7th April, 2013: GoGo Children

Spat by Soulgirl at 8:04 am | Comment here! Comment (0)

Lindsay and I sat on my sofa, watching ‘The Day The Earth Stood Still’ and I had a brief hiccough and said ‘I love this film, shame we’re going to miss it’. She said that we didn’t have to miss it… I nearly took her up on that! BUT, I knew there was more fun waiting just 20 miles up the road even if my right hip was smarting. A particularly short jaunt in comparison to our usual 3 to 4 hundred mile round-trip in search of soul-sustenance. Our normal 2-3 hour journey was all but 30 minutes, to the most hauntingly wonderful venue in the UK. The Napoleonic Prison in Bristol. The prisoners must have been well scabby and stinky.

There had been much frivolity and comedy in the lead up to tonight’s paartaay… an ‘individual’ had bravely ventured to intimate that the hosts of this night, John Stapleton and Dean Reid, were egotistical and stated EGo Go Children or such like. A perfect opportunity for inappropriate humour and one-line jocular statements ensued. Not something sustainable mind, as it’s complete bullshit and we bored of it fairly quickly. However, we used this new knowledge of an ‘individuals’ personal attack (small dick syndrome) as a vessel for ‘funnay’ fulfilment.

I hope the ‘individual’ doesn’t plump his feathers and push out his chest though; it was a direct insult to you, whoever you are; hast thou or word, or wit, or impudence, that can yet do thee office? I don’t believe so!

In case anyone reading this gets the wrong end of the stick, I’m being facetious; both John and Dean are the complete opposite end of the pole to egotistical philanderers. They are two of the most unassuming, anti-attention seeking, warm-hearted and passionate record collectors there ever were.

Anyway, the two, satirically ‘egotistical’, DJ’s managed to capture everyone’s passionate intentness, playing sublime underplayed soul cuts, funky flips and storming northern soul (and a smattering of Ska/Reggae at the end which I personally disrelish) .

I have to pay particular homage to Dean’s spin of the following track by Carl Hall. I’ve always had a special place in my somewhat cold heart for his breathtaking version of Summertime (goosebumps right?) but this track, although it reminds me of the Apollas for some reason, really hit the spot. Beautiful vocals within a pretty musical envelope.

The guest spinners tonight were David Abbott and Chris Stanley (Dr Pickles). Both of whom manage to smash my big red detonation button without trying. Only a couple of weekends back Chris received venue-wide adulation for his uplifting 100mph set at Soul FunkTion and tonight he did himself proud again with a storming early set which was more 60s than ‘funksties’ and a later set of funk-charged dancers. Capturing the essence of GoGo Children, and the interest of the dance floor. I did get to hear my favourite though, and falcon punched the air at the appropriate times, like a transient mime artiste.

I must say, of the crowd who were in which was plentiful, I can confidently advise they hadn’t heard many of the funk tinged tracks but still they danced. That is what it’s ALL ABOUT!

Mr Abbott did not disappoint. Even Lindsay got a damp patch when Waymond was played. Craig (the funky plumber) was telling me how he’d just gotten contact details for Waymond, was about to converse, then sadly he popped his clogs just before he made the call. Bad luck or what!

It doesn’t matter than any of the greats are dead; we all die! Where we are lucky though is that we are left with the most fantastic, permanent, legacy ever… their music. Fuck, I’m in danger of sounding emotional here!

Got to hear the wonderful Turley Richards; took me right back to the heady days of the magnificent Middleton all-nighters. This is absolute proof I’d rather be blind than deaf. God, I miss Middleton.

Mr Abbott titillated us with the haunting, rare, and beautiful Willy Dale. Again, a packed dance floor to something most patrons probably hadn’t heard. Oh how I smiled and twirled, twirled and smiled.

John Stapleton selflessly proceeded to feed my need for the funky flava’s. And, as a staple dish in a dancers menu we all got to go a little berserk to The Specials!

Is there any other record with that frenetic bass laden intro? Probably yes, but this is way up there with the best of them.

As I’m particularly crap at remembering records that I danced to, all but a few hours ago, I’ll have to stop sieving my addled brain.

Notable conversation with Ben Summers about Fat Kim – North Korea’s new ‘wet behind the ears’ leader. I do wonder how he managed to get so fat in a country that’s so lean. The whole country marches around like a choreographed ballet don’t you think? Bizarre that a whole country is so cut off that they don’t know what the fuck is going on anywhere else; has one TV channel and surreptitiously resides amongst a whole planet with free knowledge at the tips of their fingers yet allows no knowledge to be available to its subjects at all – how can this even occur in 2013? How pathetically oppressed the people are.

