Around about the middle of October, Wicked and I took ourselves along to a Halloween Hoedown. I’ll say it was a Hoedown alright. Wicked Toe was in not the best of form, he was a little on the grumpy side for most of the night. But between you and I folks, it can get a little lonesome curled up on the couch with just Toe, so I put my foot down: we were going out! We got into the Spring and Airbrake and I immediately positioned myself, ear (singular) toward the stage.

The Dirty Roots were first on, that sure shut Wicked up. Apart from being just about the most aesthetically pleasing band in Belfast, it turns out these guys have a sound to back it up. They filled the room with a mellow rock that made the folks listen up good. The smooth funkiness of vocalist Pete Murray lends the sing-a-long tunes an edginess, which pricks your ears. All that was laced with the sweet vocals of a very fine Ada Ketchie making The Dirty Roots sound more than pretty.

Illustrations by Kathryn Boyle

Having Toe’s attention diverted to the other goings on in the room I could relax, and grab myself a pint of beer. The lights were down low, and my back was turned away from the stage. All of a sudden I could see the reflection of a spotlight bounce between the mirrors, and the sound of what can only be described as snake charming music. Sweet Jimmie Rodgers what in the name of all things sacred was going on? I turned round only to be hypnotised by the undulating body of a mighty fine looking belly dancer, whom I later found out to be called Samantha Emanuel. Then I spotted Toe a couple of rows up ahead. His eyes where the size of headlamps, I could practically see his heart pumping beneath his toenail. He turned round to me and whispered, “Joe, I am in love.” Now I don’t know how many of you have every seen a smitten Wicked Toe, but let me tell you, it aint pretty.

Wicked can get a little obsessive, so I thought if the young belly dancer was out of sight she’d be out of mind. I breathed a sigh of relief when the next band came on, Ten Gallon Hat and the Big Salute. The band came out and authoritatively broke into a rock rattle and shake of groovy country blues that got the girls excited and the boys’ feet a tapping. The range of tunes played was really something; there was country up-beat rock tunes like New Horizons and the bluesy Put it Away, which were subtly contrasted with deep soulful tunes such of Mercy of the Water. Even from Toe’s euphoric love struck state, I could tell he was impressed.

As if we could ask for more, the night was capped off with an energetic burst of country love from Jackson Cage. Undoubtedly this band had the most energy on stage that either Toe or I had seen in a while. Their jamming country rock sound had soul, and the boys and gal seemed to really enjoy being on stage giving them a unique buzz that permeated their performance.

I awoke the next morning with a hangover of the head and mouth, Toe awoke the next morning with the hangover of the heart, and we all know folks, they’re the worst kind. Unfortunately for me his heartache seemed to last for a good two weeks. I relentlessly tried cheering him up but the only thing he could think of was Samantha, and her lovely belly. I said to Wicked that this would not stand, I would not sit back and witness him mope into his breakfast each morning. Eventually after much persuasion Toe declared that the only thing would cheer him up was a game of Trivial Pursuits. The things we do for friends. So we sat all day in the house, by the fire, Trivial Pursuits consuming our attentions, until I could not take it any more. Toe, we are going out, you need a beer my lone one, not a board game.

We took ourselves along to a Halloween party, I dressed up as a Mormon, but Toe didn’t dress up. We both agreed it would be kind of silly to dress up a Toe, I mean where does one start? I handed out playing cards instead of religious tracts but I think people generally got the feel. Anyways, at the party this dude told us to check out Swanee River, he said they were playing at the Pavilion on the 29th of October, so check we did.

Swanee River had stage presence that was completely captivating. Lead singer Stevie Horner’s energy is a force to be reckoned with and the sound this foursome produced was complete and bold, yet had taste and restraint. Tunes like Baby Better Lady and Made in The Shade are immediate, the feel of the musicians’ energy and their Zepplin-esk, unadulterated rock and roll sound melded perfectly, making them sheer entertainment. I saw Wicked over on the other side of the bar and knew the Toe’s lovesick blues had been washed away.

I’m not going to start at the start, but I do have to start somewhere so I’m going rewind to just after Hurricane Katrina. I was driving my truck north out of New Orleans, when I caught a glimpse of a Toe standing at a bus stop, bags packed, waiting to move. I thought to myself, I have a nice roomy truck with a spare seat, even though my wipers broke two weeks ago, why shouldn’t I offer this poor toe a free ride?

He got into the passenger seat, “Can you take me to the airport?”
“Sure thing buddy, say, what’s your name?”
“Most folks call me Wicked, Wicked Toe.”
“Alright then Wicked, most folks call me Joe, Joe Davisham Walsh.”

It was on that first car journey that I realized just how wicked Wicked Toe actually was. He had one hell of a chip on his shoulder, and still does to this day. But I knew as soon as he stepped into that truck with me that this was fate and we were going to do great things together, Wicked Toe and I. See we shared a common love for all things musical and now, I don’t like to admit it, but I find his wickedness kind of charming these days.

Anyways, the long and the short of this here tale is that there was a spare seat on the plane to Ireland that Wicked had booked onto, and I just couldn’t let him go alone…..

……………………………………………………..

I awoke this morning with a fire alarm exploding in my ear. I say ear, singular, as I only got one. Just the way I was born, or so my mother says, it didn’t fall off or nothing sinister like that. I have tried a variety of hairstyles and hats in my time to disguise my lack of ear on the right hand side, but nowadays I have just resigned myself to my ear, singular. It’s alone, but it’s good. And the ladies seem to have a particular interest in my onlyoneear? Which I have to say pleases me. A lot.

With my tongue stuck to the lining of my alcohol inspired mouth, I looked over at a similarly conditioned Wicked Toe, who was most inconvenienced by this irritating sound, at 5:37am this morning. We both waited for the “False Alarm” to be acknowledged, but no such acknowledgement came. A vaguely familiar girl bounded into the room with noted authority hollering, “Fire, Fire, Fire, Everybody Out, Everybody Out.” Irked Wicked Toe explained to me calmly that he would be going nowhere, “Well, can you smell any burning?” No, but not the point, school had hypnotized me into exiting the building quickly and calmly and in an orderly fashion…. What ever that is?

As I sat smoking my first cigarette of the day, I carefully collected fragmented memories from my evening at the Dublin Fringe Festival. Wicked and I had seen a band that surely tickled our chins, Bocs Social, who played at the Bosco Tent on the Wednesday night. The band are a bunch of boys that hail from Wicklow. They’re a suitably funky shake of Indie, Ska, Punk, and Pop, and on stage their inexhaustible energy made for a darn fine show I can tell you. The trumpet buttered songs like “Whoa” with a charming and authentic 80s Ska sound made Wicked and I sit up straight and listen; the catchy Indie tune leaves you interested and wanting more.

As they bounced around the stage these boys communicated a playful attitude to what they do, which made them all the more charismatic. Doing covers of stuff like The Specials “Dawning of a New Era” and a sound number of their own melodic and spicy tunes produced a truly entertaining show. Wicked Toe raised his eyebrow when Bocs Social offered up a cover of Peter Andre’s “Sweat”. A la la la la long…. You know the one. But I have to say, in my humble opinion the guys nailed it. They bounced about the stage and leant the annoyingly-familiar-but-can’t-remember-what-the-song-is a touch of cheeky soul, which seems to be what Bocs Social are very talented at.

Well folks, that’s enough for now, speak to you all soon,

Joe Davisham Walsh