Song, by Toad

Late last week Dylan was trying to be a smart arse by once again reminding everyone of a joke he found extremely funny about nine months ago but which everyone else forgot more or less within half an hour.  That joke?  Bringing some ASDA Smart Price Gin to our Christmas party (first Saturday in December, for those of you planning that far ahead).  Because I like gin, you see.  Nice gin.  Like Tanqueray.  And this was cheap and rough.  Ha ha.  See?  Get it?  Yes, that’s what I thought too.  Hilarious.

What he ended up doing though, in looking for a picture of this foul fluid, was stumbling across a blog called Gin and Crumpets which is fucking brilliant.  It’s about gin and food and restaurants and gin and cakes and gin, so you can see the obvious appeal.  And, having crashed her party with our Christmas-party-shitty-gin-related shenanigans it then, in a magnificent coincidence, turns out that Ms. Gin & Crumpets herself is actually a fan of the Edinburgh DIY music scene.  Which is weird.  But great.  And weird.

Anyhow, pop along and read the blog.  I am handily linking to the gin section, but there’s a lot more to it than that: the turn of phrase is brilliant, the photos are oddly artless and still somehow gorgeous.  And in general it is just a nice place.  There are other reasons for mentioning it of course, and those reasons are in the title of the blog itself: gin, and of course crumpets.

Firstly, I feel like I owe gin an apology.  Neil and I drank a bottle of Caol Ila and a bottle of Ardbeg between us on Sunday night and, apart from the brain-crushing hangover, I felt rather grubby the next day: like I’d cheated on a lover who had nurtured me through years of heartache.  Do not worry, my juniper mistress, I may have dallied for an evening, but you are still my true love.  Fear not, for you have not been abandoned.

Secondly, there are the crumpets.  I fucking love crumpets.  Growing up in Austria you simply do not get crumpets, so when we came to England to visit my English grandparents (the others are Dutch-Canadian) I remember watching cricket, Wimbledon, Neighbours and eating crumpets.  I still rarely ever eat crumpets now, but for some reason they seem like the ultimate treat: toasted to the point of becoming slightly crispy on the top, but still soft in the middle, and drenched in so much butter it could stop your heart from across the room.  There were a few oddly nostalgic things about visiting England in those days, stuff like digestive biscuits with cheddar and apples or beans on toast – things we just couldn’t get at home – but crumpets were then and remain one of my favourites.

And that, is pretty much that.  Don’t know what brought that aimless ramble on, but there you go.  It can’t be insightful, cutting edge cultural commentary every day, you know.

The Victorian English Gentlemen’s Club – Ban the Gin

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Tom Waits – Gin Soaked Boy

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So, plans, people, plans.  What are they, what’s going on, what am I missing out on?  Tonight, despite the blazing sunshine and hugely inviting back garden I shall be indoors, with the shutters and the curtains firmly closed, recording the guitar bits for what is probably going to be the next release on Song, by Toad Records.  It’s a demo really, although it’s going to be the best demo recording we can manage using the kit we have in the house, so not a deliberately scratchy pile of old rubbish.

Robert Fisher of the Willard Grant Conspiracy told me, unprompted, that he would like to do a Toad Session in the Autumn when he’s touring with a stripped down band.  That would be after Meursault, Down the Tiny Steps and Eagleowl.  Fucking brilliant.

Saturday will be spent working on the Alela Diane Toad Session, which is very close to publication, and trying to avoid the lure of the back garden and a bucket of gin.  Tanqueray, Sir?  Ooh, don’t mind if I do Philpott.  In the evening there will be the absorption of culture (local community theatre in which my friend Morgan – Toad Sessions’ cameraman, cinematographer, grip, best boy, etc… – will be playing a starring role) followed by the absorption of industrial levels of botanically infused spirits at Euan from Trampoline’s birthday festivities.

Then Sunday will see the acquisition of some new speakers, to replace the ones Mrs. Toad and I have blown yet again, getting the posters sorted for the Song, by Toad Records launch night on the 14th June, followed by cleaning up the house so our downstairs floors can be restored on Monday, followed by the Mae Shi at Cabaret Voltaire.  Full, I would say, and little room to sit and do fuck all which is what the weekend is really for.  But plenty of fun to be had in there somewhere I would say.

The Victorian English Gentlemen’s Club – Ban the Gin