Oh, by the way, I found myself being a self-appointed talc monitor again! Some rump-fed ronyon, puffing talc in 8 foot unnecessary powdery arcs, grinning and acting the fool showing off to his mates probably mouthing the words ‘keep the faith’, found me punctiliously approach, confiscating the offending cannister, called him a profane name in an overly animated theatrical way, and skipped back to the ‘groovy-gang corner’ (Thanks Mark White for naming the cool partition of the room)

One thing that would make GoGo Children imperforate, and infinitely superb, would be if it were a nighter. 9pm to 2am is just not long enough for this unique glittering jewel in a sea of uninteresting, dull barnacle ridden zircon’s, and down right overplayed bland soul nights (uses words loosely) peppered abundantly across our Isle… A diamond in the rough, to coin a phrase.

My summation of the night is this. Fucking A! (Except when I got home, entered the Marina, and trod in fox shit… it really stunk!)

Click the photo and browse through my photographic journey.

GoGo Children - 6 April 2013

Ben, Lindsay and Hannah - top mates!

GoGo Children - 6 April 2013

Chris & David

GoGo Children - 6 April 2013

24th March, 2013: Funkin’ Awesome!

Spat by Soulgirl at 2:55 pm | Comment here! Comment (0)

Soul Funk-Tion Pt.4 – March 2013

Being British we did nothing but talk about the weather throughout the day on Saturday… with good reason however! It’s the end of March and the UK has been dumped on good and proper with snow. Worries that it would be cancelled or that many would stay away due to the blanket of snow dissipated into unimportant historical thoughts when we all walked through the venue doors.

A short detour to pick up Dave & Jess, and the only bit of snow we saw was a small smattering in Dudley and the venue car park.

However, we were an hour late and stumbled in to a hive of bustling activity as proceedings were already in full swing and the bass resonated through my trembling body.

Our DJs were Sean Haydon & David Abbott (our hosts) together with Craig Smith ‘The Funky Plumber’; two of the most respected DJs and collectors to grace any soul scene - JORDI RIPOLLES and VAL CHALLONER, the young(er) exciting DJ, JAMES POGSON, KEV BODLEY and two progressive northern DJ’s – DR PICKLES and, Funk-tion regular, GOSPEL BOB.

Chris (Dr Pickles) exploded from the decks and set the room on FIRE! Faultless selection of up-tempo sides that got me flapping and windmilling straight off! Amongst many, this Tina Turner track blasted my tits off…

Arthur Prysock’s version of Fever was another that pricked up my ears from Chris. I really liked it! Arthur Prysock – Fever

Jordi mixed his set up covering many years and tempos and I just couldn’t believe it when he put this on… honestly, I wee’d in my pants a little bit – never heard this out ever so I went a bit spaz to it

Kev Bodley, who stepped in to cover Ian who couldn’t make it due to the weather (I will get to bloody dance to My Big Mistake!), also played a stormer of a set which left Val commenting ‘he’s played 5 records of my set already’

James Pogson (I’ve linked his YouTube Channel – go take a listen, it’s superb) started his stint with some big records that already get a lot of airing out and about but he soon settled into a sublime mix of the kind of stuff that really excited me when I first heard some of his records on Facebook in our little Funk Group and just what I was hoping to hear tonight. (Apologies for my selfish request James, please forgive my audacity and I feel a bit of a numpty now – no offence intended) More windmilling and whiplash injuries for me. Just wish I knew what they were for my iPod

Craig covered many years and tempos as well and gave us a good insight of his diverse funk collection. He enjoyed a few rounds on the dance floor throughout the night as well

It has to be said that all the DJ’s brought something exciting and personal to the dance floor. So many positive comments bounding around the venue all night. And what a venue. Really like it and the dance floor was fantastic (until someone put talc down that had been advertised as not being wanted or allowed). How disrespectful and selfish. It made the floor quite treacherous for those who’d worn appropriate shoes. I hope they haven’t jeopardised our chances of returning to this venue for Pt.5 because the management were adamant that it should not be used!

The vibe was friendly, fun and passionate. Much talk of a ‘nighter’ variety covering topics such as mirena coils, masturbation, chocolate, Viagra, fancy dress, refrigeration law, orgasms and sex toys. Nothing unusual really!

