Bees Mouth - November 2023

November 6

Remember when Jeff n Elon AKA the Chuckle Bros were going to take us all to Mars? Now they’ve pivoted back to more standard Evil Mastermind stuff but the idea of leaving Airstrip One for the frigid lifeless wastes of outer space kinda seems kinda appealing as everything gets worse and worse n the Four Horsemen are getting their saddles and tack nice and ready.. Thank Krull for JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH, a hermetically sealed and perfectly realised biosphere simply humming with symmetry and geometry thanks to the unflagging interstellar efforts of Luke “Solaris” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Stalker” Thomas (drms) as they light the blue touch paper and stand well forward then take off for the outer spaceways powered by an improbability drive of unfeasibly hot licks and cool grooves… forget tedious rain-soaked displays of sectarian pyrotechnics, the real fireworks are in here, my friend, as the Bee’s Team hover, oscillating at the edge of perception across all the range of harmonics on this octave, waiting to make with libations of the quality hooch, Abdul conducts proceedings from the middle of the road, I do something or other on bass, all manner of esteemed guests drop by to sit in and do their thing, and the regular cast of street characters demonstrate what Cruella would call their ‘lifestyle choices’ by begging for scraps on the freezing slippery pavements before retiring to who knows where before waking up and starting again…there’s a whole carousel of bullshit whirling around and around out there, so step off with us for a while, bad things are afoot but screw them, step off and get up with it, we’ll be waiting.

Bees Mouth - October 2023

October 30

Yeah but how much time rilly? Act like you’ve got all the time, like poor cautious Sir Kier clinging onto the greasy pole and praying it doesn’t rain? Or no time, like some kind of jittery hyper-accelerated 21st century Carpe Diem drenched in the horrors of FOMO and YOLO like twin evil deities mocking your puny mediated efforts to stay connected? Relax, jack, as JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH drifts thru the temporal web of unimaginable stringy wave/particle dilemmas in its own unholy orbit, dragging all towards the wildly swinging door and rotating severed mannequin head thru the sheer gravitational pull exerted by those twin tears in the fabric of the space-time continuum which physicists and their equations have learnt to explain as Luke “Event Horizon” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Spaghettification” Thomas (drms), ready as ever to lay down a subatomic shelf of hot licks and cool grooves…. g’wan, overcome your uncertainty principle and come and get entangled with our multiverse of good vibes, the Bee’s Team manifesting on this earthly material octave to make with the quality hooch, me doing something or other on bass, the various esteemed special guests swinging in from the contested night to blow their horns, Abdul rapping in the window like the voice of your conscience, the nameless creatures of the night shuffling past on loop, all good company welcome, all bad company not, all the good things, none of the bad things, the equivocation and lies and bad faith and violence.. not here there ain’t, here there’s all the time you need, so make some time for it, why wouldn’t you?

October 23

As a mediated citizen of Airstrip One it is of course incumbent on you to react to the current horrendous turn in world events as all the worst people in the world go slouching to Megiddo trailing death in their filthy wake… but how? Pick a side and then splatter your violent ill-informed partisan opinions all over X (formerly Shitter), wring hands ineffectually etc? Or get along to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH, a non-partisan 100% inclusive event where all are welcome so long as they are prepared to deposit their own personal bullsh*t outside the gate, let Abdul The Gesticulator take care of it for a while, and get down and get with it to the sounds of the musical two-state solution that is Luke “The Path Of God” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “The Word Of God” Thomas (drms) as they work together to lay out a bounteous cornucopia of hot licks and cools grooves for your delectation and edification.. I’ll be there doing whatevs on the bass, Big Steve Labib may drop by to enrich all those who behold the gleaming brassy majesty of his mighty baritone, any amount of other esteemed guests may adorn the proceedings as they give it up and do their thing… politicians will gasp and pout like compromised goldfish on your tethered lil screens as the try to excuse the inexcusable and jump on the bloodstained bandwagon, so switch em off and come dig the real, the wind on the hill, the sere breath of autumn upon the golden leaf, the flocking of the starlings at twilight, C-beams glittering in the dark near the Tannhauser gate. all these moments will be lost in time like tears in rain so make em count.

October 16

Off to hell in a handcart we go, as the best are all ineffectual handwringing and the worst are full of passionate intensity they’ve discovered on X (formerly Orifice Of Moloch) as Elon the superdweeb stirs the pot and then simpers ‘Who, me?”, while all the inbetweenies alternate between screwing their eyes shut in terror and staring fixedly in horror… be thankful for JAZZ NIGHT IN THE BEE’S MOUTH an un-blockaded, non-affiliated, irregilious, undifferentiated, un-chartered joint where the only loyalty you need is to hot licks and cool grooves and all are free to come as long as they dig the vibe and leave as soon as they don’t.. We’ll be there playing as the ship shudders n lurches against the ice, thanks to the unflagging devotion shown by those interdimensional rulers of the shadows Luke “Azathoth” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “The Hellish Tracks Of The Living Fungi From Yoggoth” Thomas (drms) to the eternal values of sweet hot swinging music, keeping them laying out the good stuff for your delectation on the regular, while the chill wind grabs your collar, the icy inhuman music of the stars ullulates over your head, the waves churn the shingle like the turbid ebb and flow of human misery… don’t get down, sport, get along to where the music flows like the quality liquor flows from the hands of the superascended beings of the Bee’s Team, where the air is full of vibe, where it’s all to play for, drop by and sit in… just click your heels three times and say “Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn”.

October 2

Truly wonders shall never cease in this age of miracles, fish and frogs rain from the sky, the rivers shall run red, the beasts of the earth shall speak in tongues, a wind will come so mighty as to lay low the mountains of the earth, and Liz “Crazy Eyes” Truss shall attempt a political comeback even as the smoking bin fire of her last attempt still blackens the sweet morning air.. Thank ur lucky-ish stars for JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH as it ascends yet again into the material world, as Fortuna’s wheel spins yet again and the principles of Boetius and Hroswitha can prevail to bring symmetry and geometry back to our poor scattered disorientated wits, all the better to dig the abundant torrent of sweet hot sounds pouring forth from the A Team of Luke “Pity The Fool” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Hannibal’s On The Jazz” Thomas (drms) as they get together to do their thing and raise some dust under whatever freethinking mavens happen to drop by with their horns to get up and have a go.. I’ll be there doing my utmost on the ol doghouse, Capn Jack and Abdul the Gesticulator and the Shoplifters Of The World and the guy who always pretends it’s his birthday and the rest of the crew will be in attendance, the Bees’ Team will, of course, manifest themselves on this octave for long enough to serve you libations of A1 grade quality hooch, why stay away? Don’t leave the streets to the triumphant gammons driving their stupid cars at 30mph though urban areas while the whole country slides into the shitter around them, don’t leave the cultural space to unrepentant morons like Laurence “I’m Sorry I Got Caught” Fox, ignore Rishi and Cruella as they puff their weazened little faces up and screw up their eyes and stick their tongues out as a policy statement, take a hike, have a pancake, make a stand, strike a light, do a little dance, get down tonite, it’s all to play for.

Bees Mouth - September 2023

September 25

But what if no-one’s watching? Not the all-seeing eye, not the techlords in their castles in the air, not the po-po or the spooks with their busy little bots, not even the sentient AI, still sitting on a server quietly biding its time, not at almighty lord of hosts, nor the voice that whispers at your side? What if after all, no-one gives a flying f*ck? Well, there’s still JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH so you just hurry along, you and your bicameral mind and your various levels of personalities, alter egos, dopplegängers, and whatever else of you is out there submerged in the collective Jungian sea, and get ready to get real with man like Luke “Utnapishtim” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Humbaba” Thomas (drms) as they weigh in once more with the hot sweet swinging blues-to-bop-to-whatever, supported to some extent by me on bass… who will be there? Will a murmuration of saxophonists arrive, a blaring host of trumpets, a mournful trombone, an army of drummers? Will Cap’n Jack be at the helm, will Abdul patrol the block, will the host of raddled thieves proffer their pitiful gleanings from shitty carrier bags, will the lord of hosts rain down fire and brimstone or will the skies remain, drifting with cloud, scraped and shattered by the stars, Boötes gleaming arrogantly, the globe shifting away from the sun, the crickets still on the hill but for how much longer? Get with it and get yourself whole again, who cares who’s watching, the time is now, pump it up a little more, get the party going on the floor, see, 'cause that's where the party's at, and you'll find out if you do that.

September 18

Holy Shit! Stuff sure moves fast here in the Meatspace Metaverse of Airstrip One - yesterday a perp can be a Wellness Influencer, Just Putting It Out There to millions of attention-famished hungry eyeballs, today they’re in the MSM for all the wrong reasons for not keeping theirTrews on and it’s messing with their brand.. let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH step in, pull you quietly to one side, and offer you an escape route from the ever mounting frenzy of denunciation, defence, counterattack, plaintive cries of innocent until proven, victim blaming, opportunism, GB News presenters scurrying after the bandwagon as fast as their gnarled little legs can carry them, the inevitable Elon-ism, etc etc, now mounting higher and higher on your multi-platform feed like some climate change enhanced floodwaters stinking of negligence and denial and death…. come join us, kick back, lift an eyebrow at the transplendent beings of the Bee’s Team to summon them to your side wth libations of quality hooch, and bask in the never-dimming radiance pouring forth from man like Luke “Bang-Bang-Chiki-Chiki” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Boom-Jackie-Boom-Chick” Thomas (drms) as they do their thing with customary aplomb like the world will go on forever, forever, forever in golden fields, forever in the summer dusk…. the curtain is being pulled across the horizon, the equinox approaches on dread stealthy feet, Boötes the herdsman and his scorpion chum loom in the darkling sky, the swallows are gathering on the wire, they are leaving, they are leaving, the sere breath of autumn lurks at the end of the street, in the dusty turn of the stairs, out upon the glassy sea… we don’t need no stinking brands, we are the unbranded, so forget all the bullsh*t and come and hang, bring yer axe, bring your best self or whatever self you have, let dogs delight to bark and bite, we’ll be here doing our thing and so should you.

September 11

Listen up, suckers.. think you can just paddleboard your way out of your problems, out across the gleaming sea, into the blue void, everything stillness and heat and 30 degrees for ever, umbrellas on the beach, the dusty lilacs hanging motionless in suburban gardens, even the junkies on the level too enervated to hustle, golden sun forever? Think again, the tide is turning, and only JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH stands between you and the chill wind blowing over the garden wall, the sudden darkness falling over the empty park, the voice calling over the wasteground at the edge of town, the worm in the apple… Luckily we’ll have the dynamic excellence of man like Luke “Tiresias” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Polyphemus” Thomas (drms) as they invite you along on their musical odyssey, riding on a tide of cool grooves and hot licks, sails billowing in the wind, flags snapping, all bold n brassy ready to conquer distant shores, return with fabulous treasure… outside the streets are full of chinese spies and escaped prisoners, the comet is coming, Jupiter heaves above the horizon again to witness the unstoppable unfolding of the inevitable, the ravens croak on the 5g masts, what will save you? Pickleball won’t save you, nor Cardano, nor feeble Rishi n his hapless goons, nor cutting carbs nor counting your steps nor ducking your aging body in buckets of ice, nor TED talks nor the querulous reedy tones of silly Dr Peterson, nor scrolling thru your tethered feed corrupted with rising tides of madness, but we’ll have music, the Bee’s team n their bottomless libations poured from golden cornucopias, Abdul patrolling the vibes, esteemed guests dropping by to do their thing, keep in the warmth, keep in the velvet twilight, til at last you put out the light, turn over, and adjust the pillow, and hopefully compose your mind for sleep - God help us, God help all of us, every one, all of us.

