At the risk of stating the obvious, this blogging lark is a rather narcissistic endeavour at the best of times, and this is going to prove no exception. My intention in this enterprise is to tell the story of my life, or at least the part of it which has involved going to gigs and playing in bands. Clearly, I'd have to be some sort of monumental ego-twat to assume that this is the kind of thing anyone is likely to want to spend their precious time on this planet reading. So what's the ruddy point? Well, I guess it's significant that it's now been twenty years since my first proper gig, while I've also been influenced by a bunch of autobiographies and music books I've recently read or re-read, not least Ian Glasper's 'Trapped In A Scene' and John Peel's (and Pig's) fantastic 'Margrave Of The Marshes'. Additionally, I think I've had some experiences which might prove entertaining to recount, and want to get them down in some form before my already-shaky memory deletes them.
On that subject: I'm going to assume that if you've made it even this far, you probably know me, and if you've been to a gig with me or been in a band with me, there seems to be a pretty good chance that you'll either get a mention or at least come across events which you were involved in. I'll do my best to avoid being libellous (although I reserve the right to be critical - unsurprisingly, in two decades of gig-going, I've come across some bands who don't exactly deserve to be garlanded with bejewelled accolades), but cut me some slack if I get any details wrong - although I'd certainly welcome any comment, particularly as it will demonstrate that this isn't just a colossal waste of time.
Standing on the brink of some memory-trawling blog action, I can't honestly predict how often I'm going to write new chapters, but I can promise that the first proper post will cover the awakening of my music addiction due to a Christmas present in 1986, and will almost certainly progress from there to cover the remainder of my school days, incorporating such awe-inspiring subjects as the first gig that never was, sensible trousers at a New Model Army concert, the support band nobody else liked, a temper tantrum at not being able to see Carter USM in Taunton, being thrown out of Poole Arts Centre, the accidental purchase of offensive band t-shirts, the band which kept changing its name and 1993: The Year Crusty Broke (incorporating The Summer of The Ozrics and Puking Out Of Simon's Car, Part 1). Dare you miss it?