An hour from the end I was having difficulty dancing to the slower ones which soon included the faster ones as well. Could barely pick up my feet. Job done – well, once the Boys had spun Willy Dale – Let Your Light Shine in memory of Micky Cruise and Waymond Hall – What Will Tomorrow Bring/Soul-Funk-Tion. Without doubt the BEST DOUBLE SIDER OF ALL TIME (for me anyway, at the moment haha).

It snowed all night but this didn’t chill nor dampen our mood. We’d worry about that at home-time. It was quite slippery and many of the roads I drove on had not been gritted. Stupid councils! Still, nothing I couldn’t handle and by the time we’d reached Gloucester the snow was gone… plus of course I took it very easy using my gears to slow down when necessary but not until we’d all stopped off for a large and necessary Latte. Took 3 hours to get home; it’s usually a 1½ hour journey.

Disappointed for those who were looking forward to coming yet couldn’t due to the snow. I had a good old dance for you all. Bloody weather!

BIG thanks to Sean & Dave for bringing us yet another pant-damping cacophony of brilliant Soul Funk-Tion music and camaraderie. And BIG thanks to my bezzie, Lindsay, for again putting up with me although she was a tad difficult herself at the end LOL. Anyway, I’m completely funked to the point of it being self-harm. YIPEEEEE!

Soul Funk-Tion - March 2013

12th March, 2013: Prestatyn Weekender 2013

Spat by Soulgirl at 12:36 pm | Comment here! Comments (2)

I was looking forward to the newly-refurbished camp site. Liars!

Anyway, it wasn’t high on my list of priorities. My priorities were to arrive, dance, leave. And I did just that with some comedy moments peppered throughout the weekend.

Friday

We arrived fairly late due to the predictably shite driving conditions and the sheer volume of traffic on the roads heading for their own weekend get-away. And as I was chomping at the bit I flicked a flannel about ‘me person’ and threw on some clean clothes making headway for the Queen Vic. I entered the front door and passed right through like a greasy stool out of the back door.

Unlike all the years gone before the atmosphere and people were not the Queen Vic I was expecting. It was definitely lacking the Soultown Boys! So, I did a sprint through the modern room, head down hoping no-one stopped me for a chat because I wasn’t in the mood to have my ears assaulted by modern so early, having just arrived.

The main hall was HEAVING! Again, I had horror pangs as it looked and felt different. The people who should have been in specific areas were no where to be seen. I scanned the room, people watching, and visited the bar having brief acknowledgement conversations. No time to fuck around though; the 2nd floor was my destination and I actually stayed in the Redemption room all night.

Top spins from the Willingham’s, Mick H, Keith Money, Andy Dyson, Soul Sam, Ted Massey and Joan. I danced all night on a portable dance-floor that does not forgive sliding feet. Although, on occasion it caused me to ‘take note’ it didn’t fool me that easily and I bashed on relentlessly. They had provided a make-shift bar which wasn’t stocked very well and the barrel of lager ran out early and was never replaced again over the whole weekend. Bad bar management that! Especially when they wanted nearly £4 for a bottle of fucking beer.

Proper ‘Nighter’ tunes blared out of those speakers and the room was perfect both in decor and attendee.

Laughed at the man dancing in a kind of kinky robotic way stopping to stroke his own arms regularly. I think he was on E’s. George and I laughed when I said I’d make us both, for next year, a long circle skirt with inbuilt pants where we’d have bells on our bums spelling the word ‘cunt’ that would be revealed as we did our big spins hahahaha.

Between dances I laughed heartily with an assortment of patrons; exchanging one-line gags, insults, fictional gossip and bare-faced lies (all for comedy effect). As Joan announced the last record my brain suddenly flicked a switch and I knew it was time to slip away into the cold morning air. I ended up on the doorstep of the Nottingham Nutters and was welcomed inside by Mandy and Wendy, Mick and Ian, who proceeded to bully me to consume a beverage I can only describe as being from a Dental Surgery. We chewed the cud and talked rubbish, enjoyed the delights of Wendy’s porno dressing up box, and made Ian attempt his very first ‘planking’ experience. All this whilst Mick snored in the bedroom having taken his leave earlier.

10am and I was hobbling my way back to my chalet. Sheepishly opening the door like a dirty stop-out. Once installed in my pyjamas and my ‘anti sex-attack sleeve’ (sleeping bag) I arranged myself on the sofa-bed next to Samantha.

