Lowlife UK 2001 Diary

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15.12.2001, Civic Centre, Middleton w/Red Alert(didn't play), Varukers, Major Accident, Beerzone, Swellbellies, MDM and 3CR.

How big? How fucking big is this place? It's like an aircraft hanger. It looks half empty, but it probably holds a good 1500 or so. Anyway we have a dressing room, which has light bulbs round the mirrors and a piano. Oh darling, me and Dickie were positively in heaven, don't you know! So what is there to say about it. Well firstly the idea of having monitors onstage, isn't for decoration or as a foot rest, but you'd have thought so, 'cos the fucking things didn't work again. How often does that happen? Can it be that fucking hard to turn the bastards on? I think all sound blokes are in a conspiracy against us. They ring each other up the night before "those Yorkshire bastards Lowlife are coming, make it as hard as possible for 'em". Do your job right you tosspots!!!!!! Secondly, to say we can't hear a fucking thing, we play alright, dodging beer and cans, hurled by the heaving mass(?) of people at the front. There is more gob than normal tonight, as the only time I can tell the mike is working is in between songs. Can't remember much of what was said, but it was probably insulting the Mancs and their scummy team(s). Any road proceed to watch rest of bands, Paul gets ratted, and the plug gets pulled just before Red Alert go on, which is a twat of a thing to do. Well that's it for 2001, here's to 2002 and more of the same (probably)

8.12.2001, Freebutt, Brighton w/Pork Dukes, Anal Beard and The Anoraks.

5.00am! What sort of a time is that? Have to go pick Dave up from Leeds, it was his works xmas do last night. Mr. Thompson fucking stinks, I feel physically sick, the bastard can sit by his tod on the train. So a 4 hour journey on t'train it is. Paul starts on the cider around 8.39am, Mick contemplates some day old prawns that he's brought with him, I spend £3.60 on a fucking sandwich, Dave still stinks like a dossers g-string! Any road get to Brighton, meet Mel of Combat Shock, fuck around all day on the beach, in the pub etc, then eventually go to the venue. I'm coming down with the flu, which is about right for me, just before we play. Any road watch the Anoraks, then we're on. What will the Southerners make of the bullshit we come out with? They seem to like it, although I don't think they can understand a word we're saying! Play very well, and tight, which is good considering the ale that's been supped. Finish, and go try flog cds. Sell a couple, miss Anal Beard, and see the Pork Dukes, who I right enjoyed, even though 2 of them looked like Uncle Fester! Decide to finish off night with a curry. We get bottles of wine 'cos we're posh, Mick turns into Oswald Moseley, and Dave falls asleep in his. Other stuff happened, but to be honest I felt like shit by then and took no notice. I like Brighton, and not once did I hear " I will survive". We may be back, but don't hold your breath (unless your Dave)

23.11.2001, Studio, Hartlepool w/ Stuntface.

Almost 3 fucking hours to get here. Friday night bloody traffic. Bastards!!!! Get the bloody train, you tossers! Anyhow get here at just before 8, and there's a few in, and Stuntface had been here since 6. Bloody professionals. Hang on whose missing, oh yeah it's Mick. Coming up with 'er indoors. There's some sort of confusion as to who's headlining. The venue says its Stuntface. They think it's us. We couldn't give a shite. Dave makes a decision for once, and says they've come furthest so they can headline. Fair enough, we're on at 9. Then Dave's phone goes its 8.15. It's Mick stuck on the A1. Tell him to come off next junction, follow signs for Teeside. 8.35, decide to ring him, he's lost somewhere in Darlington. So a few more directions and he's off on his merry way. Turns up at 9.10, to cheers from the crowd, as the rest of us are on stage. Anyway plugs in and off we go. Play well despite one or two distractions (well two big distractions), and have a few up dancing by the end, and even a half hearted scrap, not that we'd encourage it, honest. Then proceed to watch Stuntface and drink several cups of black coffee (ROCK AND ROLL!!!!!!). Sell absolutely fuck all, 'cos the daft twat that I am forgot everything. Oh yeah and a big thank you must go to the bastards who decided to dig up the A19 on the way back, and send us on a magical mystery tour round the arse end of Stockton and Yarm. TWATS!!!!!!!

