gigging

If you do get stranded, it will probably be fine. It's the North, not Neptune. And with Facebook nowadays, it's surprisingly easy to find a non-psycho semi-stranger's sofa to stay on.
You are new, so no matter what your experience beforehand everyone will assume you are utterly crap at telling jokes to people. This can be frustrating when you are trying to assure everyone you are the UK's answer to Sarah Silverman with a bit of Lee Evans thrown in *cough*. The answer? Well, my answer, is to embrace it.
Most musicians are notoriously nervous of playing support gigs, as how the crowd will respond is such a huge unknown. It's pretty important that the headliner and support are matched musically in a way that at least suggests that they might have listened to one or two of the same records.
Festivals have changed dramatically in this time - when the first T in the Park took place in 1994 the only other UK festivals were Glastonbury, Reading and WOMAD - now there are literally hundreds all over the country and they have gone from just being a place where you watch bands outdoors, to an entire four day experience or a long weekend away.
The Hypnotic Eye make a photogenic combo, which may explain the evening's presence of several photographers who are eager to capture a band who look as if they've stepped straight out of the London of 1968.
From playing the streets of Dublin to concert halls all over the world, Hansard has certainly come a long way.
My need for alcohol is actually starting to affect my powers of perception, and I now seem to be existing in a reality that is part medieval England, part Narnia. Alternatively, I might be seeing things as they are, and Perth is a few years behind the rest of Australia.
If her single is anything to go by then expect even more from this folk friendly female when she releases her EP 'My Enemy' this summer.
THE BUSK is a music platform. It showcases music videos and profiles fresh, new talent. If you want to listen to sound played from the streets, you've come to the right place.
It's a Wednesday night in early January and as George Frakes takes to the stage of this cosy north London boozer, clad in a mishmash of tweed and velvet, there's an air of the English Gent to him. While the crowd at The Wheelbarrow may be rather thin on the ground, those who have turned out are reverent in their hushed appreciation.