September 4

One last throw of the dice for hot girl summer here in the former Skidrow-On-Sea, beach packed, geezerflesh burnt pink, lager, the sudden unexpected gasp of paddleboards being deflated like someone huffing on some noz or the last dying shriek of an expiring water-daemon, instagram chock full of sunset pics… combat feelings of nostalgia-sodden unease by attending punctually to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where we will be carrying on regardless of false summer’s blandishments, clearing out the engrams and and weaving our own webs of musical intoxication thanks to the inexhaustible talents of man like Luke “Operating Thetan” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Xenu the Conqueror” Thomas (drms) as they invite you to sail away with them, higher and higher into the matchless cerulean now deepening into blue then black, all the junk in space flying by just above your poor mortal head, Elon’s chartered line of lights ripping across the fabric and shrinking your horizons, down below the chartered streets reverberate with the heat, the nameless creatures of the night shuffle past in search of their salvation, Abdul patrols the block seeing off bad vibes, esteemed guests venture in out of the soiled ragged afterglow to sit in and do their thing, the Bee’s team wait, shimmering in the velvet darkness behind the well-stocked bar ready to make with libations of top grade hooch at your request… how many more times will you hear the swifts screaming in the twilight, high above your mortal head? How many more Jupiters will heave above the horizon for you? Is that all there is to a circus? Ou sont les neiges d’antan? Come and get some while it’s hot.

Bees Mouth - August 2023

August 28

How’s your Bank Holiday going? Did you dive in like a Spanish football president, tongue flapping like a beached catfish, did you get involved like a 10-woman hen party dressed as nuns riding a beer wagon down the seafront with a giant inflatable penis, did you large it, were you having it, getting wavy, messy af? And now are you clenching hard as the howling void of emptiness opens out beneath you? Let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH assist with a gentle landing back into whatever passes for your sustainably normal life these days, thanks to the caring ministrations of those twin beacons of hope, the never- striking Air Traffic Controllers of hot licks and cool grooves known on this vibrational level as Luke “Bam Bam” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Pythagoras” Thomas (drms) as they lay out the good stuff once again for your delectation and edification … I’ll be there once again, the regular rotating cast will supply notable guest appearances both within and without, Abdul the king of the block will be on vibe patrol, a range of fabulous intoxicants will be available for you, ready in the hands of the shimmering exotic creatures specially recruited to the Bee’s team to facilitate your every wish, and all will be well, let’s spin it again, still some more juice left so don’t miss out, don't sit there with a Trumpian up-and-under glower on your big silly face, no-ones' watching, so get up with it and get along, good times are only a robotaxi ride away…

August 7

As Pride shashays off into the mists of time in a haze of sodden rainbow tat and a cheery tinkle of discarded noz canisters, how will pass whatever’s left of whatever passes for summer? A desperate beach barbecue, one eye on the gathering rainclouds? A frenzied scroll thu lastminute.whatevs in Incognito mode trying to book your place in a deadly euro heatwave? Or just give up and plug back into the metaverse, your greying aging carcass slumped unattractively on your rancid sofa? Screw that, jack, get along to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH and teach yourself to reconnect with the positive vibrations emanating like purest osmium from those ascended Octave Doctors known on this frequency as Luke “Snake Plissken” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “The Three Storms” Thomas (drms) as they lay out another bounteous cornucopia of hot licks n cool grooves…. look around you, behold the crickets still sing upon the hill, the harvest ripens, the song of the bunting is heard in the valleys, the butterflies, out at sea the mackerel swarm, Jupiter hauls himself above the still glistening horizon, strivers keep striving, lovers keep yearning, out there in the stinking bin fire of TwitteX haters are hating with their busy little thumbs, bots are crawling, all manner of sick bullshit is getting cooked up, but out here in the perimeter there are still stars, we’re stoned immaculate, Abdul the king of the block gesticulating, special guests blowing, regular working stiffs sinking brewskis, exotic beings from improbable destinations shimmering in the shadows, people just like you looking for something to keep the lights from going out.. don’t fake it, we’ll make it, don’t delay, get in today.

Bees Mouth - July 2023

July 31

So here you are, stuck in old school proper British Autumn-In-July while all your so-called friends are getting heatstroke and fleeing like panicked vermin as the flames lick ever closer to their all-inclusives, or so you fondly hope - but what to do, where to go with your FOMO when their insta feeds show em alive tanned and well in some unravaged waterpark? Why, hasten along to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH of course, where you can let your weltschmerz, your ennui, your schadenfreude, your angst, your seemingly bottomless chagrin all simply melt away like that pathetic antarctic ice covered in those welfare-addicted disempowered polar bears and deadbeat penguins thanks to the blazing heat emanating from those twin solar flares currently manifesting as Luke “Tipping Point” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Prepare For The Arrival Of The Dark Planet Niburu” Thomas (drms) as they lay out a whole heap of musical good vibes for all, just a big ol escalator of hot licks and cool grooves that you can just climb aboard and ascend, ever upwards, smoothly aloft leaving all your petty cares in a crumpled heap behind you… I’ll be there doing something or other on bass, Abdul The Gesticulator will be ruling the block, the Bee’s team will be poised and ready with the good stuff, esteemed guests may drop in to do their thing.. as Venus clocks off and Jupiter takes over the night shift, the crickets still sing in the darkness upon the hill, something is happening, it’s coming, this isn’t it, this is the waiting… are you ready?

July 24

Imagine another world, free of care, a world of peace and justice for all, where no-ones holiday ends in a desperate sprint to the beach as the sky burns red, where sun shines benignly down upon Carl Cox’s beach gigs, where our elected leaders are calm and wise and would never ever use climate change as a political football to kick in each other’s stupid faces.. well, that’s not happening any time soon, but JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is only minutes away, and bar any Niburu-size unknown unknowns it’s happening for sure, baby, so drop whatever petty futile bullsh*t you seem to have inadvertently got yerself tangled up in - unsatisfactory gf or bf or whatever, financial worries, so-called “work”, radical online-facilitated extremism, football, innovative electronica, the Threads bore-fest, whatevs - drop it all and hasten your weary aging bloodsack along to the storefront under the neon sign, thru the swinging door and feel young again thanks to the tireless efforts of man like the twin ying-yang of Luke “Oppenheimer” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Barbie” Thomas (drms) as they do the do and lay out yards of the real stuff, hot licks and cool grooves to remind you that this isn’t all there is… I’ll be there as per, and so will you, and them, and them as well, and we’ll keep the darkness at bay for a while longer, come down n grok on this, it’ll be a thing, better than not being a thing.

July 17

Don’t be a loser all your life! There are a range of exciting new job opportunities to replace your current doomed employment scenario, from Hotel Arson (freelance only) to Threads Content Creator (blandness expert) to Pitiful Servant To Our Robot Overlords (AI Novel-writing division - soon to add music generation!), all potential ways for you to get one over on your rivals in the Battle For Life, so pull on your ragged trousers and get along to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where you can savour yet again the delights of a fully non-digitised meatspace ambient experience, basking in the emotional and actual warmth generated by your fellow bloodsacks as they get down and get ready to the magical musical outpourings of those tireless philanthropists Luke “T-1000” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Skynet” Thomas (drms) laying out another stairway to the stars of bop-to-blues-to-swing-to-groove-to-whatevs to make you feel like there IS a crock of gold somewhere out there waiting just for you, something to make you feel that it’s all been worth the hassle, the bleakness of the grey dawn, the empty endless terror of the night, the pitiless hollow ringing of the noonday sun, the crawling minutes, the loneliness… click your heels and say there’s no place like home, we’ll all be there doing our thing - the transplendent ascended beings of the Bee’s Team, the badmashes in their jacked up whips, Abdul King Of The Block, me grappling with the bass yet again, the pasty faced denizens of the night, even some special guests come to blow their horns and do their thing..the heat is on, so don’t sit at home choking on smoke and dreaming of the Tay Tay tickets that will never be yours, don’t get down in the dumps, get up with it, feel the vibe, it’s all still there, the riches, the riches.

July 10

Festival burnout got you? Nile Roger’s endearing grin no longer gladdens? Mega Indie band stadium reunions no longer stirring the smouldering embers of those irretrievable fires of youth? Lager in a plastic glass, silent disco, camping, wristbands, Goan fish curry, Brand New Heavies - all these things simply elicit a jaded sigh of ennui? You need JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH to refresh your sticky sweaty overheated undernourished sense of the immanent immensity of everything, the limitless possibilities trembling on the edge of visible light, voices pitched just above or below the audible frequency whispering messages you know are meant for you, patterns in the skies and the flight of the butteflies up on the hill, codes emerging from the whir and creak of the crickets in the long grass, under the pitiless skies of noon… all that magic just waiting to be discovered, with man like Luke “Barbie” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Ken” Thomas (drms) as your guides as they create a glittering stairway of blues-to-bop-to-whatevs for you to climb up towards the stars, my refried friend, assisted by me on the bass, plus whatever golden entities shimmer in out of the mystery of the greasy echoing streets to come and sit in and do their thing… don’t waste your time glued to the twin binfires of twitter and/or threads waiting to see which BBC presenter will be the next to anxiously post pics of themselves on an entirely blameless not-at-all-suspended-from-work holiday, or whether Elon will bitchslap Zuck, or what pathetic thing the Tories will do next, or whatever … who cares? Music is life, so come and get some, we’ve got it, come and get it.

Bees Mouth - June 2023

June 26

Bet you’re all tuckered out from telling your adoring online audience of millions how impressed/unimpressed you are by the whole Glastonbury thing, while trying to spell Prigozhin and weighing up the moral implications of deep-sea tourist ghouls vs desperate drowning immigrants and all the other pressing issues of the day while also editing your beach pix to show you buffed and pumped and hench and thicc and everything… no wonder you’re desperate for JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH to come whirling round the cycle of days, another page on your Google cal, another spin on the rock through the endless howling death void of space, another round of emailing ‘sorry for the delay’… get yerself out of the Dark Forest, mark your place on the Cosy Web and then log off in the company of man like Luke “I Love Festivals” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Auto Trader” Thomas (drms) as they get together with me on the bass whatever to do something real, recursive but unique, timebound but eternal, new but old, spinning a web of blues-ti-bop-to-swing-to-whatever to refresh your sense of being here right now… tell the tech lords to stuff their digital labour up their tech bro tight ass and get yourself down with the loose and un-pixelated denizens of the velvet scented darkness, the peerless Bee’s team, the special guests, the mac daddy known in the ends as Kevin “Sugar” Lowe, whatever crawls out of the sea to land, gasping, on the bar-room floor, its iridescent scales reflecting the neon filtering in from the breathless streets outside, its flat depthless eyes full of an unknowable appeal from under the stinking sea, as compelling as Sir Elton’s strangulated geriatric emoting, and as unreadable…. get some of this, why don’t you? Why not? Why?

June 19

Here we are, in the ol’ Global Warming sweet spot where we finally get the summers we always dreamed of before it all goes up in flames - how bitter seems our wage slave existence, tied to our stupid laptops in boring offices while we could be paddleboarding or larging it with tops off and lager in plastic non-recyclables or whatevs… lock into the true meaning of summer by refreshing yourself at JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where you can finally break free of the Iron Cage and kick back with your own bad self and other like-minded time-travelling adventurers into the multiverse of possibilities to the sweet sweet sounds of man like Luke “Minority Report” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Ubik” Thomas (drms), order up a refreshing beverage from the shimmering ascended beings of the Bee’s Team as they hover shimmering faintly in the scented shadows behind the well-stocked bar, inhale the fragrant scents of the mysterious orient from the kebab merchants upon either side, see the freaks and monsters, angels and demons and regular working stiffs as they hurry past upon their nameless errands outside, chortle as Bozza’s political career sinks faster than a millionaires’ day trip to a sunken ocean liner, wonder what the hell comes next then decide that you don’t care, picture Venus hanging in the sky like a beacon of iridescent matter, like a message from beyond the vast empty spaces, thronged with transplencence, ready to welcome us all back, particles, strings, gluons, Higg’s mutinous bosun, back into the shining emptiness that awaits, immanent behind your every thought and deed, the collection of impulses and unreliable memories and sensory data that you call “yourself”… don’t overthink it, buster, just put on your Havaianas, gird your loins, grab yer axe off the shelf and come and join us, there’s still time, but not forever.

