Empty Vessels

Debbie and I bravely battle to a Kings Cross bathed in sunshine and serenaded by a lonely tom tom player despite engineering work on the Northern Line and after sitting through two hours of drivel from our neighbours, why do I always forget to bring headphones on the train, we step off the train in a decidedly damp Yorkshire. A quick shuttle to Menston where we are ferried to Otley by our chauffeur and host Ramsay to be welcomed by Jo ready with the excellently predictable chilli. And long may that continue. This time it's served with roast potato pieces, what a pub would call "chunky chips" and various other delicacies. Having lined our stomachs I'm feeling far from empty which is just as well as following beer and G&T at home (apparently "prinks" or pre-drinks) we hot foot down to the Old Cock Tavern, which isn't so old just smells it, for a taste of pale ale and then the closest you can get to barley wine without calling it that. We meet Dave, who's not coming out to play, and Malcolm and Lisa who are. The mix of drinks, and particularly the barley wine, have an unfortunate effect on my bladder which is a far from empty vessel and I barely make the bus stop we're aiming for before I need to dash off into the night to relieve the tension. Through the drizzle we tramp down to the Brudenell Working Mens Club where we have a quick look at the new room (Slotface playing) before having our hands stamped and entering the main bar for the main band to meet Poppy. There's no support, well there's a DJ which Malcolm and Lisa don't count as a support act cos he's just twiddling but hey, get with the programme guys. A couple of beers and a vodka and house red bull, which makes me decidedly dodgy in a weirdly good kind of way, and I'm back on the safe as houses lager from a can and the band are on.

Vessels start sort of slowish rather than hitting us full head on. It's an evening in reverse in a way as they are dancey but in an all back to mine and groove around vibe. But they do build up and in some ways it's a chronological journey through the harder sound of house and on into a more banging electronic dance scene until we're all bopping about like it's two thousand and seven teen. So bang up to date I'd say. There's a fair bit of movement in the crowd both in dancing and people worming their way down the front for their favourite tune. To be fair it's not too crowded and you can shake a leg or two. They finish on a high and being asked back for more, both cos they're damn good and we don't want it to end and I guess a little bit cos they're from Leeds, and they play us out with a fairly stirring ditty but are letting us down gently by the end. Great stuff and disproving the old adage that empty vessels make most the noise. Had a strange incident with some woman who thought I was trying to high five Ramsay (as if) and then gave me a fist bump (no, that ain't dirty like it sounds) with a sort of drawing back of the arm and body. Insisted on doing it til I cottoned on what to do. I only wanted to pat Ramsay's shoulder and ask if we're off. Anyway we aren't as there's lots of people for Ramsay and Jo to chat to. And chat they do. Debs is too so I loiter shiftily around outside on me ownsome as Malc and Lisa made a premature getaway. Too much twiddlyness I guess. Eventually we're off to the taxi place for a luxurious high speed ride home and no stopping despite the additional quantity drunk. St Ivel-ed indeed. We nip next door for a friend's daughter's birthday party at the Fleece where Rams and I do ourselves justice on the pool table taking on the young uns at doubles, no cigar though as Ramsay had his night last night, and we chat to various Otley friends including reunification with Malcolm and Lisa. Then back to the house where we hang and chat thereby proving that empty vessels make most noise, I'm Talking Heads not Bellies, before realising it's 3am and time for bed.

Sunday we phaff about not going to see Archimedes Screw Weir, apparently a popular and completely family friendly attraction, and not going to the car boot and soon it's time for our lovely hosts to drive us into Leeds where we catch the train. Slightly less irritating company opposite us. OK, a sweet young geeky couple he seeming a little wet and she having a grating giggly laugh but I think they were in love. As are the couple opposite them but just don't show it so much in public. The kids don't like it. And I mean our kids not "the" kids. So we're soon home and as much as I love Otley and the Palmer Residence with landscaped grounds it's nice to get back to grimy London and our compact flat.

Tom Petty RIP. Heartbroken. Both me and apparently you. So sad that you ran out of road in runnin down that dream. So privileged to have seen you a couple of months ago. Cheers Julia. Owe you big time. There's been lots written about who you influenced and who ripped off your riffs. Vessels not one of them. Weird as on Saturday night we were saying that whenever we meet someone cops it. You lasted another few hours after we'd left Leeds. Thanks for the soulful rock and roll. Heartfelt always.

They ain't empty...

... but they sure make a lot of noise