Bees Mouth - January 2019

28th January

As the freezing winds of Brexmas swoop down across the glassy sea and into your personal space, like Mr Putin’s icy fingers down the back of your neck, as your emotions are all still a-quiver from trying mix the feels of a weekend combining Burns Night and Holocaust Memorial Day, as you contemplate necking a load of tide pods and yeeting into traffic just to show em all, JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH comes riding in just in the nick of time to get you back on the good foot and into it, man, so quit trying to gaslight yourself back into happiness or at least some kinda resignation to Fortuna’s wheel and get some symmetry and geometry back into your life by digging on special guest Paul ‘Fist Of Fury’ Richards (gtr), keeping you safe from harm as he’s equally at home swinging the changes on his pearl inlaid fretboard as he is disabling an assailant with a single body blow, plus Loz ‘The Last Dragon’ Thomas on the drums of thunder, plus me as per on the ol doghouse keeping Argos out of the chill as he waits for master to get back from his trip, while the shimmering sylphs and dryads of the Bee’s team wait poised in the scented shadows behind the well-stocked bar to make with the quality liquors and whatever guests spin by to shake it loose with us limber up to do their thing, and so can you, so can you, say it loud whatever it may be, don’t go voiceless into the black night, derevaun seraun, derevaun seraun. 

21st January

Here you are, deep into the chilly heart of cuffing season, the super blood wolf moon overhead like a Roger Dean prog dream, harbinger of some tide of earthbound f*ckery that’s waiting to overwhelm us all as our elected representatives bray and bellow like the venal lacklustre lollygaggers we all suspected they might be … regular transmissions of mediated nicompoopery won’t divert us sufficiently from the incoming mediocrapocalypse, but luckily JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH  is back with a big uncut slice of the reals thanks to the warp-speed talent of special guest Mr Al “Crazy Legs” Scott on the virtual piano and Mr Loz “Osmium” Thomas (drms) to take you away from all this boring madness on a magic carpet ride of hot sweet swinging music, aided in some manner by me on bass, with a host of potential participants all ready to chip in with their esteemed contributions, rockabilly rebel Sean ‘Flicknife’ Stapleton presiding sharp as a blue steel blade behind the well-stocked bar, the Bad Boys laying out the tasty burgers, badmashes pulling up to the kerb outside, ice crackling on the windows of your draughty overpriced accommodation, Phil the Greek burning it up like Birdbox in his new German whip, stars wheeling overhead, while far away in the cold distance up on the black frozen hillsides lurking like Grokes at the edge of town, deep under the frozen loam, something is stirring, the sap is ready to move in the blasted hedgerows… get ready, as some shitty little AI program gets ready to convert your living pulse into predictive data and flog it to some other numpty, this is the rhythm of the night, this is the rhythm of my life

14th January

When parliamentary process is just too lit and u just wanna chill, when dogs-in-sunglasses memes are simply no longer enough to express your admiration for correct adherence to legislative precedent, when your enthusiasm for reading other people’s furious explanations of what ‘democracy’ means on fb just dies….. let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH take the tension out of your Brexit extension and get the spark back into your tired lil eyes, cos all you have to do is come down, kick back and chill out to the heavy heavy monster sound as our resident experts Luke ‘Freedom Of Movement’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘The Eternal Backstop’ Thomas (drms) lay out another feast of musical good vibrations to bring the people together, aided as ever by me on bass plus the promise of special guests galore… as Jezza and Tezza both try to pull off the ultimate sick chirpse on each other while everyone else yells themselves into a state of hyper-osmatically exacerbated inertia, as the wokest post-millenials yell at each other in Hisbe, as Trumpkin picks his nose and stares at the snow outside his lonely window, we’ll be laying out a bunch of smoking hot jazz-to-blues-to-bop-to-latin-to-beats-to-whatever for the people to enjoy just for kicks, so just block all your dreary collapsitarian mates, pull on yer coat n shoes and get down, don’t be all sad like poor Andy, get happy like you’re laughing at salad, come and join us, join us, get in. 

7th January

New Year came in with a smash and already your poor little head is spinning into a vortex of discombobulation, kids are back at school, you’re back at work or something, China is on the dark side of the moon, what’s to do? … slough off your ideologically ambiguous Yellow Jacket and slouch on down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where we’ll be setting things up for whatever 2019 can throw our way with a shedload of internationally unconstrained blues-to-bop-to-latin-to-groove-to-whatever thanks to the boundary-defying majesty of Luke ‘Unity’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Equity’ Thomas (drms) and they lay out a fresh platter of jazz-related musical goodness for you to load up your extra-size buffet plate with, aided in some manner by me on bass, while the interdimensional entities of the Bee’s Team stand by, waiting in the alluring scented depths of the shadows behind the well-stocked bar to make your guilt-ridden compromised attempt at Dry January as painlessly empowering as possible; as Tezza is ‘seeking further assurances’ and Jezza is ‘biding his time’, as online brexitty yelling reaches fever pitch, as we all prepare to set sail on a fleet of imaginary takeaway ferries, as Greggs continue subvert the patriarchal hegemony via the medium of pastry snacks, who knows what the hell will happen next? Let’s face the music and dance, or something. 

Bees Mouth - December 2018

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. 

Bees Mouth - November 2018

26th November

Now that cushy research post in Doha doesn’t seem quite as appealing, your cruise holiday in the Sea of Azov has been called off, Masterchef is nearly over, nothing to look forward to but the endless hell of yelling Brexitty bullsh*t, followed by Xmas, followed by more Brexit, but now with horrible hench Noel hollering at Holly Willoughby like a malignant but ripped meat dwarf.. let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH swoop down upon you from over the glassy frozen sea, out of the chilly light and autumn’s sere breath from the misty horizon , and bear you up up up upon wings of pure imagination, good grooves, cool swing and hot licks thanks to the imperturbable majesty of Luke “All Killer” Rattenbury (gtr) and the unflappable sang-froid of special guest Angus “No Filler” Bishop (drms), and they lay down some dank stanky sh*t for you to enjoy, aided to some degree by me on bass, and possible special guests of all shapes and sizes, while the fearless buccaneers of the Bee’s Team wait, poised and ready in the scented dusk behind the well-stocked bar, the bag-o-fish guy hovers in the turbid street outside the steamy windows, the badmashes mix with the Bad Boys over a tasty burger … somewhere far away across the darkness at the edge of town, politicos are plotting, Ms May is dutifully writing thank-you letters to herself in a dark dusty cupboard, Jeff Goldblum enrages a generation of Trinity grads by tinkling the ol’ ivories with a knowing leer, Megatron and Optimus battle for command of the shadow zone, but we’ll be safe in here, good things will be happening, so join us, join us…

19th November

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; a time for sticking your fingers in your ears and your head under the pillow, and screaming ‘lalalalala’ til it all goes away - and if that doesn’t work, a time for JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where we’ll be cutting right through through the swathes of misinformational bullshit, celebrity jungle witch hunts, imaginary backstops to backstops, manipulative virtual orang-utans, dank unwholesome memes and needless spiritual shitposting that have been clogging up your poor bruised frontal lobes, and inviting you to join Luke ‘Strong’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Stable’ Thomas (drms) as they set off on a magic carpet ride of good grooves and hot licks, aided by our special guest, the effortlessly debonair George ‘Family man’ Trebar, on bass, while the fearless buccaneers of the Bee’s Team under the command of their intrepid leader Jack Rowan stand by to proffer good vibes and libations of top quality hooch, and out across the wide wide world all kinds of things go down that you won’t need to worry about for a while - that nice Mr Corbyn tends his polls and offers jam tomorrow, Melania carefully rakes up all the brushwood as Donald looks on, Boris checks his Gumtree ads, The Spice Girls prepare their leadership bid, International Men have a day all to themselves to attend to their metrosexual manscaping , the tectonic plates grind away deep below the earth, Mars keeps the lights on, the last leaves are torn screaming from the stunned trees, Orion lifts above the horizon and winks, and somewhere deep within the chilly urban labyrinth a man fills a bag with stolen fish and sets out into the night… come and join us, you’ll be glad you did, you will. 

12th November

Hey! How’ve u been? Forging ahead dynamically like a Sovereign Individual into our exciting Ayn Rand fantasy of a future? Or bumping sadly about like Trump’s abandoned umbrella on the steps of your own grounded Air Force One? Don’t get all neggy n shit - the future’s as bright as a newly minted Brexit 50p, or if not, at least there’s JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH rolling your way down the tracks once again, so park your imaginary weed-stinking Tesla at the curb and jump on board, cos we’re on the scheduled service to good grooves, hot licks and pure joyous musical energy thanks to the indefatigable efforts of Luke ‘The Conductor” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “ A Pound Off The Topline” Thomas (drms) as they see you safe on your journey, aided in some manner by me on bass, while the Ansel Adams of the Optics Jack Rowan and his team of fearless buccaneers preside over the well-stocked bar and outside on the pavements the heavy stained slabs lie mute beneath the restless cavalcade of human traffic, mammals and MAMILS, some glowing in their youth, some strutting in their pride, some bent double, like old beggars under sacks, knock-kneed and coughing like hags, some just trying to get through to the end of the night, while overhead the satellites are spinning, the galaxies are waiting, Mars still hangs burning in the void as the axis tilt yet again, Fortuna’s wheel sends us careening on the way to who knows where? Vassalage, chaos, the Critic’s Round of Masterchef, its all to play for, so grab yer axe and come join us, what’s to lose?

Bees Mouth - October 2018

October 15th

Feeling a bit edgy? 25 degree heat seemed kinda Mediterranean in June, now it just seems sinister? Oktoberfest on the Level just feels like a tactless Brexitty provocation? Beset by a nagging formless dread? Stop playing psychological whack-a-mole with your deepest, most shameful inner terrors and come and join us at JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where spirits can rejoice and music can be the healing force of your ever expanding laminar universe thanks to the tireless energies of Luke ‘Slowhand’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘A Pound On The Topline’ Thomas (drms) as they power on into the night with the good bait, aided by me on bass and whatnot, and all manner of hucksters jivers, smugglers, scramblers, burglars, gamblers, pickpocket peddlers, even panhandlers, plus the fearless buccaneers of the Bee’s Team ready to repel boarders and reward the faithful …. if you’re feeling like some terrible catastrophe is being cooked up by a bunch of scheming no-marks, if it seems likely that the blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere the ceremony of innocence is drowned; if you reckon that the best lack all conviction, while the worst have the mostest Insta likes - if you didn’t manage to book a holiday in Thailand over the approaching endless half-term - if you tried ASMR and it just made you feel creeped out - if you’re a jubilant royalist or an ostentatiously indifferent republican, set aside your differences, hang up your hang ups and come and join us, join us, the season is on the wane, Fortuna’s wheel begins to spin again

October 1st

As M. Aznavourian and Geoffrey fly hand in hand up above the streets and houses, rainbow climbing high, saying bye-bye to this vale of tears, to the smoky tendrils of autumn creeping around us, to those vital Brexit negotiations, now safe in the shabby velour hands of Zippy, George and Bungle, to Mrs May choking back her tears and assuring us we’ll soon be hitting 80 in our German whips, to Trump and his trumping and Ye and his yeyeyeye, JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH will be continuing to operate at full strength thanks to the eternal flames manifesting on this material plane as Luke “Killer Dilla” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Driller Killer” Thomas (drms) as they serve up another smorgsasbord of musical delights to refresh your jaded frontal lobes and realign your vibe, aided in some manner by me on bass, while the fearless buccaneers of the Bee’s Team under the command of their fleet-fingered captain Jack Rowan stand by to repel boarders, bringdowns and buzzkills with their magic healing liquors, the bad boys and badmashes line the glittering kerb outside, stray freshers staggger in circles,and down on the beach where the sea meets the moon-blanched land the planets burn in the sky over the shingle’s grating roar…. don’t sit glued to your stupid phone waiting for the next usage update, that sorta defeats the point, yeah? don’t wait for the hapless collection of backstabbers feebs, schlemils, and sappy poindexters that have somehow ended up in charge of our collective destiny to get their shit together… get down to where it’s on, you can do the milly rock, you can do the stanky leg, you can just do your thing, it’s beautiful baby. 

