When I'm not working to fill King Gordy's ever swelling coffers I sometimes make my way down to the local hostelry to sample a spot of good old dog dying blues.The other night I caught an outfit called 'Primo Blues' These guys were as tight as a nuns knicker elastic and aside from playing some hot porch swinging blues they also threw in a goodly portion of twiddly fingered beardy jazz.
An evening of good music combined with far too many pints of Batemans 'Rosey Nosey', a fruity Christmas ale of pant ripping ferocity. Meant that the next day was spent with my head in my hands and a well placed cork. Good night though...!
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