17th December
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven; a time to lay in on your seasonal purple drank, wrap up the kids’ carefully re-gendered gifts, pretend that sending cards in the physical meatspace mail is still a thing, hone your ‘casual works drink’ mastery skills, gather yourself before the coming storm, and yet still time as well to get your bad self along to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where sh*t will be real and the sound is fresh as ever was thank to the endless ingenuity of Luke ‘We Free Kings’ Rattenbury (gtr), Loz ‘Equisapiens’ Thomas (drms) and special guest Maestro Nigel Thomas keeping it sweet and lowdown on the bass … the air will be laden with the acrid stench of mulled wine, the streets filled with harassed late-night shoppers trying to express their hope that love will overpower mortality via the medium of consumer spending, regular working stiffs and panhandlers alike will be expecting their seasonal bonuses, bells will be ringing, lovely Stacey will be dancing, dancing, dancing, the Trumpkin will be waiting for the stroke of midnight or Mueller, all under the lowering sky as the horsemen of impending Brexitapocalypse gird their fetid loins and our scurrying political class cower in their gilded, endlessly flipping residences muttering their feeble imprecations of votes on votes of votes to try and ward them off, keep them away, drown out the steady thud and flutter of dry, dusty wings circling overhead… don’t let it harsh your vibe, don’t let em grind you down, get up and get down, we still out here…
10th December
How much more of this Strong and Stable stuff can we take? Is Maybot the Delaybot trying to stall while she finds her CV? Is Jezza secretly spraying on the Lynx before bursting forth to pitch his woo to the punch drunk electorate? When will we see the promised TV dance-off setting May’s Brexit Stanky Leg against Corby’s Socialist Hokey-Cokey? If it’s all messing with your equilibrium, cast off all care and come to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where we’ll be respecting the real will of the people with our own backstop arrangement of good grooves, hot licks and hard swing thanks to the unfettered self-determination of Luke ‘Silent Majority’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Youthquake’ Thomas (drms) as they sail confidently into the glorious future, assisted in some manner by me on bass and unapologetic centrism, while the fearless buccaneers of the Bee’s Team stand in proudly independent readiness behind the bar, well-stocked with the finest international hooch from our valued trading partners, and the multi-dimensional beings of the night shuffle past upon their nameless errands deep within the wind-blasted crannies of the convoluted, compromised, ageing city clinging on between the chilly shingle and the dark silent masses of the downs lurking in the gloom like gigantic Grokes at the edges of your mind…. we’ll still be here as long as there’s music to play and someone to play it to, til Megatron returns to claim us all as his own, so don’t sit at home on your pile of hysterically stockpiled vegan corned beef substitute, fortify yourself with a big swig of fermented Huel and come and sit in, we still out here…
3rd December
As poor faithful Curiosity Rover sends us more pix of a bleak, monochromatic wasteland, devoid of intelligent life, like we’ve never heard of Spoons and its jolly Brexitty bossman sir Tim, as the informed debate essential to a functioning democracy descends into an endless round of petulant shitposting, do you feel that your options are slowly withering on the branch to lie flaccid upon life’s tracks like the wrong kind of leaves? Let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH act upon you like a tonic, free equally of Big Pharma and homeopathic hooey, ready to reinvigorate your frontal lobes with a mega dose of pure hot sweet swinging jazz-and-related-music thanks to the tireless ministrations of Luke “Frozone” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Mr Incredible” Thomas (drms) as they do their thing with both gusto and panache, like those enterprising shoppers at Christian Dior, aided in some manner by me on bass, while the fearless buccaneers of the Bee’s team stand by to reward the righteous with libations of the finest A grade hooch, the Bad Boys line up the patties, the regular stiffs mingle with the mythical denizens of the dusk in the chilly mist outside and the pale-eyed creatures of the night shuffle past to their appointments with who knows what, their shadows striding behind them and rising to meet them from the cold sticky pavements under the sodium glow… maybe you’ve decided against that Air B&B break in Gay Paree, maybe Black Friday didn’t give you anything you really wanted, maybe you’re ready to table a motion of No Confidence in yourself - don’t do it - come and join us instead, it’ll be very.