Bees Mouth - September 2018

Sept 24th

OMG!! Everyone’s gone conference crazy!! Out on the dusty fringes UKIP were really digging into their special thing, angrily floating ideas like big shit-filled balloons to burst over their own screwed up faces, while not even Vince’s erotic spasm could make his lot seem sexy, but that’s small stuff compared to terrifying Brexity monsters now crashing around in the political arena… centre yourself amid the tension by getting down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH and taking a deep healing breath, cos we’ve got a lasting mandate to deliver real liberation to everyone everywhere for ever thanks to the steady eye and fearless hand of man like Luke ‘Crypto” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Cash Is King” Thomas (drms) as they demonstrate pure freedom of movement and, like, totally harmonised regulation to deliver another summit meeting of hot swing, cool funk & all kinds of good stuff crossing and recrossing the frictionless musical borders in between, aided by me on bass, while fearless buccaneer Captain Jack Rowan and his crew batten down the hatches and prepare to ride out the Prolonged Period Of Uncertainty with their precious cargo of the finest liquors known to man, while Jezza and Big Mac dressed as dandy highwaymen try to ride multiple horses at once, everyone threatens to deselect everyone else, while the Maybot grins fixedly at you from the centre of her burning bush, while Boris sharpens his knife in his stinking basement and everyone else waits to see just what the hell is going to happen next, cos it could go any way, couldn’t it? Don’t sit at home like an unexpected item in life’s bagging area, don’t watch the Bodyguard again, join us, Libdems or mandems, lovers, losers, fighters, baby sharks or tiny dancers, this is real life and it’s happening RIGHT NOW… jack jack jack jack your body.

Sept 17th

It no joke, is it? Beavering away at the digital coalface, trying to keep on top of the torrent of incoming while sharing your outgoing in the hope that someone somewhere cares, sticking your head up above the virtual parapet so your voice gets heard above the susurrus, hurly-burly, mounting hubbub and general frou—frou, as all your bitcoin turns to shitcoin and a host of digital platforms rise and fall like the waves on a boundless boring ocean… JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is back to give you a big healing dose of IRL so cut yourself loose and put that spring back in your step, cos we’re back on the regular thanks to the tireless musical audacity of Luke ‘Homeboy’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Cash Is King” Thomas (drms) as they weave another web of good grooves and hot licks for you to get wrapped all around your poor aching frontal lobes, while the fearless buccaneers of the Bee’s Team stand by under the command of their captain Jack Rowan, ready to repel boarders and belay any un-called for argy-bargy to keep the vibe sweet, and the streets outside are alive with all kinds of bad boys, badmashes, movers, shakers, tricksters and fakers, travellers from antique lands, followers of false prophets, dawn treaders and easy riders, and Lib Dems in search of a purpose..... as the spectral calm of summer’s end drifts down from the shining cerulean, as the kids go back to school to try and learn what to do next, what to do next, as the Mercury nominations for Best Artists Previously Nominated For The Mercury Prize remind us all of the simpler days of Myspace, food hashtags and lolcats, as May and her band of backstabbers play Deal Or No Deal with all our futures, as we all seem to be waiting for the next BIG THING to drop, you should take the time out and come and join us

Sept 10th

Holidays are over, you muppets, time’s getting on, there’s no time for any wishy-washy namby-pamby flip-flopping - important steps need to be taken and they need to be taken now by the Adults In The Room, and that means YOU! Time to set your jaw, clench your fists, grit your teeth and buckle up, double down, upscale, downsize and get your sh*t together, and when you’re done, take a deep breath and get down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH cos we’ll be flying higher than Elon Musk at a shareholder’s meeting thanks to the magical talents of Luke ‘Laserquest’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Youthquake” Thomas (drms) as they send all bad vibes off for mandatory deselection, adopt all the internationally recognised definitions of Hot Swinging Grooves, and fill the air with music … I’ll be along on bass, fearless captain Jack Rowan will be at the helm with his crew of buccaneers to man the pumps and serve up libations of the finest liquors known to man, the pallid creatures of the night will shuffle past outside, the Bad Boys will be flipping tasty burgers and the local badmashes will be parking illegally just for lulz… as we all wait for Mr Johnson to put his dogwhistle to his lips and cry, you know, havoc n stuff, as Mars burns bright in the sky above, as the earth shifts again on its axis and the sap runs slower, as the last swallows dart low over the drying stubble, let’s keep the faith, people…come an join us, let’s make some noise.

Sept 3rd

As you hang, breathless, poised like a diver on the summers furthest brink, ready for the breath of autumn to bring you crashing down down down, your heart heavy with nostalgia, your skin burnt by the sun... let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH ease your passing into the next phase, cos we’re gearing up for a phenomenal autumnal shitstorm of sound bites as those busy little orange hands peck at the tweetdeck, Eurocrats get their resting bitch faces on for the next round, everyone stocks up on rotten tomatoes for Conference Season,Mr Corbyn mumbles something ineffectual into his beardie beard, Mr Putin smirks into his tea but doesn’t drink it, Netenyahoo spits into his own eye, Boris, “Tommy” and Blotchy Steve B exchange sexy winks, all manner of unholy alliances congeal across the greasy wastes of cyberspace, and the Maybot dances, dances, dances her way along the corridors of power with the grace of a spavined horse... take heart as the team of Luke ‘Boethius’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Fortuna’s Wheel’ Thomas (drms) return to spin a web of theology, geometry and musical good vibes just for you, aided by special guest maestro Nigel Thomas on bass, and all your fave local characters come out to play ..mustachioed Byronic hero Jack Rowan will be heading up the mighty Bee’s Team of fearless buccaneers, the music will be hot, sweet and vital, mars will be burning bright in the sky above, and you should come, you really should. 

Bees Mouth - August 2018

20th August

There you are, chasing down the last days of summer in your gender-neutral floral lycra outfit, keeping it real at the barbie with some Jamie’s Jerk Rice, getting wavy like William Hague, editing your insta beach selfies at the airport, laughing with salad, living the dream… but is it all enough to keep the existential terror of your inevitable extinction at bay? Not quite? Let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH step in to fill the howling vortex that lurks behind your resting bitch face, cos we’ll be back for reals with those classic-yet-contemporary avatars of vernal positivity Luke ‘Big Trouble In Little China” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘The Last Airbender” Thomas (drms) as they give vent to artistic expression of pure swinging good vibes to promote that healing feeling out into the ether, so you can just step right up and diver into it like it’s some kinda clear limpid lagoon fringed with coral sand.. I’ll be there on bass doing some stuff, the legendary Bee’s team will be standing by with trans-dimensional libations of quality liquor from deep within the centre of the multiverse, the Bad Boys will be flipping tasty burgers as the cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast at any time of day, that psychotic east African dude will be on the corner, ministering unto his disciples with his little radio, the players will cruise past in their muscle cars and the regular working stiffs will be cutting loose and the night shift will be revving up.. don’t stay trapped in the quiet lacuna between the sheer animalistic Id-fest frenzy of Love Island and the rigidly heirarchical Super-ego domination of Bake-Off, get with the beat and come and join us, join us, the time is now.

Bees Mouth - July

July 30th

As Brighton braces itself before the approaching Tsunami of fabulousness about to splash onto our pebbly shores in a rainbow coloured wash with Britney riding the spume like a blinged up Nereid, the fainter hearted amongst us may be tempted to bolt for the holiday break like our noble and hardworking politicians, taking back control by doing nothing at all, but before you hit the open sore that is Stansted in your pursuit of the sun, stop off at JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where you’ll find the heatwave is still in full effect thanks to the unwavering front of high pressure created by those masters of groove Luke ‘Gulf Stream’ Rattenbury (gtr) and special guest Tristan ’T-Bone’ Banks (drms) as they get busy at the molecular level to set up a forcefield of good vibrations for you all to come and shelter in … I’ll be doing whatevs on bass, the immaculate ascended beings of the Bee’s team will be waiting, poised in the scented shadows behind the well-stocked bar, the creatures of the night will come and go, come and go on the crowded pavement outside, the velvet darkness above the crumbling rooftops will be alive with stars and possibilities, and you should really get out of that subreddit you’ve been stuck in, shitposting your way to loneliness, and come and join us as we celebrate whatever the hell is going to happen next, leave your hangups at the door and come and get down with the good groove, you know it makes sense…

July 23rd

The lambent cerulean envelops us, stretching above like a giant resounding bell sending waves of heat in a noiseless tocsin to drown the petty concerns of our time-snarled mortality, each second swollen with warmth into a motionless moment, the only movement from the screaming swifts riding the soaring updraughts… which is just as well, as our mortal affairs have never been in such a hopeless frickin mess, so it’s just as well that JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is here once again to provide a moment of clarity in a world where ‘would’ means ‘wouldn’t’, ‘Deal or No Deal’ is now a current affairs programme, no-one understands whether a ‘Tory Rebel’ is one of the idiots in a top hat or one of the other idiots trying to thwart them, and the only credible opposition to it all is too busy arguing about how rude you can be to Jews to get themselves together… luckily we have the united front of Luke ‘Chief Whip’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Black Rod’ Thomas (drms) doing their thing to create a better world by filling our little corner of it with a force field of hot swinging blues-to-bop-to-whatever, aided in some manner by me on bass, and the embodied vibrations of positivity known on this plane as the Bee’s Team standing by ready with the quality hooch to ease your troubled mind… don’t hunker down in a dingy basement, stockpiled with Huel against the coming Brexitopalypse, waiting for the invisible worm that flies in the night in the howling storm to seek out YOUR bed of crimson joy, don’t watch another youtube video as long as you live, don't forget the petrichor will return, don’t give up, don’t lose that number, just grab yer axe off the shelf and come and join us, let’s do a thing.

