LaL+TdY

A wet Thursday night in Leeds as I trudge towards the Corn Exchange with heavy pack. Was looking forward to a quiet night in before the storm but last minute plans see me meet Ramsay and Jo before entering the Victorian round building for the opening night of a light show but first we enjoy a short ambient morphing into dance set by Daniel Avery and then the light show played onto a giant screen above our heads. Or below us if you've gone up to the balconies. It's almost worthwhile foregoing the roasted squash risotto so maybe next time Jo.

Daniel Avery under the stairs

Space invaders!

From above

Friday is a fairly early start as I ready myself and John's bike for the day. I start with a fairly easy ride with just a couple of sharp hills slipstreaming a few locals to the Cote de Lindley (sorry Ramsay) to see the women's race. They come past in drizzle and with a chill wind and I'm thinking I'm going to just freewheel into Pool and back to Otley but as we wait for the stragglers, due to mechanicals I'm sure, the sun peeps out and I decide to head to Pateley Bridge after all. It's a trip over the moors without any company and after the death defying descent into Pateley which made me well glad I wasn't going up it (as le Tour did on Sunday) I make my way round to Harrogate to relax and have lunch with Bronwen. We watch the men come through coming up to the sprint and then I say farewell and make my way back along the Otley Road. After nigh on 50 miles of Yorkshire hills, my London legs ain't used to it, I arrive back knackered and sweaty and down a lager in a couple of gulps. I ache all over; legs due to hills (uphill pedalling), arms due to hills (downhill, braking) and balls due to the razor that John calls a saddle. I soon recover from all ailments after Jon and Scottie arrive and after one of Jo's delicious chilli's we all go into Otley for a couple of jars. Of course it's a late night chatting and laughing over photos 4 decades old.

Tête de la course

Poursuivants

Peleton

Wet stone walls

Reservoir - which had steep hills around it

On top of the moors

Harrogate

My route. Just about. Strava didn't work. And if it ain't on Strava you never did it...

