This January, our Ben is giving up the comforts of home and hitting the road for a solo tour of the country. He’ll be driving all over the UK in his car, which is called Yoko – a dented old Nissan Almera painted like a gypsy caravan (courtesy of the talented art students of Stroud College).
As part of the Herons! Gipsy Tour, Ben will be playing a plethora of venues and pubs across the UK, as well as front room gigs: small concerts in people’s homes.* The aim is to make friends, share Herons!’ music with a new audience, and earn enough to get Ben to the next place. It’s a tour that relies on the kindness of strangers. The tour kicks off on Boxing Day at our favourite watering hole, the Prince Albert in Stroud.
In the meantime, Ben is spending time in Dublin with old friends, and doing a bit of gigging. You can catch him playing guitar with the amazing Aoife Mc on Saturday at No. 63 Merrion Square (home of the Royal Society of Antiquaries), and also doing a small acoustic set at the Monday Echo at the International Bar on … you guessed it — Monday!
The Herons! Gipsy Tour is getting bigger and busier every day, so do check out our gigs listings or like us on Facebook to keep up to date. Bye for now!
*You can help! Would you be up for hosting a gig at your place – whether it’s a house, a flat, a barn or a garage? If you could get about 20 people (give or take) together who like music, then you’ve got a gig! Email email@example.com if you’re interested.
by Ben Kritikos
You know those days when you’re so frustrated with the world, so itchy and restless that you could scrape your own face off with a tennis ball? I have more of these days between the months of January and March than all the other bits of the year combined. It’s the winter blues.
Some people don’t get the winter blues. Lucky bastards. But I do. I used to get solemn, depressed, melancholy — like a teenager constantly on the verge of tears because his/her hormones are more imbalanced than Mel Gibson.
That doesn’t happen anymore: now I go stir-crazy. Menopausal. Borderline personality. And it happens out of nowhere, not just on gray, dismal, drizzly days when the 214 drives right past you without stopping, as though the poxy cock-nose driving the thing didn’t see your schizophrenic semaphore. The 214 is the quintessential London-in-winter experience — it’s the bus from hell, the bus they refuse to upgrade to a double-decker, or even an articulated bus, because people may actually be able to sit down on it; the bus driven only by less-than-domesticated primates who seem to take pleasure in accelerating fast enough to splatter old ladies against the grimy handrails.
Enter the Dragon: the 214
Filed under Music, Top Fives