July 16th

As the sun beats endlessly down from the unblemished cerulean, is there a shadow starting to cloud the edges of your overstimulated consciousness? Maybe all those plastic straws you used in the 90s have precipitated the next level of climate change, maybe the Love Island bods are just bots, maybe the internet isn’t really a force for good, maybe it won’t be alright after all? Thanks god it’s Monday and JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is back to offer a safe haven in the ominous shitstorm brewing up outside, where nothing’s coming home except Brexit, as the government crumbles away into a puff of acrid dust, the inflatable Trumpkin and Mr Putin snicker and pass each other secret love notes at the back of the class, and Elon Musk reveals himself to be every bit as spiritually stunted as we all suspected, cos we’ve got Luke ‘Lightsabre’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Cosmic Vibrations” Thomas (drms) sending out a counterblast of pure musical good vibes to top up your feelgood factor and send you out ready for whatever new example of howling idiocy the week may have in store… I’ll be along doing something on bass as per, Captain Jack will be at the helm with his trusty Bee’s crew ready to slake your thirst with libations of top grade hooch, all kinds of good things will be happening, so hang up your hangups, get on the good foot and come and join us, let’s make it happen.

July 9th

Off they go hand in hand… exit from Brexit Island for Mr Davis AND Bojo in their Union Jack bikinis, (but who’s getting mugged off here?), entry for the invincible head of Mr Maguire on his enchanted inflatable unicorn of magical footballing wish fulfilment, while the giant inflatable Trumpkin prepares to treat us all to a round of maximum high-security golf .. if you can’t possibly imagine what might be about to happen next, don’t get stressy, let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH be your anchor, cos we’re back once again like the D4 damagers spreading peace, love and power to the people through the medium of hot swinging blues-to-bop-to-whatever thanks to the tireless efforts of Luke “Renegade Master’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Ill Behaviour” Thomas (drms) as they lay out a magic carpet ride powered by good musical vibrations to lift you high over the sun-scorched rooftops, baby seagulls, daredevil scaffolders, boy racers, paddle boarder show offs, those wierd leathery old men like desiccated mummies in tiny tiny cut-off shorts who only appear on the beach when there’s more than three days of consecutive sunshine, sweating unhappy goths waiting for the darkness to return, a thousand jubilant geezers sporting their deepening salmon tans, and the acrid smoke and stench of scorched flesh from the beach barbecues, as the radiant sun beats down from the peerless azure until Venus hangs low over the horizon and the languid zephyrs kick up the dust…I’ll be doing something or other on bass, the supernatural ascended beings of the Bee’s team will be laying out the quality hooch, your favourite creatures of the night will all be there, so quit lolling about in from of your overheated screen, lurking behind your digital blackface as you seek further shitposting opportunities, quit casting about for a Bojo joke that hasn’t already been made, quit your fruitless brexitty speculation and bask in the knowledge that no-one knows anything anymore, get back on the good foot and come and join us, be a shining star and keep your head to the sky….

July 2nd

England in, Germany out? Willy Hague frees the weed, sun shining on bank holidays, double Dyer whammy enriches our cultural and political lives as Dani weeps and Danny deploys his finest geezer vocab to elucidate the finer points of Brexit in ways that poor Maybot can only dream of as she slowly withers away like a witch with a chimney on her.. if you feel you’re living in a dream world where anything is possible, JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH returns to reassure you that it’s all part of the plan, so come and bask in the permanent zone of high pressure created by those masters of the musical isobars Luke ‘Heatwave’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Scorchio’ Thomas (drms) as they scoop up all the millions of notes left lying around in heaps after the weekend’s Love Supreme jazzfest and refashion them into delicious slices of cool swinging bop-to-blues-to-whatever to slake your parched cerebellum, plus maybe some souped-up bossa (dependent on final score) … I’ll be there playing something on bass and yelling like a nutcase, between the sun-baked stucco cliffs the streets will resound with the rubbery whisper of the flip-flops of a thousand excited/despondent latinos, the golden denizens of the endless ultraworld known in this dimension as the Bee’s Team will be waiting in the scented shadows behind the well-stocked bar to slake your thirst with some quality liquor - don’t bother trying to get wavy like a rebel for the last time before they make it legal, don’t be a sulky Messi, be an exultant Drogba, grab yer axe and come and join us, let’s celebrate.

Bees Mouth - June

June 18th

How will you feel by 9.30 tonight? Like a fearless lion taking back control, setting the agenda, cutting your own deals on the world stage, basking in the fierce heat of the big golden dividend? Or like a miserable cringing loser, cowering and snarling like a whipped cur at the big dogs strutting past and ignoring you as you tremble and piss yourself under the table? Or are you just going to make out like you’re so evolved that you just don’t care? JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH will be there to help you celebrate in ways the clean cut yet manly Mr Kane* can only dream about, or wipe away your bitter tears of defeat, or just generally help you deal with the feels, cos we’ll have the true dream team of Luke ‘The Golden Striker’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Crusher’ Thomas (drms) ready to lay out another hot & spicy gumbo of simmering blues-to-bop-to-whatever to satisfy whatever craving you may be afflicted with, I’ll be doing some kinda something on bass, plus the interdimensional A-listers of the Bee’s team will be ready to lay out the quality liquor at your command, and the usual cast of waifs and strays, hucksters and hipsters, high rollers and low riders, and the nameless denizens of the liminal spaces just glimpsed out of the corner of your eye at the end of the echoing street will be dropping by to check out the vibe… now that gamers can prove that they’re addicts like everyone else and not just regular dweebs or schlemiels maybe we’ll even see some of their pasty little faces as well… come one, come all, grab yer axe and come and sit in with us, the time is now. 

*“He does not go to nightclubs, preferring to use his free time to play golf.” Parker, Sam (3 June 2015).Esquire. Retrieved 27 August 2015.

June 11th

As London still reels from the weekend’s triple whammy of Nazis, nudists and suffragettes, like a Lars Von Trier movie in reals, and Brighton resounds to the whisper of chafing flesh and clicking gears as the Naked Bike ride and its display of liberated, predominantly male sex organs on wheels retreats into the bruised collective unconscious for another year, how are YOU on this sunny day? Let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH take over for the evening, be you chipper, or fearful and tearful, like bad things coming, cos we’ll be here once again in our vibey little heterotopia thanks to those master enchanters Luke ‘Sun’s Out’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Guns Out’ Thomas (drms) as they weave another web of good grooves, hot licks and pure bop-to-blues-to-whatever to wrap yourself in and reconnect with the huge ever growing pulsating brain that rules from the centre of the ultraworld…. I’ll be up to something on bass as per, the nodes of pure cosmic energy that manifest themselves on this plane as the Bee’s Team will be waiting to make with the quality liquors at your weary, hopeful request, the nameless creatures of the night will awaken to pace soundlessly past on the warm, stained asphalt outside, high in the darkening cerulean the swifts will fly in tireless pursuit…. maybe the upcoming footerfest will inevitably descend into yet another example of the UK making a disorderly retreat from an international organisation, maybe Kimmy and Donny just won’t be able to play nicely together, maybe you’ll never be beach body ready, don’t worry, don’t get mad, come and join us, it’s gonna be a stone groove…

June 5th

The festival is finally over, taking it’s ladyboys, ukeleles, and calculatedly artless Shrigleyesque whimsy away with it for ever and ever, and now you’re here in the sorta-sunsine, still nervous about getting trampled underfoot by the whisper-quiet rampaging of the sinister cult-like Silent Disco crew, but alive, that’s the main thing… fill the suddenly yawning cultural chasm in the centre of your life with a visit to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH, where instead of watching Love Island for the next eight weeks glued to the soiled coverlet of your tawdry sofa you can boost your own internal ratings and recouple with the wellspring of hot swinging bop-to-blues-to-groove-to-whatever that finds it’s physical expression in the sculpted forms of Luke “By Royal Appointment” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Fire In The Hole” Thomas (drms) as they smash out another evening’s worth of enriching musical good times …. I’ll be doing something or other on bass, the Bee’s team will be attentive, yet respectful, like the multidimensional ascended beings they are, so come and join us all, parents celebrating the end of half term, pedagogues worn and jaded from composing another mountain of admonitory feedback in the relevant boxes in the submission software, nutcases, swagmen, barkers, mountebanks, smugglers, scramblers, burglars, gamblers
pickpocket peddlers, even panhandlers, come and join the carnival, it’s not over, it’s not nearly over, it’s the beginning of the rest of what’s to come.

Bees Mouth - May

28th May

How are you, as this Bank Holiday draws to a close? Feeling blessed as some “New Look” royals at their wedding disco? Running for cover from big Brexity thunderclouds getting ready to dump their sh*t all over your sh*t? Lost as Taylor in Swansea, smashing it like Stormy D, raging like Ramos or sad like Salah? Quit your kvetching and get yourself down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where we’ll be living it large and colourful as the last reflected embers of the sun sinking into the glassy sea, thanks to the tireless talents of Luke ‘By Royal Appointment’ Rattenbury (gtr) and special guest Angus ‘The Dank Commander’ Bishop (drms) as they take us on a magic carpet ride of swinging blues-to-bop-to-whatever, high, high into the air over the scarlet castellated ramparts and crimson minarets, into the pellucid vault where the swifts dart, the scented air alive wth their tiny cries, the towering nimbuses edged with gold, the first star hauling into sight above the darkling forests of the horizon… I’ll be doing something or other on bass, the nameless legions of the night will come and go in the echoing street outside, the immaculate naiads and dryads of the bee’s team will be on hand to make with the quality beverages, we’ll be playing some stuff and you can come and join in so don’t sit in the smelly darkness getting your measly data harvested yet again by some non-GDPR compliant digital vampire, put on yer huaraches and come and give it yer all, time’s a-ticking.

21st May

There’s no more Great Escape to fill the streets with the musical expression of a thousand pairs of introspective skinny jeans… there’s no more expensive pageantry for Republicans to practice their furious indifference on… even French Montana’s new Boohoo line seems to have run dry of creative inspiration.. it’s enough to make you click on ‘Opt-Out’ on the big GDPS e-mail of life as we go back to the dreary unspooling Brexit farce .. but wait half a mo! JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is still there, waiting behind the numinous shimmering warmth of midday til the evening comes and we unleash another dose of electric kool-aid acid test sound and colour thanks to the positively synaesthesic talents of Luke ‘By Royal Appointment’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Jean-Paul Marat’ Thomas (drms) as they turn on the taps to release an endless refreshing torrent of hot licks and cool grooves to speak to your own inner kandy koloured tangerine-flake streamline baby….I’ll be doing something on bass, the regular Bee’s team will be there to make with the libations of top-notch hooch, the nameless legions of the night will be doing their thing on the endless pavement outside, and we’ll all be pulling together to keep our microcosm on the good side til the End Times come to take all the hate mongers away so put the sweary fun of Deadpool 2 aside for a little longer - if you’re lost and alone, if if your feelings about Rapture-inducing embassy relocations can no longer be expressed by even the dankest of memes, if you’re caught in the irreconcilable culture gap between Solo and Deadpool 2, don’t sweat it, grab yer axe down off the shelf and come and join us, join us, it’s gonna be ok.