.03.11.2001, Rios, Bradford w/ Peter and The Test Tube Babies, The Vibrators, Broken Bones, One Way System, Beerzone, M.D.M and Pink Torpedoes.

It's been a long while, but we're back to Rios again. There's something almost comforting about the place to me now. We were bribed with money and ale, so here we go. The sound man is still in bed playing with himself, so its 2.30 and we've no mikes or nothing, and we're due on at 3. The promoters having a dickie fit, and I've only had one ale. Any road he turns up, we have the quickest sound check known to mankind and we're on. All I can hear is myself, which is off putting at the best of times, but we battle on all the same. Do half hour , finish, and go get some beer, thinking it were shite, but surprisingly people were saying we were right good and tight and all that. Fair enough. Then proceed to piss all money made up against the wall. Marvelous!!!

05.08.2001, Moriarties, Hull, UK w/Assert, Whizzwood, Rotunda, Bickles Cab, Swellbellies, Hotwired +more.

My banging head! Jesus wept I feel rough. Decided to go to pub last night for a quick couple of pints and watch some bloke singing Tina Turner and Shirley Bassey songs. Still there at 1am, and I'm paying for it now. Head feels like its met one of Mr Sutcliffes little friends and its only a matter of time before I wretch all over some little hardcore kid. Anyroad we play , there's a few there but what's fucking wrong? Haven't I cleaned my teeth? Has Paul dropped one? Has Mick got that look in his eye again? They stand right at the back of the place. Maybe they can sense the impending Technicolor yawn, or maybe they're just fucking scared. I mean come on, how the fuck can a big girls blouse like me scare anyone. Maybe they reckon we're shite, but if that was the case, they'd go outside in the sun. Plus we get a smattering of applause and the occasional WHOOOOOOO!!!!!! Any road don't think we played too badly at all. Macc Lads cover was funny, fuck the right on bastards, no sense of fucking humor. Sold stickers and badges to mainly women who couldn't resist our devastating good looks and GSOH. Swellbellies and Whizzwood were good as well. Got paid and celebrated with a pint of Guinness and Black which is the Jessies drink of choice

20.04.2001, Mcdermotts, Wakefield, UK w/ Sensa Yuma and Inner Terrestrials.

Only half an hour away from us, but we've never been to Wakefield before. We arrive at around 7ish to find that there's a mound of food for us, and also we get 8 free pints. Brilliant I've just eaten and I'm driving! Oh well its free, so proceed to stuff as many onion rings down my neck as possible without chucking. It's a cracking set up, there's monitors for the drummer, and everything's miked up. Makes a change from the usual crap we play with. We're on at 8.30, and it's 8.25 and there's no bugger in, bar the bands. We wander down stairs see a couple of people, go back up and by the time we're around 4 songs in, the place has really filled up .Fuck knows where they're coming from but it'll do for me. It's tighter than a ducks arse, and is probably one of the best gigs I've done in a long time. I'm enjoying doing the band again as it went a bit pear shaped last year. We finish with our usual Heavy Metal ending and proceed to flog cd's (well Paul does). We flog 15, yes 15 of the little bastards. We're almost getting enough money for the new record. Jobs a good 'un. Watch the other bands and then stay on for the club, which plays loads of shite like Korn and Marilyn Manson, but redeems itself by playing AC/DC, Iron Maiden and Anthrax. All the kids watch me and Dave playing our air guitars, thinking "Daft old bastards" and they're probably right.

15.04.2001, Westshore Club, Llandudno, Wales, UK w/Foreign Legion, W.O.R.M., 0898, Out Of Use, Luna Suit, Gash and 3 Cornered Rug.