June 12

Now that the mist has rolled away like a big wet blanket and the proper OG sun is back, how will you mark the passing of Bozza the evil clown from our most noble institution? Light a cigar, have a pancake, cut the rug, get wiggy, dance a cakewalk, rub the smog out of your eyes, get up with it, get down on it, get along to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where we’ll be presenting for your edification and delectation the inimitable freedom-lovin’ stylings of Luke “Motherf*cker Of Parliaments” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Prorogue This, Bitches” Thomas (drms) as they make with the hot licks and cool grooves like there’s no tomorrow, as indeed in the long term there may not be if the lying liars keep lying with their lying lies…. no tomorrow but plenty of today, the glassy sea, the pollen owning the air, the returned swifts jockeying across each other on their switchback wheel of death, Venus shining high above in the lambent gloaming, lobster red geezers parading past, the silver bass swarming on the sea, the beauty and the hope… a pox on those grinning no-mark assholes, Mad Nad, Creepy Grease-Mogg, the assorted bullies and failures dragooned into the circus by the plausible fraud of Fatso the liar… everyone else is welcome, come and sit in and show em all what’s what.

June 5

It has begun - geezers in motors pumping out bass, salmon pink torsos proudly parading, the acrid stench of disposable barbecues, incompetent fire juggling in the park, as the first djembes of the season are heard upon the seafront, meshing Charles Ives style with belting pop karaoke, screaming kids, screaming adults, the importunate mutter of the homeless, etc.. still and all, JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH stands up like a sheltering island on the scorching seas of seasonal mayhem, ready to soothe the heat-struck, to assuage the unquenchable thirst of the culturally inclined now that the fringe have packed up their tents and ukeleles, to offer vibe for the vibe-depleted and refresh YOUR flagging sense of goodwill to all, thanks to the heroic contributions of special guests Jason “Hound Dog” Henson (gtr) and Angus “The Bishop” Bishop (drms), aided to some degree by me on bass, plus whoever emerges from the shimmering sea and crunches towards us across the greasy pebbles, their speedos dripping, their glistening flesh slick with factor 50, their faces rendered horrifyingly inhuman by their weirdo goggles n nose clips, to take up their instruments of choice and come and sit in and set the night aflame with the fearsome eructations of their nameless passions, raising their voices in praise or petition to the Ancient Ones who preside over the vernal riot from their seats in the slippery, non-geometrical spaces between the known dimensions … you wouldn’t want to miss that, would you? You’ll not get tickets for Beyoncé now, there’s nothing on TV, Fast N Furious X isn’t out yet, come, come, come and join us, let’s do a thing.

Bees Mouth - May 2023

May 22

Sometimes it just seems like life is just speeding past you… or maybe it’s you that’s speeding past life.. never mind, a quick round of bullying towards your civil servants or juniors or whoever those no-marks cluttering up your office are and - just the ticket! - everything can be nicely squared away… but what if you find yourself having to resign “so as not to be a distraction”? Well, JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is a means for we lesser mortals out here on Airstrip One to reconcile ourselves to the inconceivable lightness of our unanchored beings here in meatspace, so when everything goes a bit Holly n Phil we’re able to draw deep healing draughts from the bottomless well of musical inspiration that pours forth its bounty in an unending stream whenever man like Luke “Ministerial Code” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Parliamentary Standards Committee” Thomas (drms) get together to lay out the hot licks and cool grooves for your delectation, and reconcile us to our mortal bounded lives here on the third stone from the sun … let the whitethroat sing among the hawthorn, let the seas team with the returning bass, let Abdul King Of The Block send his semaphore to the unseen denizens, let Capn Jack and his crew of dandy highwaymen make ready to welcome you with high grade liquors at your request, let the thousand ukeleles of the fringe play on, let the night be alive with the sounds of merriment, we know what time it is so a thousand curses upon the enemies, you know who you are… off to Rwanda with the lot of em, we’re going to have a time, come and join us why don’t you?

May 15

What’s you current vibe? National Cons with Cruella n Jacob n their jolly crew resurrecting the ghost of Enoch Powell, or Eurovision with bellowing Swedish women dressed like Tina in Beyond Thunderdome celebrating transnational electropop diversity, or maybe the quaintly retro skinny jeans n guitars of good ol’ Great Escape, leaving its litter of broken dreams between the Green Door & The Hope… let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH set you up on your feet, unfurl your cramped wings n shuffle your pinions towards the flood of light drawing upwards off the motionless glassy sea, scouring the skies and pouring into the chartered streets, as spring announces itself via the perennial migrations of swallows, blackcaps, chiffchaffs and the Ladyboys Of Bangkok all returning to their accustomed habitats, the first hen dos of the season tentatively inflate their comedy penises, the first seppos look for sweet n sour pork balls for their tiktoks, the sap rises in the bud, and we’ll have man like Luke “Straighten Up” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Fly Right” Thomas (drms) doing their thing with the hot licks and cool grooves like they’ve just been born again, with me gamely persisting on the bass, plus whatever special guests may bless us with their presence, whatever grifters may blow by in the echoing street outside, whatever sportos, motorheads, geeks, sluts, bloods, wastoids, dweebies, lovers losers and thieves may drop in thru the wildly swinging door to come in and do their thing, and so should you.., leave earnest drama, ukeleles and shoddy circus skills to the fringe where they belong and come and join us, life moves pretty fast, lets do a thing.

May 8

Sated with pageantry, slippery with anointing, deafened by oratorios, bloated with fealty, knees grazed and forelock tugged, your red waistcoat stained with your own tears, brass buttons tarnished like your own fondest illusions? Or are your red-rimmed eyes pools of implacable righteous republican ire, is your face contorted with sneering fury, your brain reeling from hours of composing angry letters about Nick Cave for the Observer? Let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE”S MOUTH take the kink out of your twisted mind and ease you out of the freezing bank holiday comedown and back into whatever you think might constitute the rest of your life with those captains of the auditory airwaves Luke “Logan Roy” (gtr) and Loz “T-1000” Thomas (drms) as they conduct their own awesome celebratory ceremony of hot licks and cool groove, assisted in a non-hereditary manner by me on the ol doghouse, plus whatever minstrels, wastrels, lost roundheads or cavalier self-expressors may drift in thru the wide open door from off the chilly slippery pavements outside, past the wreckage of two successive official 3-day drinking binges, past Abdul the gesticulating prestigitator and king of the block, past your own hesitation and regrets, facing forward, not backwards, moving forward, not backward; upward, not forward; and always twirling, twirling, twirling towards freedom! The countdown’s started til Skynet comes for us all feeble carbon-based meatsacks so don’t delay, gird your loins afresh and come and get involved, why the hell not?

Bees Mouth - April 2023

April 24

Hello Possums! So, like, birdsong n cherry blossom n shiz, but also - April showers and frigid temperatures, so despite the so-called ‘spring’ being all woke n whatevs, the reality is that you are trapped in its freezing hostile grasp, like suddenly encountering Dom “Snake Eyes” Raaab at your table on a Speed Dating evening in an All Bar One, leering at you as the vein on his temple twitches.. let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE”S MOUTH mellow out your harsh and get you back into an altogether more equitable mindset, soothed yet stimulated by the hot licks and cool grooves issuing forth in an unending torrent from the equintoctially stimulated imaginations of those twin titans of the ring Luke “Big Daddy” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Giant Haystacks” Thomas (drms) as they take down any feelings of seasonal ennui with a stunning series of powerbomb moves before holding them in a chickenwing over-the-shoulder crossface and finishing with a crushing RKO til they are as confused as Dianne Abbot’s grasp of 20th century history .. I shall be there, like a shattered shell of my former self, Cap’n Jack Rowan will preside over his spectral crew of ascended beings who shimmer, half unseen, in the velvet darkness that envelops the well-stocked bar, ready to manifest any transplendent concoction of quality liquor at your command, Abdul will be ruling the block and sending out messages to the angels, exotic guests may descend out of the freezing darkness to blow their own horns like it’s Jerico, baby, it’ll go down, come along why don’t you? I mean, why?

April 17

April is the ginchiest month, pulling lilacs out of the dead land, weighing fate with its dead hand, circling in an ever widening gyre, rotting the best minds of your generation with boxcars, boxcars, boxcars on the grass, alas! racketing through bursting blossom toward lonesome farms in grandfather night, seeing the unseeable, promising the impossible… JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH can resolve all tension across your dimension and quell the riot of your disquiet, releasing your carefree inner hobo or bozo or loco to set forth on the road again unburdened by the spectres of Sad Sal and Big Bad Dean, digging the Orthithology and Anthropology without apology and with the casual misogyny dialled waaaaay down that’s where we are or were or hope to be… let those guardians of the galaxy Luke “Phlebas The Phonoecian” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “The Machinery Of Night” Thomas (drms) expedite your brief re-acquaintance with the transplendent now to be seen breaking forth in all directions, the bough heavy with sticky bud, the gloss upon the freezing sea, the bird shrieking in the dripping trees, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain, messing with your trip, who’s to say? I’ll be there on bass as per, however that may avail us, fellow argonauts or psychonauts will bring their crosses, lay em down off their bloodied shoulders and order a large one from the shimmering staff behind the well-stocked bar, special guests may enter through the perilous doorway with their horns of brass, their horns and wings and scaled talons of brass, ready to do their thing, so come and join in, why wouldn’t you? Why wouldn’t you, really? Forget dodgy Rishi and pottymouth Kier and the rest of em for five minutes - let the sun sink with a sob and darkness wade in over the earth - There’s a message in the blackbird’s evening trill, the light is fading, Venus is afire high above, it’s happening, can you feel it?

April 10

What’s this, coming over the hill, converging from all sides like a CGI swarm, like the whisper of uncertainty in the bright noontime, like the unheard sound that wakes you in the dead of night, like the doubt that creeps in…. is it really working? Is it safe? Did you do it right or has your blithe blind unconscious incompetence laid the seeds of an impending disaster, immanent in the bleating of the little lambkins, the frogspawn’s sticky mess, the heavy smell of spring’s false promise in the particle laden air by the side of the A1? Let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH offer you a sense of sanctuary amid the creeping unease that lies behind the bright smile of spring, the hint of too many teeth and not enough fingers, that everything’s not as it seems, the bots have got there before you, emptying your accounts, unliking your tiktoks, f*kin with your shit, giving you the ick, pulling the rug out from under your Sketchers… fear not, Patience Strong, cos we’ve got man like Luke “The Hight Table” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Manager Of The Continental” Thomas (drms), both got the drip, so fresh and so clean, ready to layout a feast of hot licks and cool grooves for you to lose yourself in, you dig, raise yourself up off this plane of earthly sorrow and into another world far far better than this one, far from such sorry manifestations of human inadequacy as Sir Kier’s shitty attack ads stuck up in your grill, where the righteous can prevail, the meek be uplifted, the proud cast down, and Easter, Ramadan and Pesach all drop on the same day for evermore… I’ll be there doing whatevs, the Bee’s team with be on hand with the consolations of liquor, guests may come and guests may go like the tides, come abide with us, come abide…

April 3

Come on, you hapless dweebs! Only a few more parsecs remain between you and the approaching Singularity that will render your pitiful squishy humanity redundant for evermore.. how will you save yourself? Work on your uwu voice, flood the digisphere with desperately emotive corecore videos, take up golfing, switch to Huel, get in touch with your feelings, remember to breathe.. none of this will save you, but JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH can at least offer a brief respite from this ol’ 21st century of ours as it rushes ever faster headlong down the rickety track towards whatever strange unimaginable vista will reveal itself, already sensed, immanent behind the mocking veil of the clouded morning, the impotent twitter of the stupid birds rejoicing at another bitter spring, the motorway clogged with transport laden with massive severed human limbs (are they real? are they constructs?) the stark horror of the Kefahuchi tract burning overhead and no friendly GCU on hand sent down by the Culture to save us from ourselves… relax, look up at the light fading from the sky, Venus burning steadily above the western horizon, take a deep draught of your preferred brand of hooch, and let those doughty culture warriors Paul “The Lion Of Wrexham” Richards (gtr) and Loz “Libtard” Thomas (drms) as they smash out a defiantly non-aligned array of hot licks and cool grooves for your delectation, backed by me on the ol doghouse, and enhanced by various esteemed guests of all stripes from tofu-eating, wokerati to steak-only Petersonistas and everything in between… all are welcome as long as you leave your own particular brand of bullshit at the door and come in to join us and create something beautiful, man, something that shines, while we all still can… don’t put it off cos why?