14th May

Ahoy! Time to cast aside the creative ambiguity and make with the positive engagement cos summer is sorta here, we’re nearly done with shivering in the chilly Spiegeltent and wondering at the timeless grace of non-binary performers from the exotic east, our beaches have already been blessed with the scarlet-and-blue of tattooed sunburn and perfumed with the chemical stench of disposable barbecue, and JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is rolling on it’s way in Helios’ scorched wake into the depths of the awaiting summer, with those prophets of the canicular days Luke ‘Lightspeed Champion’ Rattenbury (gtr) and special guest Angus ‘Phew Wotta Scorcher’ Bishop (drms) ready and eager to whip up a storm of hot swinging blues-to-bop-to-whatever, aided by me on bass, as the aetherial beings of the Bee’s team wait, more radiant than ever, poised in majestic readiness behind the well-stocked bar… if you seem to hear a thousand twangling instruments humming about your ears, that’s just the inevitable massed ukeleles of the fringe festival, and if in dreaming the clouds seemed to drop such riches upon you that when you waked, you cried to dream again, well we’ve all had weekends like that, haven’t we, but don’t let them get you down, the Trumpkin hasn’t managed to blow everyone’s house down yet no matter how he huffs and puffs, so grab yer axe off the shelf and come and join us, join us, life’s what you make it.

Bees Mouth March 2018

March 26th

So spring is here, Big Brother is finally revealed to be a camp pink-haired Canadian, the Beast From The East continues to gain depth as a metaphor while Stormy Daniels is revealed as far, far more than a high-pressure weather front, Zizzi has become the edgy frontline of a new cold war amidst the outrage of the nation’s saturday shoppers, and Nigel F*cking Farage is still with us, pissing about with some dead fish….. confused? Let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH provide your disordered cerebellum with some context to sort out the wheat from the chaff and the sheep from the goats, by sending a rushing torrent of musical good vibes in your direction thanks to the tireless ministrations of Luke ‘Sturm’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Drang’ Thomas (drms) plus me on bass, and the regular crew of highly evolved multi-dimensional beings waiting behind the well-stocked bar to pour you libations of the finest liquors known to man, plus the regular crew of shimmering shapeshifters, nameless creatures of the night, schlemils and schnorrers, schmoes, weepers, jeepsters, souses, hopheads and the occasional stuffed shirt…. if the turgid sludge of disinformation pushing it’s way onto your compromised newsfeed is messing with your vibe, if all your data has migrated onto the darkweb and is now trying to kill you, if you just can’t tell which way is up any more, then just remember your device isn’t implanted yet, hit ‘off’, grab yer axe off the shelf and come and join us… soon the voice of the cuckoo will be heard across the land, the woods at dawn will be alive with the wild cleansing cacophony of tiny cries, out across the swelling tide the herring will begin to spawn, the world turns on it’s axis, we’re still here and so should you be…

March 19th

Bored of weather that only climate change deniers are enjoying? BoJo’s Latin tags failing to raise a smile? YouTube’s freshest face plants barely raising a callous smirk? You need to get out more, so photoshop yourself into a big furry hat and snowshoes and get down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where we’ll be raising the temperature with the torrid stylings of Luke ‘Fahrenheit 451’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Thermonuclear Sweat’ Thomas (drms) as they cut loose with another turbulent yet perfectly choreographed melee of bop-to-blues-to-beats-to-whatever, aided by me on bass, guaranteed to warm your non-gendered cockles despite the unintelligible protestations of that chilly Dr Peterson and his online army of intersectionally aggrieved gonks, while the lambent pellucid denizens of the mysterious shadows behind the well-stocked bar wait, vibrating imperceptibly, to pour you a libation of quality liquor under the watchful eye of dauntless fret-meister Jack Rowan... quit pining for the carefree Zorbing days of summer, stop your twitchy little fb fingers delivering the last vestiges of your so-called personality into Cambridge Analytica’s bottomless maw, put yourself and your opinions temporarily beyond the reach of Vladdy ‘Laughing Boy’ Putnik’s busy bots ... don’t get mad, don’t even try to get even, just get down to where the good vibes are, we’ll be waiting.

Bees Mouth - February 2018

February 26th

The chill winds are here, the snow swirling like the frozen tears falling soundlessly from Iain McNicol’s sad centrist eyes, eddying the lost souls trying to stave off their inevitable demise with military fitness in the blasted parks, the politically de-homed trying to survive the city centre winter in their discount tents, the working stiffs shivering at their mundane bus stops, the hardened thrill-seekers setting out in search of love or lulz… JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH will have you in out of the cold quicker than a Pyongyang downhill luge team just by rocking up and basking in the musical radiance pouring forth in an untrammelled stream from those twin creative hypernovas Luke ‘Big Chill” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Big Ill” Thomas (drms) as they transmogrify themselves into clear channels for transmitting the purest essence of swing-to-funk-to-bop-to whatever to drive that spiritual hypothermia away and get your core temp back up to where it should be… I’ll be on bass, the gently shimmering ascended beings of the Bee’s team will be on hand under the watchful eye of dandy highwayman Jack Rowan, ready to make with the quality liquor at your merest whim, the vibe will be strong and the juice will be loose… as those fun-loving Italians go all retro-mad for fascist vibes, as sweetly beardy Mr C boldly mounts two horses midstream, as poor mad Mrs May runs slowly but surely out of political sellotape, as musical recycler Rag n’ Bone man sweeps up after setting fire to the West Pier like a badman, why don’t you just leave em all to it for an eve and give yourself a trip to the good side with us, you know you won’t regret it…

February 19th

Hello, you! Still here? Maybe your BAFTA invite got lost in the post, maybe the Olympic tea-tray downhill team deleted u from the Whatsapp group, and now you’re starting to fade out of your highschool yearbook photos and behind your brave tats n’ piercings there’s just a howling void of interdimensional emptiness, like something from an HP Lovecraft joint (but without Howard’s fave white supremacy angle, natch - it’s 2018!) - well, rest easy, cos JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is right back here to pick you right back up onto your mahabi shod feet and back into the world of the living, the bold, brave and beautiful… jump aboard with Mr Luke ‘The Fast’ Rattenbury (gtr) and returning hero Mr Loz ‘The Furious” Thomas (drms) as they set off on a journey of musical adventure, hot licks, dope grooves, sick beats and augmented harmony so there’s something for everyone, aided by me on bass, while the shimmering sylphs and naiads of the Bee’s team wait expectantly in the scented shadows behind the well-stocked bar …maybe Mr Weinstein never returned your calls, maybe other people are barely bothering with Othering you anymore, maybe even the Russian bots aren’t that interested, maybe your yoga shred put you in A & E and then you found there was no A & E because of UNDERFUNDING…. whatever your woes we’ve got the juice to cut you loose so don’t get mad, don’t even try to get even, just get on down to where the good stuff is..

February 12th

It’s a jungle out there.. in the cruel wind your hapless pedestrians are scurrying home to a vindictive evenings work doxing each other at will.. bad allies are buying up the Britney tickets .. the whole gender face swap thing is awakening feelings that the feelers never knew they had as everyone else is getting kinda creeped .. JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH can be an island in the stream of endless poststructuralist goo flowing past your poor quivering frontal lobes as your mindfulness turns to mindf*ckery and your fragile identity cracks and splinters in the unforgiving frost.. let jolly boatman Luke ‘Charon’ Rattenbury (gtr) and pirate chief Tristan ‘T-Bone’ Banks (drms) ferry you safely across the turbulent waters, aided by me on bass, and let the healing power of hot licks cool grooves and top quality blues-to-bop-to-whatever calm your troubled soul ... as the nation’s leaders rage impotently at each other while the nation watches helplessly like a traumatised child huddled at the top of the stairs while his angry drunk parents yell at each other about ‘separation bills’ and ‘transition periods’, as the smiling Koreans keep skating, skating, skating away, as everyone suddenly feels all icky about those cheap box sets they bought from Oxfam, as more and more wierd shit reaches out from your telescreens to grab you, we’ll be keeping it warm and funky just for you, so don’t get mad, get on down and join us.

February 5th

Cry havoc and lets loose the dogs of whatever.. while you’ve been stuck at home, trying to offload your enfeebled cryptos to a bigger cuck or desperately tweetdeck your way out of the hole, your fitbit ready to burst keeping up with your stress levels, your mindfulness vids on youtube repeat view nausing you out with their subliminal flat-earther messages and an inner well of loneliness brimming over no matter how hard you right-swipe - JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is back today, ready to shower your parched psyche with the healing rains like a stick, like a stone, like the end of the road, like the aguas de marco, pouring down in an endless rushing stream from those twin founts of talent Luke ‘The Weatherman’ Rattenbury (gtr) and everyone’s favourite pirate chief Tristan ’T-Bone’ Banks (drms), with some form of assistance on offer from me on bass and the usual radiant ascended beings of the Bee’s team manifesting on this earthly plane just for you…. let’s face it, what else are you going to get from the online? Another piece of brobdingnagian offensiveness from Mr Trump and his busy scurrying cynical little twitterfingers? Another evening weeding out your DVD collection, you sad Babyboomer, as another 70s star of stage or screen gets MeToo’d into the outer darkness? Another concoction of tendentious tripe from whatever attention seeking opinion generator the algorhythms are sending your way on this cold bleak beautiful night? Switch it all off and come and join us where the vibe is free, the music is hot and sweet, the mysterious creatures of the darkling hours are out in force, everything is beautiful…

Bees Mouth - January 2018

29th January

Signs of flux and change are all around.. the streets are full of sad-eyed President’s club regulars, looking for love in their stained and rumpled black-tie, the Tories are in thrall to a spider-toting fireplace salesman like something from Bond as scripted by Partridge, the privileged and connectivity-empowered are flinging hashtags back and forth at each other while everyone else ducks for cover.. let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH provide you all with a much-needed break from the sheer, y’know, longness of it all, and create a lovingly curated heterotopia where you can forget about your ongoing struggles to zuzh up the meagre collection of tics and tropes that you think of as your identity and just lie back in the rushing torrent of good musical vibrations bursting forth like an ever-flowing stream from the twin creative powerhouses of Luke ‘Timeless’ Rattenbury (gtr) and special guest Tristan ’T-Bone’ Banks (drms), gamely aided along by me on bass, your senses soothed by a healing libation proffered by the spectral avatars manifesting on this plane as the Bee’s Team under the command of their bold leader … as the Trumpkin pretends he’s never even looked at the wedding list or knowingly linked the word ‘first’ with any sovereign nation, as the Maybot squawks and flaps her dusty wings, you just kick back, let dogs delight to bark and bite, let trolls lurk in their smelly rank ditches beneath the virtual bridges over which you once delighted to trip-trap, let the endless round of frantic signalling continue as out there beyond the perimeter things get ugly, ugly, ugly….. don’t get mad, don’t even try to get even, just get down to where the good groove is happening, it’s ok, we’ll be waiting.