Woozy Saturday morning but Jo has laid on a fantastic breakfast to keep us going. Of course we're up early to meet Malcolm and other Otley friends to get the bus into town so's we can see maximum rock and roll. Deciding if we're in for a penny then... we get the beers in and we're too early for the first band at Oporto. A shame really as La Rissa are a pretty poor start to the day. The drummer is agricultural and the singer keyboardist you can't hear despite two mics and so any intriguing musical moments are lost. We hang around for Cruel World who have a much better sound and provide us with a fine mix of jangly guitars sometimes understated indie sometimes more rock. A fair bit of chat too. In fact probably about half the set. So we're off! Next up it's a few doors down to the Northern Guitar Shop aka Ricks Bar to see a fantastic singer songwriter who's like an animated upbeat and funny Billy Bragg called Truman. So young too! Go see him. After wandering through the shopping zone and passing a punk rock stage which must have perplexed the Saturday shoppers we split into various groups after Malcolm, Jon, Scottie and me can't get in to see St Agnes so we head up to the university where we catch Wovoka Gentle who seem to be twins and a bloke, possibly all related, who play a mesmerising set of beautify vocals over a folksy bluesy americana sound. Their van was nicked so borrowing guitars and think they may have had a bigger sound otherwise. Great guitar playing reminiscent of Tracey Thorn's unsurpassed A Distant Shore which is maybe why I was mesmerised. Then its downstairs to the big room to see hotly anticipated but very average and disappointing Dream Wife. I should have read my blog as they were that last time I saw them. Ah well they look pretty cool. And maybe it was the sound as they sounded too quiet. You can sometimes judge a book by it's cover and just cos of their name we go down to see Dead Naked Hippies who are as good as they sound being drummer guitarist and singer pummelling us with a heavy mix of thrashy shouty punky rockiness. Great contrast to the last band and showing us there is soul in music still. Malcolm and I decide to venture to the outskirts and after an interesting bus ride which I won't bore you with here but please do ask me we get to the Hyde Park Book Club where we descend into the dank cellar with the worst bogs of the day. But the best bands. First up are Body Type who are four Australian women here in England for the first time and living the dream. They have a great sound and whilst not overly innovative with their enthusiasm they can regale us with straight up rock and roll and still sound fresh. Drummer is on point holding it all together with great bassist whose face we don't often see due to hair being shaken around a lot. The front woman in ripped jeans plays a mean rock rhythm guitar and don't mind throwing a few shapes that with anyone else but a young enthusiastic first time in England would seem corny. Back to back with bassist guitar poses using axes as phallic symbols. Tick. Going over to more reserved second guitarist for chummy strumming and grinning. Tick. Down on knees guitar hero solos. Tick. Yeah! I think they've been watching too many AC/DC videos. The reserved guitarist is an excellent guitarist and when singing sounds a lot like Courtney Barnett in her grungy wry downbeat moments. All very very good. After coming up for air, some lovely food and another beer, bothering the Aussie band with a bit of chat Malcolm and I descend again to be properly entertained by Hotel Lux. Now if I'd read my blog for this lot I wouldn't have bothered to stay but as I did say in it maybe I was tired on NYE and I said they are probably worth checking out again. I was right and I'm pretty damn sure they were nothing like this 4 months ago. They have attitude and then some coming over like an indie rock The Streets crossed with the current south London sleazy sound. Which is good. They start like that anyway but then morph into an alt music hall sound very much like Ian Dury and The Blockheads before easing into a Talking Heads indie dance vibe. Again, great stuff. By the time we surface the others have arrived and soon we're back down again to see the magnificent Squid who are hard shouty and damn exciting. The drummer sings most of the songs god knows how he has the breath as he's beating merry hell outta the skins. The guy in the mac must be sweating but he also seems to have the energy for a full on assault on our senses. Squid are also influenced by the south London sleaze sound but fresh enough to hold their own with their own sound with keyboards and occasional trumpeting. There's a fair dose of electronic industrial sound and with a dance beat they verge on stuff like LCD Soundsystem. So 3 out of 3 for the Hyde Park Book Club. Of course you can't have Live at Leeds without a trip to the Brudenell so Malc and I hot foot it to catch The Murder Capital who hail from Dublin and are sponsored by Doc Martens. Honest! The main guy look like Alexi Sayle and I don't think it's just cos he's in a black suit and don't smile at all. They serve up a hard edged set with a great sound sometimes getting a little psychedelic and sometimes punk rock which precipitates the first, and last, real mosh pit of the day. For me anyway. I'm sure others went on elsewhere. Next I pop next door to see my friends son in Kawala. The place is crowded and the great guitar driven near modern ballads and dance tunes have a large proportion of the place moving their feet. More than anyone else today. They sound great and get the crowd going with both Yorkshire / Leeds / London shout outs and their infectious music. Girl next to me turns at the end saying how great they are - of course I get kudos by saying I know them. Didn't tell her I was the star turn dancer in one of their videos. Well, first to get up anyway. Ramsay persuades me to taxi to the church and I can't find Malcolm so soz luv. The promise of a band that sound like A Flock of Seagulls is hardly an incentive and The Slow Readers Club are worse that I thought. Stadium strutting 80s electronica pomp. I should have taken Olly's advice and stayed for Mini Mansions or Marie's who was coming out as we were going in and we persuaded to stay. Ah well you can't win em all. After that it's off to the Wardrobe for traditional dancing about to tunes from the 70s, 80s and 90s which weirdly is just what the youngsters want from a disco it seems. Nothing played from the last 20 years. Flagging we taxi home and straight to bed.

La Rissa - picture quality about the same as their sound - must've been gremlins

Cruel World - playing not chatting

Truman throwing shapes

Random punk for the shoppers

Still in pyjamas - clothes obviously in nicked van

Dodgy sound, dodgy photo

Great sound, dodgy photo

For those about to ROCK... we salute you!

Hotel Luxurious

Squid

No drums but horn

There was a Tory, a Liberal and a Communist in the pub yeah....

Jeez these new docs are hard on the feet

Kawala in full flow

The Boy is good - I'm still trying to get those damn bar chords right (me, not Daniel)

Seagulls, we'd be so lucky

Sunday we plunder the Otley 20p shop before saying farewell to Jon and Scottie who have got Morris Dancing tomorrow. In the afternoon Ramsay. Jo and I walk up the Chevin road to see the men's race struggle up then meet Sarah and after a couple of pints in The Legendary Junction we have a lovely thai meal. Back at the house we catnap trying to watch The Ballad of Buster Scruggs. Monday slow morning fixing the water butt before training back to London. Great weekend Ramsay and Jo. As ever. Thanks! Same place same time same activities next year!

Greg Van Avermaet (stage winner) with gold Olympic Champion helmet and bike

Bloody Yorkshire hills - wasn't Greenhow out of Pateley Bridge enough!