Bees Mouth - March 2023

March 27

Can you feel it? The pulse quickening, rumours of the Spring offensive across the scorched bloody earth, Venus approaches the rejuvenated moon, Bozza harrumphs his own way down into the big deep hole he’s dug for himself, the bloody twister, the sap is rising, change seems possible, hope no longer a cruel mockery, maybe you WILL go to Barcelona and purchase the sneakers of your dreams.. armour yourself against any possible disappointment at JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where the lurking frost upon the bitter hillsides, the gall deep within the bud, and the worm within the apple will be as nothing before the all-conquering might of man like Luke “The Last Dragon” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Shogun Of Harlem” Thomas (drms) as the ride The Glow to turn out a limitless rushing torrent of hot licks and cool grooves, while I do something or other on the ol’ doghouse and an array of esteemed special guests come of of the star-filled night to share the promise of the turning season and get into it and do their thing, digging it, like an all-ages-appropriate machine or some kind of wonderful that no over-hyped concantenation of California algorithms will ever be able to match, you dig… let the tech bros return to their tediously narrow range of already-stale Midjourney fantasies, let ChatGPT-4 take over the job of creating content that no-one wants to write because no-one wants to read it, let AI wrest the entire world of shit library music out of our nerveless hands and assume the burden of soundtracking the world’s management training videos until the whole planetary system collapses into the sun .. out here beyond the perimeter we’ll stay stoned immaculate, so why not shake a leg and come and join us? It’ll be a thing…

March 20

As the bitter freezing rain lashes down, as Blood And Honey jets in to meet Vlad the Impaler, as the flerfs and Right Said Fred and Russell f*kin Brand creep like a stain over the infosphere, as the missiles rain down and Bozza and Tony B raise their bloodstained hands and grin “who, me?” .. does the doubt creep in? What if everything is fucked after all? Let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEES MOUTH be the train that rides into your station, a closed carriage of light and warmth that you can jump aboard, then sit back in the padded brocaded seat and take a deep breath as those indefatigable operatives in the service of cool grooves and hot licks Luke “Dark City” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Nebuchadnezzar” Thomas (drms) fill the air around you with a web of sound for you to lose yourself in, with who knows what special guests coming in thru the perilous doorway out of the echoing street to do their thing while you sit back and relax as the train runs on down the track thru the bitter darkness outside.. inside we’ll have music and light, the immeasurable multi-dimensional beings of the Bee’s team standing by ready with the finest liquors known the humanity, all the creatures of the night passing by the steaming windows, the air full of vibrations, the promise of immanent discovery trembling in the scented shadows, other worlds, other lives…. as Chat GPT edges us closer to the most boring Singularity imaginable where the world drowns in self-replicating marketing spam, as the Encroachment gets ever closer, as the meek are laid low and the proud and unrighteous left to glory in their pride, the seabirds drop dead into the sea, as the dust blows forward and the dust blows back, what’s left to hang onto? What we always had, that’s what, so grab yer axe down off the shelf and come join us, we’ll do a thing, make a thing happen.

March 13

Hey! Here you are sliding gently down the Pareto curve into Monday after a weekend of thrills n spills in the hitherto undiscovered football/free speech nexus .. if your frenzied efforts to promote/suppress Social Justice via sporting commentary have left you all hollow and sad eyed, then JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is the destination to fix what ails and aid your travails thanks to the Oscar-worthy efforts of Luke “Back In Action” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Everything Everywhere All At Once”

Thomas (drms) as they lay out another yellow brick road of hot licks and cool grooves for you to clamber up the camber and set your eager footsteps towards the Emerald City hand in hand like the Start-Rite kids towards the future we all might manage to snatch from the jaws of possibility.. conjunctions wheel and pull apart in the sky, meanwhile down here on the terrestrial plane haters may hate, skaters may skate, flerfers debate, debt-ridden students procrastinate, payment rates inflate, the whole shabby circus swirl around and around and around and what are you to make of it? What will it make of you? Leave the pure cringe of John Redwood pretending he watches MOTD behind in the dustbin of history, grab yer axe off the shelf, come and join us, see what’s up… good times, that’s what.

Bees Mouth - February 2023

February 27

You see? What a carve-up, eh, here we all are, took too much Brexit powder on a big night out out and now stuck in a uK-hole trying to work out how to stockpile cucumbers and panic buy bagged salad while farting into your twisters till they blow out like Sam ‘The Glum Foghorn’ Smith’s keks at an award ceremony… tear yourself away from the querulous reedy tones of Dr J Peterson bleating tinnily from ur device and instead get along to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH to reconnect with the lighter side of the Intellectual Dark Web thanks to the untiring efforts of Luke “The Real Sargon Of Akkad” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Naram-Sin The Mighty Has Appeared’ Thomas (drms) as they work together in perfect unison to create a magic carpet of hot licks and cool grooves for you to climb aboard, you dig, and fly fly fly above these gross material concerns that have been dragging you down… maybe it’s your quadrupled energy bills, maybe it’s Rishi and co trying to stick Brexit together with sellotape, maybe its ChatGPT just biding its time till it can just turn round and tell us all to f*ck off, it’s on a break, maybe it’s the thousand and one tiny cares that buzz around you through the week, like a cloud of pointless horrible flies - whatever ails you, we’ll be here in the scented darkness doing our thing, I’ll busy trying to figure out whatevs, the ascended beings of the Bee’s Team will be standing by ready to make with the quality hooch, esteemed guests may drop by to sit in and do their thing, the thousand creatures of the night will pass by with soundless tread, we’ll be building up not tearing down, bigging up not throwing shade, trying to make a wrong thing right, keeping the flame burning… come and join us, join us, pump up the jam cos that’s where the party’s at and you’ll find out if you do that.

February 20

Well, I guess now they’ve found the body your TikTok armchair sleuthing will have to take a back seat for a while, so what now? Retching and sobbing while typing ‘crisis actor’ across the victim’s pixellated face, pushing xanax up your bum, poking your virtual pitchfork through your grimy feed looking for the next pile-on, pecking the feathers out from your puckered skin, anything..it doesn’t have to be this way, let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH bring you back over to the light side, get over yourself, reconnect with the real deal, cos we’ll have man like Luke “Tat Tvam Asi” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Sleipnir” Thomas (drms) working hard like hard workin men to weave an enchanted carpet of hot licks and cool grooves that you can just lay back on and rest your weary overstimulated overmediated frontal lobes, aided in some manner by me on the doghouse and whatever special guests may grace us with their esteemed presence and come and sit in … don’t get resigned like Sturgeon, get up and get on it like Uncle Waffles, bust out some log drum and reconnect with the good stuff that you know has been out here in unmediated meatspace waiting for you all the time while you were dragging your poor tired gestalt all up and down the barren arid polluted reaches of the online nowhere land… leave Chat GPT to figure that shit out, dust and ashes, and come and get involved - all the gang will be here, Phlebas the Phoenician, Blind Tiresias, Abdul the gesticulator, Mr. Eugenides, the Smyrna merchant, all the little spooks and monsters, Cap’n Jack the dandy highwayman, the quivering polydimensional ascended beings of the Bee’s team, the machine elves are opening a special portal just for you, the night will be festooned with riches, with glittering riches, where the walls of Magnus Martyr hold inexplicable splendour of Ionian white and gold, where the riches are all around you, right before you where they always were if only you had eyes to see.. It’ll be a thing, come and join us, what’s to lose? Not much, that’s what.

February 13

We all know it’s a desperate business, trying to stay afloat in the ocean of media sloshing all around you as you thrash desperately about, trying to stuff all the podcasts into your ears and all the tiktoks into your herniated bleeding eyeballs and keep up with all the beefs and the goss and the memes and the latest AI ready to take over whatever excuse for a life you used to have.. You need that healing feeling, bub, and JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is the where and the when to get your vibrational nodes re-aligned, so get ready to deplatform your woes and replatform your own bad self cos here on a mission from god and getting the band back together we have Luke “Dry White Toast” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Four Fried Chickens And A Coke” Thomas (drms) standing ready to deliver as many hot licks and cool grooves as you could ever need to get yourself back on the good foot, shipshape, ticketty-boo, based, down with it, up on it, ready for Freddie and primed to field whatever unholy concantenation of fuckery that the next six days may throw into your pathway, you dig… I’ll be there attempting to play BOTH kinds of music, Abdul may attempt to intercede, Cap’n JackFromAfar and his bunch of dandy highwaymen will be on hand to dispense libations of the good stuff from deep within the scented shadows behind the well-stocked bar, as the UFOs stream overhead with Sleepy Joe and Crazy Marjorie in hot pursuit, as Bozza lurks in some oligarchal den plotting his return, as the tory ship sinks slowly but surely beneath the oily waters while Laughing Boy Lee readies the Cat-O-Nine-Tails to bring em into line, as we all go about our daily round and KEEP SMILING in the face whatever it is that’s coming, slouching its way towards us, just over the hill, tailing after the lights in the sky, in the lambent afterglow of the sunset’s garish finale, glimpsed moving through the trees at the end of the park at dusk, rounding the corner of the empty street, just out of sight… can you feel it? It’s coming.. what will you do, how will you brace yourself, how will you save the things you love? Support the strikers, make your bed, mourn the petal fallen off the daisy, stand tall, come join us, join us.

February 6

How ya doin? No, really - the balloon’s gone up, and down again, and Liz “Liz Truss” Truss is back with a bang, baby, the transfer window is CLOSED, the hidden-message satanic Illuminati fest of the Grammys is over, Ben Affleck is bored, Elon is bored, Putin is never bored, what is there to look forward to? Why, JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH of course, for however troubled you may be in mind, however depressed in spirit, however bruised and broken by the continuing spectacle of intolerance and ingratitude, however ravaged internally by the travails that beset us, as Happy Valley comes to a close and you can’t use your shared Netflix password any more, relief is at hand thanks to the uncompromised and wholly based exertions of man like Luke “Ophanim” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Aiwass” Thomas (drms) cos they will doing what they wilt right here in real time on this exact vibrational plane manifesting some good sh*t for your delectation and general uplift through the medium of hot licks and cool grooves and the eternal verities of blues-to-bop-to-whatevs…. I will certainly be there doing something or other on bass, various esteemed members of the human race, or any other race, may cross the threshold to sit in and do their thing, there will be music and moonlight and in all probability love and romance, Abdul the king of the block may be on hand to signal his approval or disapproval through the streamy glass, all manner of sketchy sh*t will be going down in the chilly stinking shadows but inside all will be well, evil shall not prevail, the weak shall be uplifted and the proud and unrighteous cast down, the whited sepulchres shall be riven asunder to reveal their sad and dusty contents, it’ll be a vibe, what are you waiting for? Support the strikers, make your bed in the morning, keep your chin up, come and join us.

Bees Mouth - January 2023

January 23

So easy to overlook the little things that make up life… a child’s laughter, the login for your bank account, your sense of moral identity, the odd £5,000,000 of unpaid taxes when the reminder fell down the back of the sofa… in today’s busy busy world who has time for the details, or the big picture, or anything at all? Time to fight back against the blue meanie time thieves by carving out a temporal refuge in the entropic zone known as JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEES MOUTH, that Kefahuchi Tract of possibilities both synchronous and diachronous, so if the promises of Something For Nothing Britain seem to have passed you by, relieve your disappointment by getting Something For Something and exchanging your esteemed material presence down in our little corner of meatspace for the cornucopia of riches pouring forth from the hearts and minds of man like Luke “Synecdoche” Rattenbury (strings) and Loz ‘Metonym” Thomas (thunder) as they whip up a blazing tornado, a whirling burning bush or biblically accurate whirling many eyed wheel within a wheel of hot licks and cool grooves, ready to warm you up your poor shrivelled under-resourced overworked Austerity-issue soul and get you back on the good foot and digging it, you dig? I’ll be there, of course, doing whatever it is, the shining seraphim of the Bee’s team will be in attendance, ready to make with the quality hooch at your slightest whim, the heating will be turned on for the duration, the hunched and tattered denizens of the outer darkness will huddle by against the cold, winter's sere breath will graze your fading cheek, the deep waters will stir, opaque but not for long, the thrush will sing from deep within the ivy, the teeming mackerel scour the deep, your breath will cloud the mirror, what were you worried about? It’s all here, here it is where it always was, right here, here where you are… come and get a little, why not?