22nd January

Here you are, midwinter, huddled in your flimsy heterotopian refuges like flyblown cattle, gazing through giant tear-dimmed eyes at the sorry parade of fatuity as it scrolls across your tethered devices, a carnival of filibustering know-nothings fretting and strutting their little hour upon their media platforms - don’t get mad, don’t try to get even, get down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH and let the whole sorry crew go hang, cos we’ll be creating our own plastic-free microclimate thanks to Luke ‘Isobar’ Rattenbury (gtr) generating areas of high pressure, hot licks and imperturbable swing, and Loz ‘Solar Storm’ Thomas (drms) tapping into some deep geothermal grooves, plus me on bass, and the bronzed harbingers of endless summer who comprise the Bee’s team standing by with offerings of the finest liquors known to man... winter’s hired goons may be waiting at your door ready to lay their tiresome seasonal trip on your poor freezing bones, yet out across the darkened fields at the edge of town the sap is starting to rise in the withered hedgerow and in the inky depths of the sea the herring are starting to spawn ... join us, let’s get the fires burning.

15th January

Is this the best that 2018 can come up with? Journos saying ‘shithole’ on the radio? UKIP glamour models expounding eugenics for morons? Waiting for Jezza to say something he hasn’t already said in the 80s? Marillion jokes about Carillion? Jeremy Hunt and Chris F*ckin Grayling? Thank your interdenominational deity (if any) for JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where we’ll be keeping it so fresh and so clean thanks to those twin titans of good groove Luke ‘The Velvet Fog’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Tristan ‘T-Bone’ Banks as they bust loose with an overflowing cornucopia of hot licks and life-affirming grooves ... if you already feel jaded, if the grey is getting to ya, if all around you seem sunk in pusillanimity and vacuous posturing, if even your most committed signalling on social media just seems like screaming into an empty stinky void, if the best lack all conviction and the worst are full of passionate intensity, if you still can’t say ‘veganuary’ with a straight face and your woke chums are getting totes vexed, then you need to hang up your hang ups, get on the good foot, grab yer axe den off the shelf and come and join us... it’s all to play for, what are you waiting for? Come on, come over...

8th January

G’wan, admit it, you’ve got the winter blues! Even with all 3 TV screens going full pelt, your shirts on the floor, your toothbrush under lock and key and a triple cheeseburger in your chubby little orange paws, you still feel the frigid iron breath of winter whispering over your comb-over, pulling at your heels, messing with your Netflix n’ chill - it’s time to get onto the good foot, and JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is here right on cue to take your poor frightened hand and lead you into the light, thanks to the matchless skills of Luke ‘Game Of Thrones’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Thermonuclear Sweat’ Thomas (drms) as they unleash a blast of pure healing musical good vibes in every direction, iaded by me on bass and the aetherial beings of the Bee’s team ready to make with the quality liquors… the seasonal family guilt trip of Xmas is past, you’re over pursuing the phantom of pleasure through the guilty maze of dissipation, the frantic search for the ultimate hedonistic fulfilment on NYE has turned out to be a wild goose chase yet again… far away in the stuffy double-glazed corridors of power Brexiteers are sweating and plotting, Ms May is reshuffling her stacked thumbed deck, that kindly old Mr Corbyn - remember him? - is beaming beneficently at everyone while Jon Landesman looks up ‘youthquake’ in the OED for the umpteenth time, Toby Young is leering guiltily at himself in the mirror, like a man farting in a hot car while eating a scotch egg, the usual suspects are psyching themselves up to deliver whatever fresh farrago of bullshit they can spray at us all for the usual tendentious justifications… no need to run, and hide, it’s a wonderful wonderful life, come and grab yer axe down off the shelf as join us as we light a fire, its going to be a fine night tonight.

Bees Mouth - December 2017

18th December

As we hurtle through the gathering equinoctial darkness, our twitchy fingers skipping across the keyboard as the 1-click ordering gathers pace, as our poor overstimulated cerebellums yearn for the Jungian memory of the days when all that the season expected of us was to get naked and dance around a bonfire, as the freezing night is rendered foul with the stench of mulled wine and the harsh carking cries of disgruntled Brexiteers … JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is on hand to provide sanctuary for your own bad self, so come and deliver yourself, not into the dreary frustration of the metaphorical sorting office or neighbour’s porch, but signed-for and straight into the welcoming sonic sanctuary created by the matchless talents of Luke ‘Hermes’ Rattenbury (gtr) and special guest Tristan ’T Bone The Barbarian’ Banks (drms), aided by me on bass, while the heavenly messengers of the Bee’s team will be waiting, arrayed in garments of matchless splendour, under the watchful command of their leader, the dandy highwayman Jack Rowan, to make with the quality liquors at your command - so bring your top game and your Migos flow down to the party and let’s have ourselves a time… another cycle is nearing it’s end, Fortuna’s wheel is about to rev itself up again, so time for everyone to climb aboad - fighters, lovers, losers and winners, malignant spambots, broflakes snarling thru their tears, presidential twitter trolls and penniless Brexit agitators down to their last 73-grand-a-year, signifying vegans and recreational outrage addicts, bitcoin revolutionaries turning into Daddy Warbucks thru the magic of capitalism, pro footballers and other outcasts, amateur dancers, multi cultural royals and Uber drivers… give up yourself unto the moment, the time is now…

4th December

Calling all you woke gender-diverse humanoids hacking your way thru the kek-infested forests of 4chan, all you porn-addled Brexiteers gripping white-knuckled onto the loosened steering wheel, all you virtue signallers, lulz addicts, fitness disciples being shouted at in chilly parks, proselytizing vegans, Alpha-course saintly homophobes, compulsive FB signifyers waiting hungrily for the next pile-on, fashionistas, baristas empty vessels and whited sepulchres.. JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH can give you the space you need to just, y'know, get a little distance from yourselves ... come along and let us tear a big blissful open space in your crowded buzzkill of a schedule, and let your poor trapped spirit escape through it and be borne aloft on trembling wings upon the effervescent updraughts rising in giddy spirals around those twin lithic titans of groove Luke “Mezozoic’” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Holocene Invader’ Thomas (drms) as they lay some truly righteous life-affirming sounds upon you all… I’ll be there doing my thing on bass, dandy highwayman Jack Rowan will be in command of his troupe of aetherial beings, ready to minister unto you with libations of the finest liquors known to man, all manner of folk will be passing by, from students making ready to release their brains from the burden of knowledge to haggard Family Guys just trying to do the right thing by their little creatures blinded by the headlights of approaching Xmas, from steely-eyed Momentum apparatchiks to simpering Moggistas, from Mail reading royalists to stern republicans both wrestling with simultaneously feeling overjoyed and appalled by the Markle factor, to wide-eyed ingenues embarking upon their first tentative steps into the world of showbiz via their teenage screamcore combo, to regular working stiffs trying to make their way thru the century as their bodies turn to house-dust… It’s all to play for, come and join us, join us …

Bees Mouth - November 2017

27th November

Giant fireballs have been spotted in the sky, heralding today’s announcement of an upcoming orgy of royal oageantry, with the promise of potential royal scandals and decades of royal conspiracy theories to follow up, while the kids get al excited, the nation steels itself against the inevitable coming tide of work-related seasonal parties followed by seasonal hangovers and a rich cloying stench of mulled wine permeates the crowded streets Let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE'S MOUTH come to your rescue, as you hunker down in your digital foxhole, your poor infiltrated brain unable to distinguish Merkel from Marklle, Bitcoin from bubble, or right from wrong; let the music take control, hang up your hang ups and let it all blow as the musical doctors Luke “Lazarus’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Big Daddy’ Thomas (drms) write you a personal prescription of premium strength jazz-to-swing-to-whatever, aided by me on bass, plus the regular team of ascended beings manifesting themselves behind the well-stocked bar to lay some good liquor on you in exchange for lucre, the spinning head of destiny weaving it’s magic spell and the gallant figure of Jack Rowan at the helm, piloting our ship of good vibes through the sorrowful night laden with the groans of the wicked, the imprecations of the disappointed and the blandishments of the sellers of empty vessels and the inchoate howling of hordes of feral Brexiteers as the reality sinks in and the money drains away…… leave it all behind you, go to Abi’s fundraiser at the Paris House then come over and join us as we set sail for the good side …

20th November

Only 5 more weeks of Amazon Prime delivery dates before Xmas, so don’t just hunker down in your damp overpriced dwelling like some kinda stubborn Bobby ‘Laughing Boy’ Mugabe, while Mr Putin’s busy little bots crawl all over your webspace trying to subvert your carefully wrought FB persona for their devious ends - time to pull on your snood and your Ed Sheeran hoodie, wipe the weekend’s glitter from around your sunken eyes and get down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where we’ll be keeping it lit and saying goodbye to peak times with the mandem Luke ‘Big City’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘The Lozzfather” Thomas (drms) as they spin a magical web of shimmering sonic architecture to dazzle and delight the senses, aided by me on bass, while the bronzed guardians of the well-stocked Bee’s bar wait imperturbably under the command of their leader, dandy highwayman Jack Rowan, and the myriad hordes of interplanetary drifters swing by on their way to the end of the night for a refreshing snifter… let the high and mighty cower as the stinking spectres of their egregious misdeeds come tap tap tapping at their reputational windows, let mournful liberals delete Louis CK from their Youtube favourites, let the masters of Brexit foam at their slack-lipped mouths as they cry ‘mutiny’ and prepare to unleash the dogs of, you know, whatever it is that’s supposed to happen next, we’ll be here doing our thing, so come along and make it your thing too…

13th November

So how are you going to stave off the atavistic fear terror as the Dark Half encroaches, drawing you into it’s chilly embrace? Stay home, play FIFA, indulge in a little light sexting, calculate how rich you’d be if you’d bought Bitcoin, watch Strictly, pretend you actually watched Stranger Things, weep quietly into the curtains, put the John Lewis ad on repeat, panic binge on acai and blue-green algae? You’re cracking up, mate - hurry down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where those fearless cosmic cowboys Luke “Odelay” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Vybz Cartel” Thomas will be waiting to restore your sanity and rejuvenate your mojo with a great big life-affirming statement of good grooves, hot blowing and cool swing, like there’s nothing really wrong at all… I’ll be there on bass, the kindly denizens of the Bees Team will be on hand to dispense healing draughts of quality liquor, the regular cast of otherworldy spectres and fearless explorers of the golden void will be dropping by to hang, the air will be warm and laden with promise… out there the chilly gloom may resound to the dreary discords we’ve wrought, the flatulent eructations of Bojo, the muffled sobs of poor Mrs May who still can’t go yet cos they need her as a human shield, a whole pack of fell beasts, their hour come at last, slouching towards Brexit to be born, the weary groaning of whole IT teams removing all trace of Kevin Spacey from all movies past and future (too late), the uneasy braying and bellowing of alpha males across all sectors wondering if they’ll be next, the distant hooting and gibbering of the Trumpkin from far far away across the sea… come and join us, don’t be afraid, come catch some good feels with us, it’s gonna work out, you’ll see…

6th November

As the upright citizens of Lewes furtively wash the boot polish from behind their ears and scrape the burnt cork out from under their fingernails, as the nation’s doggies start to recover from their PTSD and the kids come down from a week-long festival of dressing up as horror movie characters followed by a jolly evening of burning people in effigy, how will you deal with the downer as evocative autumn slides inevitably into boring old winter? Let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH top up your spiritual vitamin D faster than an Essex tanning studio - just bask in the invigorating rays pouring forth from the interplanetary talents of Luke ‘Sunspot” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Thermonuclear Reaction’ Thomas (drms) as they generate another solar storm of swinging jazz-and-related-musics, aided by me on bass, while the highly evolved denizens of the shadowy spaces behind the well-stocked bar wait, vibrating imperceptibly, to lay some good beverage upon you all …. stop trying to offshore your pitiful earnings to Bermuda in the hope that you’ll enjoy a right Royal tax break, give up trying to work out how to mine Bitcoin in Minecraft, don’t sit at home waiting with bated breath for Mr Trump’s ‘What I Did on My Asian Holiday’ podcast, or trying to see how a multiple shooting can be Not About Guns, or sit on your sagging bean-bag lost in jaded speculation as to who will be next to feel the icy grip of a Sexual Impropriety Scandal around their grey, terrified neck…. grab your axe down off the shelf and come and join us, let’s get into the groove and keep the gathering dark at bay….

