It Isn't What You Know......

Visiting M's sister in Aylesbury for the weekend, Jan gets a call from a friend who happens to be a music producer asking if they want to be on the guestlist to see Tift Merritt (Bob Harris likes her) recording a live album. Turns out there are only 2 places, and after a brief dither, and a minor domestic (not on mine or M's part), and Chris doesnt drive, and I'd been to the pub, Jan and M drive me and Chris the 20 miles to Buck'num (Bucking HAM to Merkins), drop us off at the Radcliffe Centre, and then drive back to catch the rest of Strickly.
Quick pint at the pub, (curly) cheese and pickle roll, and we are whisked in at the door and find a seat in the balcony of this old church (and being on the guestlist saves us £30). I have never been on a guestlist before, and probably wont be again, but all it does is get you in for free.

Tift is very lovely and plays an unaccompanied set.
(we were all supposed to be quiet and take no pictures during the recording, so the photo was sneaked with no flash)

All very lovely stuff, but it aint rock and roll, so after the first set, and knowing it is a long way back home, Chris and I, vulgarians that we are, catch a cab back (the last bus went at 19.40) to Aylesbury for which, having saved on the admission to the concert, I catch the tab, to catch last orders and meet our lovely women at the Kings Head.
I have ordered the CD. We shall see.