on the train north from Euston
Much to my relief I’ve got a train seat with a power socket this morning. If Maslow’s hierarchy of needs now includes Wi-fi, then for iPhone users it also includes a phone charger and an available source of power. I’ve been on trains more than usual this week: after a trip to libraries in Dundee and Aberdeen I wrote this and now I’m on my way home after a couple of gigs in London and Brighton with Alasdair Roberts & Olivia Chaney.

It’s good to have experience of contrasting venues. Kings Place is shiny, new, expensive, and during its festival of 104 events in three days, full of metropolitan activity. When our rehearsal room didn’t have a piano in it as expected, we asked for one, expecting whatever digital keyboard or beaten-up upright was to hand, and within about 10 minutes five guys appeared pushing a very new Steinway D. There clearly are a few of them lying around down there. During Olivia’s set, I was sitting round the back (it was sold out so I couldn’t get in) when I heard her call my name from the stage. Oh, OK, wonder what she wants – it wasn’t till I’d sheepishly stepped out from the wings that I realised that she was about to sing There’s Not A Swain and wanted me to play piano, on another Steinway D. Which would have been fine if I hadn’t left my part behind in the dressing room (her version isn’t simple), so I sat down and tried to look confident and assured while playing all the wrong notes. At least I’d changed out of my filthy jeans.

Then it was a quick dash from Hall Two to Hall One for Alasdair’s soundcheck. Although I’d specifically requested not to play a Steinway D, and the official schedule even said ‘upright piano preferred’ the stage manager couldn’t quite bring himself to remove their pride and joy until I’d tried it out. It was a nice piano right enough, but not really what we needed. So I sent it away like a temperamental artist, and they brought along the Steinway upright from backstage instead, which was a few cents sharp, but nobody noticed that except Alasdair.  All fine …

Yesterday I got to play with my London nieces before heading out to Resonance FM where we were playing live on the Ambrosia Rasputin show. In fact I’ve just looked at the website and realised that it gets a repeat tonight at 4am, and it’s here to download. It was great to be part of Ambrosia’s ‘shambolics’ and make up the set as we went along, including a song that we sort-of rehearsed in the carpark just beforehand. You probably can't hear any of my conversation as I was leaning into one of the piano mics.

Then a quick dash back to Kings Place to pick up our unsold CDs from the merch table which had shut by the time we left the previous night, and on to Brighton and the Green Door Store, an old stable in a railway goods yard. Alasdair had arranged to hire a Roland stage piano, which did the job really well once I’d stopped being sniffy about it and had an hour’s proper sleep on Noel the promoter’s floor. Any worries that what we were doing was completely out of place in a venue more used to hardcore bands disappeared once we got going: special thanks to whoever shouted 'do 12 more!' when we came on for an encore. It’s just a shame I didn’t have more time in Brighton – a quick walk to the front to see the pier all lit up was all I could manage – as it did look great in the sunshine at 7.20 this morning. But now I think I might use some of this train journey to start listening to the Purcell sessions from April.