A thing about going to a gig

I have not traditionally been v rock n’ roll.

Aged 16, I went to V Festival to see Travis – remember them? – and decided to get my nose pierced. This momentous event happened in a teepee that smelt of wee and the piercing gun got stuck mid-way. My friend Emma, who was holding my hand, promptly fainted and the man operating the piercing gun had to waggle his weapon of death for several minutes to release me. Eventually, I was freed and quite pleased with my new accessory. But the nose stud felt an awful lot less rock n’ roll when Mrs Best, a housemistress at school, told me I had to cover it up with a flesh-coloured plaster in case it got caught by a lacrosse stick.

Then, a few years ago, I went to the Secret Garden Party, overcooked things on the first night and spent the ENTIRE weekend passed out asleep in our tent. I didn’t see one act.


Being rock n’ roll at the Secret Garden Party


I am also a bit ashamed to admit that, over the years, I have been to see live acts including Michael Buble, Miss Dynamite, the Spice Girls and the Sugababes.

In conclusion, my rock n’ roll credentials are low. But things might be about to change because I have just booked tickets to a gig. A proper gig. A friend of mine called George is even playing in it. The band is called Little Mammoths and it was formed by the Noah and the Whale bassist Matt Owens AND the Mumford and Sons brass dudes will be playing alongside them.

George sent me an email last week which contained the following THRILLING sentence:

Texan rock legend Ray Wylie Hubbard said: “If your ears dig gnawing on the gritty sounds from a young, dirty, cool rock band, I just found Little Mammoths who satisfy the craving…”

There are still tickets if you want to come along too, book ’em HERE. I am much looking forward to ‘rocking out’ and will report back afterwards. Just call me Sophia ‘Chrissie Hynde’ Money-Coutts. Except don’t because we’ll all die of old age before you get the sentence out.