Oh how we laughed… I can’t divulge the conversations but it certainly kept us amused. I was a bit windy too so she had to fashion her duvet into a make-shift wind breaker at one point. She could have hired me out to inflate one of those Wedding Balloon Arches I reckon. We had the TV Radio on and after slagging that off, for the most boring choices of music we’ve ever heard, we nodded off. If Tesco’s Value did a Northern Soul CD, that show would have been on it.

I did go out in the afternoon but I cannot remember what I did or where I went, only that I had stupidly worn ridiculous shoes and complained bitterly about knowing how Japanese Foot Binding must feel. I hate having ‘blank spots’. Maybe it’ll come back to me in the next day or two. I walked back to the chalet in bare feet.

Saturday

I entered the main arena to catch the Vibrations on stage. I didn’t take much notice being in a kind of parallel universe and enjoyed flippant talk and tomfoolery in the bar area instead waiting for the Redemption Room to open. I’d worn my ‘magic dancing trousers’ knowing that I’d need help after my marathon just hours before. They didn’t work. I was suffering ‘locked in syndrome’ and dribbled in my bib sat on a chair for most of the night. Even when the Hopkins Brothers blared out I sat there quivering, unable to erect myself to a standing position.

On a visit to the un-stocked bar, having ordered a bottle of beer and a mortgage agreement, I suddenly acquired a hand between my legs and one round my chest. Without warning I was inverted, staring at the floor. My gymnastic past came rushing back and I quickly adopted a Star position, pointing my toes and hands, pretending to be Olga Corbett. I was waltzed around the room, upside down, to a backing track of wonderful rare soul before being landed upright once more. The words “Taz, you fucking idiot” slipped from my lips as I started laughing and waited for the blood to leave my head.

Record of the night for me, by the Willingham’s, was I Only Have Eyes For You. The whole room witnessed my public cum-face as I sat there on my chair twitching involuntarily. Wow!

I made a couple of attempts to dance but each time I got on the dance floor I could not move my legs so had to leave it again.

I made it until 4am and floated back to the chalet where I fell into bed.

Funny quips of the weekend so far are:

I bet she’s got a clit pump
I bet she dances with Chinese love balls up her foof
He’s probably back in his chalet with a record threaded on his cock
I wonder if anyone has soiled themselves yet

Sunday

Sadly we said goodbye to Sam this morning; back off to Norfolk to assume her All Creatures Great And Small idyllic life. A far cry from a soul weekender.

I wandered over to the Queen Vic hoping for some wonderful music. I sat in the corner nursing a pint wondering if the next record would ignite my interest. Mr McKay sidled up for a chat and the next DJ came on. No idea who he was but when he sat down behind the decks we looked at each other in horror. This was ‘not’ a good sign! Music that was pertinent to bath-time or birthing trickled out of the speakers and Paul said ‘right, I’m off to the main room’. I sat there for another couple of records and trod the same path he did where I bumped into Andy D and Mick H.

It wasn’t long before I was laughing at their stories. I asked Andy if he also had strange thoughts like who might have soiled themselves over the weekend when Trickster walked up and announced he’d been smacked in the mouth. I looked at him, said he must have deserved it and asked if he’d shit himself over the weekend where he announced he had the week before. Just at that point Mick walked over and ‘dropped one’. I wanted to perform a commando roll and hollar ‘GAS GAS GAS’ but all I could manage was an over-acted choking mime, moving myself outwards like the rest of the bar had, in a circle. We were now hovering on the perimeter of Mick’s nuclear exclusion zone. He could not have timed that more brilliantly if he’d planned it.

We spent an hour or two by the bar chatting and discussing weekender bowel habits (and laughing at a woman taking photographs with a fucking iPad!) before I returned to the Queen Vic to hear Keith and Mick. Luckily my dancing legs had miraculously returned which pleased me. A few turns on the dance floor before the final record span and I nipped back to the main hall with some fries intent on finding Nicci & Dean for the chalet key. The main room was still bouncing and although Mick was due to play the next hour I just couldn’t find the energy to stick around. Plus I was particularly angry at the 2-3 year old running around at 11pm! WTF do these stupid people think they’re doing letting little ones like this stay up so late around drunk people let alone take them to a fucking weekender.

Big thanks to Nicci & Dean for letting me share and to Samantha for the funny’s. Will I go again? Not sure, lacked the old dynamic of past Prestatyn’s and the main room was too oldies for me full of people doing the same dance routines in the same clothes. You know, like an Abba Appreciation Weekend where everyone goes dressed as Abba but this was where many were dressed as stereotypical Northern Soul people – or what has been stereotyped as Northern Soul people anyway. Seeing fat old birds in circle skirts and bobby socks is funny enough but seeing portly blokes in baggies and bowling shirts with ‘Splitz Happen’ embroidered on the back was comedy fucking gold. It brought back horrifying memories of the last Prestatyn and that wedding with the bridesmaids in matching morris dancer/jester outfits. I often wonder if the music really matters to them or whether it’s just a sense of belonging to a movement. Who knows, and who cares really.

