A few weekends ago I had a whirlwind of a few days scattered with music, mates, motorways, and maybe one too many harmonica solos.

Friday night – Big Country, Big Tunes, and a broken roadie.

The weekend kicked off at The Roadmender in Northampton watching the mighty Big Country. A favourite of mine for years and a proper classic Scottish band with anthems that hit you like a train. I’d caught just a couple of songs at Northern Kin when I played there last year or the year before but because a stage time clash meant I had to share my time between BC and The Wedding Present I had promised to go see both bands again as soon as I could to absorb some culture properly. Big Country were bloody marvellous. I’m yet to see The Wedding Present again but I will.

I had a great chat with the band’s road manager before the show, he was a lovely guy who told me they’re heading out to America soon, and then Australia. Still smashing it after so many years. Of course, they don’t forget Stuart Adamson, the iconic frontman who passed away in 2001. Think about getting that call? “Ahh Hi here Tommie, fancy singing for us?!!” That’s some huge shoes to fill, but Tommie Paxton is a brilliant and effortless fit, he bleeds the spirit of the band and boy, just close your eyes and does he sound like Stuart!!

Guitarist Jamie had a nightmare with his gear, the kind of gremlins that happen and creep in at the worst times and to top it off, his roadie had taken a fall off the stage at soundcheck. As Jamie struggled his roadie / tech was laid up in the hotel with a dodgy back. The show still delivered full force, because, lets be honest, that’s what class bands do.

Saturday – Blackpool, Compass Cafe, and Catch-Ups

Saturday meant a 5-hour pilgrimage north to the one and only Compass Café in Blackpool. It’s hands down my favourite café in the world and I was there to support my old tour mates Pet Needs.

I had been on the road with them in Germany a couple of years ago, opening their shows, travelling round, playing table tennis with Jack and sleeping on the floor. There’s apparently still a spot in their van called “Henshaw’s Hole” That’s a badge of honour I’ll happily take.

Before the gig, we had a meal at the cafe. The band and the lovely Steve and Michelle Burrows, who own and run Compass. Loads of stories were flying around, Johnny from the band reckons I’m the one full of random tales but if you ask me, Steve Burrows is the true storyteller. The man’s a walking jukebox of anecdotes. The whole Compass crew are something special though, including Jimmy, a truly wonderful gent who’s surprise birthday party was the reason for my last visit to play the cafe in January this year. Its a warm and welcoming place and for a café, the atmosphere is absolutely electric on gig nights so it feels like a second home. I’m waiting to get a shift or two on the cafe rota as I seem to be there so much. Michelle has threatened this so be warned and lets be honest, they have an area named after one of my songs so what’s not to love?

The show was cracking, full of love and laughs, and Johnny said a few things to me afterwards about my performance that really hit and helped the energy drinks I had to consume to fuel the journey back home. A proper emotional moment. It’s really lovely to spend time with truly honest and people that “get it” without any expectation or attitude, Pet Needs are those boys and I love them for it.

I finally rolled into bed at 8am after the long, tiring drive back. home My body hated me, but my heart was brimming.

Sunday – Colchester, No Keyboards, but Chaos

By noon I was up again (barely), loading gear and heading to The Victoria Inn in Colchester for a solo set. Maybe a bit more mellow than Saturday’s madness, but every bit as much fun in its own way.

Tom, the ever-reliable keyboardist in my band turned up to watch / support / heckle and mock which was great so naturally I rewarded him by making him sing one of his keyboard parts live. I think he’s still plotting revenge and I don’t doubt it’ll be sweet.

One of the real highlights of the night was the table reserved for regulars, absolute live music nuts who I have played to 3 or 4 times now. They always show up, drink a bit and get involved with harmonica solos and full-throated singalongs. They’re chaos in the best possible way and an absolute joy to play for.

So there’s my weekend, Three gigs. Two ends of the country, a buzzing brain and a knackered body.

I wouldn’t change a second of it except maybe I’d ask Monday to be a bit more merciful.