22/08/2026
Thirty years ago this evening, a Thursday, I walked up from my Tufnell Park abode to see Thee Headcoats in the Wild Western Room at the St John's Tavern.
However, upon arrival a hastily handwritten note on the door informed us that the pub's function room was being used for a wake – the landlord's brother had died a few days earlier – and the gig had been moved down the road to the Boston Arms.
Slim, who put the gigs on, had already asked me to be the regular DJ and to design gig flyers for him at this point.
After experiencing a few (more) "issues" with the man from the St John's Tavern, Slim moved the gigs to the Boston Arms permanently. And he called it the Dirty Water Club.
Six months after that, Slim quit putting on gigs. For ever. For reasons that he's kept to himself. There were six weeks' worth of gigs booked up in advance. I said to the sound guy, The Professor, "Shall we carry on with them then and see how it goes...?"
