Well, that's the theory; in the words of John Wetton, only time will tell, but what it definitely has done is introduced us to numerous roads which, I'm sure, are unused in decades. The TomTom seems to have some sort of algorithm built in which gives priority to single-track, unlit, twisting, turning cart tracks over such modern nonsense as, say, motorways. So it was that we emerged from a rarely visited and seemingly uncharted forest on the outskirts of Pontefract and found ourselves at the former Ackworth Moortop Club, (relatively) recently rebranded as Jester's Entertainment Bar.
The make-over artist is clearly of similar age to your reviewer because, once inside, you could be in any of the clubs where I used to bop to Frankie Goes to Hollywood or Aztec Camera (oh yes!) The eighties influence is inescapable and I was feeling quite at home.
Then Alan reported his conversation at the door:
“You'd better be good or we'll glass ya!”
It's an interesting approach to geeing up the turn, isn't it? From girls, too. Maybe they were on a trip from Hartlepool?*
It's a young crowd and the set is tailored suitably; I'd call it commercial, DB says it's cheesy. You know the drill by now – all the charty stuff and we don't get Dann's solo slot.
A couple of guests – a bloke on bass and another lass who gets to shake DB's tambourine (I should rephrase that, shouldn't I?) I don't know if a glassing was threatened if he'd refused, but it wouldn't surprise me.
Interesting gig, and no blood spilled, so I guess the patrons were satisfied.
*Utterly unfair, of course. The King Ozzy might look like 1970s Belfast, but we've never felt remotely threatened. Apart from by the bingo caller.
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