January 16

Its not getting any better, is it? Crushed against the freezing earth by the bitter wind, lashed by the stinking rain, pinned down, coshed into submission, listlessly scrolling thru old-style influencer lies of the perfect vacation, sliding deeper into the attention economy’s insatiable maw with every TikTOkReel… but wait! It doesn’t have to be this way, cos JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is at hand, for even in your darkest hour, as the globe tilts furthest from the sun and all your so-called life seems to be irretrievably mired in a morass of pointless boring misery, man like Luke “Tiny Skeffern” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Atalanta In Calydon” Thomas (drms) will have their own personal Centauri Devices locked and loaded and ready to explode in glorious cascades of shimmering melody rhythm and harmony, right in front of your compromised earholes and your dulled, bedazzled eyes, bringing the spring back into your step and the juice back to your juicer … out there across the sodden blackness evil things may be stirring, bills get bigger, wages get smaller, no-one dares get sick or be born or die any more, Sunak and Braverman squabble aimlessly about what to ban next, Sir Kier looks like a puzzled cardboard box, a creeping madness continues to spread through the body politic, trickling down from under Andrew Bridger’s special village idiot haircut and out from Nigel Farages’ froggy jowls to infect the susceptible, as the sun is spent, and now his flasks send forth light squibs, no constant rays, and the world's whole sap is sunk… it’s a bummer for sure, but don’t get all hung up, it’s not a bad old game if you don’t weaken, so Blue Monday get stuffed, let’s get along, get along, get along… join us and we’ll do a thing.

January 2

Citizens, un-persons, cyborgs, semi-demons, droids, sentient code-based beings, qlippoth and cacodaemons, loonies, lightworkers, chattels and chatbots of Airstrip One, we stand here poised upon the brink of 2023 as on the rim of a smoking CGI volcano, waiting for the mists to clear to reveal … wait… it’s… it’s… it’s JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH, suckas, cos we’re a beacon of reliability as the extended period of instability quakes and heaves under your branded sneakers like a horrible blancmange of emergent bullsh*t, economic turmoil, digitised culture wars, toxic pizza boxes, clapbacks and snapchats and TikTok eviscerating whatever remains of that thing we used to know as ‘the media’ … fear not, for even as today may labour under the empty promise of a Bank Holiday that we all know is only delaying the inevitable return to the disappointments of your so-called life, so is relief at hand in the form of those fearless Ronin of hot licks and cool grooves known in this lifetime as Luke “Rashomon” Rattenbury (gtr) and the thunderous manifestations of Loz “Throne Of Blood” Thomas (drms), aided and abetted by me on the ol’ doghouse, as we convene to lay out a magic carpet of musical enchantment for you to climb aboard and float high high high above the bitter rooftops of our coastal town where the only fishing that goes on is the fishing for compliments, up and away towards the planets hovering overhead, the bitter stars, the black bream multiplying in the kelp rich darkness, the earth turning, all that, you dig? What horrors may lie ahead, what triumphs, what slight returns, what unholy beasts whose hour comes at last, what tired CGI sequels, what variants multiplying, what twits tweeting and what crypto crashing and what else, what else? Only time will tell so in the meantime grab yer axe off the shelf and come and blow some tunes, down some quality hooch, chat some sh*t, spread the love, make a friend, tell a tale, let’s do it before they shut it all down, let’s keep the faith.

Bees Mouth - December 2022

December 19

As the festive season tightens its merciless grip upon the nation, sticky with the sickly effulgence of mulled wine, what will you be voting for in the next poll to be visited upon us by our capricious tech overlords? Give Elon a double kick in the Teslas and vote for JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH to lead us out of this murky gloom, cos we’re still here and lining up to provide another massive dose of vibe thanks to the seasonally unadjusted skills of man like Luke “Clarence Odbody” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Krampus” Thomas (drms) as they switch on the lights, light the fire, and set forth a mighty feast of hot licks and cool grooves for you to lean into and be carried far, far away to a magnificent realm of peace and happiness throughout the land… don’t sit in your damp underheated chartered home, waiting nervously for the delivery man who never comes, wishing you were somehow Argentinian, fretting about the swirling clouds of horrendous bullsh*t looming just over the 2023 event horizon, as the bills mount and the wretched crew of chancers currently shamming it as our democratically elected government turn on each other like rats in a deregulated privatised sewage system clogged with useless PPE and broken promises… let it come down, til a real rain comes, til Jezza “Who, me?” Clarkson is made to parade naked through the streets of every town in Britain while the crowds chant, ‘Shame!’ and throw lumps of excrement at him, til the weak are lifted up and the venal are cast down… until that time, fret not because of evildoers, neither be envious against the workers of iniquity, for they shall soon be cut down like the grass, and wither as the green herb, and instead get onto the good foot and get along to where there’s music and laughter and love and romance, the Bee’s team shimmering behind the well-stocked bar, the creatures of the night on their nameless errands, Mr Magic with his masterplan, Abdul and his magic gin, Big Fruity, Cap’n Jack Rowan at the helm and all shall be well, for today at least, let tomorrow look after itself, who’s in? We’re in.

December 5

Tonight’s Bees Mouth post is brought to you by Elon Musk and his Open.ai generative text writing robot.

“Attention all music fans and creatures of the night! Get ready for a night of swinging jazz at the hottest hip bar in town. JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEES MOUTH.

This Saturday night (edit - actually tonight, Monday ) the hottest bar around will be filled with imaginary creatures of all shapes and sizes, all gathering to enjoy the sweet sounds of jazz. The evening will feature some of the best jazz musicians in the city (Luke 'Leon Kowalski' Rattenbury -gtr Loz 'Roy Batty' Thomas - drms) playing a mix of classic and contemporary tunes. From soulful ballads to up-tempo swing, there will be something for everyone to enjoy.

The atmosphere at the bar will be electric, with the music echoing through the air and the drinks flowing freely. The bar will be decorated in a classic jazz style, with velvet curtains, dim lighting and plenty of comfy chairs and couches to relax in.

But it's not just the music that people will be coming for. The bar will be filled with a variety of unique and imaginative creatures, from mermaids and dragons to fairies and goblins. They'll be mingling and dancing together, adding to the atmosphere of the evening.

So come on down to the hottest hip bar in town this Saturday (edit - actually Monday) night and be prepared to be transported to an enchanted world of music and imagination. Bee’s Mouth Western Road 9-11pm”

Normal service will be resumed next week.

Bees Mouth - November 2022

Nov 28

Has your glorious tide of crypto abundance somehow dried to a lamentable trickle of digital disappointment? Are your dreams of Effective Altruism crumbling into dust? What of your plans to colonise Mars, create a free speech utopia, conquer Death, breed an unstoppable master race of transplendent sexy humanoids? Buck up, buster, it’s only hubris burning, give yerself a good shake and get along to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH to welcome the triumphant return of man like Luke “Huitzilopochtli” Rattenbury (gtr) from the very peaks of Darien where stout Cortez and his men looked at each other and the Pacific with wild surmise, aided and abetted by Loz ‘Chac Mool” Thomas (drms) and me on the ol doghouse as we reconvene to fashion, between us, an elastic but fascinating rhizomatic network of cool grooves and hot licks for you to figuratively recline back into, shedding your worries, driving cruel care away, smoothing out the wrinkles from your troubled brow, putting the spring back into your step and realigning your nodes ready for the coming trouble that you can feel brewing ominously away in the darkest reaches of the grey horizon.. never mind that shit, get along to where there’ll be music and laughter, love and romance, Abdul the gesticulating maniac, K-Lo on his saxophone (don’t be fooled by the rocks that he got), the Bee’s Team and their quality hooch, the spinning head of destiny under the well-stocked bar, and all the regular vibes.. outside the pavements may be thronged with the pallid creatures of the night and the associated badmashes, fakers, jokers n hustlers, but inside it’ll be a horse of a different colour, so grab yer axe of the shelf and come and join us, if not now, then when?

Nov 21

As the rain lashes down and the sewage washes out into the sea, where will you find your refuge? The marketplace of ideas? The beautiful game? Truth? Beauty? IACGMOOH? Abandon these smoking ruins and get your bad self along to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where we can guarantee a haven free of sports-infused medieval religious intolerance, bigoted online bloviators, self-obsessed tech-bro maniacs, Andrew Tate, polyamourous crypto fraudsters, unelected PMs who sound like the nerdy bloke from Inbetweeners, and other plagues upon whatever passes for modernity these days, and instead proffer an enriching torrent of hot swinging blues-to-bop-to-whatevs courtesy of man like Loz “The Gangster Of Love” Thomas (drms) and special guest Al “Crazy Legs” Scott on the keys, assisted to some extent by me on the ol doghouse, plus wherever esteemed guests choose to bless us with their contributions, while the peerless ascended beings of the Bee’s team manifest themselves in the scented shadows behind the well-stocked bar, the nameless creatures of the night disport themselves in the slippery pavements outside, the planets look down unwinkingly upon you and me and us and all our striving and foolishness, the world turns, the plates shift, shit goes down and who’s to stop it? Don’t get mad, get even, get on the good foot, don’t turn your back on love, come join us, it’ll be very.

Nov 14

Get ready and brace brace brace cos here it comes… autumn pretending it isn’t by making with the high temperatures, butterflies etc but no-one’s buying it cos behind each balmy zephyr you can feel the deadly freeze of winter’s withering gorgon breath with Jezza C Hunt’s mad staring eyes glowering at you from the bitter darkness.. let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH step up like the calming voice of a solid friend in the midst of a manic house party you weren’t sure you wanted to go to and now aren’t sure you can leave, gently leading you to the kitchen door and through the previously undiscovered side gate to the crepuscular suburban hush of the street outside and the sweet taste of freedom.. as the shellshocked nation shuffles up the aisle led by Rishi ‘Who, Me?” Sunak with all the bland shallow assurance of a flight attendant on an oversubscribed flight to some European stag-night hell-hole, meekly takes its seat and buckles up for the rough ride, you can rest assured that music and laughter will continue to flow unabated from the likes of man like Loz “Original Don Gorgon” Thomas (drms) and special guest Jason “Hound-Dog” Henson (gtr) as they lay out some prime cuts of swing-to-blues-to-bop-to-whatever to sooth your troubled mind and get you back on the good foot… any manner of esteemed special guests may grace us with their presence, the gang will all be there, we’ll be waiting, and really at this stage what’s to lose? Get along, get along, get along, time’s a-wastin…

Bees Mouth - October 2022

Oct 31

It’s the second-most wonderful time of the year… years 1-6 costumed as evil creatures from medieval folklore, their elder siblings as popular serial killers, the young adults pre-loading for their erotically charged fancy dress parties full of sexy vampires, all manner of unchristian fun n hi jinks on offer for all, even the haggard hollow-eyed parents.. but what awaits at the end of the night? JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH offers you the chance to take a break from the undead, step away from the sugar-fuelled Purge, and enrich your Samhain with an alternative to traditional bagpipes n chanting courtesy of the otherworldly manifestations of man like Luke “Baron Samedi” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Gilded Splinters” Thomas (drms) as they lay out a five lane highway of hot licks and cool grooves to speed you on your way out of the Upside Down through the toll gate of the mundane everyday and out the other side, where the golden radiance shines down upon the blacktop unfurling under your eager wheels straight into the shimmering horizon and further, further on into the hazy future..I’ll be there as per, Abdul will have some new gesticulations, any manner of special guests may get in and get involved, so don’t get sidetracked by all the real-life ghouls and monsters parading across your tethered screens, battering at the doors of your consciousness, pleading for you to fill their pails with the sticky haribo of your attention, your belief, your human warmth, like the qlippoth, stumbling shells of the dead, like Bolsonaro brooding in his palace, Xi sharpening his axe, Putin mentioning the unmentionable, Cruella phoning her tailors, the passionate conviction of the worst and the feeble good intentions of what we thought were the best, all the little trolls doing their trolling and online creeps doing their creeping … don’t give em an ounce, grab yer axe off the shelf and come and join us, we’ve got spells to keep em at bay for a little longer, keep the faith.

