You never know what you will find in a basement. You could, as I did, find three young guys starting a blues bonfire with an impromptu jam session. It turns out that they were related but, even so, you'd never have guessed, they hadn't played together before. Not even a real band, they knew what they were doing and they would have blown away a lot of the "proper" bands that I've seen this year.
In a "what's the word?" moment, Gary Johnstone and his band took to the stage and blasted through a confident set of blues and r&b standards with his firebrand guitar style much to the forefront. You can't argue with the feel good style of this band and it isn't hard to see why Mr Johnstone is making a name for himself. The word, as they say, is given.
One rapid changeover later and My Old Blue Terraplane started their set. Four good men and true and led by keyboards instead of guitar, they provided laidback entertainment that made me think of the likes of the Hothouse Flowers. A bit mournful, a bit melancholy but sometimes that's how the blues hits you.
Ending proceedings tonight was one man and his guitar trading under the name of Man Gone Missing. No doubt exorcising the darker corners of his psyche, Man Gone Missing sang of emptiness and despair in songs that neither started nor finished but instead echoed around the room like distant cries for help.
They say the blues ain't nothing but a feeling and they also say that in all feelings there is the truth.
I can feel her heart.