As usual, I was first to arrive. So I sat in my car for half an hour looking out at this:
It was absolutely pissing it down. The only people to be seen were hiding under gazebos or scurrying away under umbrellas. This did not bode well for a great gig.
Local musicians the Cock and Bull band took to the stage first. They played a gutsy set of folky songs, and managed to get a few people bobbing up and down under the trees:
The rest of Sunday Driver turned up. There was nothing to do but shelter under the backs of our cars and hope it might clear up. It didn’t:
We got set up on the (thankfully covered) stage:
The crowd gathers in damp anticipation (I think some of them were hiding in the beer tent):
The most important thing on stage was a yellow bucket, catching the torrent of rainwater pouring off the tarpaulin before it soaked the electrics and killed us all:
In the end, we played a great set and the crowd were enthusiastically appreciative, although at one point I wasn’t sure if they were waving or drowning. Chandy and I kept breaking off in hysterical laughter at the antics of the teenagers at the front of the stage – at one point someone even tried to crowd-surf, which was an impressive feat in a moshpit of ten people.
Huge thanks to everyone who braved the rain to come and see us, and to the organisers for booking us. Shame about the weather, but I think everyone had a good time anyway.