The Jazz Butcher
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Date: Saturday, May 15th 1993 737424000 (31 years 37 days ago)
Venue: The Mean Fiddler
Location: 24 High Street Harlesden, London England NW10
Admission: £5:00
⭐ With
Pat Fish Solo ( guitar, vocals )
Quality: 7 (out of 10), Performance: B, Interest: B (out of 10), Master Copy, DAT

Bootlegger: Matt Cockerill
[poster for XX]



Small, enthusiastic crowd, nervous performer, intimate show.

About Matt Cockerill's recording: tech - mono, lapel microphone.
Credit: pat

📝 Pat Says


Susie (Susie, you fool, it was Susie! Did I make THAT much of a mess of it?)
Sweetwater (Yes, from the new l.p.)
Rosemary Davis' World Of Sound (Yes again)
September Gurls (Alex Chilton)
Waiting For The Love Bus (A one-off. It went through the mincer and now it's a The Blue Aeroplanes album track or something.)
Whaddya? (New l.p again. Only a BIT morose)
Sister Death (Yeeeaaaaah)
Mr. Odd
Ben (New lp stuff. A ballad about being eaten by lions; "It's a family affair")
Ghosts (Yes, new lp again. They really went for this one, you know. It was scary.)
She's On Drugs (Now they're rockin')
Angels (Ha ha ha ha ha! You Fools! HA HA HA!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!)
Goodnight Irene (By Leadbelly, as covered by The Great Mo Tucker. Cf. Paris 15.2.93)

They were making a terrible fuss and I knew they all really wanted me to grin and sing about getting pissed and that, and been SO patient, so I did

Soul Happy Hour

Then I fucked off but they kept on making an impressive old din, so eventually, not to seem cocky or anything, I went and got up there again. Some bloke shouts out for Chickentown and I think "Uh-oh" so I ask him if he means that load of old bollocks about chickens in the bathroom, chickens on a stick sorta thing and he goes "NAAAH, you PILLOCK! Chickentown , the song." and I go "Wot? That miserable fucker?" and he goes "Yeh." and so I think "Fuckin' right John" and I play the fucker. Rather well, i thought. I hit the A-minor at the end, and I thought "This is great, this, I want to do another rockin' number, one that starts on A-minor, and I want to do the fucker RIGHT NOW, but the only tune I could think of in that nanosecond was Walk With The Devil , so I thought "You can't play that, you haven't played that fucker in four years, you won't remember it and you'll fuck up the words and it'll be slow and crap and you'll end up stabbing the whole lovely evening in the back of the legs", but, of course, it was too late by then to anything but start, so I said to myself Fuck It and I gave it some, and I don't think I played any wrong chords or notes, and I resisted the temptation to whistle in the middle-8 (which sounds like a good idea, but isn't because the mic always make your whistling sound like that) and I made it to the end and they clapped, phew!

What made me do that?

Yeh, so

Walk With The Devil
Source: Pat Letter: 1993-08-30 1993-08-30 (Monday, 30th of August 1993 - 30 years 295 days ago)
Credit: ;;

♥ Reviews

It was just him! besides, there wouldn’t have been room for anybody else.

Pat was wandering around the bar during the support acts, muttering "Christ, I’m nervous. I haven’t done this in years."

The audience were mostly seated (as was he) around him, looking agog, like he was some guru.

Credit: Matt Cockerill

🎼 Played

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