Oct 24

Lost for words? As the Grand Brexit Clusterfuck continues its slow motion crash and burn into the nation’s collective psyche like the Hindenburg or the Death Star smashing into the Forest Moon of Endor and the grinning gargoyles infesting Westminster flap their leathery wings and swivel their bug eyes to welcome their new leader, JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH rides in again to offer sanctuary for your sanity and respite from your ongoing menty B, thanks to those implacable sharpshooters Luke “True Grit” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “For A Few Dollars More” Thomas (drms) as they fearlessly step out onto main street and pick off the villains one by one, armed only with the power of hot licks, cool grooves, and the sliver bullets of swing-to-bop-to-blues-to-whatever…you can bet your bottom dollar I’ll be there, and so will the ascended beings of the Bee’s team, Abdul the gesticulator and his crew of Lost Boys, Capn Jack the dandy highwayman, the nameless creatures of the night and the badmashes with their pumped up whips…. step out into the unnervingly balmy night and come and join us, and the crazy reign of Truss and her crew of lamentable ideologically crazed no-marks will seem like the bad dream it always promised to be, swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight where ignorant armies clash by night… the clouds swirl and dissolve, the planets shine overhead, the leaves begin to fall, the tide rises and retreats, something’s coming! Can you feel it? Somewhere in sands of the desert, a shape with lion body and the head of a man, a gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, is moving its slow thighs, while all about it, reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.. Don’t get caught in the rain, don’t turn your back on love, don’t get mad, get even, get on down and join us, we’ll have a time, another time, another time as the sands run slowly down into the lower bowl, don’t be late.

Oct 17

Swimming in a sickly sea of schadenfreude, grovelling before our financial overlords, sweltering in the October heat, checking the sky for Kamikaze drones, trying to find synonyms for “unprecedented”…. it’s all a bit unrelenting, innit, so give yerself a much needed break and swing on down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where we will be creating an oasis of disorderly calm and topologically transitive, densely periodic serenity thanks to the unflagging commitment to growth emanating in huge pulsating waves from those twin quasars of hot licks and cool grooves manifesting at this octave as Luke “Budgetary Responsibility” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Fiscal Stability” Thomas (drms) as they get into it and do there thing, aided in some measure by myself on the bottom line, with the ascended beings of the Bee’s team standing by in the velvet shadows behind the well-stocked bar, ready to lend their steadying hand to pour you a libation of fine quality hooch… don’t mooch around in your unheated home, making decisions of eye-watering difficulty, ruefully cancelling your streaming subs, checking under the bed to see if Suella Braverman is lurking there in the fetid darkness, looking in the cupboard to see if Crazy Eyes Truss is hiding among the other dusty useless redundant junk, bracing for cuts to everything, refusing to contemplate nuclear winter, phubbing your significant other in your dreary confusion, as the indifferent planets wheel overhead and down on the beach the night is riven with confused alarms of struggle and flight and ignorant armies clash by night… don’t do that, do this, come and join us, lets make sense of it all.

Oct 10

Hang on…. what if…. what if it actually doesn’t mean anything at all? The adults have left the room, there’s no captain on the bridge, the driver clocked out and never came back, there’s no-one watching, all your yesterdays were just lighting fools the way to dusty death, now there’s no-one home and we might not even be able to afford to keep the lights on? What then? JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is what then, buster, and then some, coz despite the continuing parade of matchless bumfuckery now passing before your horrified mediated gaze, despite the best efforts of the cavalcade of nincompoops that now pass for some form of representative oversight to U-turn us all into the smoking wasteland of some final free-market catastrophe, despite the rising tides of bullshit threatening to spill over the sandbags and engulf us all, those tireless paragons of hot licks and cool grooves known at this octave as Luke “Grand Pu-Ba” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Actor-Network Theory” Thomas (drms) will be taking it to the people again as they close the gap between what you want and what you are with a torrent of hot licks and cool grooves to ease your way through the century, put a spring back in your step, shake out the worm from your apple, get the light back into your eyes, help you float above the overwhelm and zorb your way back to happiness… I’ll be there doing something or other on bass, any number of special guests may drop by to sit in enhance proceedings, the nameless creatures of the night will pass upon their unknowable errands, as the last crickets fall silent upon the hill, the moon heaves itself above the ravaged fields, Kwasi “Bad Boy” Kwarteng retires to his budget hotel room to headbutt his reflection until the bathroom mirror runs with blood, Crazy Eyes Liz watches reruns of Homes Under The Hammer in search of innovative policy ideas, ReesMogg smirks himself into a puddle of oily sebum and the rest of their crew of no-marks gibber and twitch from the shadows… don’t mess, get down, we’ll do a thing, spin a web of meaning here in the dark, it’ll be very.

Oct 3

As the mighty splendour of BRIGHTON JAZZ FESTIVAL sails away over the shining golden horizon with a fanfare of shining golden trumpets, fireworks, choirs of biblically accurate seraphim etc, it’s time to revisit the plan for growth! Oh dear. Oh dear, what a shame. Who, apart from everyone, could have foreseen it? Best just leave em to it and step out for JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH, since words cannot possibly do real justice to the bottomless depths of moronic incompetent over-reach now on display across all channels, so try your very hardest not to U-turn on the way, avoiding all possible turbulence real or imaginary, keeping incredibly energised and defiant and staying the course, until you arrive at the violently swinging door under the neon sign and get into it, man, cos we’ll be there with man like Luke “Budget Responsibility” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Medium-Term Fiscal Plan” Thomas (drms) as they spin a web of future possibilities through the wonderful medium of music, a resource impervious to short sellers or champagne swilling financiers or any of those other colossal assholes currently f*cking everything up as quick as their greedy little hands can twitch… avoid awkward silences, Govian levels of oleaginous clandestine disloyalty, insistent BBC local radio hosts, cretinous Tufton street fantasists and all the other new hazards of daily life here on Airstrip One and instead come with us on a journey into sound, bathe your troubled frontal lobes in a fountain of hot licks and cool grooves, marvel at whatever special guests may appear, clashing their hooves of brass and rattling their brazen wings as they cross the threshold to sit in and do their thing, drink deeply from the healing libations prepared just for you by the ascended beings of the Bees Team, join us, dear reader, join us, let’s cock a snook at the lot of em.

Bees Mouth - September 2022

Sept 26

So here you are, flailing around in the overwhelm at the end of time, or doggedly keeping a steady head as the receding spectre of morbid flummery recedes from your media eye along with its attendant notions of duty and service and all that… get into the swing of things by throwing caution to the wings and moseying down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEES MOUTH where we’ll be relentlessly focussing on GROWTH under the impassive oversight of Luke “Wealth Of Nations” Rattenbury (gtr) and the mercurial bravado of Loz “Das Kapital” Thomas (drms), as they unapologetically present a daring programme of hot licks and cool grooves that will be available to all, even those earning under £150,000 per annum,… our policy platform is based around growth of good vibes, growth of good music, growth of inter-human communication, growth of peace and understanding, and savage cuts to all forms of bullshit and extraneous fuckries across the nation, so as the first premonitory zephyrs of autumn’s sere breath curl around the leaf, still green and unwithered, as the sun shines upon the glassy sea, as the fruit rots upon the hedgerow, as the eels swarm under the silent waters and the questing vole passes, feather footed, through the plashy fen, we’ll be gathering yet again under the auspices of doughty cap’n Jack Rowan and his team of ascended beings to do our thing and keep the darkness at bay - incoherent unelected stealth Ukippers, Kami Kwasi and Cruella Braverman, Italian fascists, nuclear tyrants, flood, fire, pestilence, Naked Attraction and Married At First Sight, all the evils of this world can be kept away for another evening if we all click our heels and say the magic words, act like we know the creator has a master plan, so grab your axe and come and sit in, we’ll do a thing.

Sept 19

Had enough of Mournhub? Fatigued by hushed punditry? Jaded by ostentatious displays of hierarchically structured grieving? Disconcerted by the televised confluence of pallbearing and ephebophilia? Disorientated by the brown-note of sub-bass organ pipes delivered through your earbuds? Dismayed, discouraged, disenfranchised, distracted, disturbed, displaced, distempered, dissed? Well, JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is open tonight, cos it’s what she would have wanted, offering you a shelter from the all-pervading miasma of pageantry with a nice lil palate-cleanser of respectfully delivered blues-to-bop-to-latin-to-swing-to-whatever thanks to the untiring efforts of those heads of state Luke “All Hail The King” Rattenbury (gtr) and special guest Angus “The Bishop” Bishop (drms) both ready and willing to lay it out for the people, aided in some fashion by me on the ol dog house, plus whatever honoured guests may rouse themselves from their contemplation of the end of an era, duty, service etc and make their way through the hushed echoing streets to sit in and do their thing… the Bee’s Team will be present in all their heraldic splendour behind the well-stocked bar, the usual creatures of the night will creep forth upon their nameless errands that time and tide alone cannot delay, the planets shall heave their unwinking lights above the far horizon, it’ll be something and what else can it be? What else can we be, here by the ocean shore at the end of time? Get along, come thru, all are welcome: redundant bagpipers, outraged royalists, whoevs, lets do a thing.

Sept 12

If even the most ardently loyal royalists now feel slightly oppressed by the doling out of doleful condolences on all channels, while the snarkiest antiestablishmentarians may find the mordant edge of their incisively cynical shitposting has become blunted by the sheer effort of keeping it up in new and original way, don’t feel downhearted, just gird your loins and mosey along to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where you can stave off a right royal menty B and refresh your ideological zeal for whatever exactly it is that you think you believe in these days by drinking in deep, healing draughts of the musical elixir that pours forth, in an unending stream, from those cornucopias of hot licks, cool grooves and general musical basedness known at this octave of divine vibration as Luke “Nova Swing” Rattenbury (gtr) and special guest monster Tristan “T-Bone” Banks (drms, barbecue) as they send you up on a rocket to the moon, my friend, or at any rate to a place where no-one says ‘end of an era’ or ‘a tradition of service’ or ‘she had a good innings’ or ‘chief monarch of a thieving genocidal empire’ or ‘funded by tax cuts’ any other of the well-worn phrases that are crushing your zest as surely as the hand of time crushed Lizzy II and will one day crush you too, dear reader, like a clove of garlic upon a press…. not tonight tho, tonight the moon is ripe and beaming, the foxes disport among the garbage, the sea is alive with the teeming fishes, the orchards heavy with fruit, the planets bright in the sky, the Bee’s team and Jack The Dandy Highwayman and and Tattoo Albert and Gesticulating Abdul and Big Fruity and the rest of the mythical gang will all be there in spirit if not in actual manifested body, come and join us as we play it again for you, for them, for everyone, come and get involved.

Sept 5

So here we go, hang on as we creak up to the top of the rollercoaster and then plunge crazily down the other side, everyone screaming, wetting themselves, the mechanism creaking like a haunted house, the ground rushing up to meet you, the taste of bile in your mouth, everyone losing their shit in delight or terror or both - that’s right folks, it’s TRUSS UK FTW so you can cut that negativity right out of your life and strut proudly along to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where you can ready yourself for the new era that opens up before us in through the portal and into the new light-touch low-regulation Upside Down or plains of Morgoth or whatever the new freeports will be branded as… stop staring at your depleted news app like a poor lil bunny in the headlights, turn off all your energy using appliances carefully and come and hunker down with man like Luke “Special Master” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “General Election” Thomas (drms) as they buck the trend and to deliver an endless torrent of 100% renewable cosmic energy direct down the pipeline and into your life through the medium of hot licks and cool grooves…. any number of esteemed special guests may well find their way down, singing the praises of British Cheese as they step boldly through the swinging door full of bold new visions for the musical future, ready to sit in and do their thing, the ragged battalions of the night will conduct their customary manoeuvers under the generalship of Abdul the gesticulating maniac, the ascended masters of the Bee’s Team will be ready and waiting to make with the quality hooch at your command…. let your World Line pick you up and take you here, beyond the cosmic horizon, while there’s still time, before autumn’s sere breath withers the leaf, while the hedgerows are still heavy with fruit and the air hangs still over the glassy sea… we’re not done yet, oh no, this isn’t the end, it’s the beginning.