Bees Mouth - October 2017

30th October

Farage… Assange… Trump…. Bannon…. take a look at their bulbous eyes, their wierd spongy foldy necks, their weaselly shifty little eyes.. sense their oily presence, their wheezy, shallow breathing, their gross little grunts of excitement as they lurk behind your fb feed, their damp fingers pawing at your browser, dripfeeding their retarded agenda into your poor overstimulated cerebellum… cut that sh*t right out of your life and get down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where you can rinse it all right out of your hair and bathe your bad self in the endless torrent of clear healing musical good vibes gushing forth from the tireless cornucopias of groove known in this lifetime as Luke ‘Lux Aeterna’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Lozquake’ Thomas (drms) as they unleash their flow yet again, aided by me on bass… the undimmed splendour of the Bee’s team, under the direction of dandy guitar-slinger jack Rowan, will be waiting behind the well-stocked bar to pour you libations of the good stuff, the mewling waifs and strays from the end of the night will gather to warm themselves at our constant flame…. as the nation celebrates the feast of Samhain in their own age-appropriate way, with the children preparing for an hectic evening of haribo-fuelled importuning, the nation’s young adults recovering from a premature weekend of sexually charged cosplay, and everyone over 50 reminding each other that it was never such a big deal in their day, come and take a break from it all, recharge your mojo, get on the good foot, liberate your mind, move move move every mountain, come and join us yet again, my friends, yet again, before the year withers upon the vine, but not for ever, not for ever……

23rd October

As the town reels from the twin assaults of uncharismatically monikered Storm Brian and the annual influx of students anxious to turn their massive loans into pure empowering knowledge via the transmutational power of lager, how will you be spending your Monday night? Glued to twitter in the hope of more salacious Hollywood revelations to decry on Facebook, or vice versa? Stuck into some light trolling? Chasing those Snapchat streaks? Get down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH and letting all the trash corrupting your poor bewildered 21st century consciousness wash away, as you bathe your mind in the torrents of healing musical magic pouring forth from the enlightened beings manifesting on this plane as Luke ‘TurboBoost” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘The Terminator’ Thomas (drms), aided by me on bass, as we lay down a wholesome smorgasbord of bop-to-swing-to-latin with plenty of good nutritious groove… forget the oncoming seasonal gloom and the impending Haribo-fullled hedonistic car-crash of Halloween, cos here in the warm scented darkness we’ve got great music, special guests, the oracular spinning head, the highly evolved beings of the Bee’s team waiting, poised effortlessly in the velvet shadows behind the well-stocked bar, all ready to make with the absolving powers of alcohol at your timid request, and the usual cast of hucksters, barkers, shills, roustabouts, dweebs, feebs, fakers, shakers, tipsters, hipsters, and heroes drifting in out of the clammy darkness… as Spain prepares to slowly tear itself into little scrappy pieces under the eager gaze nationalist blowhards everywhere, as the Halloween Trumpkin continues to singlehandedly perfect the new art of Tourette’s diplomacy, as May continues to insist that nothing has changed, nothing has changed, nothing has changed, as strife and idiocy rampage unchecked through the muddy autumnal fields, catching their unshod feet on the slimy stubble of the rotting harvest, it’s time to get to where the good vibes are, let’s light the fires.

16th October

As the sun turns a hellfire puce and darkness engulfs the earth, leaving the cowering populace to decide whether it’s the End Of Days or just a very costly promo for Blade Runner 2049, do your thoughts turn to all those things you meant to do but didn’t get around to? When the Big One goes up, will you rue the witty put-downs you never tweeted, the statuses you didn’t share, the WhatsApp groups you didn’t pointedly leave? Have you actually been to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH yet? cos if not, we’re back once again with the renegade masters Luke ‘Apocalypto’ Rattenbury (gtr) and special guest Dan ‘The Law’ Breslaw (drms) as they defy the coming storm to weave their intoxicating webs of musical enchantment, aided by me on bass, and the aetherial beings who manifest on this temporal plane as the Bee’s Team wait, poised and ready behind the well-stocked bar, to dispense libations of the finest liquors known to man…. if you’ve finally realised that most of your online friends are bots, if you’ve just been sent an invite to a Miramax slumber party, if you swapped all your bitcoin for pound coins, if you’re wondering just exactly what terrible thing is going to happen next, time to give yourself a break, fight off your addiction to online outrage, tear your weary gaze from the glowing screen that does nothing but reflect your deepest fears and worst impulses back into your terrified eyeballs, and come and join us here in meatspace where there’s music, life and laughter and positive vibrations from actual life-forms in real-time 4-dimensional space .. try it, you’ll love it.

9th October

Your life needs shaking up a bit, doesn’t it? Why not host your own referendum? Those things are the best way to guarantee an almighty tear-up that’ll keep everyone you know at each other’s throats for years to come.. or you could try starting a groovy Tory party youth movement.. or invite Harvey Weinstein round to meet your mum .. or come along to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH and get things turned around back to the light side along with your ever-rocking team of Luke “Lightspeed Champion” Rattenbury and special guest Dan ‘The Law’ Breslaw on drums as they build magical castles of hot sweet groove into the air, aided by me on bass, as the young heroes of the Bee’s team under the command of dandy highwayman Jack Rowan wait, poised in the scented dusk behind the well-stocked bar, as the darkling streets echo with the whoops and yells of the newly arrived student population as they extinguish their thirst for knowledge with deep draughts from the well of lager-fuelled self-importance, as each window frames a shadowy figure hunched over a glowing screen, as the shadowy creatures of the night shamble forth upon their mysterious errands, as attack ships catch fire off the shoulder of Orion and C-beams glitter in the dark neat the Tannhauser gate… grab that sackful of pound coins you were saving for your retirement fund, get yer axe down from off the shelf and come and join us, join us.

2nd October

As Spain proudly re-engages with its rich tradition of brutal state suppression, as the Tories prepare to demonstrate their well honed skills at screwing everyone over upon themselves, as yet more evidence emerges of the freedom-enhancing efficacy of US gun laws, as a tidal wave of howling idiocy threatens to carry the world on a careening terror ride, like an unlicensed Uber driver high on his own price surge, JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEES MOUTH will be operating according to our usual beliefs of tolerance, equality, diversity and pure hot swinging grooves delivered by those maestros of good vibrations Luke ‘Killer Joe’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Lozquake’ Thomas (drms), aided by me on bass, while the cherubim and seraphim of the Bee’s Team wait, poised, their gilded wings folded behind their sculpted backs, their radiant eyes shining just inside the spectrum of visible light, their incarnate beings vibrating at a higher frequency as they prepare you a libation from their selection of the finest liquors known to man.. the atmosphere will be alive with purest osmium as the last colours of the summer drain imperceptibly from the smoke-scented air, the creatures of the air prepare for the long journey southward again, Fortuna’s wheel takes another turn and the earth shifts upon it’s axis … in the dreary reaches of the compromised corridors of power Boris may be preparing some fresh concoction of sinister buffoonery, Davis may be drunk and asleep, Hammond may be demonstrating his utter panic by threatening to sack everyone before they sack him as May huddles, weeping, in the stationary cupboard, while all the time the Corbynistas’ chanting echoes through the walls like the neighbours in ‘Rosemary’s Baby’ and the Brexit train rumbles ever closer on it’s rusty crooked wheels, but we’ll keep on swinging til we can swing no more, so grab yer axe off the shelf and come and join us … out here in the perimeter there are no stars, out here we are stoned, immaculate.

Bees Mouth - September 2017

25th September

Stuck in the lift with Tom Watson, thrashed at ping pong by Jezza, heartbroken for Thornberry’s cats, biting the tongue on Brexit til it bleeds - it’s no joke for the delegates as they swarm the seafront, all suited up, trying to blend in with the local piercings n’ tats Corbynistas or dad-dancing on the level with the regular human flotsam .. good job that JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is ready and waiting to welcome the lost, the weary, the hopeful and the unfulfilled with a massive enveloping blast of musical healing thanks to those tireless activists for the good groove Luke ‘Red Wedge’ Rattenbury (gtr) and special guest Dan ‘Swiss’ Breslaw (drms) as they set about creating a paradigm of constructive unity and positive vibrations… the non-partisan Bee’s Team will be there to welcome you under the command of the ever-dapper dandy highwayman Jack Rowan, the spinning head will be turning faster than a disconsolate Blairite can change their tune, the vibe will be immense, so don’t sit out in the rain getting all mean and grouchy, like a passle of big-city slickers suddenly deprived of their innovative ride-hailing system, don’t waste another second chasing those snapchat streaks, don’t worry about Nibiru and it’s possible effects on the secondary school catchment areas, don’t get your gender-neutral knickers in a twist about TfL, ensure the survival of the gig economy by ripping off your VR headset, switching off your fitbit and coming to an actual gig…

18th September

Is life pulling the ol switcheroo on you? Creeping up on you like BoJo the backstabber, then retreating in sweaty red-faced farrago of blustering flapdoodle and irrelevant Latin aphorisms? Let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE'S MOUTH be an oasis of reals in a desert of bogus buffoonery, thronged as it is with the dreary mob of signifying loudmouths , from irretrievably entitled oldies to tiresomely woke millennials, all intent on ramming their tendentious opinions down your slack jawed gaping maw ... We'll have none of that here, just cool, enriching draughts of musical goodness drawn from deep in the well by the untiring hand of Luke 'TimeLord' RAttenbury (gtr) and the epoch making Double Thomas rhythm team of Loz 'Timebomb' Thomas (drms) and special guest Ascended Master Nigel Thomas (bs) ... The ethereal beings of the Bees Team will be on hand, dandy highwayman Jack Rowan will sit in on guitar* , the nameless creatures of the night will lope, shamble and scurry past outside the steamy windows, the returning students will celebrate the latest round of fudging and hedging over their newly acquired debt by trying to drink the lot in one go - it'll be a carnivalesque feast for the senses, so don't be a lollygagging non-gender specific Johnny come lately, don't be afraid to catch feels, get yourself down and have yourself a time...

