Jon and Libby

Lying in a big hotel bed in Derby at 7:45am on Friday 16th February 2024, if someone had told me a year ago that last night I'd have been playing live electronic music, my electronic music, very loudly to a roomful of people who clapped and cheered at the end, I'd have told them they were crazy. That I'd even have anything I'd be less than terrified to let people hear seems crazy. And yet, here we are: Libby and all the gear is packed neatly in the rucksack ready to go, I'm promising myself I'll only have one sausage at the Premier Inn breakfast I'm about to devour downstairs. EMOM Gig #3 is done and dusted.  Derby is a lovely place if you like being stuck in traffic. I last drove here two decades ago, and even then it was frustrating. The Romans had no such issues. Since establishing the garrison town of Derventio, it has enjoyed a long and storied history, and has some fine architecture to show for it. The cathedral, lit at night, is a magnificent testamen

They say the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, and I really need to get my daily count up. Insulating myself against the good advice of staying home, I instead braved the storm that was battering the UK, and strode out once more up the hill to the train station, bound for God's own city and BLEEP #14. On the way, I pondered: is it really a whole month since we played BLEEP #13? It feels like a fortnight at most, and yet the calendar claims otherwise. To misquote Douglas Adams: time is an illusion, January doubly so. My usual chums had other plans this month, so I made my way to The Peer Hat alone. Not that Bleep ever means alone. Since I first set foot through the door last April, I've never felt like I was on my own down there. The atmosphere, fuelled by familiar faces, is always warm, welcoming and up for pretty much anything.  A pint of Squawk in hand (£4, dry, hoppy, and a hell of a hangover if you drink one too many), I descended the stairs. The Manc