We have finally made it to the one gig of my life for which I have the least to say.

In 2012 I was gamely carrying on with my PhD despite the fluctuating mental health issues that had arisen the year before. As far as music was concerned, I have probably never cared about it less than I did in this year. In fact, I was quite a few months into writing this blog before I even remembered that I had been to a gig in 2012 at all, and only did so because I’d been perusing my past orders in my See Tickets account. This led to a swift re-numbering of some of my more recent gigs, with my triumphant declaration of Rae Morris as my 150th gig being the biggest casualty.

Gallon Drunk are not a band who’ve ever particularly caught my eye or ear. This gig was suggested by Glam Best Friend as the backdrop for a long overdue catch up. We’d previously been to many fantastic gigs together like Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds and the Prodigy, but had drifted apart somewhat since our last gig together. So it made absolute sense to reunite once more in the presence of live music.

Given, however, that the main purpose of this evening was to catch up with an old friend, I was if anything even more brief than usual in my summation of this gig in my diary:

‘The gig was in a converted pub the Macbeth and very bluesy and rocky etc. We got totally soaked on the way to the station.’

But there’s one more twist to the tale! Here in 2021 I have in fact just returned from an even more overdue reunion with my Glam Best Friend. And of course I quizzed her about her memories of this evening. She provided the following insight:

‘There was this big pole blocking our view’.

And that’s it. I’m happy to say that there will be no more gig posts for which I’ll be so totally indifferent to the band in question, or have such minimal memory of it. 2012 marked the absolute nadir of my interest in music, but from here on in – as a great philosopher once said – the only way is up.