I know everyone keeps telling us that the music industry is dying, but this is a ridiculous step in trying to keep it profitable:

New York Times Article on VIP ticketing

You could argue of course, that if people are willing to pay, then what’s the harm? and to some degree, that’s all well and good. That my friends is the wonder of capitalism. But really, one thousand dollars to have your picture taken with Bon Jovi’s maracas and mic stand? and not even meet the fucker? oh sorry, I forgot the folding chair too! It’s like a tax on the stupid/rich.

Here’s one negative response, specifically about what Mr Jovi offers, care of the highly informative blog by Bob Lefestz:

One person’s view on Mr Jovi’s VIP ticket offer

I’m glad there’s no chance of my band ever being in the position to be remotely likely to consider this. I’m off to listen to my Fugazi records. Take that corporate rock!

Hello.

I’m drummer in Adam Boucher band. This is how I is normally talk because I is from South Africa. I’m learn to play to drums with African tribes in Savanna with cactus milk, Cow’s blood and and pig skin loin cloths. Main village elder was never happy with me because I is always taking too much cactus milk and trying to be sleeping with his daughter many times. He send me on journey to England. He says for finding myself. I’m think he doesn’t like me. Even buy me ticket. And here I is now 8 years later.

I jest of course. I do speak properly. Though some would say not far off from the above example. I am from Johannesburg but I  did not learn to play drums in a rural village. I did learn to play them in an urban one. In rock bands. Shit rock bands. In a shit town called Benoni which, when translated means ‘son of my sorrow’. It wasn’t all bad though. When you grow up in a one horse shit town, you look for the few people who will inspire you to make something of yourself. You find them and grow together and then things only get better!  So when I grew up, things weren’t so shit any more and I moved to the UK to find my fortune. It’s been many years now and I still haven’t found it. But I’ve hand loads of fun looking! And, contrary to popular belief, I have not wrestled a lion as a right of passage into manhood. I have run away from one ostrich and numerous rhino’s though. But they didn’t get me.

Anyway. Enough of this drivel. My band rocks and is a lot of fun. We rock it hard and loud. The other two don’t drink nearly as much as I’d like them to. But on the other hand, I don’t practice nearly as much as they’d like me to. It’s ok though.  I get drunk enough for the three of us, and any time I drum, regardless of practice or not, I’m fucking on it anyway. Like a rock machine!

You should see us at a gig. Even if it is just to throw things at us.

Laters

So here I am. This is me. Just as I was born, allbeit a lot bigger now, weighing much more and having a bit more hair. I have more teeth too. Oh, and love hairs, ah, the love hairs. Hmmm. Clearly I’m fairly different from the way I was born as it happens. But, I’m still me. So tough.

I’m in this band too. This one you’ve clicked on here. Or maybe you found us whilst looking for a chiropadist in Melton Mowbray who’s called Adam butcher, and your spelling has gone a little awry cos it’s Wednesday, and you’re wishing it was Friday. Well, it’s not. So focus. Cos we AINT cutting your toenails. No sireee. (NB, we might)

We would, however, come play a gig for you. And if you’re paying well we could convince Adam to change his second name to butcher, just for the one night.

So if you found us by accident, or you came here on purpose, check us out. We could come and rock the moobs off your venue, or come and offend your family at a christening. Or perhaps proper mess up your kid at his barmitzvah. Your choice. We don’t discriminate, unless your ugly and want to be our wife. Then we discriminate heavily and with much badness. You’ve been warned.

By the way, all the songs are Adam’s. It’s his screwed up youth you’re hearing about, his old girlfriends, past bands, small penis, bad teeth, soft hands and crap cars. I’m just the bass player, so those low frequency smooth nice bits, with the odd fuck up you can hear, that’s me. Not the moany stuff, that’s Adam. The Bangy clangy bashy stuff, that’s Steve. More from him later.

Note to self, next album title idea ‘We’re not chiropodist butchers” (must remember to tell Adam, he’ll love it)

You can go away now.

Bye!

Since I’ve re-done the site, all the old blog posts are now confined to the rubbish bin of the interwebs. Mostly, that’s a good thing, but I thought I’d re-post some of the more worthy things on the new site.

First up is the tour video I made earlier in the year. In March, the band and I went on a 5 date tour with the awesome Dave Hughes (accompanied by the equally awesome Jud Harron). It was an amazingly fun tour and the video is my attempt to document some of the highlights. It’s split into two parts and it’s quite long, but well worth taking some time to watch, even if I do say so my self:

1 girl, 4 boys, 5 days – A Tour Folkumentary – Part 1

1 girl, 4 boys, 5 days – A Tour Folkumentary – Part 2

It’s also up in four parts on youtube, but minus the intro. I really hate youtube!

For those that hadn’t realised, I’ve re-designed the website. No big fanfare though. It actually looks like a step down from the old one and that’s deliberate.

The aim of the new site is to focus more on the blog and get rid of the stuff that nobody ever looked at and I never updated. Hopefully it’ll make it all a bit simpler in the process too. It’s a work in progress, so let me know if you spot something that doesn’t work…

Everyone say hi to Jon & Steve who, you should all know by now, are my ace band. They’ll be blogging here too (that’s the plan anyway!). Feel free to reply to blogs and get some conversation going. Either that, or hurl abuse at us.