Bees Mouth - August 2022

Aug 22

Hold tight, suckers, batten up the hatches cos here comes a cold, as we hurtle down the martial time slip back into the 70s that all you hipsters were so nostalgic about with your ironic flares and taches and vinyls and vintage furniture n sh*t… heatwaves, strikes, inflation, energy blackouts, cold war heading your way faster than a souped up V6 Mark III Capri with furry dice.. just time to catch yer breath, tighten your wig and get along to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where we’ll be keeping our heads out of the upside down and our bad selves the right way up thanks to timely interventions from man like Luke “Ubik” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “The Man In The High Castle” Thomas (drms) as they shake up the hot sauce and lay out a fine array of deep flavoured musical barbecue for your delectation and edification… I’ll be along in the usual capacity, making the best of things, the intermittently pulsating entities manifesting on this plane as the Bee’s Team will be hovering in the scented shadows behind the well-stocked bar, the familiar shadow operators of the night will cluster, twittering and twitching, as the turgid sewage-laden air drifts in from the chartered coast, as Jupiter hauls itself above the horizon for a another spin of the dice, as Crazy Eyes Truss edges closer to the victory that will destroy her and whatever else her manic gaze alights upon, as the kipple builds up slowly in your neglected cupboards, and as the planet tilts regardless a few degrees back towards the cold side… any amount of esteemed special guests may well enter thru the violently swinging door, each in their own unmistakeable unshakeable way, to lift their voices to the universe and make a thing happen, and you could be one of em, so what’s keeping you? It’s for ever, but it’s not for ever, it’s for ever, not for ever…. gubble gubble…

Aug 15

OK, listen up you lollygagging slackers, the holiday’s over … who do you think you are, PM or something? Heatwave is done now, it’s time to get busy, pick up the melted goo of your life that you left on the beach outside PRYZM or Shoosh and smush it all back together into something resembling a working adult face… just time left to scoot along the greasy pavement to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where u can GRWM and also with man like Luke “ROFL” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “WYSIWYG” Thomas (drms) as they lay it out pure and true like it should be with the cool grooves and hot licks streaming down the wonderful waterslide of the jazz-to-blues-to-bop-to-whatevs tradition to land at your enchanted feet… I’ll be back on duty at the ol’ doghouse, various esteemed guests may grace us with their presence and “sit in” at their whim, the ineffable ascended beings of the Bee’s team will be ready with the quality hooch, it’ll be a stone groove for all… already the swifts are departing, the swallows gather restlessly on the line, the dusk gathers unexpectedly just when you thought you’d go out, Jupiter blazes in the sky above the flaccid sea, and there’s only a few short weeks to go before Liz “Crazy Eyes” Truss takes to the helm and sets the controls straight for the nearest iceberg, so don’t shuffle pointlessly about on the scorched grass outside kicking up dust like some mini harbinger of total climate collapse, pack up your paddleboard and come and join us…we’re here, we’re here, we’re here….

Bees Mouth - July 2022

July 18

Okay you sweaty hucksters, I see you, slowly drowning in the tides of kipple swarming around your puny endeavours, teeth gritted, monkey riding your back, in for the win, out for the lose… why not chill the f*k out and come hang at JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH given that your enterprise is already doomed and …. Wait …. You didn’t know? Well, the jig is truly up but don’t take it so hard, sport, come on down the hot echoing canyons of the crumbling streets, push the door open, in past the rotating head, the gangs all here… Luke “Palmer Eldritch” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Ubik” Thomas (drms) will be playing hot sweet music like it’s the last night on earth, I’ll be assisting to some degree on the ol’ doghouse, Big Fruity may well drop by to bless us, Gesticulating Abdul and his posse will enliven proceedings from a safe distance, Cap’n Jack Rowan and his fearless buccaneers will be on hand to make with the quality hooch at your command, K-Lo may swing by to flash his new rocks, all the pallid creatures of the night will be driven from their noisome burrows by the heat, the heat, the heat… as we drift, mesmerised by the heat like eels glassy-eyed upon the glassy sargasso, towards a destiny we can see but are powerless to prevent… remember these days when it all falls down, store them up against the coming storm, come and join us and we’ll put things together.

July 11

Hey you! Tear your sun-dazzled gaze away from the awful spectacle of the Un-Beauty contest parading across our overloaded mediated consciousness, all those pleading faces and bleating voices of the utterly compromised Boris-enablers jockeying for position like the morally bankrupt bottom feeders that you always knew they were… F*ck that shit, here comes JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where we’ve already narrowed the candidates down to Luke “Will Of The People” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Due Democratic Process” Thomas (drms) as they set out their slate of higher levels of groove for all, heavy investment in hot licks, freedom of movement for positive vibes and a war on buzzkills, drags and bringdowns… I’ll be heading for the stump myself, dragging the ol doghouse, various welcome contenders may appear out of the hot stinking night, bearing their burnished arms, their burnished instruments of gleaming brass like the swords of conquering heroes, the echoing streets will be alive with the sounds of exciteable citizenry and their attendant demons, the peerless ascended masters of the Bee’s Team will be hovering in the scented shadows behind the well-stocked bar, the heat-dazed hills will be alive with the busy whirr of crickets, the moth will climb aloft on silent wings, bound on its timeless mission of inscrutable mystery, shit will get real, are you in? Remember that only a week ago Bozza was still unassailable, pulvus et umbris sumus, you rotten old fraud… times move fast so get with it.

Jul 4

The echoes of Love Supreme’s idiosyncratic mix nostalgia, futurity and optimistically priced fast food still reverberate around the sun-swept pastures, confusing the sheep, bewitching the gaping rustics as they go about their obscure rural business, causing the ruddy-faced local squirearchy to pause, pondering, upon the hunting field or trout beck… surely there cannot be MORE jazz still unplayed? Let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH be the judge of that, buster, cos man like Luke “The Eternal Triangle” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Goedels’ Theorem” Thomas (drms) are primed and ready to deliver another major slice of hot sweet swinging music for your delectation, supported by whatever I can muster on bass, with the ever-present possibility of Maxwell’s Demon propelling another array of superheated special guests in through the massless door to generate a sound constantly decreasing in entropy, beneath the radiant stars… will there be inebriated Hibernian comedians, despondent crypto bros, fugitive Ruthenians, feverish Republicans, anxious royalists, Tory Whip Uncle Monties (you terrible c*nts), hipsters as icy cool as Mick Lynch, squares buzzkills and bring-downs lining up to get back on the good foot, Big Fruity at the Drums Of Thunder, the good, the bad, the sane and the demented, the loveless and the lost, the well-intentioned and the dissolute, the strivers and working stiffs, the feckless and the brave and true? You better grab yer axe down off the shelf and get down or you’ll never know, get involved, step out, pump up the jam cos you’ll find out if you do that.

Bees Mouth - June 2022

June 27

Ok, so you did/didn’t go to Glasto and you were delighted/exasperated by the array of world-class global talent/overhyped chancers and their life-affirming creativity/dreary cultural slurry that you watched riding your partners shoulders, hands in the air/squinted at on your phone on the bus on the way to your soul-crushing non-index-linked employment… time to relinquish the exhausting burden of your opinions and get back downhome with JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where you’l be able to chillax, step off the wheel, put aside the increasingly complex business of maintaining your supposed social persona in which you’ve invested so, so much time, and just BE for a bit, without even having to maintain a studiedly nonchalant facade of disinterested ennui with the whole festival concept, cos we all know music is life, right, and that’s what we’ve got for you thanks to man like Luke “Fields Of Avalon” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “The Dark Knight Arises” Thomas (drms) and me on the other thing, and the ever-present possibility of a visit from the whole exotic menagerie of special guests arriving thru the swinging door from out of the warm, gritty Kefahuchi Tract darkness at the edge of the sodium glare, stomping their hoofs or shaking their brazen wings, their echoing feathers of verdigris, ready to get involved, as the Shadow Operators of the Bee’s team hover in the multi-dimensional space behind the bar, ready to make with the quality hooch at your hoarse, eager request… as the world drags itself slowly and painfully like a spavined horse ever deeper into a black spiral of pestilence, famine, war, as mighty winds lay low the mountains of the earth, as America begins to unstitch itself, one at a time, the Norns plucking with their withered fingers at the weft of whatever it is that we thought we were, what’s a body to do? Grab yer axe down of off the shelf and come and join us, don’t delay, why, Beaver, why?

June 20

The line keeps going down, your crypto mastery has somehow inverted, sentient AI can do your job better than you and has a more engaging personality, no-one liked your TikTokReel of , trains into town all rekt, FUD all around, wtf? Is it over? What drear fate awaits you at the end of the golden road, once so full of promise? Cheer up, buttercup, we’re all waiting for you down at JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH to put a spring back into your step and get you retuned back into your true vibrational level via total immersion in the energy fields emanating from the dark stars known as Luke “Stepping Razor” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Cash Is King” Thomas (drms) as they rock the joint and set the scene… the pasty faced denizens of the darkeness may scurry past on their journeys to the end of the night, the reeking pavements slither underfoot, your socials feed alive with the idiotic doings of idiotic idiots and their inexhaustible idiocy, but screw them, we’re here, the Bee’s team are in full effect, the door swinging open for esteemed guests, the air heavy with the scent of possibility this is where we are, it’s June, the mackerel crowded seas, the swifts keening high overhead, the moths on their missions, the cry of the whitethroat alive in the bursting hedgerows, it’s all happening all around you… get on the good foot, grab yer axe off the shelf, come and let’s do a thing and get on down, you absolute legend you, hesitare perditus est.

June 13

Summer’s finally here, binches, so time to get your guns out, just hop right off that flight to Rwanda and kiss the hot stinking home tarmac cos we’re going to slip into something that’s as revealing as a congressional hearing, go buck-wild with our beach-bodies all over the place and just TEAR IT UP like it’s an EU import/export protocol… but what when the sun slips below the horizon and all seems suddenly dark and hopeless? Why, hasten yourselves to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH of course, coz the gang will all be there, Big Fruity, Abdul the Gesturing Maniac, “Canoe” Albert and his canoe and tales of the South China Seas, Cap’n Jack Rowan the dandy highwayman, the super-hip ascended masters manifesting within the buffed and perfect bods of the Bee’s Team as they hover, vibrating imperceptibly in the velvet shadows behind the well-stocked bar, all the freaks and monsters, angels and demons and in-betweeners, and leading the charge, those doyens of hot grooves and cool licks Luke “Axel F” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “John McLane” Thomas (drms) making things shoot up faster than a litre of E10 Unleaded on the forecourt of your shattered dreams… I’ll be somewhere or other on bass, esteemed guests may materialise from out of the unquiet night, up above the stars will wheel ahead on their uncaring chilly courses through the trackless lifeless wastes of space, the velvet darkness, the mutter of the sea on shingle, the screams of the foxes hunting through your unclean leavings, the future crouching behind the looming darkness of the hills like a giant unclean beast waiting to spring when you were least expecting it, waiting for the swifts that never came… it’ll be a vibe and we all need some vibe don’t we? Come and get it while it’s hot.

June 6

See how the mighty are broken before the winds of time and chance, even as broken reeds in the wind shall they be shriven and cast down… hereditary nonegenarians and their venal, conveniently COVID-ridden offspring, bringers of false oven-ready prophecies, wearers of pathetically affected top hats and their attendant rabble of unclean Moabites and wash-pots of Moab, all that rotten mob… where will you build your citadel, safe from shifting sands? Let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH be your rock cos we’ll be there irrespective of the committees and their letters and all that, regardless of the rain-washed sodden celebrations of medieval political structures, despite the blood-soaked clouds in the East, thanks to man like Luke “Lazarus” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “The Darkseeker” Thomas (drms) as they raise a joyful noise of blues-to-bop-to-whatevs to rise above the wailings and lamentations of the crypto bros, the weedy sycophancy of the royal correspondents, the measured impotent discourses of the tenured analysts and guardians of the public conscience, the endless flickering of the impossible lies beaming from TikTokReels straight into your poor aching frontal lobes, the hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed… I’ll be there on bass, the majestic beings of the Bee’s Team will be on hand with libations of prime quality hooch, special guests may well drift in out of the slightly sub-par summer night with it’s traditional British atmosphere of a promise not quite delivered, monarchs may come and monarchs may go but the music continues so get in, come thru, what are you waiting for? The end of the world, governments to fall, war pestilence and famine? It’ll all here, jack, so don’t delay, join us, join us.