11th september

TUC conference time is when Brighton comes alive! The streets are ablaze with the forces of beardy socialistic rectitude, the bars, the cabarets, the very pavements hum with the thrill of collective bargaining and evasive discussions of all things Brexitty, they’ve even laid on an authentic 1970s style bomb scare to make the older delegates feel relevant.. JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH will be rising to the occasion as ever, ready to slake the delegate’s thirst for righteousness by offering up deep healing draughts from the well of good grooves and hot solos, with our regular team of Luke “Aquarius” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Eye Of The Tiger” Thomas (drms) setting their shoulders to the wheel and creating a tiny musical extreme weather event of their own, aided by me on bass, plus dandy highwayman Jack Rowan and his team of sylphs and naiads waiting poised effortlessly in the scented darkness behind the well-stocked bar, ready to welcome the giddy, bedazzled crowd with libations of the finest liquors known to man, as they throng about the doorway, their faces flushed with deep emotions, the name ‘Frances O’Grady’ ever at their eager lips, their hair all mussed and their Union badges awry, their eyes ablaze with urgent passions stirred by the fiery eloquence of their smiling masters, mixing it up with the regular crew of hucksters, fakers, dweebs, gamblers, panhandlers and disconsolate conspiracy theorists…. maybe you’re mourning the season’s slow passing, maybe you’re all upset about Irma, maybe you just remembered something and you wish you hadn’t, maybe you’re mad as hell and you’re just not going to take this anymore, it’s ok, come down and join us, join us, try to set the night on fire.

4th September 

The spectre of nuclear annihilation totally bumming you out? Autumns sere breath suddenly harsh against your sunburned cheek? Even Taylor's, like , MEGA comeback failing to fill the cultural void? Let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE'S MOUTH commence your countdown to ecstasy - even if you can't buy a thrill, the sheer torrential force of musical good vibes flowing forth from showbiz kids Luke 'Deacon Blues' Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz 'Dr Wu' Thomas (drms) will have you feeling like you're Kid Charlemagne, at least until Black Friday comes - I'll be assisting on bass from deep within the caves of Altamira, the fabulous Bee's team will be plying their glamour profession from behind the well-stocked bar, so put on your green earrings and your bad sneakers, polish your gold teeth, throw back the little ones, and come and sign in, stranger, as we whip up some chain lightning - join Peg, Josie, the rest of the Babylon sisters, the bhoddisatvas, the Haitian divorcees, the razor boys, the Charlie freaks and the fez wearers, gauchos and third world men, kids from your old school and kings of the world, as we all go back, jack, and do it again ... Media vita in morte sumus, so don't hang around, drop it like it's hot, join us, join us.

Bees Mouth - August

28th August

Suns out - guns out - You'd like to be chillaxing on the beach. But it's just sooooo time consuming, singlehandedly challenging structural injustice when you're fully woke... Quit your humblebragging, lay off the virtue signalling, get off your high horse and get down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE'S MOUTH cos everyone needs a little time to get over themselves, be they Vegan Antifa or swivel-eyed ReesMoggistas... As the last chiming echoes of summer resound from the lambent vault, as the sunlight sparkles and saints cast down their shining crowns upon the glassy sea, as even the barbecue scent of scorched meat and paraffin seems tinged with nostalgia for the seasons passing, as Jezza and Kier go hard, then soft, then hard, then soft again, as David Davis and his cabal of rubicund nincompoops grunt and burp their tattoo of truculent mediocrity across the channel, we'll have Luke 'Heliocentric' Rattenbury (gtr) plus special guest Dan 'The Law' Breslaw (drms) pouring out a joyous torrent of hot swinging music, plus me on bass, the silken naiads of the Bee's team ready with the quality liqours, and whatever shattered human flotsam remains after pursuing the phantom of pleasure through the guilty maze of dissipation in the customary bank holiday orgy... Not long now, not long, so grab your axe down off the shelf and come join us, whoever you are, join us.

21st August

Sure, you’re all fully woke neophiliacs, plugged in and networked to the max, liking and sharing yourself to a brighter future, crowdsharing your way into the eternal sunshine of the spotless mind…. but wait up! What if it’s all been a terrible mistake and all your digital hoo-ha is just a cover for the fact that we’re all trapped in an endless cycle of stupidity while our twitchy monkey brains are dazzled by the dancing pixels? Let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH provide you with an anchor in these troubled times, cos the online is poisonous with gaseous emanations from vloggers, bloggers, jihadists, alt-right, alt-left and control-alt-delete muttonheads, from repeated outbreaks of intemperate statue smashing and tiki-torch waving, from government by itchy Twitter-finger, from international nuclear dick swinging exercises, from arid Brexit prognoses that even the protagonists are losing interest in, from ill-informed debates on every contemporary hot potato from multicoloured privilege to transwhateverism as everyone stakes a claim to be smarting under the oppression of everyone else …. we’ve got Luke ‘The Eternal Triangle” Rattenbury (gtr) fresh from the muddy fields of festival-land, we’ve got special guest, the highly evolved Alpine sticksman extraordinare Alex Eberhardt on the traps, I’ll be providing bass as best I can, the transplendent beings of the Bee’s team under the benevolent leadership of dandy highwayman Jack Rowan will be waiting to lay some quality liquors out to ease your minds, the music will be hot and sweet and swinging like the clappers… everything is guaranteed to be 100% real in the here and now cos we don’t let our minds write a cheque that our physical emanations can’t cash… let dogs delight to bark and bite, let Mr Bannon slink away to nurse his wierd blotchy face in private, let the US be plunged into apocalyptic darkness, let Sir Bruce soft-shoe his way up the great conveyor belt to eternity, what you need is a dose of the real live vibrations of human connectivity and we’ve got a ton of it to give away for free, so tear yourselves away from your tethered devices and come and join us, join us…

14th August

Did they promise you could all be winners, all the time? Well, you can’t, not even if you’re Sir Moseph Farah or U. ‘Crazy Legs’ Bolt - sh*t just isn’t set up that way - but you can still get yourself down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH and get yourself another slice of hot swinging jazz-to-bop-to-latin-to-whatever served up hot and spicy and just the way you like it by the undimming efforts of Luke “Fire” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Fury” Thomas (drms) to spread some peace love and understanding by just doing their thing and keeping the channels of creativity open, aided by me on bass as best I can… as the Orange Ogre shows himself to be every bit as repulsively homicidally catastrophically moronically Nazi-enablingly destructive as we all knew he would, don’t be dismayed - as Brexit unfolds like the most boring slo-mo disaster movie ever shot, with each utterly predictable crisis arriving in agonisingly slow lo-res, don’t be downhearted - don’t just sit glued to your screen watching the pixels slowly congeal into yet another cluster of idiocy, like a porn download via dial-up, don’t even think about the fresh round of prevarication hesitation and deviation that awaits us when both Tory and Labour return from their ideologically opposed holidays and plunge right back into the inevitable clammy whirlpool of infighting, don't keep on staring at that circles thing in the hope that they will finally appear….. do you wake with a start at night, gasping for breath as you surface from a dreary nightmare of annihilation? Does the sunshine fail to warm the chill in your heart, do the voices of the kids in the park seem to echo like a foretaste of perdition, do the shrill, tiny cries of the swifts high overhead in the scented dusk seem like the farewell admonitions of departing seraphim as they prepare to leave you, never to return? You need to lighten up, jack, re-connect with the source, there’s still a cornucopia of good vibes around, the game is still afoot, come and join us and we'll share them out amongst ourselves once again, once again. 

7th August

Lost a bit of bounce? Everything feeling a bit Usain Bolt? Even the prospect of a fiery online Brexit debate not getting a rise any more? Is the post-Pride comedown taking the gilt off your facial glitter? JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE'S MOUTH has the remedy for your malady, so stick your pink hotpants into the wash and set to thermonuclear, pack your assless chaps back into the closet for another year, and set your controls for where Luke 'Tolerance' Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz 'Diversity' Thomas (drms) will be beating back the shitty weather and creating a microclimate of radiant n sultry swing-to-bop-to-groove-to-whatever, aided by me on bass, while the effervescent Bee's team assiduously spread good vibes and quality liquors to get the tarnish off your varnish .... Hush your negging, quit dogging around, grab yer axe down off the shelf and come and join us it's still all to play for, the fakers gonna fake and the haters gonna hate but we're just gonna shake shake shake it out..

Bees Mouth - July 2017

24th July

Whether you’re a harassed paterfamilias contemplating taking the fam plus your valueless stock of sterling on annual Euro-hols, or a super-woke millennial preparing a fresh assault on identity politics and grammatical usage, or an ageing hipster seeking to refresh your youth at Boomtown’s endless wellspring of chemically stimulated whimsy, or just a regular schmoe wondering bleakly what unpredictable event will happen next, you’ll need a break .. JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is back once again, coming to the rescue with it’s one-stop-shop of spiritual moral and mental refreshment thanks to the indefatigable musical endeavours of international man of mystery and endless generator of good vibrations Luke ‘String Theory’ Rattenbury (gtr) and special guest on the inspired polyrhythms Milo ‘Doctor’ Fell (drms), plus me on bass, as the ethereal beings of the Bee’s team wait, lustrous eyes shining as they hover vibrating imperceptibly amidst the scented shadows behind the well-stocked bar ready to offer healing libations to the jaded and succour to the disappointed, as the sturdy vendors of Middle Eastern cuisine ply their trade on either side, as the spectral shambling creatures of the night shuffle past in the echoing streets, loud with the trundling wheely-cases of a thousand departing hen-nights and the demented screaming of the gulls and other familiar locals, as Fortuna’s wheel keeps turning bearing us all along on it’s inexorable rotation … who’s going up, who’s going down? Don’t just sit there passively, waiting for Stranger Things while having your data harvested, it’s just too dystopian, baby, so pack it all in, give yerself a break, come on down and join us, join us, time to set the night on fire. 

