It's over a year since the infamous gig at the Snooty Fox which was recorded without our knowledge, but it's now available at a very modest price on CD. Check our website for details.

2003 saw us playing once more with a settled line-up after the departure of Uncle Jon Whitham and Bol Roberts, with replacements Ian and Simon both fitting in well and settling down nicely.

2003 also saw us playing a few new gigs, quite a lot of old gigs and some gigs never to be played again because they closed down or they stopped putting bands on, or we merely got a bit picky and kicked them into touch. In  August was the disappointment of the cancelled Olympia gig where the organiser didn't  have the nerve to phone and tell us that we weren't actually going to be playing and he left it til the last minute. We were all very disappointed  about not playing that because we thought there may be a chance of getting a few gigs  down London. But a back-handed compliment was that the band they got to replace us was Lindisfarne, so please no requests for Fog on the Tyne. The disappointment of the Olympia gig was soon forgotten later in August when we played Kemble airbase down near Bristol. We had played this gig the previous year and had a great time, but this year's was going to be even better because it was raising money for a children's hospice in Bristol and we had our chums Cold Gin played as well. The weather was scorching, and when we got there the place where we were to play was like an oven, and minus a stage so JJ and the rest of the boys together manufactured one out of cardboard boxes, no, dear reader, not for me to fall through but to flatten out so we could place it on the grass.  There was also going to be a charity auction of various items collected by a lady flyer who had gone round the coast of Great Britain in her Sopwith Camel, towing a double decker bus I believe. They asked me to be the auctioneer - yee-hoo - so I had several "looseners" and the great aviator landed her plane as the auction grew nigh. It got off to a dodgy start when I called the lady pilot Amy Johnson, much to the delight of the crowd, but unfortunately not to the delight of the lady herself. Her face was like thunder, evidently she had lost her sense of humour over the Channel. I of course seized upon this and for the next 30 or 40 minutes kept calling her Amy Johnson to great roars of approval from the now drunken mob. Various items were auctioned, like a pair of Douglas Bader's socks, Glen Miller's boarding pass and  the top off  Blackpool  Tower which was still attached to the under-carriage of Amy Johnson's flying machine. Plenty of money was raised and the organiser seemed well chuffed with what I'd done, although the same couldn't be said for Amy Johnson.

So at last the time had come for what we were here for - the barbecue. To the shouts of "grub up" Pete's eyes rolled back and his arms started flailing. JJ and Ian did a great impersonation of Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble by devouring half a cow each. Our chaperone, Steve Histon, was the quietest I've seen him for a long time, almost an hour in fact, only stopping chewing to pour more beer down. Simon and Mick annoyed everybody by pushing in the queue and I , of course, drank a little wine and nibbled on crackers and select choice cheeses. Marvellous!

And so to the gig. Cold Gin set the scene by playing a storming set, they really livened up the now well-oiled audience. It was rumoured even Amy Johnson had a smile on her face as she donned her flying cap, climbed into the cockpit and flew off into the sunset, but I don't believe it.

Then it was the turn of the Mag 7 to carry on where the Cold Ginners had left off. We went down really well and I managed to fall over the cardboard stage only once, much to the amusement of the band. A great night was had by all, and for some the best was yet to come - literally. So then for the Mag 7 it was down to the serious business - more drink. But there were some amongst us who unfortunately had a little too much to drink and consumed rather a large quantity of white wine, no names mentioned, but he plays Bass. And so to bed.

Next morning the sun blazed down again and poor Mick looked like a Victorian melodrama, leaning on a wall and clutching his head - "Ariadne, the lights". Unfortunately for him the boys were there to offer sympathy and help. "It tasted like sweet water" was the only thing that Mick could mumble  as he tried to stop his head from rolling off his shoulders. This rock'n roll lifestyle we lead eh! It doesn't bear thinking about what state we all would have been in had we played the Olympia beer festival. While on the subject of the demon drink the end of July saw us also play an acoustic set at the wedding reception of Taff and Helen. Yes folks the ale-cart of the parish finally tied the knot and a great time was had by all. Taff looking resplendent in his new suit was genuinely overcome, mainly with beer and body fluids. If I can be serious for a moment, they make a lovely couple and we all wish them all the very best.

It was after this gig that Steve and Margaret asked us if we would play their son Dan's wedding reception which of course we duly did and enjoyed ourselves immensely.Best bib and tucker twice in a month, phew!         

And so to the Barge Inn. An unforgettable night, especially for me. With Simon away on holiday, we had our friend Tony Marcetta standing in on drums. First bar, first song, big opening I fall backwards into the drums. I'll carry the scars to my grave. Tony never missed a beat and I never spilled a drop. Whenever I see Tony now he likes to stand at least 6 feet away in case it happens again. But it could have been worse, 6 inches to the left and I could have lost my flute and ended up whistling Dixie every time I took a step forward. Or I could have fallen off the stage and been driven insane by the continuous playing of Dualling Banjos from them swelled masses. "You sure got a pretty mouth"

And it came to pass that the Mag 7 were dragged shouting, kicking and definitely screaming into the charts. For some strange reason I suggested we play a  Darkness song. This decision has proved to be one of the best I've ever made, as the song is now included in the act and goes down a treat. But like the damned fool I am I will insist on trying to do a Justin Hawkins at the end of the song and jump high into the sky, but with my knees it's going to cause problems because one day I'll fall arse over tit no doubt.

We also re-introduced that old chestnut Satellite much to the delight of  the people who come to see us regularly. It's a strange song that always seems to go down well, much to the annoyance of  Simon and Ian who had to sit and learn it again. But it's back in the set and we're playing it well and it seems to be working again.

Once again we played the Clowne Christmas party the Sunday before Christmas, and again a tremendous night was had by all. We really do enjoy playing there because they make us feel welcome and are a great audience who don't throw much, and when Ian and JJ removed their shirts before we played the Darkness song it made an interesting evening and the photos are even better. Bare flesh -  wo-oooooh!!!

To finish the year in style we played Joan and Stuart's party in Mansfield at the end of  December. That was a smashing night, although I was a little under the weather with a cold and nearly lost my voice. Some people were a little disappointed that I could still speak, even more disappointed when I could sing (only just though). But it was a great do and we look forward to seeing Joan, Stuart ,Richard and all the gang in 2004.

Speaking of which we've a few gigs already  booked for 2004, including  the Clowne Christmas party again, Interesting gigs here, there and everywhere, one at the Boardwalk supporting the Acoustic Angels at the end of February.

So thank you for your support and hopefully we'll see you at a gig some time this year.
Take care and don't  forget mine's a pint.

All the best, PW.