Bank holiday Sunday and it's over the border into Wales, a land of sheep and hills and even more sheep. Being from Yorkshire its like heaven with all them tempting wooly minxes giving us the eye and bleating seductively at us. Suffice to say it takes a long while for us to get there because of these distractions. I've told the bloke putting the gig on that we want to go on as early as possible so we can have one or two shandys. It's 5.30 that we're due on, excellent! So after booking into our B&B and having the bright idea of walking to the venue from there not realizing its almost 2 miles away, we arrive and its surprisingly full. We watch 3CR who always entertain me in a kind of Victorian freak show kind of way, and then on we go. Its tight, we give the Taffs a bit of grief, and it goes down well. We're playing better than we have for a long while. The crowds one of them that sits there, but after so many times of playing you get used to it. So six 'o clock in the evening what do we do, proceed to get mortaled on tins of Guinness from the local Offie! Have to avoid a barrage of eggs from the local kids on the way though. Although when I give the little bastards a drink they're my mates then. Watch rest of the bands but it all starts to become a haze. Me and Paul walk back after the gig and it takes us 2 hours. Thank you Jesus for getting nailed up so we can have this drinking session and not have to get up for work the next day.

03.03.2001, Lord Nelson, Thirsk, UK w/Dead Pets.

Thirsk then, a tiny little market town just off the A1. Sort of place where your mothers your sister and you fuck your Dad on a regular basis! So when we pull up outside the Lord Nelson for the first time in my life, I'm scared. I have visions of banjo plucking half breeds wanting to make me squeal like the pig that I am! So we move the gear in, its not too bad, a decent sized room and a decent bar, not that it bothers me as I'm driving again! So we start setting up, and people start coming in, apparently if you come in fancy dress you get in a quid cheaper. I find it hard to distinguish who's in fancy dress and who's not. There's one young lass done up in a school uniform, like in that Britany Spears video, this is too much of a distraction for me, and I make my excuses and go to the toilets. So, it gets to nine and we go on, and fuck me with a pointy stick if the place is not packed, and we play, and we play well, the best yet since Paul joined at last it's starting to work. Probably 'cos none of us are pissed either. So we finish and watch the Dead Pets, who I think are really good, but their singers a nonce with crap hair. Then after that its time for bingo. What a cracking idea! Bingo at a punk gig, its an absolute winner! Of course I didn't win so it must have been a fix. After that we proceed to flog cd's and our back drop which was pinched out of a skip earlier that day. CD's = £30, Skip Items = £15. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!!!!

09.02.2001, The Victoria, Derby, UK w/Guitar Gangsters and Pol Pot Pourri.

So after the Oldham fiasco, Dave drives which means no beer and a slapped arse face all fucking evening. I'd been here once before a couple of years ago, and remember it being small with a very low roof, so when we get there, it actually looks even smaller than 'd remembered and when you stand upright on the stage, your heads about half an inch from the roof. Fucking hell they've got Sigue Sigue Sputnik playing here next week, they won't even get there platform boots on the stage. Any road the owner is very strict with his times, and as per usual we get next to no sound check. I used to think sound checks were a waste of time until we played Oldham the other week. So we go on to the assembled few, and play. It's not bad, definitely getting better, still nowhere near tight enough, but its the usual case of not being able to hear each other, and everyone finishing songs at different times. All fuck ups towards ends of songs are cleaned up with our AC/DC endings, an easy way to sound tight! So we go into the bar, in the other room, and proceed to sell stuff, and flog the last of our shirts and 10 cd's. A winner! Also have a natter with Arthur of Pol Pot Pourri, who used to be in the Lurkers, and he is a decent bloke. Makes my day when these people are sound and still remember where they came from, and aren't in it for the money (UNLIKE ME).

?/01/2001, The Abbey, Oldham w/OVERSPILL, COSH GOBLINS, 3 CORNERED RUG, EXTINCTION OF MANKIND, VICTIMS OF RADIATION, GUNPOINT CORPORATION, INSCISION, BORN IDLE.

A drummer too pissed to play, a singer too crap to drum and that's all I can say about this debacle. A definite turning point, in the fact that we realized that if your wankered and can't play, then what's the point. (This is rich coming from me who doesn't even remember doing some gigs!)