminds one of the sort of vicarage tea-parties one attended in one's youth where disapproving drabsters sat around in a circle, sporting faces like a cat's bottom and droning on about the fragmentation of society and how simply awful everything is and patting themselves on the back about knitting socks for the poor black babies in Africa. Of course, Metal's different but then it always is and always has been. Thankfully there exists still in Metal a spark of free-booting rebellion and roaring non-conformity. Metal fans are rather like Millwall supporters, I suppose; everyone hates them but they don't care. I digress. What it really comes down to is that by embracing the mimsy-ish, pursed-lipped sort of attitudes that would have met with the nodding approval of my Great Grandmother the rockers of today have utterly p1ssed on their own chips. At some point in the 1990's Rock (and its audience) turned its nose up at strong liquor, recreational narcotics, indiscriminate fornication and public urination; perhaps it's what genres do when they enter middle age. Rock entered a spiritual winter from which it is yet to emerge; as Mr David Coverdale once remarked: 'Dark days for a cocksman; dark days indeed'. With fun out of the window, Rock needed to find another driver; sadly, it alighted upon 'hope'. Brandishing a rag-bag of causes such as sub-Saharan drought, gender oppression and that awful woman in Burma who turned out to be a wrong 'un (told ya) the prosing rock bores and their ghastly celebrity chums ultimately laid the foundations for the anodyne little squirts who currently prance around rock, tearfully unburdening themselves of matters of conscience while studiously avoiding giving offence or frightening the horses. Commercially, around about 1996 rock cut off its own balls and it's been on the slide ever since, and no wonder. For while today's young people may very audibly bang on about their 21st century snowflake concerns I suspect that behind their masks of passive conformity they secretly yearn to lay beside a sun-drenched pool, counting their millions while an exotically tattoo'd midget shovels the purest cocaine up their surgically enlarged nostrils, this even as a giggling bevy of naked beauties of the opposite (or same) sex disport themselves in the jacuzzi, every one of them off their shining, youthful little faces on Kristal and ketamine, and frankly gagging for it. And that's why Rap and R&B sell and Rock doesn't. Rock doesn't seem to realise there's no money in being a boring prude. So f**k Rock; Gene Simmons can try to keep the fire alive but the faux-rockers have taken over. There are filthier, more sporting musical genres out there if one knows where to look. I leave the last word to Mr Richard (Little Richard) Penniman. In his autobiography he describes a post-gig dressing-room encounter with Mr Buddy Holly. Does Little Richard expiate upon Mr Holly's social views or his politics or his privilege? Not at all. For while Mr Holly engages in athletic coition with a proto-groupie upon the dressing-room couch Mr Penniman observes that Buddy has 'the biggest c0ck I ever saw on a white boy'. That, my dears, is Rock (and Roll).

I concede your point.

... and strangely enough the date format's fine for me too. Surely there's something profoundly weird (if fairly trivial) going on if I can see a UK date format in this thread but a US date format in another? Moreover, notice the difference between Douglas's screengrab and mine? No? Douglas's shows Pete's post time as 17:32. Mine shows it as 16:32. (wanders off whistling the theme to The Twilight Zone)

Hah! Yes - it's the monstrous US format.

𝕮𝖆𝖓'𝖙 𝖘𝖆𝖞 𝕴'𝖛𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖈𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝖉𝖎𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊...

As a sidebar: the top-mounted control panels on Voxes and old-style Fender amps are labelled in such a way as to be viewed from behind the amp, the idea being that in the old days one placed them at the front of the stage and stood behind them. Plug in a mic and your 'backline' AC30 becomes your FOH. Which is kind of the reverse of what the OP's bandleader is doing with the PA.

Thanks for the review, chief. On your recommendation I'll be checking out The Second Sons.