A full English in the cafe before departure. Paul Weller was in there! And lots of men with big hanging balls in their comfy travel trousers – the harsh arrival of sobriety showed just how old many patrons are and I wondered whether I really wanted to keep doing this.

Prestatyn 2013

24th February, 2013: Lifeline 9th Anniversary

Spat by Soulgirl at 4:34 pm | Comment here! Comment (0)

Lindsay coerced me, with little resistance I admit, to free myself from my recent self-imposed solitary confinement to attend the 9th Lifeline Anniversary. And am I glad she did. Mind you, I could not imagine missing my favourite allnighter in the whole wide world but I needed a kick up my proverbial and she obliged.

The journey was quick and without incident where we arrived at a quarter to 9. First in and free to secure our favourite table on the left hand side.

It was SO COLD! Many were still cold when the lights came up at 7am bar those who danced the night away, like me, where warmth and fatigue with a liberal sprinkling of satisfaction swaddled us in a secure motherly way.

Two pints of larger, one for each leg, is my ‘warm-up’ exercise. Doesn’t take long, needs little room for participation and no kind of ridiculous, dangerous, acrobatic stretching. Phew!

This limbering method also allows me to hug, snog and chat to people I haven’t seen for around 2 months. And a chance to prove I was alive and not completely morose.

By now the music was pumping out loud and proud. I removed my fur coat and tiptoed onto the wonderful Stables dance floor to the ROARING SPECIALS… BOSH! Get in there my Son!!

“Oh how I’ve missed you” I whispered whilst gazing lovingly at the perfect wooden floor. Clumsily gliding around the polished surface like a crumpled duster – a near-injurious inner-thigh work-out unfolded as I battled to stop myself from performing unwanted box splits or bum drops. I crossed my fingers in the hope that no-one would be stupid enough to put down any talc. It would have been treacherous if not hilarious for onlookers! It was JUST PERFICK!

Karl White, Cliff Steele, Mick H, Andy Dyson, Soul Sam and Butch (not forgetting Rob at the end) were our resident record players with a brief guest spot by a girl from America; humble apologies, I can’t remember her name for sure but it could have been Kimberlee Fuller? I don’t know what she played but there was a stonking funk tinged ultra fast track at the start of her stint that resulted in Samantha Jarrald bellowing something along the lines of “what the fuck is this” in excited tones; like a cacophony of cackling lunatics! However, the main guest was John Manship and I was excited, in a selfish and presumptuous way, with confident, intrepid, anticipation of what he might play for us (me, me, me).

For me, knowing all the great records he has, his spot felt a little flat and uninspiring at times but of course there was a healthy peppering of great records and this is just my personal take on it and in no way meant as an insult to Mr Manship. So I failed big time on my presumptuous musical precipitation I’d hinged my selfish, self-indulgent, hopes on. I skipped up on to the stage and jokingly said “if you don’t kick it up a bit I’ll give you a prostate exam” (there was a slight pause as I presented my two fingers in front of his face) “and I’m not wearing gloves!”. This was met with a wary ‘what the hell are you going on about’ quizzical grimace. At least I didn’t finger his ‘record’ box this time! There’s a theme of fingering boxes unravelling here isn’t there…

So he didn’t have The Combinations with him (which Carmen requested) so instead he played a track by The Conquistadors, as always, in true Karen ‘dimwit’ fashion, I can’t for the life of me remember the title.

There were outstanding and brilliant records from all the DJ’s with some predictable and uninteresting ones too from my perspective. My personal favourite DJ this month was Karl White; usually he opens proceedings where I see his set go to waste as people don’t usually start dancing for at least 30 minutes or more. He opened the nighter as usual but, in a surprising DJ slot shake-up he also played a much later spot and I was soooo pleased. He plays left-field type records nestled amongst strong dance floor favourites. A really diverse delight – many of which I didn’t know (what’s new) but danced effortlessly to as they all worked so well together. Super stuff!

