Babes, Gourds and a whole lot of Old Rosie…

I begin this with a scene everyone loves. Warm sandy beaches during the day, crammed with the finest birds, followed by a quick feast back at the camp-site and then an expedition to the pub about a mile away. Lovely, especially when this particular pub happens to be one of, if not the best, cider pub in the South West. The only slight drawback to this is that you often find the walk back somewhat less horizontal. In the low ceilinged, dim room at the back of a pub which draws its cider from the barrel via a small plastic tap, I found one of the best bands I have seen for a while, Totally Gourdgeous.

Described as “Joni Mitchell, meets James Brown, in Bob Marley’s pumpkin patch, via the Muppets!”, Totally Gourdgeous, as the name suggests, play instruments crafted from gourds. All custom made by one of the band members. So without further a do, I present to you, at a significantly more vertical angle than the original viewing, Totally Gourdgeous performing ‘Doesn’t Matter Anymore’:

The room was bouncing, and my stomach was slowly dissolving in a sea of home-pressed cider. Life couldn’t get much better, but then I stupidly asked a somewhat attractive barmaid what drink would stop my stomach from aching, and she prescribed cider brandy. Add to this mix a variety of bodies (all alive), some young, some old, some pissed, some stoned, you know the story. And a rather pretty lass from York, but that’s a different matter all together…

Johan is a close friend of ours who has signed two punk records deals in his time. He currently climbs, wears a flat cap and drinks ale. Not a bad life at all!

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