Self Help for Closed Mic

Well, the hour is finally upon us. The Sweet Ordeal, the world's longest in rehearsal indie folk band is about to perform in public. Well, not in public as such. That would be common. No, in a kitchen. And not any old kitchen: John in the band's kitchen. Christ we're brave. Next, we might go to the newsagents in our slippers.

Still there is a rationale for this. The traditional route is probably the open mic night. Nothing wrong with those, and we are lucky to have some excellent ones in Brighton. Trouble is you only get a few songs to show how brilliant you are/n't. Again, nothing wrong with that, except we are a three piece band with 5 small children with two more on the way (The Sweet Ordealies, anyone?), so to go to the trouble of arranging a night out we can all make and then to only play for 10 minutes? Well, I'm not having it, though neither are the public, 'cause we're in John (and Evie's) kitchen.

A lot of bottle. John in his kitchen. December 2013. Photo: Nick McMaster

My own personal view as well is that I'm getting on a bit. I know, I know, I don't look it (hey, you at the back, stop chuckling) but we've got a bit of catching up to do, I wanna bypass open mics and go straight to being on a bill. Damn it, in the early 90's I was the lead singer of Andre Breton's Steam Powered Whippet Band (featuring the Twittering Machine). We once headlined over The Levellers for Crissakes. I know, I know, absolutely ridiculous band name that could have only been developed in some doped up fug. I ask you: The Levellers? Sheesh!

Okay, so that's also the other worry for me. I haven't really sang since the mid 90's, when I was in much loved (my words) folk punk duo N'Arf! Yes, with the exclamation mark. I am so good at names. For many months we performed at the Prince Albert on our famed (correct, my word) 'One Pub Tour'. I still have a half chewed cassette (good band name!) of our songs somewhere, for any completists out there.

Sam playing in sync, near sink. December 2013. Photo: Nick McMaster

Anyway, maybe I'm not quite ready for the open mic scene, being sandwiched between an eccentric old man playing a keyboard and the latest curly blonde haired precocious folkie ingénue. In many ways I'm stuck between being naturally worried about singing in front of a live audience for the first time this century, but also wanting to play for two hours because I'm a bit egotistical. For those coming to John and Evie's, don't worry it won't be two hours. Though it may feel like it if I don't hit those high notes.

We will do an open mic night I'm sure. John is very keen as he has a range of hats that must have a regular airing at The Brunswick. But for now we are going for the safety of a kitchen, though not with the prefix 'health and', being crammed with 20 people. And of course I didn't mention The Self Help Group. If you've not heard of them then they are our fantasy template. A really good local folk band who write thoughtful, clever, catchy, pant wettingly beautiful harmony soaked songs, now committed to an album, that has turned up on many best of 2013 lists: both local and national. For some bonkers reason, they are 'supporting' us. In a kitchen. No pressure then.

I am not sure I have thought this through...

Nick standing the heat. December 2013. Photo: John Hamilton

But I am really excited. We may come across as a bit raggedy and half cooked compared to The Selfies, but I genuinely think we have some great songs that will be helpful to hear in the same context as a band further down the line. It's time to stand or fall by our material. And if it doesn't look like its working, we'll just throw the kitchen sink at it. Catch!