Warrior Poets and Drunken Heroes

Went "out out" last night. To a club with lots of people and alcohol and everything...
Very rare these days. And that was one of the reasons we decided to go, as these opportunities will be even rarer soon (as everyone keeps delighting in reminding me!)

One of my favourite singers (John Bramwell of I Am Kloot) was playing a gig at the local Irish Club (think Peter Kay's Phoenix Nights and you're not far wrong!) alongside the self-titled Mancunian Warrior Poet, Mike Garry - both local boys done good.

And both were brilliant.

Mike was a real find. He only writes poems about Manchester life and people - his poems 'God is a Manc' and 'St Anthony, St Anthony' (written to mark Anthony H. Wilson's death - a personal hero of mine) were particular highlights as was an amusing one about the old Bernard Manning club on Rochdale Road.

Unfortunately by the time John came on to do his acoustic set, it was very late and he'd had a skinful. Although still incredible (he gave us a first airing of a beautiful track he'd just written for his daughter), some of his guitar playing was a little...errrr...affected by the vast quantities of Guinness he'd drunk to say the least!

Got to bed after 1am and slept like a baby, which seems a deliciously ironic phrase if what my NCT buddies are telling me is anything to go by!