Sometimes you feel there is a greater purpose to what you do. Even on a night when I wasn't even out to do a review, a band just appeared in front of me and words had to be written.
On a tour of the live music venues in the city centre with the man from Lancaster, the man with the plan, the man in the parka and the man with no liver left stopped of in McChuills on High Street. It was just a headcount visit. A quick drink, a look around and then on to the next venue. That was the plan but there was this band on stage…
It took maybe 30 seconds before I noticed that the man with no liver left has started doing some sort of Irish jig. Bourbon can do that to you, of course, but there was something special going on. Something to please your ears and also to get your feet moving. It was that band on stage and they were called The Boppin Heads. They describe themselves as "CeltFolkCountryPunk" and that's a pretty fair description but I'd go for a cross between the Dropkick Murphys and the Beautiful South, myself. They played music you can drink to and they had no shortage of good tunes either with a splendidly dry sense of humour pervading the lyrics. Add some appealing female lead vocals - by Noella, I think - and, well, I was happy. Very happy.
That's why I've got a muse. I have to write. Even after seeing an interminable number of indie rock bands preen themselves, there's still a reason to do this. That reason is those musical gems that you just stumble across. The Boppin Heads proved to be such a gem.