Unsigned, Peeled, Bequivered. A Small Story Of A Local Band: Part 2.

The timing of The Drummer’s sacking and the recruitment of Moggy was what might be understatedly described as poor.  Ordinary at best.   We’d been working towards a date at the end of Hull university’s academic year when they had a festival planned.  Demos were being taken in by the organisers in order to establish…

Dave: A Prayer. Or, The Tragedy Of (Steven) King Fear.

  This post is about the best friend I ever had.  That and fear.  We’re not mates anymore because he doesn’t want to know and I don’t really blame him.  It’s also about the usual sorts of things I write about: being confused; being stupid; not knowing how to put things right; not knowing how…