10th July

There you are, tied to your device, trying to think of some nice policies for poor Mrs May, keeping up with Jaden Smith’s endless friend requests (so needy!), wading through the endless effluent tide of fake news items while re-editing your LinkedIn profile for the 10,000th time and keeping up with the weekend’s crop of buff Insta beach shots … exhausting, innit, when all you wanna do is get OUTSIDE in the summer heat.… fortunately JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is on hand ready and waiting to top up your spiritual tan with the healing rays pouring forth like endless torrents of cosmic radiation from an enormous metaphorical sun whose physical manifestation on this plane has taken the twin form of Luke ‘Helios” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘The Mighty Ra” Thomas (drms), aided in some mysterious way by me on bass, while the ministering seraphim of the Bee’s team wait, poised impeccably in the mysterious scented dusk behind the well-stocked bar under the command of their dashing leader, the dandy highwayman Jack Rowan, and the many-hued, pied and dappled, lithe or ragged denizens of the hushed, darkling streets come blundering in like dazzled moths drawn to the pure unwavering musical flame … let the orange Trumpkin spew forth his empty tirades of ill-informed senile rage, like a really boring Lear at the centre of an airless media storm, let Labour hover nervously on the brink of an disastrous orgy of recriminatory deselection, let Murdoch croak and rattle his leathery wings from his mountain eyrie, let Facebook dogs delight to bark and bite as the nation’s gilded youth fritter away their lives watching Love Island on their phones in a thousand smelly bus shelters, stuff the lot of them, grab your axe down off the shelf and come and join us, good times, good times.

3rd July

As Love Supreme fades slowly out, leaving only sunburn, the glowing memory of gurning drummers smashing out wonky beats, every possible permutation of the altered scale hanging in the summer air, and the soft susurrus of a thousand jazz musicians bitching about the sound mix for Herbie Hancock, it’s time to re-engage with the mundanity of the quotidian, the humdrum of the banal, the inevitability of tuesday.. or there’s JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where you can re-engage with those jazzy summery thrills or, if you went to see the Biebertron in Hyde Park instead cos thats more your thing, marvel at the chiselled profiles of Luke ‘Sorry’ Rattenbury (gtr) and special guest Angus ‘What Do You Mean?’ Bishop (drms) as they cook up another nutritious gumbo of fat beats, cool swing, and fleet fingered licks aplenty for your delectation, aided by me on bass, and of course the multi-dimensional beings of the Bee’s team under the command of dandy highwayman Jack Rowan standing by to make with the good liquor.. don't sit around marvelling at the intractability of Tory intransigence til Hell or public sector pay freeze over for good…. don’t get down, don't worry about getting even, get up, get on up get on the scene.…. neither time nor tide are going to hang around so grab your axe off the shelf and come and join us… 

Bees Mouth - June 2017

26th June

Maybe you hoped for rain at Glasto to dampen your pals’ humblebragging FB posts… maybe you expected a billion pound birthday present from the magic money tree and meany May gave it to the DUP instead - no fair! - maybe you somehow convinced yourself that summer was 100% here when really it was just a thumbnail preview and the real thing may be lost in the Cosmic Ordering post room… don’t get down in the mouth, get up and get on down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where we’ve still got an unshakeably strong mandate to deliver a far-reaching program of blues-to-bop-to-latin-to-swing-to-whatever thanks to the endless creativity and tireless enthusiasm of Luke ‘Luke’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘Loz’ Thomas (drms), gamely assisted by me on bass, while multi-dimensional entities that manifest themselves on this plane as the Bee’s team wait, vibrating soundlessly, amidst the scented dusk behind the well-stocked bar, ready to pour you libations that will refresh and invigorate your jaded senses quicker than a government housing officer can pass the buck…. far away across the multiverse Mr Corbyn prepares for a follow-up greatest-hits tour of Carling Academies, Ms May runs panting in ever-decreasing circles through an endless wheatfield pursued by the vengeful ghost of the Reverend Ian Paisley, Craig David finally discovers some well-deserved down time in his packed weekly schedule, Ed Sheeran returns home to change his sheets and tune his guitar, clandestine Russian hackers accidentally break into LinkedIn and drown under an endless torrent of unsolicited emails, The Trump does something so dismally predictably awful that you can't even be bothered to find out what it is, dogs delight to bark and bite, Fortuna's wheel keeps on turning and we keep on keeping on…. don’t be shy, come and join us, now's the time. 

19th June

The sun’s out! Not a moment to lose - abandon whatever attempts you were making to convert the latest horrific tragedy into internet commentary gold, pull a sickie if you’re one of the dwindling band of worker bees still gifted with old-school contractual protections, or just abscond from whatever exploitative gig-economy bullcrap disguised as self employment you’re engaged in, and get yourselves down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH … We’ll be expecting you fresh from the beach, your pink-and-white flesh still bearing the imprint of the greasy pebbles, your hair fragrant with the evocative scent of disposable barbecues, your eyes dazzled with the shimmering rays as they bounce off a million pairs of knock-off Raybans before being absorbed into the inky blackness of a million sweet tribal tattoos, waiting to dazzle and delight your sun-scorched senses with the killer sounds of Luke ‘Scorchio” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz “Hotter Than The Sun” Thomas (drms) plus me supplying low end as per, while the Bee’s team led by dandy highwayman Jack Rowan wait, vibrating gently in the scented dusk behind the well-stocked bar, ready to slake your thirst with a selection of exotic liquors, the languid zephyrs of midsummer play about your fevered temples and the last showing of the light in the western sky glows like the unearthly radiance shining from your own personal doorway to The Law… as everything seems more and more improbable, as the prolonged period of uncertainty keeps on delivering like a horrible Amazon Prime of despair, give your poor bewildered self a break and come and join us, now’s the time, there is no other.

June 12th

A total upheaval, as candidates bared all, let their particulars be examined by the nation, and braved the hostile climate, making a clean breast and astonishing spectators with their unexpected surges - yet again the Naked Bike Ride has shown us a triumph of optimism over the forces of gravity and confounded the naysayers - if you’re safely fully clothed* and need a break from wondering just what the heck is going to happen next, JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH is here once again, defying the way the mainstream media has totally ignored our successes, with the return of the dream coalition team of Luke ‘The Surge” Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘The Urge’ Thomas (drms), plus me making up the numbers on bass, and the ethereal ascended beings of the Bee’s Team under the leadership of dandy highwayman Jack Rowan ready to offer soothing libations to help you all just chill the flip down, you know… as the prolonged period of uncertainty stretches ever further into the cloud-dappled future, as poor Ms May and her new chums sweatily attempt to cobble together a convincing vision of a strong, stable realm riven with sectarianism but forever free of homosexual dinosaurs, as the nation’s responsible parents remind the newly enfranchised youth that it’s not the winning, it’s the taking part that matters, as Mr Corbyn stands before his modest bathroom mirror and practices adjusting his tie with a smile of quiet command, as an appalled nation tries to reconcile feelings of victory with the sudden return of Mr Gove to our ever more neglected TV screens and front pages, it’s time to put down your tethered devices, abandon your tribal prejudices, hang up your hang ups and come and get down with some righteous hard swinging jazz n’ bop n’ blues n’ groove … see, it’s all ok, come join us, join us…..  

*Bee’s Mouth is not licensed for full public nudity.

June 5th

Confused? Fearful? Maybe changing your profile pic to a national flag, or writing solemn, pontificating posts about how it's All Our Fault or People Are Dying Abroad Too, longer seem like adequate responses? Maybe the tension is too much? Let JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE'S MOUTH pour soothing balm upon your poor jangled nerves, as we keep calm and Carry On Swinging, as though infused with the twin spirits of Kenny Burrell and Kenneth Williams, thanks to the impassioned, ineffably hip stylinga of Luke 'Lightsabre' Rattenbury (gtr) and the cataclysmic grooving precision of special guest Tristan 'T Bone' Banks (drms) plus me on the ol' Dog-house, while dandy highwayman Jack Rowan and the ethereal, ever-obliging Bee's team stand by, on hand to offer soothing libations... Tear your horrified gaze away from Mrs May as she flaps and squawks like a dusty vulture on her way to running the worst election campaign ever created by a sinister Australian, stop wondering anxiously if Mr Corbyn can keep remembering how to do his tie up properly, keep your head steady and your powder dry against whatever trials may loom ahead through the gloomy mists of the prolonged period of uncertainty, and for now respond to It all by grabbing yer axe down off the shelf and coming to join us, let's celebrate. 

Bees Mouth - May 2017

May 15th

OMG! Still 24 more sleeps to go til everyone finally gets to vote, then collapse in a fevered heap, their busy little brains worn out with the effort of sustaining their opinions, their Facebook pages laden down with big squishy heaps of suppurating ill-tempered sniping masquerading as political engagement, their ears ringing with the words ‘strong and stable’ or ‘policies and principles’ echoing in shrill doomy voices… give yerself a break, get down to JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH where we have a warm welcome awaiting you no matter what your convictions, as long as they’re not criminal, thanks to the superhuman all-party skills of Luke ‘Mr Dynamite’ Rattenbury’ (gtr) and Loz ‘The Big Noise from The Big Smoke’ Thomas (drms) plus me on the ol’ dog house, the ever-radiant Bee’s team, and the usual cast of characters swept in out of the night’s turbulent mystery to give their personalities some exercise as we lay down a magic carpet of swing-to-funk-to-bop to take you away from all the bad vibes and into a world of entrancing possibilities … like you’re a footballer on an open-top bus parading through the town, in that magic moment after the promotion but before all the scandals start, with the wind in your funkily coiffeured hair, the sun on your artfully stubbled face, cheers of adoration ringing in your shell-like ears…. leave your ransom-ware riddled devices behind, stop shouting at the pollsters or trying to undermine the integrity of the poor old BBC, wipe your mind forever clean of the image of politicians eating fast food in an effort to appear normal, leave off feeling guiltily, bizarrely nostalgic for Phil 'Prince' Mountbatten's unique contributions to public life, come and join us, let the music take you higher, higher, higher.

May 8th

Are you surrounded by a swarm of overheated online election hoo-ha, ubiquitous and unavoidable as the massed ranks of ukelele players, slam poets and fire jugglers now advancing upon us under cover of the Fringe Festival? Haunted by the image of Ms Le Pen doing her weird Nazi-disco dance, rolling her eyes at you and sticking her tongue out between her fingers like a terrifying lunatic at a provincial midweek 90s revival night who won’t take no for an answer? JAZZ NIGHT AT THE BEE’S MOUTH will be your sanctuary, your refuge and your psychic regenerator, as we’ve got the old skool original G team of Luke ‘Mr Magic’ Rattenbury (gtr) and Loz ‘A Huge Ever Growing Pulsating Brain That Rule From The Centre Of The Ultraworld’ Thomas (drms) plus me on bass, laying down some old standards, blues, bebop and grooves while the radiant celestial beings known in this earthly dimension as the Bee’s Team wait in the scented shadows behind the well-stocked bar, ready to hand over refreshing libations of the finest liquors known to man… don’t spend the evening cowering in front of your FB feed, flinching before the shrill chatter of ‘strong and stable’ assaulting your consciousness like a flock of angry nanobot cockatoos, or watching Mr Corbyn looking cross and puzzled, or realising that you’ve forgotten all about what Trump and his busy little orange hands may have been up to in the meantime..Spring is in the air, the voice of the cuckoo is heard once again across the land, let the storm of intransigent political emnity rage away in it’s own little online teacup for the rest of the evening and get on the good foot , grab your axe down off the shelf and celebrate good times, come on…