Thirteen years playing '50s rock'n roll in clubland - fully amplified - toughens you up no end. In the immortal words of Al Read to a club audience when the band comes on stage, "Quiet lads, or I'll put the comic back on", winning an indifferent audience can be interesting work.

We used to do our act regardless of the reaction - play to 6 people just the same as if it was 66, or 1,006. We had fantastic nights with hundreds of people jiving to the music, and nights where they couldn't have given a toss - but we never gave in. Our most fascinating night by far was being booked to play at a club - a converted cinema - in Guildford. We turned up and started to play to 4 blokes in the front row in this large, ex-cinema auditorium with tiered seating. They never clapped once. In the interval, we went down to them and said, "Are you enjoying it?" Turned out they were Swedes, who rarely clap until the end of a complete performance. "We're having a great time!" they said, so we invited them on to the stage for the whole second half. They danced, they joined in the singing, they got gloriously drunk and had a great time. And, actually, so did we - in the end!

When I quit rock'n roll and joined a boogie'n funk band - stuff straight from Memphis and New Orleans - we played most of the 15 years in smoke-filled pubs. I recall one Friday night when we were playing Little Feat's "Dixie Chicken" in the Lion and Lobster in Brighton. When we finished it, an American bloke came up to us and said, "Guys, for 5 minutes there, I closed my eyes and imagined I was back in New Orleans." What greater praise could we have had?

I've done guest spots in quite a few folk clubs over the years, and had a good time in every one - but you don't get quite the same experiences as going out into the heart of publand and clubland. It's good for the soul!