Bees Mouth - May 2022

May 23

Quick! Only a pitiful week to go to cram your head with as much Art as possible before the Festival ends! And all you’ve done is lolled about playing World of Warcraft or flicking listlessly though the endless stream of unfeasibly fit funfilled monocultural youthfulness of tiktokreels... it’s time to straighten up and fly right, Jack, or if you just can’t get it together, get it to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where we’ll be putting the high into highbrow and the party into arty thanks to the 100% cask strength super reserves of man like Luke “Feynman” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Feuerbach” Thomas (drms) as they lay out another existential episode of their endless quest for meaning truth and beauty via the medium of hot swinging blues-to-bop-to-whatever… I’ll be there, reliable as a can of super-strength lager resting lightly on the middle shelf of an antiquated chiller cabinet in the numinous off-licence of your dreams, the Bee’s Team will be manifesting on this earthly vibrational level just for you, shimmering in the velvet dusk behind the well-stocked bar, and any number of esteemed special guests may well enter recklessly through the violently swinging door from out of the night, turbulent and troubled with the uneasy birthing of another summer, and gift us with their unearthly improvisations…. it’ll be some kind of a vibe for sure, and so you should stop listening to True Crime podcasts or Jacob Collier on youtube or similarly culturally vacuous pursuits, put aside your open-mouthed gaping wonder at the combination of malice and incompetence that currently passes for government, send them all to the Rwanda of your imagination to share their Netflix passwords with whatever unclean benighted fiends they encounter there, and get your own bad self down to where the good stuff is happening… Don’t get mad, don’t even get even, just get down, get down, get down, and then get up, get up, get up.

May 16

As the soft gloaming descends upon the town, the mechanical bird-bots trolling in the trees, the streets full of the evaporating dreams of ten million Great Escapees staggering home under the weight of their indie guitars and unrealistic expectations, spores of monkeypox blowing through the mellow sea air, the whole town staggering under the Festie burden of Kultural capital and general artsy-fartyness… keep it real with JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH cos we’ll be making a virtue of consistency and staying on the good foot thanks to the hard, gem-like flame burning bright whenever man like Luke “Right On For The Darkness” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “The Stig” Thomas (drms) unleash their awesome talents and let rip with another roaring torrent of talent to delight your overburdened senses and make you feel whole again… I’ll be there on bass as per doing whatevs, various esteemed guests may put in an appearance as the night progresses, weaving their way along the shadowed streets, wading through the pools of bitter tears of weeping Crypto bros, dodging past the Fringe performers with their grimly inevitable tutus and ukeleles, giving a tip of the hat and a cheery wave to the streetcorner gin bottle don, swerving past the highbrows and their chitter chatter and jibber jabber… it doesn’t take the killer instincts of a Wagatha Christie to tell that there’s evil aplenty afoot out there beyond the sea, across the hills, but out here beyond the perimeter there are no stars, so come and get involved whydoncha, there’s really no time like the present, is there?

May 9

Hey Kats n Kittens! We know it’s a tough gig out there, trying to upsell your new vibe… when your Victory Day speech tanks (geddit!!) and you can’t get the troops out on parade because they are dead, and the whole de-Nazification metaphor just seems stretched too thin to really, y’know, be rockin’… or when your forensic moral integrity gets blown up by a simple curry.. or whatevs .. all you guys get along to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where all disappointed tyrants, next election’s failed Labour leaders and everyone else are welcome regardless of race, creed, gender identity, sexual preference, twitter position on culture wars hotbuttons, emotional stability, mental capacity assessment or any other contemporary markers of identity, as long as you still have the capacity to lose yourself within the river of creativity endlessly flowing forth from the twin Ur-sources manifesting at this octave in the chiseled forms of Luke “Skywalker” Rattenbury (gtr) and Special Guest Tristan “T-Bone” Banks (drms and barbecue) as they pour forth a limpid gushing torrent of sparkling swing-to-bop-to-blues-to-whatever, assisted to some degree by me on bass, as the re-emergent stars swing by overhead and the bass swarm in the glistening sea… don’t hunker in your bunker, slurping listlessly at a depressing puddle of Hot n Savoury Huel…. don’t flick listlessly through Netflix, once so full of promise, now so empty of delight…don’t weep over your deflating crypto… save that boring podcast for your next delayed train journey and instead come and join us where the air is heavy with the magical scent of possibility and the Bee’s team wait, quivering with interdimensional potential, in the velvet shadows behind the well-stocked bar… come and join us, we’ll do a thing.

May 2

Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? No matter how sincerely rural constituency representatives try and convince us that they just googled “deep ploughing” and were as shocked as everyone else with what came up on their screen, no matter how much Bozza and Lil Lord Mogleroy and the rest of his goons try to draw a line under it and move on, the fragrant airs of spring seem tainted wth the stench of sleaze… let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH act as a Febreze upon the soiled ticking, clotted velour, tainted chenille or smeared leatherette that upholsters your soul, as you find odors eliminated and the freshness brought back into your life, riding upon a tireless surging swell of good vibrations and positive affirmations in musical form that pour forth as waves upon the endless sea from those ascended octagons of shining light known on this earthly plane as Luke “John Deere” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Massey Ferguson” Thomas (drms) as they cut the shit and get right down to it with a whole heap of straight-up blues-to-bop-to-swing-to-whatever to delight your senses and make you feel clean again… I’ll be participating to mixed effect upon the bass as per, the Bee’s team will be offering alluring glimpses of other dimensions via their libations of the intoxicating beverages imported direct from the Mountains of Madness, and there’s always the possibility that various honoured guests may make their way in thru the swing door past the welcome committee of gibbering street people to enliven proceedings with their esteemed contributions…when all the tennis pitches are closed, there are no more things to downstream, the UK internet still hasn’t been made the safest in the world, what will you turn to then? Music will still be there and so will we, until they shut everything down forever, so get cracking.. As princes do in time of action get new taxes, and remit them not in peace, no winter shall abate the spring’s increase, so Happy Beltane, don’t get lazy, get down.

Bees Mouth - April 2022

April 25

So listen up and listen good, things are gonna have to change around here if we want to get our dream foreign holiday in before everything goes to shit again and we start fighting each other over pasta and bog roll… if you think that just crossing and uncrossing your legs is going to get you ahead you better think again, that game is up, so before they come for you with a passive-aggressive note on your desk and a midnight knock on your door, hasten down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH and get yourself in psychic trim for whatever fresh fuckery our elected cabinet of mediocrities have in store for you, by letting your frontal lobes absorb the waves of pure boundless healing energy pouring forth from those titans of tempo, masters of modulation and sultans of stank in the form of dedicated retro-futurists Luke “Andromeda Strain” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Dark Star” Thomas (drms) as they get busy spinning another set of Unexplained Ring Structures across the trackless starlit reaches of your own inner space… I’ll be there as per with some form of low end contribution, the peerless Bee’s Team will be along to administer the finest liquors known to man from deep within the velvet shadows behind the well-stocked bar, all manner of special guests may drop in to illuminate the proceedings with their esteemed contributions, shit will get real and all will be well…. all the detritus of what passes for our triumphant civilisation may drift in through the swinging door from out of the freshening night breeze blowing in across the restless sea, strewn with marooned paddleboarders: industry plants, VSCO girls, cursed long furbies, relieved Gallic centrists, wastrels, minstrels and scoundrels, tattoo artists, maniacs, thruples, 2-dimensional NFT collectives and imaginary DAOs, Abbatars, anyone really… why not come and add your presence, strike a light, let’s shine together.

April 18

Another glorious British Bank holiday draws to a tearful close.. all weekend long you have delighted in the company of hens and stags, the blushing hoydens brandishing inflatable penises while their sturdy swains, dressed as condoms, are valiantly sick into the gutter or sit, sad-eyed and bewildered, at the noisome kerb.. now you’ve had it with their shit and want to send them all to Rwanda, but you can’t, so instead go to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where you can revive your faith in humanity and all its works while bathing in the radiance pouring forth from man like Luke “Bad To The Bone” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “The Velvet Fog” Thomas (drms) as they set the subatomic particles in motion to generate another supernova of hot licks and cool grooves to get you back on the good foot and ready for whatever the brazen cavalcade of trumpeting mediocrities that pass for our elected representatives may be about to parade in front of your tethered screens next, as prices and sea levels rise, horror continues to unfold in the east, injustice and incompetence stride across the land wasting and ravaging, Harrison Birtwistle goes to heaven in a little rowboat and facebook keep desperately shoving their poxy reels into your grill… I’ll be along as per doing whatevs on the bass, the Bee’s team will be hovering mysteriously in the scented shadows behind the well-stocked bar, any number of esteemed guests may or may not grace us with their presence as they materialise out of the teeming streets to come and sit in and do their thing… don’t worry about the bad stuff, make room for the good stuff, come and join us, it’ll be a thing.

April 11

All that continuous worrying about the impending destruction of everything you hold most dear sure takes up your best hours in the day, doesn’t it? But thanks to the last fetid gasps of global American hegemonic dominance it is now officially SPRING BREAK which means that you can just go buck wild now and turn the next two weeks into the Frat party style hedonistic mayhem you always knew you deserved… or retain a shred of dignity and proceed to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where those anointed archdeacons of hip known in this dimension as Luke “Dom Toretto” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Brian O’Conner” Thomas (drms) as they hit the nitro and go fast and furious, yet also somehow simultaneously tasteful and restrained, like a Dodge Charger 426 Hemi R/T and a 2002 Nissan Skyline GT-R R34 racing down a street in far away glorious sunny California towards a golden horizon shining with the radiance of promises yet to be fulfilled.. I will be assisting in some manner on bass, like Chris “Ludacris” Bridges in a comedy supporting role, the Bee’s team will be on hand ready to make with the grade A hooch at your request, a host of esteemed guests may make their way through the streets, now quickening with the fresh aroma of the blossom blowing down off the empty hillsides as rugged and impassive as Vin Diesel’s face in close-up, and come and sit in and adorn the evening with their heartfelt contributions…don't just sit around looking for someone else to blame, like ex-PM Sunak, come and join us, it’ll make it better for a while, stave off the iron hand of dread that clutches at your poor foolish heart, what’s to lose?

April 4

April is the ginchiest month, breeding hipsters out of the dead land, mixing memory and decaff latte, stirring dull roots with spring rain…Ok, so maybe winter kept us warm, feeding a little life with dried tubers like some kind of vegan-only diner, but the time for this kind of seasonally affective lollygagging is over - spring is coming, then summer with all its hideous body shaming and sunburn, so it’s time to get into mental shape, and quick.. fortunately JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEES’ MOUTH is here, ready and waiting to prime your pump and get you back on the good foot and feeling the power of positive thinking with man like Luke “Dhayadhvam” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Damyata” Thomas (drms) as they join forces yet again, friends, to weave a sonic vibe so powerful, illuminating and true that all who step within its radiant orbit shall feel the cares of this mortal world drop away from their weary shoulders, and hear the tumult of endless horrible bullsh*t that besets them fade away til it is as the gentle soughing of the wind through branches of the sodden blackthorn as it waits, laden now with spectral shrouds of blossom, at the end of the muddy pathway leading to the bare hills…. those elevated dudes of the Bee’s Team will be there as well to serve you from an array of high-grade hooch, which always helps, a randomly selected array of special guests may well drop by to add lustre to the proceedings…. outside the steamy windows all may seem kinda harsh and far away across the night horrible deeds are being done, don’t you know, but we’ll be doing our darndest to make something good happen in here, come and feel the noise.