Butch made me smile tonight. He span one of my current favourites which I never expected to hear at Lifeline ever – I only stumbled across it myself on YouTube around 6 months ago and have only heard it played out once by Dean Read (Go Go Children, Bristol) … so, I frantically twirled around haphazardly and sang at the top of my lungs with a massive open mouthed smile across my face…

… and a hugely loved record that instantly reminds me of Las Vegas for some reason (which immediately reminded me of Dave Abbott, the record, not Las Vegas although he’d look good in sequins no doubt)…

Mick’s set gave me palpitations and hives, simultaneously, as I waited impatiently for him to put The Combinations on the turntable. As he queued each new record my heart skipped a beat and I attentively looked at him on the stage only to end up disappointed that it wasn’t THE ONE. Not disappointed with Mick or his set of course, just because I was waiting for THE ONE and it never came!

Back to the night… by around 11pm the place was heaving and I was accumulating perspiration in places a lady (I heard that!) shouldn’t accumulate perspiration. I was lovingly relieved and pleased for the Lifeline boys. They work so hard for us and tonight they were rewarded and gratuitously thanked by a room swollen with patrons. Hardened regulars, very welcome non-regulars and first-time Lifeline virgins. Except the stinky bloke, he wasn’t welcome.

Musically, at times, a lot of times actually, the tempo of various sets was up and down like a Nun’s bar of lathery soap. Without discipline or thought it seemed, but who cares; I was competing in my own trance-like dance-athon and happily windmilled around the dance floor without a care in the world to both 100mph heart-attack favourites and thought provoking, emotional, mid-tempos, all mixed up like a soul-stew. I’m sat here now, on my boat, in the shape of an L, and have either been cruelly afflicted with Polio or more believably, sustained a non-fatal whiplash injury which I’m completely exaggerating of course. This is just the kind of ‘receipt’ I expect to collect at the end of a nighter which accurately benchmarks the level of my dance floor activity and total immersion into the music I love to death.

Oh, and thank you Mr Ferrari Man, for the lovely compliments about my windmilling.

At this juncture I’d like to point out that I lost count of the number of ‘friends’ who told me (rubbed in to my raw wounds more like) that I’d missed the best Gloucester allnighter to date. I’ve got the message, loud and clear.

And now add, to this already perfect mix, a selection of bizarre conversations and anecdotes and you have the utopian allnighter. And when enjoying a post-nighter Costa-lotta-Latte, a somewhat debauched debate commenced, weighing up ‘the benefits of a small penis and a bucket vagina’. This seriously tops any conversation I’ve participated in before. Essentially, I cannot see ANY benefit of that particular combo whatsoever but debate it we did. The strange world of northern soul.

Thank you to Pascha for the surprise late-night gifting of a perfectly arranged horticultural headband that made me look and feel like a Wood Nymph of the Glen. I believe I’ve now removed all the seed-fall from my hair. If not, in a few days I shall miraculously germinate seedlings from my heat expelling bonce.

And in closing, my congratulations are warmly extended to Samantha Jarrald and Steve Flack on their official Engagement. Love is alive!
Hearty Congratulations to Mandy Walker on securing an exciting new job following her recently attained qualifications. You’ll be brilliant!
Lovely as always to see a bazillion friends, acquaintances and innocent bystanders, too numerous to name individually, in the house. A fabulous memorable evening filled with great music, laughter and comedic aspersion. And last, but not least, to my dearest, long suffering friend, Lindsay. Love you loads

Lifeline 9th Anniversary - 23 February 2013

Emma & Eddie - Lifeline 9th Anniversary - 23 February 2013

Lifeline 9th Anniversary - 23 February 2013

Click to view photos!

13th February, 2013: 6ts Weekender – Cleethorpes 2013

Spat by Soulgirl at 12:14 pm | Comment here! Comment (0)

I have two spaces available in an on-site caravan for this years 6ts soul weekender in June. Please contact me if you would like to share our caravan.

£87.00 per person to include accommodation and the weekend pass.

Contact me at soulgirl [at] gmail [dot] com.

Soul Snob

Flickr & YouTube

Pages

Categories

Recent Posts

Recent Comments

Links

Other Blogs

7th April, 2013: GoGo Children

24th March, 2013: Funkin’ Awesome!

Soul Funk-Tion Pt.4 – March 2013

12th March, 2013: Prestatyn Weekender 2013

Friday

Saturday

Sunday

24th February, 2013: Lifeline 9th Anniversary

13th February, 2013: 6ts Weekender – Cleethorpes 2013

Soul Jukebox

Random Post

Search the Site

Today I Feel

Subscribe Here

Stuff!

Meta

Archives