Honey Smugglers meet the Barking Bard, with hilarious results !

It's August 1990 and the Honey Smugglers are flying high; with write-ups in all three music papers that week, and gigs coming thick and fast on the eve of the release of our first EP `Listen'. At two days' notice we have landed a gig with Billy Bragg at the most happening Mean Fiddler in Harlesden. It's a great venue and sure to be full for Billy B who is at the top of his game and warming up for Reading Festival the next day. As we're soundchecking on the carpeted stage, we meet Billy and find him to be an ace chap. "Hello you Smuggler types" he greets us cheerily, and as I'm introduced to him he says "ah yes, the drummer. Always the one most likely to say "fuck" in front of your mother".

The reason we have the gig is that Mushi Jenner who's a young fan of ours, and her chaperone Annie, have persuaded Mushi's Dad/Billy's manager Peter to put us on the bill. He's not visible at the soundcheck, Annie confides "he says he's heard it all before". In this case, he really has. Who needs to hear our psychedelic pop quartet with an organ and visionary lead singer on scrambled guitar when the first band you managed was Syd Barrett's Pink Floyd ?

Inevitably when we do meet later, I can't resist from drilling him and his charming Japanese wife Sumi for information about some of the legendary figures (and indeed heroes of mine) he's looked after....Syd, Roy Harper, Kevin Ayers..."bloody hell" he protests "you'll be asking me about the Third Ear Band next !" (if he only knew). I thought he deserved some sort of medal for managing this most mercurial set of eccentrics, which can't have been straightforward to say the least, but belief in sheer talent goes a long way I guess.

The Mean Fiddler has two well-appointed dressing rooms, the main act's room is accessed through the support band's. Pre-show The Honey Smugglers made themselves comfortable, enjoying the luxury of something other than the more usual toilet with added chairs. As we're chatting, smoking and drinking the rider away, I happen to remark that tonight's a "bit of an incongruous bill" amongst other possibly indiscreet remarks.

About half an hour later out comes Mr Bragg from the dressing room at the end. We had no idea he was in there all the time. "Hello again" he says, "incongruous Bill here".