For me, it's DAW >Plug-ins every time. Dry signal at low-ish volume (maybe -14db) while tracking to minimise latency then load a chain of VST's onto the recorded track. A good starter chain might be: Sonalksis Free-G as a trim to optimise the incoming signal level for your chain Klanghelm MJUC jr compressor or a VoS Ferric TDS to smooth out any humps and bumps while adding some punch Helian 2nd Bass (amp sim) - very versatile for an easy to use plug-in Room Machine 844 to add a touch of room noise and life (Optional but not essential) Sonimus SonEQ - old school three knob equalizer Another Sonalksis Free-G as a trim to optimise the outgoing signal level for your mix. All the above are easy to use, relatively low CPU usage, sound nice and are freeware (the Sonimus requests an email address but they've never subsequently contacted me).

... and a splendid anecdote too, with all the trimmings. That you can recall the configuration of the PA you sold him 39 years ago is testament to the capacious nature of your hippocampus. I'm partial to a bit of French-style accordion, myself, but the prospect of hearing one at full beans through an over-driven PA is frankly insupportable.

I suppose what I'm trying to say is the OP's bandleader probably picked up his PA skills from that Dan(n)y Desaunay. I've got his single, y'know; very relaxing. Not at all like the live shows.

Well, there's your problem straight away.

Dodged a mismatch one time. Very loud Blues Rock band and the drummer chirpily announces he's got us a gig at a 'supper club' after the dancers and before the comedian. Talked him out of it, thank God.

Is there? I've not seen many cowboys on the bus round here but then I don't get out much as I used to In Wisconsin people out for the evening dress up as English pub-goers (burberry caps, shell suits, Man U shirts, that sort of thing) and drive round 4-up in Mini Metros* singing 'Vindaloo'. Fact. *Dangling modifier noted

Just as well you're there to put them straight about how evil we are

Actually not a bad one for a gender swap. Spoilered it to save space.

I'd do it. Accessible set-list, coherent image, gigs into December including the fabled State Fair but only 3 or 4 a month which would be a bit light for me if I was going all the way to Wisconsin. I like the idea of a relatively easy haul - digital rig, no amps, IED monitoring. Pitch to bookers seems nice and simple: 'Cowboy Up's goal is to provide quality entertainment at an affordable price! Cowboy Up owns their own sound and light gear. This allows us to keep the cost down as we do not have to rent this equipment for each show. Cowboy Up also books their own shows so you save on booking agency fees! CLICK HERE to book now!' They seem like regular guys which is good. Shovel thing's neither here nor there as long as it's a one song gimmick. Guitar player on the bar isn't a problem - getting out amidst the punters is the whole point of wireless, isn't it? (Edit for: Iffy live promo video with some slightly wobbly vocals). Against me? No upright skills and I can only sing bass HV's.

Yes, but we're evil now. All the way through, like a stick of rock with the word evil instead of Blackpool.

The Daily Mail has an overwhelmingly older age profile; the print readership totals 2.2m over-55's - about 75% of all readers. On the other hand, 88% of over-55's do not read the Daily Mail - that's nearly 16m people. (Source: ONS / ABC)

Guitarist: "Anyway, it's a 12-bar shuffle in A with an 8-note ending that goes spam scam scum dum, dum de dum dum".

Mr WC Fields once observed: 'Never give a sucker an even break'. How true

I admit that the torments enacted upon the early martyrs demonstrated a savage ingenuity lost to our times. 11,000 Anglican churchmen signing a threatening round robin is pretty mild stuff, really.

You're entirely welcome. In 1659 Aubrey was instrumental in refurbishing the parish church of All Saints, Broad Chalke; a later vicar of that church was the Reverend Rowland Williams who in the 1860's was convicted by an ecclesiastical court for the crime of heresy, his offence being to deny 'the predictive character of Old Testament prophecies' - pretty strong stuff, you'd agree. Though Williams' conviction was overturned on appeal the decision was unpopular; 11,000 furious churchmen signed a declaration in favour of 'biblical inspiration and eternal torments' which I suppose was their way of saying that if they ever ran into Williams they'd lure him to a deserted warehouse and shoot him in the face. It's all go around here, y'know.