Me jumping in front of a perfectly good picture of last year’s Lemmy Open Mic
Those of you who frequent my gigs page (none of you) will be dimly aware that I spend (or, more accurately, spent) quite a lot of wednesday evenings at the lemmy open mic. It was very seldom a perfect evening last year – situated in a student club/bar, it inevitably attracts a crowd consisting of cover artists and people who will only listen to or clap for their friends – but under the stern leadership of Jack and Jonny, it had several runaway successes that were all the more impressive because the crowd was… less than perfect.
The magic, alas, left with Mr. Petch. Ben, the chap running it now, is a thoroughly nice bloke, but is steering the event in a slightly funny direction. Open Mics are bizarre creatures and I won’t pretend that I could run a perfect one in the lemmy (or anywhere else), but if I was suddenly put in charge of wednesday evenings, here’s what I’d have to do to get me to come back:
1) Kill the DVDs. Of course, all students love bananaman, danger mouse, labyrinth, etc etc, and seeing them